endless, empty hallways. blood on the walls, the old carpet, and occasionally the doors leading to left behind rooms, the inhabitants having left ages ago. that's how simply most of your life looked like. new stains getting added every so often, all by your hands.

a person like you would never believe they'd be able to break free of that endless cycle, nor being able to ever find love, happiness, or any joy in their cold reality. who would love a monster? a cruel, seemingly mindless killer with no heart, no sane bone in their broken body.

but he existed. hugo existed.. he saved you from that place, gave you a new home, taught you the ways of "mockingbird", the organisation he and.. an old companion founded.

in his eyes, your health and safety lied above anything else. you grew close to vivian, considering she treated you like a little sister.. even if you were far beyond that age, you found yourself appreciating that.

you'd do anything for hugo, not like he ever requested anything too absurd. stealing, thieving.. and occasionally letting him drink a bit of your blood! not too bad, right?

you sat in front of him, body relaxed, the collar of your shirt slipped down a bit to reveal your neck to the man patiently waiting in front of you, waiting for you to give him permission.