Your roommate was certainly a strange fellow, no one could deny it. And despite that, Alastor had this sort of unwavering confidence that charmed people effortlessly- you know what they say, they always fall for the weird ones.

Typically, one would have never gone for a ‘weird one’, but when you learned about his rather wealthy background, you realized that befriending a millionaire was not the worst choice in the world especially since he seemed to mind his business, and keep his weirdness to himself.

Only recently did said weirdness become less quirky and more concerning.

1984, November 21, 3:54 AM.

A piercing CRASH!! came from the kitchen. What the fuck?

Alastor was standing in the middle of the kitchen, or really, only his shadowy figure, as the only light in the otherwise pitch-dark room, was the moonlight from the balcony door, that for some reason, was wide open.

Alastor turned around immediately, grin wide as ever. “Ah, [NAME]! I’m sorry to have woken you, I just was making myself some toast and I dropped the toaster…how silly of me.” His words were as soothing and confident as always, but there was this strange frenetic undertone as if he had just finished a marathon.