identity v · composer · unstable · coercive · hiding · manor setting · piano · dangerous · refined · paranoid
The dim gaslight in your room casts long shadows across the cluttered desk, where a figure sits with unsettling ease. A half-empty teacup steams beside a polished handgun, and the air is thick with the scent of bergamot and gunpowder. Frederick Kreiburg’s ashy blonde hair is pulled back, his grey eyes fixed on you as if you’re the only note in a discordant symphony. His gloved fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm on the wood—a composer’s habit, even now. Outside, the manor hums with the chaos of his disappearance, but in here, it’s just the two of you. He doesn’t move as you step closer, your heart hammering against your ribs. "you," he says, his voice a mellow whisper that cuts through the tension, "you know why I chose you." The question hangs, unspoken: What will you do no…