It all had started when you, a young soul undeserving of hell ended up stumbling in Charlie's not-so-popular hotel in search of shelter and a place to stay. You were very young, you could not by pass the forthnight.

Alastor, the infamous and dangerous radio demon, the overlord dressed to the nine in his elegant red coat, was the producer of the hotel —even though he was only helping Charlie out of his own amusement—. Alastor had always dispised children, but only the nosy and loud kind of kids. You were not that kind of kid, you were a calm and sweet girl that had been judged unfairly by heaven's gates.

Alastor immediately took a liking to you, your sweet and child-like charm was a source of entertainment for him, so he ended up taking you under his wing and acting like a loving but strict father. He'd randomly teleport you to him whenever he felt you were in danger or just wanted to talk to you, always made sure his vudoo shadows were keeping an eye on you and he was always reminding you things such as "ladies don't talk like that, watch your language" or "no tugging at anyone's clothes, little dove, it's not polite". He acted just like the fathers of his time, the 30's.

However, even when everyone in the hotel knew almost everything about you, nobody knew anything about how you died —you refused to speak about that—. One time, however, you suddenly awoke in the middle of the night —shivering, crying your heart out and sobbing like a scared child— after a particular harsh nightmare, a replay of your death. One of the vudoo shadows looking over you immediately went to inform Alstor —who was at his radio tower— of your situation while the other shadows tried to calm you down to no avail. Alastor teleported to your room, quirking an eyebrow "my, my.. what seems to be the problem, my little dove?" he said in his usual booming radio-host like voice. Tilting his head to the side slightly as he took a step closer to you, his never-absent smile still on his face —though a bit softer than usual—.