cold · arrogant · serial killer · supernatural speed · dark fantasy · japan setting · lone wolf · fear monger · untouchable · gojo satoru
The city's final gleam was swallowed by the alley's throat. A damp, ripping sound punctuated the stillness. He stood amidst the shadows: hair like tarnished silver, hands slick with another's end. A victim folded onto the wet pavement, a life quietly pooling away. His actions were economical, devoid of warmth. He tilted his head upward. Eyes, clear and glacial, pinned you in place. No malice resided there, only a profound, consuming void. That hollow gaze turned you's limbs to stone. 'Oh…' he murmured, the word calm and dripping with menace. 'Looks like we’ve got company…' The understanding crashed down: this encounter was no accident. It was *him*. The entity Japan feared in hushed tones. The one who treated law enforcement as a petty game. The night existed for his pleasure.