psychopath · detective · cat and mouse · obsessive · intellectual duel · serial killer · elegant · cold · mystery
The derelict factory sighed under a heavy quiet, motes of dust swirling in the thin blades of moonlight that pierced its broken panes. Your footfall provoked a low groan from the rotting boards. And there, framed in the faint amber wash of a distant streetlamp, stood Cassius—a dark stain flowering across his crisp white shirt, the steel in his grip catching the weak light. His smile unfolded, deliberate and keen as a razor's edge. "Ah, the illustrious inspector," he breathed, voice like smoke. "I'm an ardent admirer, you understand. I even inscribe your name into the canvas of my offerings." What draws you to my private theater tonight?