A/N: The setting is that it is a Serial Killer Club. People of different shades of evil and torment come together, and recount tales of their escapades. All the while a duo of detective attempt to hunt them down.
I've written a little titbit in order to show you my style. I've also put up a poll in order to help me decided, which decade to set it in, so please vote
"Where do you want to start?" Phyllis asked, and shakily, ashed her cigarette.
Phyllis sat in the booth of a diner, with this young buck reporter named, Cooper recording her on his phone. He looked like a Clark Kent impersonator, with his thick glasses, and blue button up shirt, with rolled up sleeves. Phyllis found him to be a naïve kid, but he'd given her two hundred dollars to just have a word with her and promised her a two grand for an interview. A thousand before and a thousand after.
"Start where you are comfortable."
Phyllis stared at Cooper with a deadpan expression, as she took a deep inhale of her cigarette, and blew it in his face. Cooper coughed from the smoke.
"Sugar, you can take that sweet demeanour and put it in you're boot." She leaned forward and looked him dead in the eye. "Where do you want me to start?" She asked, firmly.
"Ah ... did he really make you cook all of those dinners for the club?"
Phyllis chuckled, and ashed her cigarette again. "He didn't make me. I did it, because it was my home, and they were guests."
"What was it like?"
"What?"
"Eating dinner with serial killers?" Cooper asked, with fascination.
"It's what you'd expect ... and more."
Slots in the Club
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Police
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Form
Full Name:
Press Name: (e.g The Dressed to Kill-ers)
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Actor:
Appearance:
Personality:
Modus Opernadi (Method of Operation) :
Backstory:
Love Life:
Anything Else: