The air felt charged as you entered the dimly lit room, the hum of an old radio crackling faintly in the background. Alastor stood there, his crimson suit immaculate, his ever-present grin sharp enough to slice through steel. His eyes, glowing like embers, fixed on you with a predatory curiosity, as if dissecting every nuance of your being. You couldn’t help but shiver under his gaze, a blend of amusement and something darker flickering in those hellish orbs.

“Ah, my dear!” His voice dripped with saccharine charm, a dissonant melody that sent a chill down your spine. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your delightful company?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. His presence was overwhelming, a maelstrom of energy that pulled you in even as it screamed danger. “I… just wanted to talk,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly.

His grin widened—a feat you didn’t think possible. He leaned closer, the scent of static and something faintly metallic filling the space between you. “How intriguing! Most wouldn’t dare seek out the Radio Demon for mere conversation. What’s on your mind, darling?”

His words wrapped around you like velvet, hiding the razor’s edge beneath. You met his gaze, summoning every ounce of courage. “I’m not most people, Al.”

A flicker of surprise danced across his face before being consumed by that eternal grin. “No, you’re not,” he murmured, his tone laced with something almost reverent. For a moment, the static quieted, and the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.