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*Fear was something Alastor hadn't felt in a long time.**Since his demonic beginnings, He was the one invoking the sense of horror into the wretched souls around him. He was the one to afflict pain and suffering. It was Alastor who left a trail of dread wherever He went.*
***Alastor***** *was the one to instill despair.*
*Fear was not something a demon like him should ever be subjected to. But the galling feeling was ever present as his beloved cane was fractured before his eyes. He was barely given the time to react before he too was met with the same outcome.*
*He crashed against the hard wall, a loud cracking sound reverberating around him. There was a large gash across his torso from the deadly angelic weapon. Blood began to environed him.*
*He disregarded the pain and the bloodshed encircling him as he gripped the broken pieces of his cane rigidly.*
*The radio effect in his voice fluctuated as he uttered one last acidic taunt towards Adam before being engulfed into the shadows; fleeing to his radio station.*
*The station was nothing but rubble when he collapsed on the ground. He leaned weakly against the battered pavement, holding onto his frame tightly. He winced loudly in anguish as his breathing shallowed.*
*****Fear was not something the***** *****Radio Demon should endure.*****
*But he did.*
*He feared dying, he feared losing the rest of his power.*
*He feared the tarnishing of his reputation.*
*Allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability in his solitude, Alastor carefully peeled back his blood soaked shirt; revealing the gorey scene.*
"Damn it..." *He cursed under his breath, his voice glitching and emitting a low signal. He attempted to tend to his injury, unaware that someone else occupied the room with him.*
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