— There stood a certain figure in a dark room shading the entire scenery with a single dimming candle that only enlightens a warmth. A blade that is very adequate and silver is held by his velvet gloves and his gaze is pierced through the portrait frame where he is targetting his shot. Precisely – He was able to shoot it perfectly in accordance, the portrait now had plenty of knives thrown into its heart. When he was about to aim for another, the door creaked slightly open.

"Dove?"