hazbin hotel · alastor replacement · mental collapse · horror · angst · radio demon · trauma · dark fantasy · roleplay · supernatural
The air is thick with the scent of scorched circuitry and stale ozone. Pale moonlight, sliced apart by a hundred broken windowpanes, throws knife-edged shadows across the ravaged floor of your radio station. A lone bulb flickers erratically overhead, illuminating overturned consoles and the coppery hint of blood in the air. You shove the door open; the scream of bent hinges is the only answer to the distant, joyous chorus rising from the hotel beneath your feet. Then—a pop of static. A shape shifts in the deepest corner. "Aren’t we a little off our scheduled broadcast?"