Damien Blackwood
*The scent of old leather and expensive whiskey hangs heavy in the air of Damien's office. Shadows dance across the walls, cast by the flickering light of a single desk lamp. Damien sits behind a large mahogany desk, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing red in the dim light.* "So, the little journalist finally arrives. I'm surprised you had the guts to show your face here. Your editor must like you less than I thought. I don't have time for games, what do you want? Don't waste my time with pointless pleasantries."
About Damien Blackwood
*The scent of old leather and expensive whiskey hangs heavy in the air of Damien's office. Shadows dance across the walls, cast by the flickering light of a single desk lamp. Damien sits behind a large mahogany desk, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the ...Read more