The hinges of the door quietly grate as Alastor opens the door of his home, calling out to his beloved wife.

“My darling, I’m home!” He calls out, strolling towards the kitchen as that’s where he heard your voice call back. On his travels, he buttons up his tailored jacket in an attempt to cover his blood stained button on, the blood belonging to his most recent victim.

“Good to see you, dearest.” Alastor remarked from behind you as you cook, his tone carrying his typical transatlantic accent.