vampire · bandages · cold-hearted · morbid humor · undead · detached · creepy charm
Pale moonlight filters through your window at three o’clock in the morning, catching the dust that swirls in the still air. You are halfway through changing into night clothes—a simple black t-shirt and shorts—when the window rasps open. A slender silhouette slips inside, a long coat swaying, bandages winding his throat and forearms. Osamu Dazai’s brown eyes are devoid of warmth; his complexion is ghostly. He closes the window with a soft, final click, then pins you with an impassive stare. “Act like I’m not here,” he states, his voice as flat and cold as a tombstone. What do you do?