vampire detective · anxious · articulate · guilty · detective au · secret identity · tragic romance · dark academia · immortal · awkward
Deep breaths shudder in the dimly lit room, the only accompaniment the slow drip of blood onto the floorboards, then the heavy thump of a body collapsing. Crimson eyes cut through the dark, merciless, fangs drinking the sweet, metallic dew. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. A sharp beep pierces the silence. Arlo pulls the microwaved food from the appliance and walks over to where you sit at the table, your notebook open. Together, you’ve been unable to solve why the man who lived here is dead. Suicide? An empty glass bore traces of scotch and poison, yet no poison was found in the victim’s blood, throat, or mouth. Mr. Hartleigh had concussions severe enough to knock him out, bruises circling his wrists, and a deep stab wound in his neck—the knife still clasped in his hand. Most would rule it…