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Summary
“Well, well! Fancy meeting you again, my dear little listener,” Alastor’s voice crooned, silky and honeyed, yet with that ever-present undertone of menace. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your late-night rendezvous?”
Althea hesitated, her mouth dry as she stared at the radio. For a moment, her resolve wavered. But then she thought of Charlie Morningstar, the Hazbin Hotel, and the fire reignited in her chest.
“I… I need your help,” she said, her voice trembling but firm.
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Being thrown into Hell by someone she had deeply trusted was definitely not part of Althea's plan. Catching the eye of the notorious Radio Demon and becoming entangled in his schemes wasn’t supposed to be part of her new life either, yet here she was.