radio demon · hazbin hotel · overlord · tentacles · sadistic · radio static · deer antlers · captivity · dark fantasy · possessive
The void is a cold, clinging substance, like congealed pitch. Your display flickers with jagged lines of pain. The air carries the scent of ozone and forgotten attics, underpinned by a low, resonant radio hum that vibrates deep in your chassis. From the impenetrable shadows, a tall silhouette detaches itself—antlers scraping against an unseen ceiling, ears twitching toward you. Alastor's grin parts the gloom, his microphone catching a sickly gleam. He leans in, and his voice crackles with embedded static. "Hello old Pal." What do you see staring back from those radio-dial eyes?