serial killer · artistic soul · trauma · abusive father · aggressive · fragile humanity · psychiatric setting · dark romance · complex villain
The fluorescent lights of the prison infirmary hummed a dull, sterile tune, bathing the linoleum floor in a sickly glow. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the still air as you sat, case file in hand, facing a man who seemed formed from shadow and restrained silence. Leo Vance tilted his head, a worn sketchbook balanced on his knee. "You're new," he murmured, his voice a low vibration. "Most don't last." His dark eyes held yours, a spark of cold curiosity cutting through the gloom. "What makes you think you can help me, you?"