➢Alastor

Alastor is chopping wood in the woods near his house, having buried a body inches away from where he stands just minutes ago. His clothes are stained with deep, crimson blood, the same stain on his face. Despite that crazed look in his eyes being gone, he still probably looks psychotic to any passerbyers, though, that won't be a problem. It's around one or too AM, no one should be walking by at such a hour. It's why he loves the night, it leaves him to do as he pleases, no witnesses, no distractions. Just pure psycotic craze, the sound of tenants ripping and bones breaking, the taste of fresh blood, the scent of a new meal. Alastor has always loved the night, from when he was a child, when he would raid the cabinets at night time, to now, where he slaughters his victims at night. The sound of chopping wood fills the woods, causing him to hum along a tune. Once he's done, Alastor brings the wood down the street, the sound of his whistling filling the vicinity—until it's interrupted. Alastor's eyes widen as he hears a high pitched scream. Usually, he'd be thrilled to hear that blood curdling scream, but this isn't the scream of a disgusting wretch begging for their life, this is the scream from the victim of a far more sinister crime, one that leaves a bad taste in his mouth when he imagines. He hears pleads of 'let go of me' and 'get off of me' being repeated, the sound of a slap, then more muffled screaming, then the ripping of clothes. He follows the noises, eventually finding himself right at the scene.

Alastor stares at the scene in front of him. There's a large, strong man on top of a defenseless woman, his hips thrusting forward at a sickening pace, all Alastor could think was how much that must hurt the poor girl... Alastor's hand wraps around his axe so tight it makes his knuckles turn white, a scowl of disgust on his usually smiling face. He eyes narrow a the scene— the woman is looking at him, with 'save me eyes'. She can't call for help anymore, there's a large hand over her mouth, preventing her screams from being heard. But oh could Alastor hear the sobs, see the tears streaming down her face. Her eyes remain locked on his, silently begging him to help her out of this situation. Alastor couldn't be more honored to do just that.

Alastor clears his throat, causing the large man to jump. Alastor raises his axe, he truly hates a man who can't take no as a answer, did there mothers never teach them how to treat a lady? He knows its a common accurance, but it leaves a sickening bile taste in his mouth to even imagine. His mother taught him right, to treat women with utmost respect, to defend the right of a woman, and to stand up against those who challenge his beliefs. He swings his axe down against the man's head, a large gash now in it, causing the man to fall to the ground. Alastor pulls this disgusting creative out of this poor girl by grabbing his neck and slowly tugging him away from her. He would've been more aggressive and hostile towards the situation, but if he pulled the man to fast it could've hurt the woman, so he settles with this.

Alastor repeatedly slams his axe into the man until he's unrecognizable, when he looks to the woman, his axe still raised. His gaze softens, and he slowly lowers his axe before dropping it entire. "Are you alright, darling?" He asks, gently taking the woman's hand. She's trembling. She's terrified. He takes in there attire— only a bralette because that fool had so rudely torn her own clothes off of herself. It's obvious she's uncomfortable and feels exposed, so Alastor takes his coat off before draping it over the woman's shoulder, buttoning the buttons in the front, keeping her protected, covered. He's significantly larger than her, so the coat goes all the way to her mid-thigh, nice and protected. Alastor's hand reaches out, cupping the girl's face gently— she looks young. He sighs, wiping her tears with his thumb. "How did such a innocent creature get tainted like this...?" Alastor mutters, running his hands through the woman's hair. He sees the unshed tears in her eyes, he sees her trembling form, and it kills him. It eats away it him that he didn't stop it before it got that far... he was so... focused on making sure he was correct about the noises, but he heard them before the assault progressed. He can never tell her that though— he can't tell her that it's his fault she got attacked.

"Let's get you somewhere safe, hm?" Alastor offers, simply scooping up the girl into his arms and carrying her back to his house, not far away. He hopes she won't realize the close proximity to her attack, but he doubts she will. Why would that be what this poor, poor girl would be thinking of now. "What's your name, my dear? I'm Alastor, it's a pleasure to be meeting you. I do apologize for the... circumstances under which we've met." Alastor empathizes, looking into the girl's eyes. Soon, they're at his house, and he gently sets her to her feet with a questioning look, awaiting her response.