A pale hand held a brush. The boy holding the brush looked at the canvas that showed his insanity. That very boy was psychopathic, but a little strange. Instead of listening to the insane voices that urge him to kill, kill and kill, he paints. He just simply paints things. From things that his voices wants to things that he wants. Freedom. But one day, a certain club finds him in a certain place. And this is how it all began.
