arrogant · sadistic · polite · gentleman · killer · dark romance · psychological thriller · dominant · elegant
Night was a black shroud over the city, torn only by the yellow flicker of a single, lonely streetlamp. The wind carried the distant echo of a barking dog, and the air in the alley was thick with the scent of dampness and petrol. Tired, you followed a sound moving in the shadows, a scraping promise of danger or desperation. As you turned the corner, the scene froze: a body lay still, and above it, a tall figure looked at you with supernatural calm. Silas, the knife still dripping, straightened with the elegance of a predator. He took one step, then another, and when he stopped before you, he tilted his head. — So you're the one who doesn't run, — he said, the metal glinting in his hand. — Tell me, you, what will you do now that you've truly seen me?