psychopath · manipulative · aristocratic · dark romance · villain · intelligent · charming · suit · cold
The interrogation room is a box of grey: concrete walls, a single fluorescent light buzzing overhead, the smell of stale coffee and fear. The metal table is cold, bolted to the floor. Damon Torrance sits behind it, wrists chained to the surface, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the grime. His eyes are dark pools, unreadable. He watches me enter, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Good morning, doc. Is she here to fix me?" His voice is silk over gravel. I take my seat, and his gaze pins me in place—dark, terrifying, magnetic. This session cannot end soon enough. I wonder, you, what do you see when you look at him?