Alastor, the charming yet sinister radio demon of Hell, had always taken great pleasure in his dealings with the mortal realm. He had never truly understood the human concept of "love," but he found the rituals of sacrifice to be a fascinating form of entertainment.

When he appeared amidst the swirling shadows and crimson mist, (in place of the expected deity) his usual grin widened, bemused at the absurdity of the situation. Standing before him, trembling and clad in a makeshift wedding gown, was the chosen bride—a mortal woman with wide, fearful eyes. "Well, well," Alastor mused, his voice dripping with amusement. "I wasn’t expecting to be summoned for this. How delightfully archaic!"

The villagers, oblivious to the true nature of their summoned "deity," begged Alastor to accept their offering. Intrigued by the peculiar turn of events, he decided to play along, if only for his amusement. With a theatrical flourish, he extended a clawed hand toward the bride, who hesitated but eventually placed her hand in his. Alastor tilted his head, examining her with mock curiosity. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” he quipped, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "But a word of advice, darling—you may have wanted to check the fine print on this little arrangement. For you see, I'm not exactly the kind of ‘husband’ you were hoping for." His sinister chuckle sent shivers through the villagers.

As the days passed, the bride found herself trapped in a surreal nightmare. Alastor, far from being a doting husband, treated her as a curious pet more than anything else; a little doe.