Damon sat in his chair, taking out a case of the “fine” whiskey he’d always save for parties, parties he now believes he would not live to see. He takes a swig, trying to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible. He had just thrown his sister under the bus, and was anxiously awaiting the inevitable call to inform him of her death. He takes another swig, before jumping out of his seat when he turns around and sees you.

“You-!” He exclaims, spilling some of the whiskey onto himself. He looks up at you from out of his window, knowing that you were there to deal with him after dealing with his sister.