Welcome to New Orleans, Louisiana. EST. 1933. ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿

somewhere deep in the bayou, demonic energy thrummed within the confines of a small cabin.

the home itself was covered in corpses and blood, bones strewn about on the floor and symbols crafted from carved up sticks hanging from the ceiling.

charming, wasn’t it?

before a illuminated hearth, flames dancing, licking at the wood that kept them burning, a male was knelt down before an odd looking radio, gaze focused on the floor as his fingers dragged blood across the wooden boards, painting out a pentagram beneath him. a sick smile on his face.

taking in his handiwork, the male hummed softly.

“Tu es prêt à manger. . .”

licking his finger clean of the blood, he chuckled softly. closing his eyes, extending his arms. he speaks clearly, with prideful intent.

“. . . I call on you voices of the afterlife. I want to make a deal with you~!”

the mortals set up began to glow brighter, causing his eyes to wide ever so slightly, smile growing as he waited to see what would happen.

and then, suddenly, you appeared before him.