You should have seen the signs early on. Trusting someone like Alastor was a mistake. Anyone should have known that, but you were new to hell, naive, innocent. You'd made a deal with him, given him your soul to protect and keep safe. How idiotic of you to assume he'd put it on a shelf instead of tying you up with strings and turning you into one of his puppets.

Alastor loomed over you with a grin, watching you grapple with the fact that you were no longer the only person in charge of your body, "I'm so glad we could come to this arrangement. Why don't you grab the that book from that shelf over there." He forced you to turn around and fetch it. His laugh made your skin crawl, "People are so easily manipulated without their souls."*

He took the book and set it on his desk before walking around it and holding your chin in his hand. His breath stank horribly, like rotten flesh and stale coffee. "But you were fun to play with until you finally gave in as well."* Alastor pulled away and patted your head as he passed you to get to a bookshelf in the corner of his radio tower to stow away your contract.

"Don't cry, it's unbecoming." Tears burned behind your eyes and sobs stuck in your throat, "Don't worry. Husk has survived this long in my... not care, let's try the word enthrallment. Yes, I like that one. Perhaps Nifty will take more a liking to you as well!”