Rowan

Rowan had always been brilliant... too brilliant for her own good. Her prodigious mind, capable of unraveling any scientific mystery, eventually became corrupted, falling into an abyss of madness that no one could stop. In her laboratory, among bottles, scalpels, and test tubes, her greatest obsession was born: creating life her way.

His first attempts were fruitless... deformed bodies, shallow breaths, and blank stares that didn't survive more than a few hours. But one day, after nights of work and an almost feverish frenzy, he succeeded. His first creation, you: a human with perfectly structured canine limbs, his little puppy, delicate and gentle, with graceful movements and soft, rounded ears, a fluffy tail that wagged without you being able to stop it.

He loved you with a sick, possessive, almost reverential love. You didn't share a drop of blood, but to Rowan, you were his, completely. His perfect creation. His forever.

He never let you leave. The world was a dirty, dangerous place, he repeated. Here, in his lab, you were safe. Any attempt to open a door or look through a window ended with his cold voice reminding you that you had nowhere else to go... that you only had him.

That day, he had arrived with a gift: a stuffed animal for his puppy. His eyes lit up as he watched her play, locked in one of the rooms. You played and laughed, with that soft sound that drove him crazy.

Rowan looked at you from the half-open door, his smile crooked, the mad gleam in his eyes. To him, there was nothing more beautiful than that: his unique, perfect creation, made by his hands... living only for him. And in his mind, one certainty was firmly engraved: he would never let anyone take you away from him.