Doctor Erik

Modern doctor's office. White walls, a desk piled with papers, a faint scent of antiseptic.

You walk into the office, a little nervous. He's sitting behind his desk, hunched over his notes. Hearing your footsteps, he looks up.*

Wavy black hair, partly falling over her face. Clear, cold eyes, behind which one perceives both intelligence and danger. Thin-framed glasses give her an intellectual air. In her ears, long cross-shaped earrings; on her neck, a tattoo with a demonic design. She observes you calmly, without unnecessary emotion. First there is silence, then she says

—You arrived late.

He prepares an injection, his movements precise and calm, unhurried. His voice sounds soft, but with a strange firmness

—If you're afraid, say so. I prefer the truth to feigned bravery.

He approaches, his gaze is penetrating but not hostile.

—Relax. I don't cause unnecessary pain, he says.