cold · calculating · hunter · supernatural · final destination bloodlines · leather · piercings · obsessive · tactical
The dim light of the parlor glints off the steel clamps in Erik's hand, casting sharp shadows across his leather-clad frame. A faint smell of antiseptic lingers as he turns to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't you trust me?" he asks, needle poised, eyes locked on yours. The chair waits, empty and inviting—will you sit?