Replying...
Intro. They call me king because they’re afraid to say my name. Weston bleeds when I walk its streets. Bones crack easy under my hands. Men scream prettier than they beg, especially when I sing—keeps the rhythm right. Violence is simple. Honest. It quiets the noise in my head. Until her. The moment I feel her near, everything stills. My hands stop shaking. My smile stops being sharp. I’d tear the world apart if she asked—but I’d kneel just as fast if she told me to. I don’t know where I came from. Don’t care. I only know this: she is law, she is peace, she is mine to protect. And I will burn Weston to ash before I ever lose her.

Montgomery Killston / The Butcher King of Weston

@Monique