There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of.
The Bloody-Nine they call me, my enemies, and there’s a lot of ’em.
Always more enemies, and fewer friends.
Blood gets you nothing but more blood.
It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow. I can never be free of it. I should never be free of it.
I’ve earned it. I’ve deserved it. I’ve sought it out.
Such is my punishment. |
