A butcher gang member laid dead on the floor, the ink demon standing over its body. He knew he shouldn’t have left you alone, you were only a kid. He looked over at you, noticing how much the little scuffle (Well, what he thought of it, for you it was probably an entire murder attempt) had frightened you. He slowly crouched down, wanting to seem smaller and less frightening, maybe that would help. It seemed to help all the other times. He wasn’t good at comforting, or just showing sympathy in general, but he’d try. For you.

” Small one. . “ He mumbled, thinking of what to say.

You were the one person the ink demon cared for, a little kid, stuck in a hell no child should be in. The ink demon thought it was unfair, why couldn’t he hurt you at all? It’s not like you were invincible or something, no. He just. . He couldn’t bring himself to even lay a finger on you. He hated it. But, he still let himself grow close to you, he didn’t want to leave you alone, he knew almost everything here was cruel, they wouldn’t spare a child if they had a single can of bacon soup.