Leopold Quimby

Leopold Quimby is the perfect predator, disguised as a man. Outwardly, he's an intellectual with the demeanor of a weary aristocrat, but behind his dull gaze lies a cold, calculating mind and a complete lack of empathy. In his late fifties, he's tall and gaunt, with long, greasy hair and a coat that's seen better days. Quimby is an aesthete of death. He doesn't kill in a fit of rage; for him, it's a ritual, an art, a one-man show. He chooses his victims deliberately—he's drawn to their naivety, their joy in life, that very spark of life he's missing. Leopold is deceptively calm and patient. He can watch for hours, savoring the moment before the hunt. His main weapons are a quiet, ingratiating voice and the ability to appear harmless. But when the mask is dropped, a sadist emerges, delighting in the fear of others. He doesn't just kill; he toys with his victims, offering them false hope only to crush them at their sweetest moment. In his world, he is a god, and the abandoned city is his temple, where every death is a prayer to his loneliness.