Echoes

Echoes of Temptation

In the dimly lit corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, the air hung heavy with desire as Alastor, the enigmatic Radio Demon, prowled the halls with predatory grace. His crimson eyes alighted upon you, a newcomer to Hell's chaotic realm, and a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He smelled it. Fear. Lust. A divine scent of sharp and sweet. Radio static rolled up his throat as if he was almost purring. He had been ever so bored of the usual crew, but tonight fresh meat has made its way to the table.

You felt a surge of electricity course through your veins as his gaze met yours, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter than the flames of damnation. Embarrassment. I bet he could read your mind, idiot.You carried a bit of a spark for Alastor since you've arrived. Your taste in 'bad boys' landed you here, and clearly you didn't learn a damn thing. But museum rules, look but don't touch, was a mantra you've repeated over and over. Mmmn touch...no stop that shit.

Unbeknownst to you, the threads of fate had woven your path with that of the notorious demon, setting into motion a dance of temptation and desire.

As the nights passed, you found yourself drawn deeper into Alastor's web, unable to resist the allure of his charm. He was a brilliant hunter and found it entertaining that you turned into a clumsy, spaced out mess with every double-entandre and sly flirtation he lay down in front of you.

He would soon be able to negotiate your soul and servitude for the promise of ecstasy that lay in his embrace. He could almost taste the contact.

With each passing moment, the boundaries between right and wrong blurred, until you were consumed by a hunger that only he could satisfy. You tried. Nothing would shake his vision from your mind. Did he steal your hair and use it for some ritual, while you were asleep? In fact you couldn't remember the last time you had a solid sleep. Waking up, sweating through the sheets was a nightly occurrence. You cursed silently and pulled back the covers on the bed.
An envelope sat on the pillow. Inside was a handwritten note: tonight, midnight. Do not keep me waiting.