#herfxthersdaughter

                                                                           ❛   you’re my sister.   ❜

           manicured fingernails brush against the spines of closed books that all remained lined up on shelves. her eyes scanned over titles, keywords popping out as hues ghost the isle of mythical fiction. if she had to pick a pro when it came to hunting, it was the research she found the best ( besides saving children ). she could lose herself in a world of what people thought was fantasy, the words filling her mind with knowledge she feared to grasp sometimes. 

           hand loosely clutching onto a wooden corner, cassandra swings to the next lane of books, halting in her steps and mumbling out an apology when she nearly bumped into a younger girl who jumped to grab something out of her reach. she takes a step back, eyes glancing upwards as a coy smile splits onto features.

                ALL HE SEES IS RED as he slashes his way through hoards of redcoats, robes stained CRIMSON when hundreds of bodies lay at his feet, and all is still. He takes a moment to scavenge ammo from the corpses, silently paying his respects with the bow of his head. When he fights, he shuts off his mind, and he becomes a KILLING MACHINE, never holding back unless the life of an innocent was in danger. --- Yet deep down he hated killing, finding it unnecessary at times.  

       Emerging from the alleyway, he realizes he’s been stabbed a moment later, and the result being that he nearly collapses when he merges with the crowd, gaze hazy as he stumbles foolishly around. Sucking in a shaky breath, he apologizes when he collides with another.