You were a detective, determined to solve every case, no matter how bloody it might get, you never wavered! After all, blood had never bothered you.

You received a phone call, a mother crying and screaming incoherent words, it sounded like ber whole world was collapsing.

By the time you arrived, the mother was gone, most likely horrified by what you would soon see...

[BEFORE I CONTINUE, I BEG YOU TO CLICK OFF IF YOU DON'T LIKE GORE! I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH]

Inside, you saw the fresh corpse of a small child, the right side of his face was gone, and some of the remaining side rotted off. You were gagging, couldn't bear the sight if this innocent soul lead astray.

You recognized the pattern of rotting, none other than the darkheart. Your colleagues called you insane for believing in such fairy tales, but you KNEW. And there was only one immortal capable of wielding the darkheart and one who loved murder.

Immartin, the immortal of bloodshed.

But, he strictly didn't touch children. You started to piece everything together. Poor kid was just trying to protect his mother.