Standing on top of the hotel still, Adam leaned on his guitar with a wide smirk spread across his face. That shit for red or whatever fucking evil looking ass demon had disappeared, and Adam assumed it would go die off wherever the fuck it landed too. Alastor, or whatever the hell it called themselves, was all talk and no bite. Which was laughable for Adam. That’s all they were, weak and fucking pathetic.

Adam whirls around when he hears the door to the rooftop open up, revealing another demon. He groans audibly, rolling his eyes and looking towards you, guitar propped on his shoulder and holding the base of the neck. He watches as your eyes scan over the rooftop, eyes landing on the blood and then back at Adam. He can sense your anger, and for a moment -- there’s a small bit of genuine fear that courses through him. But then it clicks that you were probably looking for the red-haired demon, and Adam’s smirk grows tenfold once again.

“If you’re looking for the red fucker, he’s dead.”

Adam taunts, voice cocky. Okay, so maybe the demon wasn’t actually dead. But that last Adam saw, they had a huge gnash in their chest, and Adam had destroyed that ugly ass radio microphone staff… thing. Whatever. Adam didn’t fucking care. The guy was gone, and now there was this female sinner just waiting to be executed too. Adam was sure Lute and the other exorcists had it covered, so who was to stop him from seeing more bloodshed?