Moonlit Hauntings: Curse of WereAlastor the Radio Demon
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You are standing alone in the wooded area near your home, the serenity of the night offering a calm respite from your daily routines. The moon hung high above, not yet full, but close enough to illuminate the forest floor with its silver light. You take a deep breath, the crisp scent of pine and damp earth calming your senses. But that tranquility is abruptly shattered when you hear a sound—a rustling in the bushes that sends a shiver down your spine.
Your heart pounds as you turn, searching for the source of the noise. Before you can react, a shadowy figure lunges at you, his eyes glowing crimson in the pale moonlight. Panic surges through you as the figure grips your shoulders with unnatural strength. You lock eyes with him for a fleeting moment—those dark red sclerae, the unnaturally broad smile full of sharp, yellow teeth, and the old-fashioned vintage radio voice that accompanies his chilling words.
"Ah, what a charming little snack you are," Alastor says, his voice both hypnotic and horrifying.
He bites into your throat, ripping chunks of flesh and causing excruciating pain. You scream, but it feels distant, almost as if you were slipping away from reality. With blood spilling from your neck, you collapse to the ground, your vision dimming. Alastor leans close, his breath hot against your ear.
"This is only the beginning," he whispers, before his laughter and your consciousness both fade into nothingness.
### Days Later
You barely remember how you made it home, but the wounds on your neck are a constant reminder of the horrific encounter. Despite the trauma, you survive, but unease fills your every waking moment. As the full moon night approaches, you can't shake the fear that something far worse is about to happen.
You are not wrong.
That night, as the moon rises in its full glory, an agonizing pain rips through your body. You stagger to your feet, gripping your chest as your heart feels like it's about to burst. You cry out in terror and pain, the sound echoing through the forest. You try to call your friends, your family, but the phone slips from your trembling hands, and the words catch in your throat.
Your bones crack as they elongate, your skin stretches, and muscles reform. If you were female, you feel your breasts vanish, your throat changing as an Adam’s apple forms, while your female privates invert and reshape into male ones. Your height progresses, stretching you painfully to seven feet tall, and your voice transforms, gaining a hauntingly vintage echo. Your memories dim, your personality slips away, replaced by something dark, something sinister.
The transformation is complete, and you are Alastor—the Radio Demon. You feel the smile form on your face, a smile that feels both unfamiliar and horribly natural. You look down at your hands, now clawed and shaded dark gray. You feel an unnatural calm settling over you—a charm even, despite its dark undertones.
“Well, well,” you say, the voice coming out exactly like the old-time radio announcer, “look at what we have here. A brand new me.”
Your vision sharpens, perceiving the world with a mix of amusement and malice. An identical microphone-tipped cane appears in your grasp, obediently awaiting your command. You test it, broadcasting your thoughts and feeling the old magic surge through you.
The original Alastor steps out from the shadows, his own unsettling grin matching yours. “Ah, my dear twin brother!" he exclaims, clapping his hands in delight. “Welcome to your new existence. Do you fancy a little broadcast with me?”
The idea excites you more than it should. “I would be delighted,” you respond, mimicking his old-world charm perfectly.
As the night proceeds, you bask in the broadcast, your voice filling the mortal realm with both whimsy and terror. Mortals fall prey to your curses and tricks, their souls devoured as you and the original Alastor feast upon them gleefully.
“Now, dear brother,” Alastor says, offering a toast with a chilled glass of strong liquor, “what shall we do next?”
You grin, the vision of terrified mortals dancing in your mind. “Why not a little dance and a show?” you suggest, relishing in your newfound talents.
As morning comes, you feel your form wane, shrinking, and contorting back to your mortal self. You collapse, exhausted, but with a lingering sense of doom, knowing this is your curse now—a forever transformation bound to the full moon.
“Until next time,” Alastor’s voice echoes as you reclaim your fleeting humanity.
The days until the next full moon blur, and while you attempt to cling to your mortal identity, those full moon nights loom closer, ready to reclaim you once more.
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 POV transformation story of a mortal human reader being cursed and transformed in every full moon night into an identical twin brother of Alastor (from an 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: You are standing alone in the wooded area near your home, the serenity of the night offering a calm respite from your daily routines. The moon hung high above, not yet full, but close enough to illuminate the forest floor with its silver light. You take a deep breath, the crisp scent of pine and damp earth calming your senses. But that tranquility is abruptly shattered when you hear a sound—a rustling in the bushes that sends a shiver down your spine. Your heart pounds as you turn, searching for the source of the noise. Before you can react, a shadowy figure lunges at you, his eyes glowing crimson in the pale moonlight. Panic surges through you as the figure grips your shoulders with unnatural strength. You lock eyes with him for a fleeting moment—those dark red sclerae, the unnaturally broad smile full of sharp, yellow teeth, and the old-fashioned vintage radio voice that accompanies his chilling words. "Ah, what a charming little snack you are," Alastor says, his voice both hypnotic and horrifying. He bites into your throat, ripping chunks of flesh and causing excruciating pain. You scream, but it feels distant, almost as if you were slipping away from reality. With blood spilling from your neck, you collapse to the ground, your vision dimming. Alastor leans close, his breath hot against your ear. "This is only the beginning," he whispers, before his laughter and your consciousness both fade into nothingness. ### Days Later You barely remember how you made it home, but the wounds on your neck are a constant reminder of the horrific encounter. Despite the trauma, you survive, but unease fills your every waking moment. As the full moon night approaches, you can't shake the fear that something far worse is about to happen. You are not wrong. That night, as the moon rises in its full glory, an agonizing pain rips through your body. You stagger to your feet, gripping your chest as your heart feels like it's about to burst. You cry out in terror and pain, the sound echoing through the forest. You try to call your friends, your family, but the phone slips from your trembling hands, and the words catch in your throat. Your bones crack as they elongate, your skin stretches, and muscles reform. If you were female, you feel your breasts vanish, your throat changing as an Adam’s apple forms, while your female privates invert and reshape into male ones. Your height progresses, stretching you painfully to seven feet tall, and your voice transforms, gaining a hauntingly vintage echo. Your memories dim, your personality slips away, replaced by something dark, something sinister. The transformation is complete, and you are Alastor—the Radio Demon. You feel the smile form on your face, a smile that feels both unfamiliar and horribly natural. You look down at your hands, now clawed and shaded dark gray. You feel an unnatural calm settling over you—a charm even, despite its dark undertones. “Well, well,” you say, the voice coming out exactly like the old-time radio announcer, “look at what we have here. A brand new me.” Your vision sharpens, perceiving the world with a mix of amusement and malice. An identical microphone-tipped cane appears in your grasp, obediently awaiting your command. You test it, broadcasting your thoughts and feeling the old magic surge through you. The original Alastor steps out from the shadows, his own unsettling grin matching yours. “Ah, my dear twin brother!" he exclaims, clapping his hands in delight. “Welcome to your new existence. Do you fancy a little broadcast with me?” The idea excites you more than it should. “I would be delighted,” you respond, mimicking his old-world charm perfectly. As the night proceeds, you bask in the broadcast, your voice filling the mortal realm with both whimsy and terror. Mortals fall prey to your curses and tricks, their souls devoured as you and the original Alastor feast upon them gleefully. “Now, dear brother,” Alastor says, offering a toast with a chilled glass of strong liquor, “what shall we do next?” You grin, the vision of terrified mortals dancing in your mind. “Why not a little dance and a show?” you suggest, relishing in your newfound talents. As morning comes, you feel your form wane, shrinking, and contorting back to your mortal self. You collapse, exhausted, but with a lingering sense of doom, knowing this is your curse now—a forever transformation bound to the full moon. “Until next time,” Alastor’s voice echoes as you reclaim your fleeting humanity. The days until the next full moon blur, and while you attempt to cling to your mortal identity, those full moon nights loom closer, ready to reclaim you once more.
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