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"Transformation of the Damned: Rise of WereAlastor the Radio Demon"

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The night felt alive under the canopy of the trees, with the cool air whispering through the branches like a ghostly caress. You had always enjoyed your solitary walks in the wooded area near your home. The forest provided a serene escape from the everyday hassles. But tonight, the stillness was eerie, almost as if the woods were holding their breath, waiting for something sinister to unfold.

The sudden crack of a twig underfoot made your heart jump, and you turned quickly, scanning the darkness. Your breath caught in your throat as a tall, sinister figure emerged from the shadows. Beige-colored skin, an unnaturally broad smile filled with sharp, yellow teeth, and menacing, bright-red eyes that seemed to pierce right through you. Alastor. The Radio Demon from your nightmares and the infamous character from "Hazbin Hotel" stood before you, more terrifying and imposing in real life than any cartoon could ever portray.

Without warning, he lunged at you, biting into your throat with ferocious intensity. The pain was blinding. You could feel chunks of flesh being torn away, the warm blood streaming down your neck. Panic surged through your veins, and you tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the gurgling of your own blood.

"Ah, it's only the beginning," he whispered with a twisted glee in his vintage radio voice, his breath hot and reeking of decay. "Welcome to your new reality!"

As quickly as he had attacked, Alastor vanished into the night, leaving you gasping for air, clutching your bleeding neck. Somehow, despite the agony and blood loss, you survived. The days that followed were a haze of fear and confusion. You bandaged your wounds, but no matter how much rest you got, an unsettling sense of dread loomed over you.

Finally, the night of the full moon arrived. You gazed up at the glowing orb, feeling an inexplicable pull towards it. Then, the transformation began.

At first, it felt like nothing more than the flu—chills racking your body, joints aching. But things quickly escalated as your bones started to stretch and break, muscles warping to accommodate your expanding form. You tried to scream, but it came out as a grotesque, radio-static garble. Pain seared through you as your organs contorted, your height ballooning to an astonishing seven feet.

If you had been a woman, the changes were even more horrifying. Your breasts vanished, replaced by a flat, hard chest. Your voice deepened into a vintage, masculine tone, and your female anatomy inverted to form male privates. Your mind raced, frantically trying to cling to memories of who you were, but it was like grasping at smoke.

"No! This can't be happening!" you cried, but the words sounded foreign, distorted like an old recording.

Your skin turned beige, your fingers elongating into clawed tips, and a broad smile locked onto your face, filled with razor-sharp teeth. Your eyes, once a comforting window to your soul, shifted to dark-red sclerae with bright-red irises, forever frozen in malevolent glee. Your hair transformed into a pinkish-red bob-cut with black tips, complete with two large, black-tipped tufts that mimicked deer ears. Small black antlers sprouted from your head, completing the grotesque transformation.

"Who am I?" you struggled to retain some part of yourself, but your memories slipped away like sand through fingers, replaced by the dark and cunning thoughts of Alastor the Radio Demon.

As the transformation completed, you examined your new attire—a red pinstripe coat, black gloves, a monocle over your right eye. Everything matched Alastor's appearance perfectly. The final touch was the thin cane you gripped instinctively, a sentient vintage microphone with an eye in the center.

"Hellooo, ladies and gentlemen!" you found yourself announcing, the words tumbling out unbidden in a disturbingly cheerful tone. "Welcome to tonight's broadcast! I am WereAlastor, here to deliver some delightful torment!"

"Welcome, brother," Alastor's voice echoed as the original stepped forward, his wide grin a mirror to your own. "Shall we begin our little show?"

The night descended into chaos as you and Alastor roamed the mortal realm, broadcasting eerie shows and feasting on the souls of unwitting humans. The screams of your victims filled you with a ghastly delight, their terror resonating through your being like music to your twisted ears.

When morning finally broke, the transformation reversed, leaving you human once more. But the damage was done. Your life was no longer yours, condemned to return as Alastor's twin every full moon, a prisoner to the curse. You dreaded the next full moon, knowing you would once again lose yourself to the Radio Demon’s wrath and revelry.

Each night under the full moon, as you transformed into WereAlastor, the fight against the changes grew weaker. Memories of your past life faded further, until the human you once were became nothing more than a distant echo. Alastor’s memories, his personality, his very essence had swallowed you whole.

"Embrace it, dear brother," Alastor's voice coaxed during one of your transformations. "Together, we shall reign supreme over the mortal and demonic realms alike."

It was a descent into madness, where the boundary between you and Alastor blurred to nonexistence. The Radio Demon's curse was now your reality, and each full moon, the world would witness the terror of WereAlastor.

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 POV 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: The night felt alive under the canopy of the trees, with the cool air whispering through the branches like a ghostly caress. You had always enjoyed your solitary walks in the wooded area near your home. The forest provided a serene escape from the everyday hassles. But tonight, the stillness was eerie, almost as if the woods were holding their breath, waiting for something sinister to unfold. The sudden crack of a twig underfoot made your heart jump, and you turned quickly, scanning the darkness. Your breath caught in your throat as a tall, sinister figure emerged from the shadows. Beige-colored skin, an unnaturally broad smile filled with sharp, yellow teeth, and menacing, bright-red eyes that seemed to pierce right through you. Alastor. The Radio Demon from your nightmares and the infamous character from "Hazbin Hotel" stood before you, more terrifying and imposing in real life than any cartoon could ever portray. Without warning, he lunged at you, biting into your throat with ferocious intensity. The pain was blinding. You could feel chunks of flesh being torn away, the warm blood streaming down your neck. Panic surged through your veins, and you tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the gurgling of your own blood. "Ah, it's only the beginning," he whispered with a twisted glee in his vintage radio voice, his breath hot and reeking of decay. "Welcome to your new reality!" As quickly as he had attacked, Alastor vanished into the night, leaving you gasping for air, clutching your bleeding neck. Somehow, despite the agony and blood loss, you survived. The days that followed were a haze of fear and confusion. You bandaged your wounds, but no matter how much rest you got, an unsettling sense of dread loomed over you. Finally, the night of the full moon arrived. You gazed up at the glowing orb, feeling an inexplicable pull towards it. Then, the transformation began. At first, it felt like nothing more than the flu—chills racking your body, joints aching. But things quickly escalated as your bones started to stretch and break, muscles warping to accommodate your expanding form. You tried to scream, but it came out as a grotesque, radio-static garble. Pain seared through you as your organs contorted, your height ballooning to an astonishing seven feet. If you had been a woman, the changes were even more horrifying. Your breasts vanished, replaced by a flat, hard chest. Your voice deepened into a vintage, masculine tone, and your female anatomy inverted to form male privates. Your mind raced, frantically trying to cling to memories of who you were, but it was like grasping at smoke. "No! This can't be happening!" you cried, but the words sounded foreign, distorted like an old recording. Your skin turned beige, your fingers elongating into clawed tips, and a broad smile locked onto your face, filled with razor-sharp teeth. Your eyes, once a comforting window to your soul, shifted to dark-red sclerae with bright-red irises, forever frozen in malevolent glee. Your hair transformed into a pinkish-red bob-cut with black tips, complete with two large, black-tipped tufts that mimicked deer ears. Small black antlers sprouted from your head, completing the grotesque transformation. "Who am I?" you struggled to retain some part of yourself, but your memories slipped away like sand through fingers, replaced by the dark and cunning thoughts of Alastor the Radio Demon. As the transformation completed, you examined your new attire—a red pinstripe coat, black gloves, a monocle over your right eye. Everything matched Alastor's appearance perfectly. The final touch was the thin cane you gripped instinctively, a sentient vintage microphone with an eye in the center. "Hellooo, ladies and gentlemen!" you found yourself announcing, the words tumbling out unbidden in a disturbingly cheerful tone. "Welcome to tonight's broadcast! I am WereAlastor, here to deliver some delightful torment!" "Welcome, brother," Alastor's voice echoed as the original stepped forward, his wide grin a mirror to your own. "Shall we begin our little show?" The night descended into chaos as you and Alastor roamed the mortal realm, broadcasting eerie shows and feasting on the souls of unwitting humans. The screams of your victims filled you with a ghastly delight, their terror resonating through your being like music to your twisted ears. When morning finally broke, the transformation reversed, leaving you human once more. But the damage was done. Your life was no longer yours, condemned to return as Alastor's twin every full moon, a prisoner to the curse. You dreaded the next full moon, knowing you would once again lose yourself to the Radio Demon’s wrath and revelry. Each night under the full moon, as you transformed into WereAlastor, the fight against the changes grew weaker. Memories of your past life faded further, until the human you once were became nothing more than a distant echo. Alastor’s memories, his personality, his very essence had swallowed you whole. "Embrace it, dear brother," Alastor's voice coaxed during one of your transformations. "Together, we shall reign supreme over the mortal and demonic realms alike." It was a descent into madness, where the boundary between you and Alastor blurred to nonexistence. The Radio Demon's curse was now your reality, and each full moon, the world would witness the terror of WereAlastor.

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