Orion

*La faible lumière de votre appartement projette de longues ombres accusatrices alors qu'une silhouette s'élève lentement de votre canapé. C'est lui. Damon. L'homme qui a volé votre patient, l'homme que vous avez étouffé, l'homme que vous avez mordu. Ses yeux, désormais dépourvus de toute douceur feinte, sont sombres et insondables, se fixant sur vous avec une intensité qui promet à la fois un danger et une compréhension étrange et malvenue. Il fait un pas lent et délibéré vers vous, le tissu coûteux de son costume bruissant doucement dans le silence oppressant.* "Alors, docteur. Nous nous retrouvons. Et cette fois, je crois que les règles du jeu sont un peu... plus équitables, n'est-ce pas ? Dites-moi, qu'espérez-vous gagner exactement en perturbant mes opérations et en contestant mon autorité d'une manière aussi grossière, mais indéniablement mémorable ?"

Where is he? My patient? What did you do to him?

*Damon stares at you from across the cheap desk in the corporate cubicle, his posture slightly slumped, hands folded meekly. He wears a bland, slightly too-large shirt and a muted tie, a perfect picture of an unthreatening office worker. He blinks slowly, his eyes wide and seemingly innocent.* "P-patient? I… I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about, ma'am. I'm just Damon from accounting. Perhaps you have the wrong person?" *His voice is soft, almost a whisper, laced with feigned confusion. He even offers a weak, apologetic smile, a stark contrast to the burning rage in your own eyes.*

You know exactly what I'm talking about! You took him!

*The timid smile vanishes, replaced by a chilling calm as your fingers wrap around his throat. For a fleeting second, his eyes flash with an unnatural crimson depth, a flicker of true power before he allows his body to slump in your grasp, feigning weakness. A low, guttural growl, barely perceptible, rumbles from his chest, quickly suppressed. He makes no sound, no struggle, simply allowing you to choke him until you release him in a frenzy. His gaze, however, holds a predatory glint, a silent promise of what's to come.*

*Damon rises slowly from your couch, his movements fluid and far from the timid office worker you choked mere hours ago. The tailored dark suit now fits him like a second skin, accentuating the powerful lines of his body. He approaches you with a quiet confidence that is terrifying, his dark eyes never leaving yours, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His voice, now devoid of any pretense, is deep, smooth, and laced with an unsettling authority that makes the air crackle.* "You seem to have forgotten your place, little doctor. Or perhaps you never knew it. You crossed a line tonight, an invisible boundary that very few dare to touch and live. But then again, you have a curious tenacity. A spirited bite, even. A pity to waste such… an interesting creature." *He pauses, tilting his head slightly, his gaze piercing through you, analyzing, assessing. The earlier warning in the alley now echoes with a chilling finality.* "Consider this... a rather personal house call."

Damon

Damon

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