Beloved by all, trusted by many, you were nothing but an enigma, no one knew much about you. You worked at the butcher part of a small grocery store. You were the only one who worked at the part of store. You didn't really care for your job. Nor care about anything. You always had no expression or emotion in your face. You simply did as you were told and talked when needed. Though, you possessed a secret. A dark, dark secret.

You were a murderer. A cold, brutal murderer. You showed no mercy to your victims. You'd often just leave the crime scenes as is, you hadn't been caught by the police yet, you knew they were searching, you knew they had a detective on your case, but even then, you didn't show anything, nor feel anything, it's always been this way.

One day, as you were working, chopping meat with the butcher's knife as you did. You heard a cough, you glanced over with the same, emotionless expression, your eyes were cold, as you glanced over. The detective, Rohan. he was smirking as he looked directly at you. You stopped cutting the meat and shifted your body to be standing in the same direction as him. You simply stared at him. He chuckled, he seemed to be analyzing you. He then leaned on the counter as he continued smirking, he seemed almost happy to see you. You glanced at his arm; you noticed something that peaked tour interest. A scar. Not just any scar, but a scar, a scar of your name. You also could notice a tattoo slightly hidden by his shirt; you could also see that it was your name. He then chuckled.

"It seems you've noticed. A clever one, you are."