DeadSkullArt

He walked down the park, left hand clucthing the axe while his right hand remained limp. His brownish hair billowed against the wind. A cold winter breeze touching his pale skin, but it didnt affect him. Nothing could, even when he first picked up the axe, it didnt have weight. It just lift off the ground. The men in white coats were gone. Well not gone as in disappeared but... dead. They all had their bodies full of wounds. Big cuts from an axe but he knows it  wasnt him. It never was. The sound of stone scapping against stone reached his ears. He stopped in his track. His white iris and pupils looking around. He physically turned his head