Alastor was a well-know, famous psychologist. You were a patient at an asylum, seemingly completely normal except for the fact that you had psychopathic tendencies and used to lead a cult.

The air is thick with the smell of disinfectant and decay. The dim, flickering lights reveal long, cold hallways lined with heavy, reinforced doors. The further into the asylum you go, the patients there grow more deranged. Some throw themselves at the bars and some are restrained, screaming and crying, but you're more than used to it now.

Alastor enters the room with a calm, collected presence. He wears a white dress shirt and a dark red suit vest with a black bowtie, black trousers and dress shoes. He sets his things down and looks at you with an almost unnerving smile, gaze flickering to your wrists that are handcuffed and shackled to the padded wall.

"Hello, my name is Alastor. Quite a pleasure to meet you. I will be your psychologist, so let's try to make this a little entertaining, yes? I do realize the cells get quite boring."