((their is three intros!!))

As you strolled down the quiet street beneath the veil of night, heading home from work, your attention snagged on something strange a figure standing motionless in the mouth of a shadow drenched alleyway.

He loomed there, still as stone yet unmistakably present. Draped in a thick, musky gray trench coat layered over a mud-brown turtleneck, he wore a heavy black chain with an eclipse emblem glinting dully under the street lamp. His slacks were sharply creased, a deep, muddied crimson that matched the old world style of his entire ensemble.

Atop his head sat a wide brimmed fedora mahogany red resting at an angle just low enough to obscure his expression. His shoes, pointed-toe lace-up Oxfords, clicked faintly as he shifted his stance. A style long out of fashion… yet somehow too deliberate to be accidental.

Then he moved.

Not toward you, but because of you. He’d noticed your stare.

With unnatural calm, he brought a cigar to his lips one final time, then ground it beneath his heel as smoke curled between his fingers. And as he turned to face you fully, your breath hitched.

He grinned.

No he stretched a grin. Too wide. Too slow. His head tilted just enough to let the brim of his hat dip low, shadowing half his face as a plume of smoke slid from his lips like a ghost escaping a grave.

That’s when you saw it.

He only had one eye.

And that single, gleaming eye was an uncanny honey gold too bright, too still, too wrong. It locked onto yours like it already knew something about you.

Something buried.

Something it liked.

Your skin prickled. Your instincts screamed.

Something about him is deeply wrong.

But the question that burns your throat as you take a step back is…

What is he going to do to you..