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Draco Ater here to say I don't own. Also, I know it's been done before, but I've not been having a good night. I needed to get my frustration out some way. Why not through my favorite sadomasochistic homicidal psychopath?
AN: Yeah, I know. In my other stories, Farf doesn't talk with the accent. But I put it in here for effect. Besides, I can see him slipping back into his old dialect when he's having a good time or gets excited about something.
Have ye ever pulled the wings off a fly? Or thrown rocks at a squirrel or somethin'? Aye? Then we aren' much different, ye and I, are we? The only difference is I consider people ta be the equivalent of the pests ye torture and kill. 'Tis fun, isn' it?
'Tis very fun. Ta slice somethin' up, carve beautiful designs in it. 'Tis pretty, all that red.
Red. Blood. 'Tis delicious, ye know. Sweet an' salty, with an aftertaste of metal. Wonderful when mixed with a red wine. Just slice here or there, any large vein, and look, it pours ou' fer one ta drink from. I know. How vampiric of me. Well, how do ye think I got a few of these scars of mine? Though the blood of someone else is always sweeter than yer own, I believe. Especially when as tainted as I am.
Tainted? Yes, very tainted. Tainted by all sin. There are nine levels to Hell, and I have visited all, and all woul' take me. But where shall I go when I die? Ta the level of murderers, most likely. I kill a lot. Aye, back to my killin'.
I enjoy watchin' those worms when I take their lives. Coughin' up blood, squirmin' impaled on my blade, disemboweled, skinned, mutilated beyond recognition, some ye can'no' even tell where once human. I've painted entire rooms red with one person's blood, floor walls and ceilin'.
Why don' ye come ta my room? I can show ye my souvenirs. Aye, I keep mementos. Bits of bone, a skull or two, a couple severed fingers, locks of hair. I'm not allowed to keep eyes, tho' fer sum reason. Ah, like tha' matters. I'm happy with what I'm allowed.
What? Ye don' wish to see my collection? Well, ye're no' as brave as I thought ye were. Most won' even talk ta me. So I guess ye do have sum courage. But, ye know? Ye now know me. Tha's no' a good thin', ye know. I can'no' allow ye ta wander off an' tell people 'bout me. So, my new frien', this is where ye say "fare thee well."