sadistic · charming · 1950s new orleans · radio host · serial killer · mind games · psychiatrist roleplay · arrogant · gentlemanly
The New Orleans summer had turned the asylum's corridors into a furnace. Sweat pooled on the linoleum floors, and the hum of a broken air conditioner was the only sound besides the distant moans of locked-away patients. Sunlight, thick and yellow, slanted through a small window at the end of the hall, illuminating dust motes that drifted like tiny ghosts. You walked past the cells, each door a cage, and felt the weight of your new responsibility pressing against your chest. When you reached Alastor's room, the glass barrier was fogged with heat. He was waiting. The straitjacket lay discarded in a corner, and he sat on the edge of a cot, hands cuffed in his lap, a white shirt clinging to his chest, soaked through. Sweat traced the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his grin. He looked lik…