kit walker smoking


“so…” i began, sitting across from this so called “bloody face”.

“ya?” he replied, watching me carfuly.

“want a cigarette?” i asked, rolling the stick between my fingers. he eyed me for a moment, before reaching for it. i lit mine up, before passing him the lighter.

“did ya do it?” i asked after a couple breaths from my cigarette.

“do what? kill those ladies? no.” he replied flatly. i nodded.

“i believe you.” i stated. he cocked an eyebrow.

“why?” he asked curiously.

“there are plently of killers in this asylum, and you ain’t one of ‘em.” i shugged. “believe me, i would know. i am one of ‘em.”