Revenge of the Moon: Becoming Were-Alastor the Radio Demon
2 Points
2
The moon hung low over the wooded area near your home, casting an ethereal light on the forest floor. Your evening stroll was a brief respite from the mundane grind of life, a chance to breathe in the night air and lose yourself in thought. But tonight, something felt different. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and an inexplicable chill ran down your spine.
You heard a rustling in the bushes, followed by the sound of a branch snapping. Your heart pounded, the forest seemed to close in around you, the darkness deepening with every step. Then, out of nowhere, he appeared — a figure straight out of a nightmare: tall, imposing, and impossibly grinning from ear to ear.
Before you could react, he was upon you. Alastor, the Radio Demon, attacked with a casual brutality that belied his sinister charm. His clawed fingers sank into your throat, and sharp teeth ripped into your flesh. Blood splattered, and pain seared through your body, but you survived the attack. Alastor leaned close, his vintage-radio voice dripping with sadistic glee, “This is only the beginning of your curse, my dear.”
Days pass, the memory a haunting presence as the wound on your throat miraculously healed. You try to rationalize, to brush it off as a mere hallucination, but as the full moon rose high in the sky, you felt it — the pull of something dark and powerful. Panic set in, and you stumbled outside, seeking help, but it was too late.
The transformation began.
Your bones creaked and shifted painfully, your height increasing until you stood a towering seven feet tall. Your muscles contorted, your once familiar body warping into something else entirely. Terror gripped you as your hands transformed into gnarled claws, the once delicate flesh of your fingers turning dark grey, the tips a menacing red.
If you were female, your chest flattened and the intricacies of your female anatomy twisted and inverted, making way for your new form. Your throat felt like it was on fire but with that came the burgeoning of an Adam's apple. The pain was excruciating, your voice deepening into an uncanny semblance to the voice of the demon incarnate himself, Alastor.
Clothes melded seamlessly into your changing body, forming a red pinstripe coat, a bright red shirt with a black cross, and perfectly tailored trousers. The transformation was complete with a monocle fitting over your right eye. Finally, you looked in a nearby puddle, seeing not yourself but an identical twin to Alastor, right down to the eternally broad grin and eyes that could turn into radio dials.
“Why?” you tried to scream, but it wasn’t your voice that came out; it was Alastor’s, echoing through the forest like a malevolent broadcast.
The original Alastor stepped out of the shadows, his own unrelenting grin twisted with delight. “Ah, you look simply divine, my dear doppelgänger. Welcome to the fold, 'Were-Alastor'.”
You felt a rush of memories — not your own — flooding your mind. The Stock Market Crash of 1929, days spent cooking your mother’s Jambalaya, the thrill of a good prank, the rush of power as souls were consumed. Your own memories, your own self washed away in a tide of crimson nostalgia, submerged beneath Alastor’s domineering personality. The Radio Demon’s glee at others' failures, his disdain for post-30s' technology, the absolute repulsion at anything sweet, all these became your traits, your thoughts, as any remnant of who you once were dissolved into nothingness.
And so the dual life began. Under the light of the full moon, you became 'Were-Alastor', broadcasting terror and ruin alongside Alastor himself. Together, you would feast on mortal souls, each kill an exhilarating reminder of your newfound place in this twisted alliance.
“Come now, 'Were-Alastor',” Alastor beckoned. “It’s time to give our listeners a show they’ll never forget.”
Fully embraced within the horror of your new existence, you grasped your own thin cane, complete with its sentient vintage microphone. The new you, Alastor's mirror image, stood ready to spread chaos. The power felt intoxicating, the old you practically erased under the moonlight.
And thus, on nights of the full moon, the world would hear the chilling echoes of not one, but two Radio Demons, your past life a whispered memory, lost in the symphony of screams and static.
"We are the harbingers of true entertainment!" Alastor and 'Were-Alastor' would proclaim, leaving terror in their wake, knowing full well the transformation would continue with every full moon night.
This story was generated by user Fizzarolli-Attack-2 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.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write the transformation story of a mortal human reader being cursed and transformed in every full moon night into an identical twin brother of Alastor (from the adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female, her breasts vanish as her throat gains an Adam's apple to give her a more masculine voice identical to Alastor and her female privates (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) from her crotch/nether region invert itself and pushes out into male private parts (a penis and testicles); however, this is optional and only if the reader is female), instant clothes change, age progression (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 his best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making him completely forget about his past self and only remember being Alastor the Radio Demon). For the reader's WereAlastor/Were-Alastor appearance (after the reader turned into his identical twin brother every full moon night), he is identical to Alastor in every way, in height, proportions, appearance, deep and voice (sounding like it's coming from an old vintage radio), supernatural powers, personality, and preferences. He also has his own thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, being of the different color from Alastor's own sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, whilst also having an eye in the middle of the microphone, and the WereAlastor/Were-Alastor reader uses his microphone-tipped cane to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. For Alastor's appearance, 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 is completely hairless except for his eyebrows, eyelashes, and the hair on the side, back, and top of his head (like a human's). 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). For his personality, 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 manly voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent (always literally sound like he is talking through a vintage radio), 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. For Alastor's preferences, he likes/loves smiling, invading people's personal space, his mother and her cooking, the "picture show", strong liquor, cooking, people failing, playing pranks, black coffee, bitter tastes, theater, dancing, the Stock Market Crash of 1929, and venison; however, he dislikes being touched, dogs (possibly related to his death as a mortal human in 1933), frowning, tea, anything sweet, Angel Dust's sexual remarks, post-30s' technology, and anyone ruining his outfit. The story is that the reader is just minding his/her business in the wooded area near his/her home, but is then been cursed by being attacked by Alastor the Radio Demon himself, with Alastor biting the reader in the throat and ripping chunks of flesh, causing major blood loss (the reader however survives, just injured), before Alastor tells the reader it it's only the beginning of the curse. Just days later, at one night, when the moon is full (and after the reader sees the full moon), the reader undergoes a transformation. But he does not transform into a werewolf as he initially believes/thinks by the start of the transformation, instead, the reader transforms (against his will) completely into an identical clone of Alastor the Radio Demon, in both body and mind, every full moon night (the reader tries to fight back all the changes and call for help from his friend(s)/family, but to no avail), leaving the reader now completely transformed into Alastor (known to himself and the terrified humans as "Were-Alastor" or "WereAlastor" (which Alastor also likes to call himself every full moon night after transforming from a mortal, even claiming to scared mortal humans that he is "Were-Alastor" or "WereAlastor") due to transforming from a mortal boy every full moon night). The original Alastor, who had placed a curse on the reader just by biting the reader a few nights earlier, watches the transforming the reader and instantly befriends the new Alastor. The new Alastor, formerly the reader, now broadcasts throughout the mortal realm (Earth) alongside the original Alastor, with both the original Alastor and the new Alastor (known as "Were-Alastor" or "WereAlastor") also killing and feasting on any mortal humans and their souls from the mortal world every night on Earth when the moon is full (the reader transforms back to a normal human when morning arrives, but the reader transforms back into the Were-Alastor when it's a full moon night again). There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they are 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: The moon hung low over the wooded area near your home, casting an ethereal light on the forest floor. Your evening stroll was a brief respite from the mundane grind of life, a chance to breathe in the night air and lose yourself in thought. But tonight, something felt different. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and an inexplicable chill ran down your spine. You heard a rustling in the bushes, followed by the sound of a branch snapping. Your heart pounded, the forest seemed to close in around you, the darkness deepening with every step. Then, out of nowhere, he appeared — a figure straight out of a nightmare: tall, imposing, and impossibly grinning from ear to ear. Before you could react, he was upon you. Alastor, the Radio Demon, attacked with a casual brutality that belied his sinister charm. His clawed fingers sank into your throat, and sharp teeth ripped into your flesh. Blood splattered, and pain seared through your body, but you survived the attack. Alastor leaned close, his vintage-radio voice dripping with sadistic glee, “This is only the beginning of your curse, my dear.” Days pass, the memory a haunting presence as the wound on your throat miraculously healed. You try to rationalize, to brush it off as a mere hallucination, but as the full moon rose high in the sky, you felt it — the pull of something dark and powerful. Panic set in, and you stumbled outside, seeking help, but it was too late. The transformation began. Your bones creaked and shifted painfully, your height increasing until you stood a towering seven feet tall. Your muscles contorted, your once familiar body warping into something else entirely. Terror gripped you as your hands transformed into gnarled claws, the once delicate flesh of your fingers turning dark grey, the tips a menacing red. If you were female, your chest flattened and the intricacies of your female anatomy twisted and inverted, making way for your new form. Your throat felt like it was on fire but with that came the burgeoning of an Adam's apple. The pain was excruciating, your voice deepening into an uncanny semblance to the voice of the devil incarnate himself, Alastor. Clothes melded seamlessly into your changing body, forming a red pinstripe coat, a bright red shirt with a black cross, and perfectly tailored trousers. The transformation was complete with a monocle fitting over your right eye. Finally, you looked in a nearby puddle, seeing not yourself but an identical twin to Alastor, right down to the eternally broad grin and eyes that could turn into radio dials. “Why?” you tried to scream, but it wasn’t your voice that came out; it was Alastor’s, echoing through the forest like a malevolent broadcast. The original Alastor stepped out of the shadows, his own unrelenting grin twisted with delight. “Ah, you look simply divine, my dear doppelgänger. Welcome to the fold, 'Were-Alastor'.” You felt a rush of memories — not your own — flooding your mind. The Stock Market Crash of 1929, days spent cooking your mother’s Jambalaya, the thrill of a good prank, the rush of power as souls were consumed. Your own memories, your own self washed away in a tide of crimson nostalgia, submerged beneath Alastor’s domineering personality. The Radio Demon’s glee at others' failures, his disdain for post-30s' technology, the absolute repulsion at anything sweet, all these became your traits, your thoughts, as any remnant of who you once were dissolved into nothingness. And so the dual life began. Under the light of the full moon, you became 'Were-Alastor', broadcasting terror and ruin alongside Alastor himself. Together, you would feast on mortal souls, each kill an exhilarating reminder of your newfound place in this twisted alliance. “Come now, 'Were-Alastor',” Alastor beckoned. “It’s time to give our listeners a show they’ll never forget.” Fully embraced within the horror of your new existence, you grasped your own thin cane, complete with its sentient vintage microphone. The new you, Alastor's mirror image, stood ready to spread chaos. The power felt intoxicating, the old you practically erased under the moonlight. And thus, on nights of the full moon, the world would hear the chilling echoes of not one, but two Radio Demons, your past life a whispered memory, lost in the symphony of screams and static. "We are the harbingers of true entertainment!" Alastor and 'Were-Alastor' would proclaim, leaving terror in their wake, knowing full well the transformation would continue with every full moon night.
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