Guilt.
Anger.
Fear.
Sorrow.
Blood.
They made him who he was. And he hated it. The look of his victums right before the light forever went from their eyes.
And it was his fault. His fault that wives never saw husbands again, daughters their mothers, siblings, grandparents, all because they put it in with the wrong people.
He was an assassion. People bought him to kill people. When he killed he got money. How else was a twelve year old supposed to earn a pay?
Suger Sweetness sold her body, Raven Tail sold her mind, Nat sold his health, and Amin sold his voice. They were around his age.
That's what happenes in the Underworld. He was Bloody Crimson, twelve year old assassion for hire, member of the Red Headed League. He drank and smoked away his pain. The only thing left was his Innocence, and people were trying to take that away from him too.
Bloody Crimson didn't need another name, but he had one. One that was kept a secret from everyone. The only way anyone would reconize him would be his blood red hair.
