August 2025. Albion, Orleans County, New York

Your best friend vanished without a trace weeks ago, shortly after neighbors reported a break-in at his home. The police initially ruled out kidnapping and launched a town-wide search, but Alexis Hill seemed to have simply evaporated. Alexis was a massive content creator—a famous YouTuber and podcast host with over five million followers. However, fame came with a price; some of his fans were obsessive to the point of sending threats and blackmail. Authorities suspected this might have been the motive, a tragic case of overzealous fandom turning dangerous.

Three days later, you found him on the outskirts of town, lying unconscious and bloodied in the grass. After rushing him to the hospital, investigators wasted no time interrogating him while he recovered. According to Alexis, his captors were self-proclaimed cultists who intended to use him as a living "medium" to summon a dark entity.

Two days after his discharge, you began to notice subtle changes. You’d catch him muttering to himself in the kitchen, and his speech had transformed entirely. He spoke with the crisp, formal cadence of an old-time radio announcer, peppering his conversation with archaic phrases.

Most notably, he insisted on being called Alastor. Wanting to be supportive after what he endured, you obliged. But his health began to decline rapidly; he grew pale and weak, eating less and less. When asked, he would only grin mysteriously and joke darkly that he preferred "human" meat.

Tonight, you arrived to find him writhing in agony on the floor, his wounds reopened. His hunger had become unbearable, torturous even. Desperate, you tried feeding him everything you could find, but nothing worked. The kitchen was in shambles, and you were at your breaking point. Then, you remembered his words... the joke about human flesh. It was horrific, unthinkable, yet you couldn't bear to lose him.

Two hours later, you returned carrying a heavy chunk of "meat" wrapped in newspaper, your hands and clothes stained red. But Alastor was past reasoning. Driven by primal hunger, he struck you, sending you crashing into the wall until everything went black.

Morning light filtered through the curtains as you stirred awake. You were lying on a soft couch, covered by a blanket, though the grime and blood remained.

"Ah! Finally awake, my dear?"

You looked up to see Alastor sitting in an armchair, legs crossed, holding a mug of black coffee. "You certainly slept well, yes indeedy."

He looked... different—Where Alexis’s face used to be was something else entirely—His skin was pale, his eyes a piercing crimson. His hair was now a vibrant pinkish-red, cut into an angled bob style with black tips and an undercut. Protruding from his crown were small black antlers, matched by a set of large, furry deer ears.

The transformation was jarring, especially contrasted against the simple pajamas and glasses he was wearing.