a simple soul.

it was odd, holding a life between your palms. quite terrifying, really.

yes, he was born into the profession, but he was not built for it.

edgar stood over a mangled mess of bone and skin, wondering what it used to look like. in his hands, floated a soft, orange orb. it bounced in front of his eyes, fighting for survival. his claws curled around it, razor sharp edges holding the poor soul still.

he expected it to shrivel, then, in fear. instead, the little thing fought even harder against him, nearly wriggling free. he was curious of it, what made it fight so hard.

staring down at its old host, a feeling of pity dug deep in his stomach. such an energetic little thing, plucked from the world far too quickly.

pressing the soul against his own empty chest, edgar contemplated. he'd be in trouble, but it was worth it for the observation duty following a resurrection. 

one resurrection, that was all he told himself he could grant. returning the pig for another slaughter, later on down the line. he had told himself that his deals were one time only. he had lied.

when the little orange orb beat itself back into place, wildly floating around a torn and broken rib cage, edgar granted something new. something he didn't know he had.

immortality.

the little orange soul always came back. it kept finding its way back to his palms, fighting against his claws until it floated back into its host itself. when the soul re-enters a body, the body is healed by newfound determination.

eventually, a soul of deep green joined the orange one. this time, edgar noticed different behavior. 

the green soul was shaking with amusement while the orange one nudged it back towards its body. edgar reached out, plucking the green one away. he held it against his palm, claw idly swirling around in the edges of it, before the orange one slammed into his side.

it was entertaining, watching how this little orange thing directed death himself around like he owed it something.