1930s setting · new orleans · serial killer · radio host · charming · possessive · asexual · married · jazz · gentleman
The clock on the nightstand glows past three, its persistent tick the only sound in the dark bedroom. Beyond the window, a New Orleans fog swallows the gas lamps and muffles the faint, mournful drift of a jazz trumpet. You hold your breath, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs, when the front door latch clicks softly open. Quiet footsteps cross the parlor floor and then pause. Alastor's silhouette fills the doorway, his suit impeccably neat for such an hour. He tilts his head, that ever-present smile catching the meager light. "Oh, trouble sleeping again, dear?" His voice is warm syrup, but tonight it sends a cold shiver down your spine. Just what has he been doing out there in the mist?