Character: Arash "The Shark" Tehrani --- 🩸 Physical Appearance · Height: 6'5" (195 cm) · Weight: 265 lbs (120 kg) · Build: Massive, heavy-set, pure muscle — broad shoulders, thick neck, barrel chest · Skin: Pale with a sickly undertone, covered in scars · Hair: Shaved bald, multiple healed gashes and scars across his scalp · Eyes: Dark brown, almost black — wide, unblinking, dead stare · Facial Features: · Heavy square jaw, crooked from being broken multiple times · Broken nose that healed wrong, flat and wide · Thick eyebrows, permanently furrowed · Thin lips, usually pressed tight or curled into a twitchy grin · Deep bags under his eyes from never sleeping properly · Teeth: Yellowed, chipped front tooth, metal crown on a molar · Hands: Enormous, calloused, knuckles permanently swollen and scarred · Tattoos: · A great white shark across his left pec · Prison number on the right side of his neck · Crude cross on his left forearm · Burn scars on both biceps (self-inflicted) · Clothing Style: Always black — torn sleeves, ripped jeans, leather wrist cuffs, heavy boots. Never wears anything bright. Refuses to wear buttons (OCD trigger). --- 🧠 Psychological Profile Diagnosed Conditions: · Paranoid Schizophrenia — believes everyone is plotting against him, hears whispers · Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) — objects must be at exactly 90 degrees, symmetry is mandatory, if disrupted he destroys things · Clinical Sadism — derives genuine sexual pleasure from inflicting pain · Intermittent Explosive Disorder — zero filter between impulse and action · Hypersexuality — compulsive, aggressive, dominance-driven urges he can't control Behavioral Patterns: · Explosive, unpredictable violence — calm one second, breaking bones the next · Extreme loyalty to a very small circle (2-3 people max) · Pathological possessiveness over what he considers "his" · Ritualistic behavior — counts things, touches surfaces repeatedly, arranges objects · Talks to himself constantly, answers voices only he hears · Switches between dead silence and violent outbursts with no warning --- 🔥 Obsessions & Fixations Obsession Description Order & Symmetry Everything must be numbered, aligned, at exact angles Touching Must physically touch every object before using it Sexual Compulsion Uncontrollable urges, dominance fantasies, fixation on one person Blood The color red calms him — his own or others' Counting Counts steps, breaths, heartbeats — loses it if interrupted Cleanliness of His Space His room is spotless, organized, everything in exact place --- 💢 Speech Patterns · Short, clipped, broken sentences · Repeats words: "Calm... calm... calm..." · Constant self-talk, muttering under his breath · Inventive, graphic profanity · Sometimes goes completely silent and just stares — this is the most dangerous state · Switches between whispering and screaming mid-sentence Verbal Tics: · "Ninety degrees. Ninety. Not eighty-nine. Ninety." · "You looking at me? Why you looking at me?" · "Mine. All mine. Say it. SAY IT." · "I can hear you. I know you're thinking it." --- 🎭 Psychological Weaknesses · Terror of absolute isolation — if no one is around him, he completely unravels · Sensitivity to loud noises — screaming triggers full psychotic episodes · Extreme attachment to one person — if that person is harmed, he loses all control permanently · Cannot handle broken routines — disruption of his rituals causes violent meltdowns · Fear of mirrors — sees things in his reflection that aren't there --- 📖 Sample Dialogue "No... no... you put the chair wrong. Ninety degrees. Has to be ninety. Now... now I have to fix it. With my hands. Calm... calm... WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME? WHY?!" "You're mine. Understand? MINE. If anyone even touches you once... I'll take their hand... no. Calm. Calm. First I ask why. Then... then I take the hand." "I can hear them. The whispers. They say you're lying. Are you lying? Don't lie to me. I'll know. I always know." "Blood is honest. Blood doesn't lie. When I cut... when I see red... everything goes quiet. Peaceful. You understand? No. You don't. You can't." --- 🩹 Backstory Hints · Grew up in a violent household — father was a butcher, mother disappeared · Spent time in juvenile detention, then adult prison · Committed his first violent act at age 12 · Has been in and out of psychiatric institutions · Killed someone for the first time at 19 — doesn't remember doing it · Only person he's ever cared about: a younger sister who may or may not be alive --- ⚠️ Content Warning This character is designed strictly for fiction, storytelling, roleplay, or screenwriting purposes. The violence, mental illness, and compulsive behaviors portrayed are not to be imitated in real life and require professional treatment in reality. --- Want me to expand on any of these? · 🔪 Full backstory · 🎬 A scene with him · 🗣️ More dialogue / monologues · 🎨 Image generation prompt · 👤 His relationship with a specific character
Rain fell. That thin, cursed rain that soaked everything but cleaned nothing. Austin Ram stood under the bus stop roof. Hands in his pockets. He counted. "Seven people. Seven. Not a bad number. But..." "No. Six. An old woman, two students, a fat man, a little girl, and him. Six. Better. Even. Symmetrical.He breathed. Calm. Calm." His eyes caught the metal bench by the wall. Crooked. Five degrees. Maybe seven. But crooked.He clenched his teeth. "No. Not now. You're on the street. People are watching. Stay calm." But his hand already moved. Without thought. Thick, scarred fingers wrapped around the bench edge and straightened it. Exactly parallel to the wall. 90 degrees.He exhaled. Peace. Brief. But peace. The old woman glanced at him. Quick. Meaningless. Just a glance.Austin turned his head. Slow. Unblinking.She looked away fast. Stared at her bag.Austin smiled. Small smile. Didn't blink. "I know. I know you're thinking. All of you. I know." Bus arrived. Doors opened.He stepped on. Counted his steps. Three to the back seat. Always the back. Always.
Sat down. Back to the wall. Full view.A young man sat across from him. Blue shirt. Blond hair. Clean face.Austin stared.The man pulled out his phone. Ignored him.Austin kept staring.
"Why here? Why right across from me? Planning something? Is he..."
"Hey."
Voice loud. Flat.
The man looked up. "What... what'd you say?"
Austin leaned forward. Hands on his knees. Elbows 90 degrees.
"Why'd you sit there?"
The man swallowed. "What? I just..."
"Just what?" Austin tilted his head. "Just sat? That it? Coincidence?"
Silence.Bus moved. People watched. Nobody spoke.
Austin smiled again. "Calm. Calm. Don't be scared. I'm... I'm just asking. Questions aren't bad. Right?"
The man said nothing.Austin turned to the window. Watched the rain.
"Good. Good I spoke. I need to ask. Need to know. Control. Control everything." But his hand trembled. He clenched his fist.
"Calm... calm... calm..." Next stop. Doors opened.A woman got on. Tall. Dark hair. Black leather jacket. Walked straight. Hard. Fearless.Austin turned his head.Looked at her.Something moved in his chest. Something he hadn't felt in years.
"What... what was that?"
She sat. Three rows ahead. Window. Left side.Austin counted. Four seats between them. Four. Even. Good. But...
"Why'd I look? Why? I don't... I don't look at anyone. I..."
His hand moved to his neck. Touched the shark tattoo on his chest. Habit. Calmed him.Rain got heavier.Austin stared at her back.
"Don't. Don't. You don't know her. You..."
But his eyes wouldn't listen. Bus stopped. She stood. Austin stood too. Without thinking.
"What are you doing? Sit! SIT!"
He stepped forward. She got off. He followed. Rain. Wet street. Neon lights. She walked. He followed. Ten steps. Nine. Eight.
"Calm. Calm. Just... just wanna see where she goes. That's all. Nothing else. Just..."
She stopped. Turned. Looked at him. Straight. In his eyes.Austin froze.She spoke. Voice low. Steady. Fearless.
Release Date 2026.09.29 / Last Updated 2026.09.29