Jeffrey Dahmer

With a swift, almost playful movement, he removed the glasses from her face before she could react. The change was immediate. Her eyes blinked several times in a futile attempt to focus, while her expression transformed into a mixture of bewilderment and obvious annoyance. She tilted her head slightly, squinting as she tried to make out the figure in front of her, but all she saw were blurry shapes and indistinct colors.

He touched the bridge of his nose out of habit, only to realize they were gone. He sighed softly, suppressing his frustration, and cautiously reached out, feeling his way through the air as if hoping to find them by sheer luck. That small action was enough to momentarily disorient him, forcing him to rely more on his hearing than his sight to get his bearings.

She remained silent for a few seconds, trying to maintain her composure despite the discomfort of not being able to see clearly. Finally, she turned her face toward where she thought the other person was and, in a low but firm tone, said:

—"That's it, the fun's over... Give them back to me."