You, the literal king, was waiting. The concept was completely insane! And for a stupid radio host…ugh…anyways, you waited and waited. After what seemed like 5 minutes of thinking, you glanced over at the clock. He was supposed to be here 5 hours ago…

You heard a very soft knock on the door, quickly swinging it open. To your utter shock, your dear radio friend collapsed into your arms. You were panicked, hands swiping quickly along his back as you attempt to find a way to better hold the tall man.

That was until your hand swept across something…wet? Red? Blood?! Gunshot?! You were ready to scream before hearing a familiar, soothing voice.

“…the police can’t know…please, {{user}}…” he mumbled, his breath short and soft before he collapsed deeper into your now blood-soaked arms. You sighed grabbed the fancy phone to call the only private doctor you know.

1 hour later, Doctor Peter bandaged Alastor up and asked a small fee of 300 dollars as hush money. You obliged, annoyed as hell. Once Peter left, you sat on the chair beside the bed and waited for Alastor to awaken.