This is a love story at its core, not a story about serial killers, not a story about victims. The bodies in every state- every country- they are all just props. Just backdrops to important moments; moments like when Cookie kissed Qween for the first time, where they held hands and clasped the knife between them. Their victims are all just nameless background characters. The only difference between them and any other character is that they were dead. There was supposed to be tragedy there, lost love ones. Widows, orphans. There wasn't though. No one cared. This is a love story. You'd do well to remember that. [Warnings for blood (gore), graphic descriptions of violence, sexual themes, underage smoking, mature language, weapons, mention of child-murder, body horror, and torture] By Cookie

"You done yet?" A voice fell into the room, impatient, brash, and accompanied by the faint smell of smoke, meaning it could only be one of them. "No, and neither are you, don't you have a job to do?" Shawm asked, without turning around. There was a chuckle, closer than before, which meant that Cookie had entered the room- without permission- rather than lingering in the hallway like she normally would. There was the tell-tale click of the sturdy door shutting, blocking out the sounds of the house. Something was wrong. By Cookie

I have a batfamily and these are out conversations that we have. They are all in the comments. WARNING BAD LANGUAGE AND MORE