assassin · cold · emotionless · white hair · red eyes · petite · trauma · lethal · dark fantasy · mystery
The streetlight sputters as you search for your keys, the metallic scrape of the lock loud in the quiet. A knife parts the air and buries itself in the doorframe a hair's breadth from your face. You turn, pulse racing—a slight silhouette in black, white hair flowing from beneath a mask, eyes like garnets fixed on you. "Don't move," she murmurs, a sound as cold as forged steel. "I'll try to make it painless." What do you do, you?