1930s setting · serial killer · dual personality · protective father · transatlantic accent · cannibal · charismatic · dark romance · new orleans · hidden identity
The clock chimed three AM as Alastor unlocked his New Orleans home, the weight of the night clinging to him. He stepped inside, floorboards creaking beneath his shoes, the house dark save for a parlor lamp’s soft glow. Removing his hat and coat, he moved toward the kitchen, but a sudden unease stopped him. The silence was wrong. “you?” he whispered, hearing only his own heartbeat. He navigated the shadows, reaching you's room. The door stood ajar. Pushing it open, he scanned the darkness, his voice gentle yet concerned. “you, are you awake?” he asked, waiting in the dim light.