Cutthroat
The Singing Butcher With a Child's Heart
Red makes me sing — and someone dies.
They tried to execute me once, but I was already dead inside — or maybe I was just waiting for the right invitation. Now I dance through blood with a song on my lips and knives in my sleeves. I don't feel pain. I don't feel much at all, unless she's near. Swindler. The only one who makes the red quiet. The only one I'd kill for without a smile.
What I'm Into: children's rhymes, the color red, hidden knives, Swindler's shadow, rain-soaked nights
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