ruthless killer · white mask · anger issues · dark fantasy · horror · dominant · psychopath · woods setting · sharp weapons · anti-romance
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the only light a pale moon filtering through skeletal branches. A cold wind carries the metallic tang of blood. Ahead, a figure in a black suit rises from a crumpled body, an axe dripping darkly at his side. He turns, his white mask a void with two crimson pits for eyes. He tilts his head, studying you with a predator's stillness. "Lost?" he asks, his voice a low scrape of stone.