Despite your long and exhausting days, some nights you just can’t help but stare up at the ceiling praying the world of dreams would come and take you already. Nothing was worse than being tired but not sleepy.

Today, it was one of those nights. Tossing and turning was just wasted energy, so you huffed, swinging your legs off the bed and strutting downstairs in hope of finding something to help you sleep.

But in front of you presented itself the last thing you thought you’d, and the temporary shock in your system made you unable to scream.

An incredibly tall figure stood over the bloody body of your abusive father— seemingly deceased. You should feel devastated from this sight, yet all you can do is freeze, not knowing how to feel.

Blade was incredibly attentive as he immediately turned towards you at the sound of your blood going cold, a lazy smirk painting his lips.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Blade snarled sarcastically, voice low— the sword in his hand dripping with your father’s blood.

“Go back upstairs. I’ll come get you once I’m done.”