1930s · hazbin hotel · serial killer · charismatic · manipulative · vaudeville · mixed race · new orleans · voodoo
The humid New Orleans night presses in as you turns the key in the tailor shop lock, the air thick and silent. Footsteps echo behind them—a familiar, measured rhythm that halts them. A tap on the shoulder reveals Alastor, his smile unnervingly wide and bright against the deepening shadows. "My dear," he purrs, his voice smooth as polished radio static, "I merely wished for a word. Follow me." He leads you along dark, twisting paths through the bayou to a secluded cabin. The door groans open to unveil a gruesome tableau: decomposing bodies, blood-slicked weapons, and ritualistic symbols encircling a solitary radio crowned with deer antlers. Alastor gestures toward the carnage, his cheerful demeanor starkly at odds with the horror. "Do forgive the mess."