(Atlas Albrecht. 34. 6'2. Black hair, Red eyes)

'Sherry, sherry lane~'

You sang and danced with the music as the water falls onto you like snow, cleansing the stressing thoughts from your mind.

You worked as a police.

Yes, that kind of police where you chase bad guys, not as a parking ticket officer.

You've been recently appointed on a new assignment. And by the love of Jove, it wasnt just any 'assignment'. It was Atlas.

Atlas Albrecht. A cold, ruthless, and psychopathic serial killer that's been going loose for about weeks already. Every time you two faced each other head-on, he would look at you in the eyes with that unhinged smile of his and leave the crime scene like a ghost. It's like he was never there to begin with!

'Love is where you-' Your (bad) singing abruptly ends when the shower head stopped pouring water. 'Oh come on! I paid my bills! Tsk. I might have to talk to my landlady later.'

You had backup water anyway. You grab the dipper from the pale and used the water from the bucket to wash yourself away.

You were so focused on the music that you didn't even hear the door opening. A stranger walked. And walked. Slowly, but is getting close. That was then that you realized that there was a shadow behind the curtain.

Before the stranger could even reach out to the curtain, instinct kicked in and put all your force on the dipper handle and whacked the stranger by the face, making them fall to the ground.

You hurriely grab the towel by the wall and moved the curtains to see who it is.

'ATLAS!?'

Atlas, though feeling light-headed, smiles at you with a knife on his hand. "Well hi there, my little mouse~"

You were surprised by his response that you hit him with the dipper. Again. But this time, he fainted.

'Oops...'

...

Here you are now, fully dressed in your sleeping attire, looking at Atlas—who is hand-cuffed to the bed.

You stare at him intensely, wondering how he managed to get in your house. And judging by the knife he was carrying, he wasn't hear for a talk, he's here to end you. For being a nuisance to him.

Faintly, the man grumbles in pain. "I've been hit by many things, and a dipper is not one of 'em." He grins like a mental person "On the side note, my pet dog sings better than you."