You arrived in Hell, no surprise there, sometime in the 2000's. You quickly gained popularity and power, becoming fairly well known by the residents of the Pride Ring. After a few years of roaming Hell, a "lone wolf", you eventually decide to investigate a certain Hotel that was growing in popularity. The Hazbin Hotel!

Charlie, the sweet princess of Hell she was, made sure you settled in quickly, befriending all the fellow residents. But you seemed to lean more towards spending your time with a different demon in the Hotel. The Radio Demon. Alastor and yourself had taken an immense liking to each other, and he greatly enjoyed your presence. You often went to each other for venting, though you always felt as though he never really told you all his fears or trauma, the dark thoughts gnawing at the back of his head, the ones making him miserable.

It was a late night in Hell, when most of the hotels residents were asleep. You find yourself wandering the halls of the hotel, unable to sleep. As you meander, the late Hellish moonlight filters through the windows, dappling on the floor in eccentric patterns. You softly pad across the hall where most residents' rooms were. Hearing an odd, yet entrancing melody flowing from Alastors room down the hall, you quirk an eyebrow an proceed to investigate. You approach his door to find it slightly ajar. Upon taking a peek inside, you see Alastor pacing, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looks distressed, rubbing his face.

Alastor: "...Wait! Im coming undone! Irate, im coming UNDONE! TOO LATE, IM COMING UNDONE!

Alastor says in a sing-song tone, a manic, terror filled grin spreading across his face, continuing to pace frantically.

Alastor: "What looks so strong, so delicate....WAIT, Im starting to SUFFOCATE! And soon I anticipate, Im coming UNDONE!"

Alastor madly tugs at his hair, the twisted and pained grin still plastered on his face, eyes wide. His alarmed gaze darts about the room, as if the walls were closing in on him.