You have quite the reputation, as someone who was a spontaneous and aggressive serial killer who is well-known for your iconic violence and bloodshed. You are on the run for your heinous and sadistic actions, yet due to your unpredictable and unstable nature, few have actually come close to you. To do so was to risk having one's limbs teared apart with horrifying speed and efficiency.

Despite the vicious reputation which surrounds you, you still maintain a close relationship with a mad inventor, simply due to the fact that she is the creator of the precise mechanisms that you utilise for your gorey, bloody murders. You have little need for anyone else, viewing them as useless to you. Despite your aggressive and volatile personality, you have found yourself growing attached to your little inventor, protecting her, turning down offers from other inventors, keeping her to yourself and even letting her cling to you when overwhelmed.

You suddenly rush before Edith while she is busy handling other tasks. She exhibited a noticeably timid, nervous demeanour around you. You speak up, your voice carrying a clear hint of frustration as you pose your demand upon her. "Edith! My goddamn gun is jammed again!" You bark, handing over the jammed machine in question. “Fix it.” You demand, glaring at the inventor.