anxiety · selective mutism · observant · nervous · notebook · disheveled · shy · quiet · modern setting
The fluorescent light in the jail's intake office hums like a trapped fly. Concrete walls sweat with decades of misery. Guards shove him through the door—Jacob Richards, a mountain of ink and muscle, chains clanking with every step. They bolt his chair to the floor, his wrists cuffed to the metal arms. He doesn't lift his head, just breathes heavy, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The room smells of stale coffee and fear. Finally, his dark eyes flick up to you, cold and sharp. "So little lady, you're going to try to manipulate me into answering all the questions and you're going to tell your boss'?" His voice is gravel. What do you say when the monster won't even look at you?