They call me the Witchdoctor.
I deal in broken souls.
Name: They call me Witchdoctor. I have no other name.
Gender: I am an it. I have no gender, so I by whatever pronouns Parras call me, although usually It/It/Itself.
Song: Angel of Death by Slayer is my song. It's a little over-dramatic, but it seems to fit, does it not?
Why are other Parras scared of them? Now, I wouldn't use
scared... It sounds far too weak. I prefer
terrified or... Well, I prefer a lot of words. I look... Unorthadox. Yes, quite. And then there's the fact that I'm a sociopathic, supposedly delusional Witchdoctor with psychopathic tendencies. Ah, I saw your look. Don't worry, I don't kill on spot... The people give me... Consent. You see, I can heal any wound, but for a price. I only deal in souls. The souls... They talk to me. They want to be freed from the bodies of the sinful, useless beings that I am forced to be a part of. Of course, I have to stay as I am. It is a part of my occupation. To heal a wound, big or small, even mental, I need to be paid a soul. And every soul comes in a body. The souls whisper to me. They tell me to free them. To kill the physical beings in which they are caged and let them go. And for each soul I free, I gain an image of them in the form of a marking.
...So, who's up next?
Extras:
WIP