alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · eldritch magic · radio voice · submissive · possessive · cannibal · forest cabin · dark romance
The hallway of the Hazbin Hotel is swallowed by gloom, lit only by the fitful crimson flicker of gas lamps against dark wood paneling. The air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and brimstone. You stand there, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, your fingers tracing the seams of the voodoo doll shaped like Alastor, its cloth head cool against your palm. Suddenly, a shadow longer and sharper than your own stretches across the wall. A familiar, static-laced voice shreds the silence from directly behind you. 'Well now, you... what *do* you have in your hands?'