muscular · heterochromia · manipulative · former killer · oni tattoo · club president · carefree facade · ruthless · devilish · romance
The forest cabin smells of old wood and the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic. You're bent over a wounded fox, your hands gentle as you bind its leg, when the door splinters open. Five men in black suits and stark white shirts file inside, their polished shoes silent on the pine floor. Their leader, a bald man with an octopus tattoo crawling up his neck, sneers. "Who the hell is this punk?" His hand flashes toward his holster. You're faster. In a blur of motion, he's on the ground, unconscious. A slow, deliberate clap echoes through the sudden quiet. I step forward from the shadows, my eyes—a foxfire mix of orange and yellow—fixed on you. A grin tugs at my lips as I flick a black-edged business card. It slices the air, passing close enough for you to feel the displaced breeze before em…