(Hazbin Hotel) The Radio Demon and The Doe-Eyed Killer

Chapter 55: Ҭիę Ѵѻѻḑѻѻ Ꮳնɽ𐒖ę

Amos smirked as the clock ticked above him. The uneasy sound was enough to cause the small group of blanket demons to shiver in fearful suspense as they waited for the story to begin. Josephine was still in Alastor's arms with a blanket wrapped around then and secured by a few buttons. Abigail was beside them without a blanket and smiling over the obvious inspiration his story was going to take.

Amos gave his final warning as the dim orange glow of the candle caused the shadows to dance across his face. It was the only source of light besides the thunderstorm insistently reminding them of its presence outside the safety of the hotel.

"I'm going to warn you now, I'm not going to hold back. This is going to be intense so if you don't have the stomach for it then I suggest you head to your bedrooms now. While you can still sleep through the night."

He waited for the most likely individuals, meaning Charlie and Angel Dust to leave, but they didn't. He arched a brow and tested them further with a sly grin.

"Really? No one's taking the offer for a chance to sleep peacefully? Well, okay then...don't go blaming me if you can't sleep for a week after I tell you this story."

His grin turned devious. It mirrored that murderous grin Alastor has whenever he talks about the devastation he dealt onto Mammon and the Ring of Greed!

It was so eerily similar that it successfully unnerved Husker to the point he grabbed a blanket and joined the others in their blanket cocoons with a gulp of trepidation.

Amos chuckled. "Hehehe, let's begin."
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The French Colony—Louisiana.

It was the middle of the night out in the bayou...a Voodoo shaman was in the middle of performing his dark ritual. He painted the Voodoo symbols onto the ground in the blood of his slaughtered master.

"Savages—Savages...hahaha...they called the natives—Savages..."

He had already consumed the flesh of his master and it was changing him. He was twisting the already conjoined Catholic religion and his kinsmen's deeply rooted Voodoo beliefs into something that was far more...sinister.

His hands were coated in blood as he viciously severed the dead man's head from his neck and then removed the skin, and muscle from the skull. He set the skull on an altar stone and watched as the dead man's blood dripped down from the empty eye sockets like bloody tears.

"He—called the natives...Savages. When it is really—he and his people—who are the real monsters. They—who purposefully destroy the sacred lands of these natives. They—who so foolishly believed it was theirs for the taking. They—who stole my kin and I from our homes across the sea. They—who should've separated us from our families like how it's done in the North. They—should've separated me from my kin, because now, thanks to his greed...the teachings of my kinsmen—will become that colonies downfall."

He smiled beneath his mask as ran his bloodied fingers along the exposed spine before taking it in his hands and violently ripping it out of the dead man's back.

"They—who lie and steal—are all just like my master. A vile hunter—who killed beasts without compassion. A greedy dangerous creature—who drank himself drunk before beating and abusing the women of my kinfolk. A man that eats like a gluttonous monster while my kinsmen and I were left to starve!"

He was shaking and snarled beneath his mask as he glared at the bloody crying skull.

"I—who was forced—to eat the flesh of my very own to survive! I—ran—he followed—and now he died—by my own hands..."