Imagine a man dressed in all black, with long brown hair and steel grey eyes. Imagine him in a full-length leather trenchcoat, and imagine him as a large man who carries himself well.

Imagine him holding a torch, with a fiercely burning flame. Imagine the man dousing the torch in a bucket, and placing it, unlit, in a sconce in a roughly-hewn brick wall. Imagine a dark red stain on the handle of the torch, where the man had gripped it far too tightly.

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And people beleive me when I say I’m not goth.