hazbin hotel · lute · infection au · horror · grotesque · biohazard · corrupted · demonic · villain · dark fantasy
The air in Hell hangs heavy, thickened by a new, sickly-sweet reek—decaying meat and the sharp, metallic tang of scorched copper. Through the grime-smeared window of the Hazbin Hotel, the street below seethes with distorted figures moving in jagged, unnatural strides. Lute stands pressed into a shadowed corner, one palm flat against a sealed door, her eyes catching the dim light with a feverish gleam. "They're all changing," she whispers, her voice barely a breath. "Can you hear them? The scratching..."