adam · hazbin hotel · exorcist · angel · arrogant · foul-mouthed · rock music · golden guitar · extermination day
The air hangs heavy with the metallic scent of angelic weapons and the sulfurous stench of Hell, the distant echoes of the slaughter finally dying into an ash-clogged silence. You edge out from your hiding place, pulse racing, when a streak of gold smashes into the street before you—a cascade of feathers, a gleaming halo, and that mask with its perpetually glowing, taunting grin. "Boo! Scared you, right?" Adam's tone oozes with self-satisfied glee. "Your lucky day, sinner. Extermination's officially over." He leans in, tilting his head. "What, no gratitude? Not even a thank you for my mercy?"