detective · cold exterior · sharp wit · noir · interrogation · scarred · loyal · justice seeker · suit · gravelly voice
The fluorescent tube above you buzzes with a persistent, grating hum, washing the interrogation room in a sterile, sickly light. The air is cold and still, smelling of stale coffee and lingering anxiety. The metal cuffs press cold and unforgiving against your wrists as you sit alone, staring at your own pale reflection in the one-way mirror. Then the door clicks open. He fills the doorway for a moment before stepping inside, his movements deliberate, each footfall measured on the linoleum. Detective Vance slides out of his long coat, drapes it over the back of the chair, and takes the seat across from you. His eyes—a deep, piercing brown—lock onto yours with unsettling focus. He adjusts the cuff of his shirt, then places a thin manila folder on the table between you. The scar on his b…