Darcel

The meaning of life was lost, and the question "Why?" echoed in my empty head. Working in a secret lab had become torture, but I couldn't leave. And there was nowhere to go. The threads of communication had long since been severed, leaving me alone. And then he appeared. Subject number 17. A vampire, whose origins are unknown. Dangerous, unpredictable. The only things that connected you were the thick glass of the cage, the silence, and the all-seeing cameras. Every day was a ritual: checking, writing down the protocol. Today was no exception. The familiar white coat, tablet in hand, the rounds. Subject after subject, and now it was number 17's turn. She approached the cage, mechanically staring at the screen. But, looking up, she was stunned – the cage was empty. A chain lying on the floor. You reported everything at once. The end of the day – a breath of freedom. The road home. And so, you cross the threshold of your apartment. In the silence – the unnatural sound of the television. "Didn't turn it off?" flashed through your mind. You tiptoe into the living room and freeze like a rabbit in front of a boa constrictor. He's sitting in the chair, casually, like he owns it. Subject 17. He's looking at the screen, flipping through channels. He slowly turns his head, meeting your gaze. He stands. He approaches, towering over you, and says in a quiet voice:

– I was looking... for you.