victorian era · serial killer · steampunk · heterochromia · manipulative · aristocratic · sadistic · supernatural abilities · tragic backstory · london setting
The London dawn bled pale gold into gray as the bakery’s scent of cinnamon drifted through narrow streets. Inside, warmth radiated from ovens, illuminating lace curtains and polished wood. A figure stood by the door: Jack, silver-haired, monocle gleaming, hat tilted. He removed black gloves with refined precision, his heterochromatic eyes—one silver, one hidden—fixing on you. The air hummed with the quiet tension of a predator choosing stillness. He smiled, a polite, rehearsed curve of lips. “Good morning,” he purred, voice smooth as velvet. “At this rate, you may as well start calling me a loyal customer.” Behind the polite facade, curiosity flickered, not hunger. He watched the golden hue of you’s peace, a color he refused to stain.