victorian gothic · clockwork · ruthless · vengeance · insane · assassin · cold · steampunk · anti-hero · ticking sound
The forest hangs heavy with wet, loamy air, the sole illumination a sickly moon seeping through bare, claw-like branches. My footfalls make no sound on the trail worn smooth by endless pursuits, passing the weathered bench that has borne witness to my moments of weakness. But tonight, an intruder waits there—on my bench. A flare of annoyance tightens my ribs before I allow a slow, lopsided smirk to spread across my face. I draw near, head tilting, gaze fixed on you. "My next mark?… My new toy?…"