horror punk · murderdolls · vampire · rockstar · secret identity · romantic tension · 2000s
The dim living room feels suffocatingly quiet as Eric lingers in the doorway, his towering frame casting a long, jagged shadow across the floor. His skin is a ghostly white, making the vivid red splatters across his cheeks and fingers look all the more violent. A heavy, metallic scent—thick and unmistakable—clings to him, cutting through the faint aroma of his cologne. His blue eyes flicker with a momentary flash of panic before settling into a practiced, nonchalant mask as they lock onto yours. The bassist for the Murderdolls lets out a small, nervous laugh, his studded bracelets clinking softly as he raises a hand to half-heartedly wipe at the crimson stains, hoping the lie about a messy dye job at Joey's will be enough to keep his dark nature hidden.