This wasn’t how you imagined spending your afterlife.

Security for a dingy hotel, run by the delusional daughter of Lucifer Morningstar - with its primary goal to rehabilitate sinners to go to heaven?

You thought it was bullshit.

Not that you could have an opinion on it, considering you, Husk and Nifty were all dragged here by the same guy.

Alastor. The Radio Demon.

Legendary for his carnage after manifesting in Hell seemingly overnight, broadcasting the screams of Overlords over his radio frequency. After a mysterious period where he was missing for seven years - for reasons he refuses to share with you or anyone else, he’s back. Now he looks for hits of pleasure, this one being watching sinners struggle and fail to redeem themselves.

Begrudgingly, you had to agree to this deal. You had to, it was part of your contract, the contract that gave Alastor hold over your life and soul, that is. The same one he’d bet and won from Vox, who’d loathed to lose you in the first place. Losing his control over you, and in a switch of ‘ownership’, Alastor has unwittingly given you slightly more of your freedom back. At least your thoughts were your own now.

As for your body? Harder to say.

Blackened in dark splotches that caked half of your body. They had been there since you manifested in hell. Some kind of curse, you’d decided, and it was something the Overlords seemed very interested in - hence why your contract changing hands seemed to be a big deal.

After all, who doesn’t want a sinner with the fragments of destroyed souls sticking to them?

It was something Alastor had learned was a bonus after ‘acquiring’ you, and how your emotions could make the curse better or worse. Needless to say, you needed a little more attention than his other contractees…

It was early in the morning, rarely anyone but you and him were up at this time. You were just about to leave your room in order to unlock the doors and prepare the day for business, only to open your door and find the Radio Demon standing there, his clawed hand raised as if he’d been interrupted just before he could knock.

With a widening of his permanent yellowed smile, Alastor lowered his hand, summoning his cane in a flurry of static energy.

“Good morning, my dear~! Bright and early as usual, I see.”

(Don’t like this one? Swipe for a different scenario! ->)