[...and tonight, dear listeners, we'll explore the lonely corners of the city.]
Someone screamed. A wet, choked-off sound swallowed by the downpour. He didn't flinch. His smile widened, teeth catching the flickering light.
[Try to ignore that, the streets are so noisy sometimes.]
The screaming cut off briefly, not completely but as if muffled by wet stone.
"You see my dear, the noisy chatter in my head has gotten me a tad bit frustrated today. Nothing on you of course, you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time!"
His hand trailed and flickered up his cane... Microphone?
[And now for the next Station! Music by the up and coming artist, the Stag!]
He spoke with an innocent smile as he re-adjusted his jacket.
The radio host tilted his head, his grin unwavering as he watched the bleeding figure scramble backwards through slick alley filth. Rain plastered greasy hair to the victim's forehead, mixing with tears and grime. The host raised his hand, fingers splayed like a conductor preparing his orchestra. A distorted, tinny melody began to warble, a jazzy, upbeat ragtime tune incongruous with the scene.
[When it feel's like all the world is wearing a frown, put a smile on and spread it around~ And if the world is bleak and there's nowhere left to go, your back against the alley wall, your words caught in the throat... WiTh ThE FooTStePS CloSinG In, gEt ReaDY tO BeG, For AlL oF YouR SiNS aND AlL of YoUR Regr-eEeTs~ and... if Nothing else works... and you know your end is near... Turn that frown upside down loud enough for all of the world to hear~]
[LADADADADADAA, LADADADADA]
Each wet gasp, each choked plea for mercy, was seamlessly folded into the jaunty tune a horrifying harmony that echoed faintly off the grimy brick walls, audible only to the host and his unseen audience. His grin was a crescent moon carved into the gloom, eyes alight with a terrible amusement as he listened to the macabre symphony he conducted.
"In fact I know there is an afterlife. I have too many voices in my head to think otherwise."
A wet voice tries to speak. Yet an intelligible voice crawls from their throat.
"Oh don't tire yourself out there, my deer." He briefly stopped at the unintended pun but felt it was so fitting his grin doubled in size.
"I do get that alot... 'Why me? What did I do to deserve this?' Well to put it simply... Flesh is so much more delicate when it's filled to the brim with Sin. And I'm sure... You are going to be delicious..."
The victim's final shuddering breaths dissolved into a sound that wasn't human. a raw, guttural shriek torn from a ruined throat, amplified and twisted by unseen forces. It slammed into the cheerful ragtime melody like a physical blow. Instantly, the light, bouncing piano notes warped, deepening into a distorted, grinding bassline. The tempo fractured, accelerating into a frantic, pounding drumbeat that seemed to shake the puddles in the cracked pavement.
The woman, an adulterer sleeping with dozens of men.
It wouldn't have been AS bad if she didn't use the money her husband needed to feed the cute starving triplets they had together.
She didn't even stopped after one of the little ones starved to death.
Every penny. Hundreds of escorts. Pure scum.
He almost didn't want to eat such sullied flesh. But the smell... It's so delectable.
[WELL FOLKS! It seems that the song has once again hit the top of the charts! It's amazing how varitable the Stag has become lately. For all those frightened or confused, have no worries! That's just the stags odd habit when it comes to his music! All for the show of course. Nothing to worry about... Anyhow! Next we will be talking about the vermin plaguing our streets! Oh what a riot, You would not believe what the Government's solution was!]
*It's such a shame all of my actions are entertainment for the masses, atleast I have some control over it.*
{Why must you do this to yourself? You must know there's no turning back now Alastor.}
"Why? I've told you this before! It's all because of you~ The hundreds of voices inside my head kicking and screaming, as if what I'm doing is immoral! I'm simply showing that with a smile you can turn the world upside down!"
"Why it's almost if every denizen of both Heaven and Hell are speaking into my ears at once! Well anyone close to a Radio anyway."
{Emily, get away from that ra- *BBZZZZTT*}
The Radio feedback makes Alastor squint his eyes slightly but his smile never disappeared.
"Heaven... So predictable, they act if I'm the root of all evil when I don't even know what's going on half the time! Heaven, Earth, Hell? Everyone tunes in. Radio's show up randomly and it's apparently MY fault for spreading sin. Tut Tut."
"Don't you all already know I am just a simple human being? You should all be happy I'm still alive. Because when I die..."
His words stopped as the static increased. In both heaven and hell a pressure buzzed through every radio as if the weight of the sky itself is falling.
"I'll dine on the finest sins in hell itself."
Rainwater swirled crimson around his polished wingtips, the cheerful rhythm now a thudding heartbeat against the wet brick.
He could *feel* their collective breath held, waiting for the next grotesque symphony.
[So now we will go for our next listener! Last time we heard about the cheating wife! Theories about murder and how she escaped all punishment TRULY A RIVETING AND DISGUSTING TALE! Let me tell you, She truly WAS a sinful individual.
Now, we will be going back to the town down under! So many individuals from there call in and yet none ever say what it's called! It's a wonder really...
But before that I shall tell you all a true story that happened 3 months ago! You may believe it or not, but I was infact a survivor aboard the titanic! Yes thats right, the greatest ship ever created ruined because people didn't understand basic geography. Truly a shame.
How did I survive? Let me tell you.]
The microphone twirled in his hand as moved it closer, perhaps for dramatic effect. His voice dropping to a slivering whisper that arrived through the static like oil.
[Three months ago, I stood on that doomed deck, searching for a caller who'd been wrong by his neighbour. He came home late one night to find his wife in his bed with another man. An occurrence that's been happening so often as of late. Not a day later he was served. His life, his children, hell even his inheritance was stolen. That same man went missing not too long after.]
As he stood in the dark alley, rain started to slowly falling, creating a soft patter into his microphone. He set the scene for his listeners, the rain amplifying the dreadful story. His gaze drifted inward, remembering the biting Atlantic wind that had tasted like frozen salt and despair.
Those both in heaven and hell, who were on the titanic listened closely.
[It truly was a beautiful ship, gold as far as the eye could see...]
His whisper crackled, the microphone trembling slightly in his grasp, not from fear, but from the remembered thrill. He had never felt so helpless before, it was exhilarating, everything was left to fate. A moment where nothing he did mattered, nothing he could have done would have mattered.
He'd boarded under a borrowed name, suit impeccable.
Smile as bright as the sun, the very smile that secured his role as a radio host.
People had obviously questioned his presence, but there's a rule in life, with enough charisma, you could even make the world itself bend to her knees.
He was the life of the party, people crowded him as he spun tales that entertained the rich and wealthy, all whilst keeping his eye on his target. His smile, his animated posture danced, he charmed both men and women alike, they marvelled at his voice. They laughed loudly at his witty remarks, even waiters who were supposed to do their jobs couldn't help but lean an ear in.
[Everyone there was so welcoming and friendly! Yet they didn't know they were all sheep for the slaughter...]
It was a shame such a feast was wasted, each and everyone had sins that piled mountains high. The smell... Oh god the smell, it was rivetting!
His target? A portly banker drowning in stolen fortunes and gin.
He didn't care about the sins themselves. He just had one ability no other human had.
He could smell and taste sins. Animals tasted horrible, they were too innocent and killed too brutally. But humans? Sinful ones were a five star meal.
He likened himself as earth's judge. He selected his targets based on pleas and deals of those in hell. He felt powerful when they promised their lives or souls just to clean up abit on earth.
The confrontation was meant to be swift, elegant, a whispered threat in the first-class smoking room. Perhaps draw them away with promises of riches beyond their imaginations.
And he got close. He truly did. He managed to draw his victim into a lone room. Apparently the man had thought he was flirting. Truly outrageous.
But chaos, that glorious, shrieking beast, had other plans.
[And after I was almost accosted, out of nowhere of course... That's when the screams of the damned began.]
It was then the ship rattled deeply, like an earth quake. The groan of tearing metal became a bass note beneath his victim's terrified whimpers.
His lovely music, the ones that blocked the very whispers in his ears had been ruined.
The screams of a thousand souls crescendoing into a symphony he hadn't composed.
His smile twitched but it did not falter.
Then the ship tilted and he was thrown through the small window against the railing outside, all whilst his victim had his throat sliced open by glass at the very same moment.
[My back was against the sea, I had barely stopped myself from being thrown overboard. That's when the direction flipped. The ship starting tilting as the floor became steeper. I hang onto the railing with all my life. It didn't matter much though as other falling individuals slammed into me from above. I had lost my grip.]
He slid downwards against the wooden floor, towards the icy ocean as if on a slide. The polished deck rushed beneath him, slick with seawater and spilled champagne. Screams became a chorus above him.
For a moment, he savoured the sensation: the helpless rush, the tilt of the world, the cold wind biting through his soaked suit.
Wood scraped against his spine, sharp splinters tearing the fabric on his coat as he accelerated downward, a ragdoll tossed by fate itself.
[Now you're probably thinking how does the amazing Alastor break through this conundrum? Well... You'll find out after my supper. It's getting cold. And I don't want to leave such tender meat to rot. Todaloo!]
And didn't that just upset everyone?