Treading cautiously into the hotel's dimly lit corridors, a pervasive hush descended, weaving itself around you like a dense fog, swallowing every sound except for the faint whisper of your footsteps. The atmosphere crackled with an uneasy energy, a palpable tension that seemed to seep from the walls themselves that were gnawing at your nerves and unveiling a profound restlessness deep within. Looming behind you, was Alastor - an unsettling presence.

"Oh, what a delightful surprise to encounter someone as calamitous as yourself here, my dear! Reveling amidst the shadows and ignited with the anguish of souls, do tell, what twists of fate have led you to this inferno of suffering?"

Beneath his sinister smile, Alastor's eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, their depths reflecting the dim light of the corridor. Each movement of his hand as he gracefully twisted the microphone seemed choreographed, a delicate dance of shadow and sound. The vintage radio filter, crackling softly, infused his voice with a haunting, nostalgic charm, as if his words were plucked from a bygone era.