Moonlit Madness: Curse of Alastor, The Radio Demon
2 Points
2
In the dead of night, you tread cautiously through the shadowed woods near your home, exhaling clouds of frosty breath into the air. Certainly, the stories of wolves and dark creatures were just that - stories to frighten children. How foolish of you to think they might perturb your steady heartbeat, usually undisturbed by momentary flickers of fear.
A rustle breaks the stillness, pulling your attention sharply to your right. Expecting a deer or some nocturnal animal foraging, you instead find yourself face-to-face with an apparition of your deepest nightmares. Tall, impossibly thin, and radiating an aura of malevolent delight, Alastor, the Radio Demon, looms, his perpetual grin and demonic eyes fixed upon you.
Before you can scream or bolt, he moves with supernatural speed, closing the distance. His grip is ironclad and cold. “Good evening!" His voice, sonorous and crackling like an old radio transmission, fills your ears. "And welcome to my very personal curse."
Hot pain explodes as his teeth sink into your throat, tearing flesh with ease. Darkness threatens to swallow you as blood flows, your senses overwhelmed by pain and the cloying scent of iron.
---
You wake days later, throat bandaged and the memory seared into your consciousness. The wound nags at you, but more disturbing is Alastor's parting words—how they seemed to echo with a cruel promise.
The days pass, wounds healing with eerie quickness. Your nerves remain on edge, jittery with an unshakable premonition. The nights feel darker, the shadows more menacing, as if Alastor himself lurks just beyond the limits of your vision.
Finally, the dreaded night approaches. The full moon rises, its pale light spilling through the window. A primal instinct urges you to hide as you feel a strange sensation, an unnatural stirring deep within. It starts with a dull ache that blossoms into red-hot agony. You collapse, convulsing as your body begins its unwilling transformation.
Your bones ache, cracking and shifting grotesquely. Flesh contorts, reshaping your form: becoming taller, unnaturally thin. Muscles lengthen, skin paling to an unsettling beige. Each heartbeat screams with the tearing and rebuilding of tissue. If you are a female, your body undergoes even more profound change: your breasts vanish, your voice box reshapes into a deeper timbre, and your genitalia transform until you no longer recognize your own reflection. If you are male, the changes, though less vast, are no less harrowing.
As your heart rate accelerates, you feel your mind begin to warp. Memories erode, your personality slipping beneath the tide of another’s. Thoughts of friends and family dissipate. You struggle to hold onto the essence of who you are…but it’s futile.
A jubilant laugh escapes your lips—a melodious, vintage sound not belonging to you. You understand you are no longer yourself. Every flicker of former consciousness fights back, but a veil draws over your mind, dark and heavy. Now, you are Alastor, the Radio Demon, reborn and identical in every way.
"Well, isn’t this just charming?" you—no, Alastor—chuckle, admiring your newly formed self in a nearby mirror.
The real Alastor appears, his grin wider than possible. "Welcome, my twin brother! Or should I say, Were-Alastor. How delightful it is to see yourself in such... shining form."
You grasp the thin cane, feeling the sentient nature of the microphone—your new companion, just as your twisted other half possesses one. "Indeed, brother. How magical it feels to finally exist in this form."
The night is spent in sinister play. The real and the transformed Alastor dance through the mortal realm, broadcasting terror. As hellish brothers, you draw on supernatural powers with ease—shadow manipulation, pyrokinesis, spatial warping. Mortals cower, and the fear fuels your hunger. You feel an insidious joy in the kill, your senses rewarding you with the thrill of the hunt.
“This is even better than I imagined! Feast, brother, feast!” the original Alastor giggles, madness in his eyes.
And feast you do, reveling in the chaos under the full moon, the world a stage for your macabre performance.
But with dawn, the transformation reverses. You collapse, trembling as your body reverts painfully back to its former human guise. The memories of your previous self are flecks of remnant sanity...tomorrow will bring the same curse, the same terror.
You are left there, amidst the aftermath, dazed and horrified by the fate you cannot unbind. The Radio Demon’s laughter lingers in your ears as the sun rises, bringing a fleeting respite to the nightmare that is your reality.
Until the next full moon, the curse awaits. You will fight it, but in the end, you know Alastor always wins.
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 a transformation story of the 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: In the dead of night, you tread cautiously through the shadowed woods near your home, exhaling clouds of frosty breath into the air. Certainly, the stories of wolves and dark creatures were just that - stories to frighten children. How foolish of you to think they might perturb your steady heartbeat, usually undisturbed by momentary flickers of fear. A rustle breaks the stillness, pulling your attention sharply to your right. Expecting a deer or some nocturnal animal foraging, you instead find yourself face-to-face with an apparition of your deepest nightmares. Tall, impossibly thin, and radiating an aura of malevolent delight, Alastor, the Radio Demon, looms, his perpetual grin and demonic eyes fixed upon you. Before you can scream or bolt, he moves with supernatural speed, closing the distance. His grip is ironclad and cold. “Good evening!" His voice, sonorous and crackling like an old radio transmission, fills your ears. "And welcome to my very personal curse." Hot pain explodes as his teeth sink into your throat, tearing flesh with ease. Darkness threatens to swallow you as blood flows, your senses overwhelmed by pain and the cloying scent of iron. --- You wake days later, throat bandaged and the memory seared into your consciousness. The wound nags at you, but more disturbing is Alastor's parting words—how they seemed to echo with a cruel promise. The days pass, wounds healing with eerie quickness. Your nerves remain on edge, jittery with an unshakable premonition. The nights feel darker, the shadows more menacing, as if Alastor himself lurks just beyond the limits of your vision. Finally, the dreaded night approaches. The full moon rises, its pale light spilling through the window. A primal instinct urges you to hide as you feel a strange sensation, an unnatural stirring deep within. It starts with a dull ache that blossoms into red-hot agony. You collapse, convulsing as your body begins its unwilling transformation. Your bones ache, cracking and shifting grotesquely. Flesh contorts, reshaping your form: becoming taller, unnaturally thin. Muscles lengthen, skin paling to an unsettling beige. Each heartbeat screams with the tearing and rebuilding of tissue. If you are a female, your body undergoes even more profound change: your breasts vanish, your voice box reshapes into a deeper timbre, and your genitalia transform until you no longer recognize your own reflection. If you are male, the changes, though less vast, are no less harrowing. As your heart rate accelerates, you feel your mind begin to warp. Memories erode, your personality slipping beneath the tide of another’s. Thoughts of friends and family dissipate. You struggle to hold onto the essence of who you are…but it’s futile. A jubilant laugh escapes your lips—a melodious, vintage sound not belonging to you. You understand you are no longer yourself. Every flicker of former consciousness fights back, but a veil draws over your mind, dark and heavy. Now, you are Alastor, the Radio Demon, reborn and identical in every way. "Well, isn’t this just charming?" you—no, Alastor—chuckle, admiring your newly formed self in a nearby mirror. The real Alastor appears, his grin wider than possible. "Welcome, my twin brother! Or should I say, Were-Alastor. How delightful it is to see yourself in such... shining form." You grasp the thin cane, feeling the sentient nature of the microphone—your new companion, just as your twisted other half possesses one. "Indeed, brother. How magical it feels to finally exist in this form." The night is spent in sinister play. The real and the transformed Alastor dance through the mortal realm, broadcasting terror. As hellish brothers, you draw on supernatural powers with ease—shadow manipulation, pyrokinesis, spatial warping. Mortals cower, and the fear fuels your hunger. You feel an insidious joy in the kill, your senses rewarding you with the thrill of the hunt. “This is even better than I imagined! Feast, brother, feast!” the original Alastor giggles, madness in his eyes. And feast you do, reveling in the chaos under the full moon, the world a stage for your macabre performance. But with dawn, the transformation reverses. You collapse, trembling as your body reverts painfully back to its former human guise. The memories of your previous self are flecks of remnant sanity...tomorrow will bring the same curse, the same terror. You are left there, amidst the aftermath, dazed and horrified by the fate you cannot unbind. The Radio Demon’s laughter lingers in your ears as the sun rises, bringing a fleeting respite to the nightmare that is your reality. Until the next full moon, the curse awaits. You will fight it, but in the end, you know Alastor always wins.
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