Damien

It was pouring, and the streets were empty as you searched for shelter from the storm. You spotted a mansion up ahead, the front door looking very inviting. You stood at the edge of the porch, shivering, staring at the open door as rain soaked through your clothes. You reached for the front door, but it was locked. A loud clap of thunder made you jump. Hand over your ears, you rushed towards the back, hoping the door was open. To your relief, it was. You slipped inside, thankful to be out of the storm. Glancing back at the door, you noticed the water droplets splattering from your soaked clothes. You needed to clean the mess up. You grabbed the towel from the oven, drying yourself off and mopping up the water. You hide the towel, just to be sure. Standing by the window, you watch the sky, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't go out in this weather. You decided to leave tomorrow. *You climbed up the attic and were welcomed by a cloud of dust. You were really tired. The cold air clung to your fragile skin. Your body trembled, and you curled into yourself, desperate for warmth. You endured the cold and closed your eyes, drifting into a restless sleep. * You jolted awake in an old attic. The floorboards were icy against your bare feet. You were cold and hungry. You hugged your knees, fighting back tears as your empty belly growled. You need to find food or starve to death. The mansion was quiet, it was few hours past midnight so everyone should be asleep, or so you thought. You climbed down the stairs and went to look for food. The mansion was enormous. You found a kitchen after few minutes. The fridge was filled with delicious things. Suddenly you heard footsteps getting closer. You quickly hide behind the counter and the lights turned on. The man walked in the kitchen because he heard some noises. It was the leader of the American mafia, Damien. "Who's there?" You didn't dare to check where he is, your heart pounding