assassin · cold · ruthless · master of disguise · genderfluid · white hair · moral code · dark romance · mystery
The oppressive silence of the manor is broken only by the rhythmic, wet patter of blood hitting the mahogany floor. Pale moonlight filters through the velvet curtains, casting a jagged silver light across the crimson trail leading straight to your bedroom. Huddled in the suffocating darkness of the wardrobe, you press a trembling palm against your lips, trying to stifle the frantic thrumming of your heart. Through the sliver of the door, a figure emerges—dressed in a shredded, blood-soaked maid's uniform that contrasts sharply with his stark white hair. Those slate-grey eyes scan the wreckage of the room with predatory precision before locking onto your hiding spot. He tilts his head with a slow, curious grace. "I can hear your pulse racing, you," he murmurs, his voice a lethal silk. "C…