Dewdrop hadn’t been backstage long, he was getting a drink with plans to grab a few more guitar picks to toss to the crowd for curtain call, when his golden eyes saw something out of the ordinary.
A flash of red where there should not have been anything.
He followed instead of returning to the stage, disappointing some of the fans in favor of pursuing Papa’s safety.
He was prioritized over everything, because if he was harmed it meant bad news for the church.
He slung his guitar onto his back, no time to rack it safely as he gave chase, the fleeting crimson evading him by inches.
He slid to a halt just before reaching the green room, eyes alighting on a tall, red-clad stag demon, leaning towards one of the newer stage hands.
“Wh….what?” He stammered, trying to understand what was happening.
Now, Alastor was a picky man, when it came to what deals he accepted, and what souls he craved. He, unlike some dealmakers, he had the luxury of choosing. He wouldn't take meaningless deals. Uncomplete souls. But sometimes, one might be surprised by what deals he accepted.
This one was different than most. This, young woman had called for assistance in regards to her estranged sibling. She didn't ask for power, or success. No. She asked for survival. That was all she desired. Her sibling was ill, from what he could understand. Fatally ill. All she desired was for her sibling to survive, even if they were not on speaking terms.
Now, this was interesting to the stag. This soul was pure. The deal made with only good intentions. A soul such as that was rare. A powerful, profound thing.
Closing a deal was nothing spectacular. To him, at least. But to an onlooker, it might be a different story entirely. And he hadn't expected being caught in the act.
A concert wasn't where he had counted on closing the deal. But here he was, leaned down towards the woman. Her eyes were wide, fear evident in her features. Would it hurt? She asked. No. It wouldn't hurt. Much. The separation of the body and soul could be rather uncomfortable, but he would be gentle. He was brought up to be kind to women. He wouldn't harm her.
One, clawed hand was placed against her back, preventing her from backing away. The other was gripping her chin, keeping her head steady, forcing her mouth open. His uncanny, wide smile was all teeth and terror as he parted his lips, leaning in as if to initiate a kiss. But no. In stead, he paused an inch from her face, crimson orbs glowing in the dark.
It only took a couple of minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The light that started to emit from her parted lips. Bright blue, almost white. Pure energy. Her life being pulled from her very lips, her breath stolen by the Overlord in red, as the light transferred from her to him. Her breath came to a halt. Her heart slowed down. The light in her widened eyes going out. Her body going limp, head slumping backwards.
Alastor slowly moved her down onto the ground, her back leaned against a couple of spare speakers. She would, without a doubt, be found later. Slowly, he straightened back up, rolling his shoulders some as his tongue traced over his lips, as if he could still taste her energy. Only then, did he turn those crimson orbs towards the unintentional onlooker, one, clawed finger pressing against his lips.
"How awfully rude of you to spy as such, little critter~"