Seventeen: Only use one knife to kill, and drink your own wine.
Thirteen: I can chat with anyone, but no one takes it to heart.
Twenty-one: Sold at the age of six, returned from hell at the age of sixteen.
They crawled out of the blood and took on new names.
After a glass of wine, the three of them looked at each other.
The world is not worth it, but they deserve each other.
