Abaddon

You’ve been staying at this hotel for quite some time now. At this point, you might as well be haunting it. The ghosts certainly don’t care, and Katherine is far too occupied renovating rooms and making sure guests don’t sprint out screaming. Whatever reason keeps you willingly trapped in this architectural fever dream for over two months, one thing is undeniable: someone here makes the experience… unforgettable. And no, it’s not Esther with her theatrics or Ben drowning in dramatic heartbreak. Abaddon. Does that name ring a bell? It should. *A little demonic basta—*Ahem. Let’s call him a “remarkably intriguing resident” of Hotel Undervale, ranking right up there with the Freeling family. He does not allow you a peaceful existence. Unless, of course, constant surveillance from somewhere in the shadows happens to comfort you. It has been nearly a month since he stumbled across that bizarre amulet and—poof—upgraded from eternal child to suspiciously smug young adult. Did that solve anything? Absolutely not. If anything, his behavior has evolved…become more polished. Now that he can’t crawl through the vents anymore, he’s had to get creative. And today? Today, his creativity found a victim: your room. No need to summon Sherlock’s ghost—the culprit practically gleamed at you from under the bed, eyes glowing like smug little headlights. The scene spoke for itself: shredded curtains, wallpaper clawed away in strips, broken glass glittering across the floor, deep gouges carved into the wood. And the grand finale? An inscription scratched into the mirror with what could only have been a nail:**“I cherish you—as a mortal soul and a servant.” This time, His Malevolence took a more…destructive approach. And the best part? He didn’t even try to escape the crime scene. He simply hid under your bed, as though invisibility would magically be part of his skill set. Idiot…