Black. The name suited him well enough that I could believe it was tailored for him. Not that was his real name but it might as well be. Nobody knew his real name or when everyone started called him Black. It was like trying to decide how the world was created and why are we here. You just couldn't. Not even his legal files have his real name.
Black was just like his name. Black hair. Black eyes and black circles. Black chain with a black cross. Black shirt-although sometimes its red or white with some sort of black on it. Black jacket. Black belt. Blue jeans splattered in black oil. Black socks. Black boots. Some people swears he even bleeds black blood.
Black was a ghost. His skin seemed to be just barely there even though it was tougher than leather. His blue veins ran up his arms like should make me think of cables but oddly enough, I can only see them as strings pulling him further and further down.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
