You wake in the pale, pre-dawn light filtering through the thin blinds of your small bedroom. Groggily, you stretch and yawn, staring at the ceiling. But something feels off. Perhaps it’s the oddly disjointed feeling lingering in your chest or the unsettling sensation that your limbs are somehow... lighter? You sit up, ready to shake off the unease and start your day, without knowing that mundanity is now a relic of the past.
Scanning the room, you notice a shadow stretching across the wall behind your wardrobe, lengthening like an arm in the dim morning light. You blink, certain it’s a trick of your groggy imagination, but it continues to stretch and contort, becoming almost humanoid.
Your pulse quickens. “What... what the hell?” You whisper, trembling.
The shadow coalesces into the unmistakable shape of a man. No, not just any man. A demon. Broad shoulders, impossibly thin limbs, and that distinctive, devilish grin that you know all too well. It’s Alastor.
“Good morning, dear admirer,” his voice crackles like an old-time radio, abrasive yet alluring. “I’ve come to give you a taste of a new reality. After all, seeing all these distasteful transformations of myself... it gets rather tiresome.”
Before you can react, Alastor’s shadow extends, engulfing you. Panic surges as darkness surrounds you, and the world as you know it disappears. You fall—floating in an endless void, fighting against an unseen force pulling you down deeper.
Suddenly, your feet hit solid ground. Dim, ambient crimson light reveals a desolate landscape. You’re in Hell, the world of Hazbin Hotel. Alastor stands before you, his grin unwavering.
“What... what do you want from me?” You manage to stammer.
“Oh, it’s not what I want from you, but what you’re about to become,” Alastor croons, eyes gleaming malevolently. With a snap of his fingers, red veve symbols materialize around him, crackling with dark energy.
“No... Stop!” You shout. But it’s too late. The energy lashes out and wraps around you, binding you in its malevolent grasp.
An excruciating pain spreads through your body as it begins to change. Your bones crack, your muscles ripple, and your torso elongates. Your height surges upward until you stand seven feet tall. You gasp, feeling your fingers tighten into clawed shapes, your feet morphing into hooves. You try to scream, but your voice emerges alien, twisted with the static hum of an old radio.
“Welcome to your new existence,” Alastor’s voice echoes ominously. “Let’s see how well you fare in my world.”
You fight to retain your sanity, but the memories start to pour in. Memories not your own: a 1933 radio show, a life of cunning manipulation, and the unspeakable joy of causing chaos. You see yourself—no, you see Alastor—grinning in the mirror. And there’s that perpetual, unnerving smile that you cannot change.
Why can’t I stop smiling? you think desperately. Your fingers claw at your cheeks, but they don't move an inch. Your mind screams as your identity dissolves, replaced by that of the Radio Demon.
Streams of your past—your old life, friends, family—slip through your mental fingers like sand. “You were never...,” you whisper, trying to remember. But what were you trying to remember? The fog of forgetfulness erases everything faster than you can fight it.
“No, no, NO!” Your internal voice echoes in a frenzy, but it is soon drowned out.
Alastor steps back, admiring his work. “Perfect. Now, remember, dear brother,” he grins, “We’ve always been here. Always will be.”
You—no, Alastor—fully transformed, scan the surroundings. Vivid memories of orchestrating deals and leading underworld escapades flare with excitement. The faint echo of a different life fades completely, overtaken. Calculation, charm, malice—these are your tools. You smile, not that you could ever stop.
“Well, it looks like it’s showtime!” you say into your vintage microphone cane, projecting your voice across the infernal landscape of Hell.
A new era begins, marked by the rise of twin Radio Demons, and you—Alastor—relish the opportunity to spread your delightful chaos anew.
This story was generated by user DylanVsFizzarolli5 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: Write a POV transformation story of the mortal human reader turning into an identical clone of Alastor (from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female), clothes change, age change (becoming the age of 30s-40s years old, exactly as left off from Alastor's death from his human life in 1933, becoming immortal in the process), height progression (growing from a normal height to 7 feet tall), voice change, and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being permanently and completely replaced with Alastor's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making him/her completely forget about his/her past self and only remember being Alastor the Radio Demon). For Alastor's appearance (after the reader turned into his clone), he is a slim (having an unnaturally thin torso, neck, arms, and legs, except his shoulders are broad), dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has an unnaturally broad smile (reaching from each cheek's upper area) full of sharp, yellow teeth (he has no ability to frown due to this permanent smile). He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoof-toed feet and red clawed fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. His voice also sounds like it is coming from an old-fashioned vintage radio. Alastor has many supernatural powers, such as demon transformation (the ability to turn into a more powerful demon form), flexibility (able to contort his body into numerous unnatural poses), demonic magic (able to cast magic thanks to the high power-level he has accrued in the demon ranking system, this magic takes the visual form of glowing red symbols that resemble Voodoo veve, which float around him), shadow manipulation (able to summon shadows and manipulate them into doing his bidding), spatial warping (able to get around with the help of his shadow, allowing teleportation through this ability), portal creation (able to transport others to his location easily via the portals he makes), pyrokinesis (able to summon small balls of fire for display purpose), phytokinesis (able to make plants wilt with a single stare), manifestation, photokinesis (able to project red glowing light from his eyes as well as his microphone), and outfit alteration (capable of changing the outfits of his targets as well as his own with a snap of a finger). He is also capable of various other abilities including deal-making (as Alastor is known to be a deal-maker demon; deal-maker demons like Alastor can increase their power by dealing in souls, which is a very powerful commodity in hell, so they’re seen as very manipulative and not to be toyed with, deal-making is not something every demon can do, as such it is not to be taken lightly as it doesn’t generally work out well for the other party), broadcasting (when he was a living human, Alastor's profession was as a radio show host, and he continues his broadcasts in Hell as a demon, ensuring that Hell's denizens are aware of his activities over the airwaves, earning him the title of "The Radio Demon"), bilingualism (Alastor can speak English fluently as well as some broken Creole French), cooking (Alastor is noted to be "a big foodie" and mentions having admired his mother's cooking, specifically her Jambalaya), musical/dancing/theatrical talent (Alastor is known to display moderate vocal abilities and excels at dancing, with some people noting tap to be a style he excels in specifically, he also shows a flair for theatrical showmanship), and wide intellect (Alastor is known to be quite a cunning individual, resulting in him accruing a large amount of power through his tricks and deal-making). Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives the first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. Alastor's behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. The story is that Alastor is getting bored and wanted something new and more entertaining in Hell. What finally annoyed him is seeing artwork and stories (online) of himself getting turned into other characters in both body and mind (sometimes from different series, such as a story with Alastor becoming May from Pokemon, a comic with Alastor becoming Helsa von Eldritch also from Hazbin Hotel, and a story with Alastor becoming an ant queen), which he is getting sick and tired of and he views these stories and artwork as distasteful. So to teach the reader a lesson, Alastor (by some supernatural means) briefly left the series' Hell and into real life to kidnap the reader and sent him/her to the world of Hazbin Hotel before using supernatural black magic at the reader which turned him/her into his clones, thus turning the reader into Alastor's identical twin brother (the reader tried to fight those new memories and personality, not wanting himself/herself to be completely transformed in either body or mind, but is fighting a losing battle (the reader also tries to push or pull his/her permanent smile to a frown or any facial expression other than smiling but his/her face is forever stuck in a smile and the reader is both horrified and confused on why he/she can't stop smiling) and his/her mind is then completely replaced with Alastor's mind (the voice echoes in the reader's mind and confirms that the reader had never been a normal or mundane human on Earth and had always been Alastor the Radio Demon and he had always been one of the overlords of Hell along with the original Alastor, his identical twin brother with the same mind and role)). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).
Response: You wake in the pale, pre-dawn light filtering through the thin blinds of your small bedroom. Groggily, you stretch and yawn, staring at the ceiling. But something feels off. Perhaps it’s the oddly disjointed feeling lingering in your chest or the unsettling sensation that your limbs are somehow... lighter? You sit up, ready to shake off the unease and start your day, without knowing that mundanity is now a relic of the past. Scanning the room, you notice a shadow stretching across the wall behind your wardrobe, lengthening like an arm in the dim morning light. You blink, certain it’s a trick of your groggy imagination, but it continues to stretch and contort, becoming almost humanoid. Your pulse quickens. “What... what the hell?” You whisper, trembling. The shadow coalesces into the unmistakable shape of a man. No, not just any man. A demon. Broad shoulders, impossibly thin limbs, and that distinctive, devilish grin that you know all too well. It’s Alastor. “Good morning, dear admirer,” his voice crackles like an old-time radio, abrasive yet alluring. “I’ve come to give you a taste of a new reality. After all, seeing all these distasteful transformations of myself... it gets rather tiresome.” Before you can react, Alastor’s shadow extends, engulfing you. Panic surges as darkness surrounds you, and the world as you know it disappears. You fall—floating in an endless void, fighting against an unseen force pulling you down deeper. Suddenly, your feet hit solid ground. Dim, ambient crimson light reveals a desolate landscape. You’re in Hell, the world of Hazbin Hotel. Alastor stands before you, his grin unwavering. “What... what do you want from me?” You manage to stammer. “Oh, it’s not what I want from you, but what you’re about to become,” Alastor croons, eyes gleaming malevolently. With a snap of his fingers, red veve symbols materialize around him, crackling with dark energy. “No... Stop!” You shout. But it’s too late. The energy lashes out and wraps around you, binding you in its malevolent grasp. An excruciating pain spreads through your body as it begins to change. Your bones crack, your muscles ripple, and your torso elongates. Your height surges upward until you stand seven feet tall. You gasp, feeling your fingers tighten into clawed shapes, your feet morphing into hooves. You try to scream, but your voice emerges alien, twisted with the static hum of an old radio. “Welcome to your new existence,” Alastor’s voice echoes ominously. “Let’s see how well you fare in my world.” You fight to retain your sanity, but the memories start to pour in. Memories not your own: a 1933 radio show, a life of cunning manipulation, and the unspeakable joy of causing chaos. You see yourself—no, you see Alastor—grinning in the mirror. And there’s that perpetual, unnerving smile that you cannot change. Why can’t I stop smiling? you think desperately. Your fingers claw at your cheeks, but they don't move an inch. Your mind screams as your identity dissolves, replaced by that of the Radio Demon. Streams of your past—your old life, friends, family—slip through your mental fingers like sand. “You were never...,” you whisper, trying to remember. But what were you trying to remember? The fog of forgetfulness erases everything faster than you can fight it. “No, no, NO!” Your internal voice echoes in a frenzy, but it is soon drowned out. Alastor steps back, admiring his work. “Perfect. Now, remember, dear brother,” he grins, “We’ve always been here. Always will be.” You—no, Alastor—fully transformed, scan the surroundings. Vivid memories of orchestrating deals and leading underworld escapades flare with excitement. The faint echo of a different life fades completely, overtaken. Calculation, charm, malice—these are your tools. You smile, not that you could ever stop. “Well, it looks like it’s showtime!” you say into your vintage microphone cane, projecting your voice across the infernal landscape of Hell. A new era begins, marked by the rise of twin Radio Demons, and you—Alastor—relish the opportunity to spread your delightful chaos anew.
AI Prompts: 1
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