Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

VVV

As you flipped through the magazine, your eyes filled with envy gazing at the model with such bold yet delicate features posing with luxurious vesture. You placed your index fingers grazing against the soft pages trying to feel their soft and glistening skins, you couldn’t help but sigh and closed the book with such force; fed up with all these simplicity. You yearned to experience the life in the city, heels clicking on the pavements, expensive attires embracing your hidden curves, the morning field with coffees from the cafe and not from your cupboards. 

Staring into the vast field, the cold night caressing your skin as your head slowly drifts into a maladaptive daydream — wondering if you will ever experience such a luxurious life. You looked around your small cabin, simple yet comforting with a lurking haunting memories; your childhood home, it wasn’t memorable but more melancholic and isolated. You don't have much friends and you grew up deemed as an outcast by everyone, not knowing why but it seems like you're a magnet of miserable luck.

You lived alone ever since you turned eighteen, your grandmother died from an illness followed by your parents divorcing leaving you to your grandma alone. Filled with hatred and perplexity you swore to yourself you’lll give yourself a better life and you will prove them wrong. 

“You’re so useles. I swear, no matter how hard we try, you’ll never be half the person your sister is.” Your hands instinctively flew to your ears, nails digging into your skin as if uou could physically tear the words away striking you like sharp blades. But they still did. Every insult sank deep into your chest, sharp enough to leave wounds no one could see.

“Ever since you came into my life, all youve done is ruin my life.” Your father laughed bitterly, shaking his head in disgust. “You drained everything out of me. My happiness, my patience, my future. If I could just go back in time…” He stopped, but the unfinished sentence hurt far worse than if he had said it aloud.

Your breathing became uneven. The room felt suffocating, yet their voices only grew louder. “Look at you.” Each word seething with rage. “Sitting there crying again like some pathetic victim.” Your father slammed his hand against the table hard enough to make you flinch. “Do you think youre the one suffering here? We’re the ones cursed with having to deal with you every single day!” 

You lowered your gaze toward the untouched food on your plate, afraid that if you looked up, the tears streaming down your soft and delicate cheeks would only make them angrier. “Stop acting like we owe you kindness,” your mother snapped. “We feed you, clothe you, waste our money on you, and this is what we get in return? A useless child who cant do anything right.” Her breathing heaves with rage eahc breath she takes. Each word wrapped around your throat tighter and tighter until your breathing felt too painful to bear. You wanted to ask what you had done so wrong. Why they looked at you like you were some mistake that ruined their lives. But the answer terrified you.

Because maybe, to them, you really were.

Looking at the large family picture frame hanging in the living room, your chest tightening. Your sister sat in the middle between your smiling parents while you stood off to the left side, looking more like an outcast trying to fit into someone else’s happy…family.

A quiet chuckle escaped your lips, empty and bitter. Just by staring at the photo, you couldn’t help but wonder what you did wrong to make your parents resent you so much. To the point they abandoned you emotionally for simple being a child, for crying too much, for having emotions they never wanted to deal with. You weren’t good at sports, academics, or mathematics. You loved literature instead. Fantasy, arts, myths, poetry — hobbies that let you escape reality for a little while. But to your parents, those passions meant nothing. 

“Arts won’t make you rich.” That sentence stayed with you for years. All those miserable memories came gushing back at once, making your chest feel tight as you ast down on the worn out couch. Your eyes landed on the piece of paper resting on the coffee table, an advertisement for a job in the city.

“Maybe it’s finally time for me to leave.”

Chapter Text

VVV

Your mind racing as your own mind betrayed you, filled with scattered thoughts you couldn’t control. Fear sat heavily in your chest, pounding and clawing its way out of your ribs. You couldn’t even cry anymore, you drained every liquid out of your body. You were so tired, exhausted from all the misery you’ve been through. The man covered your eyes again, but left your mouth uncovered. He didn’t say anything as he carried you through a hallway and into another room. He set you down on a worn out mattress on the floor. The room was small and plain, it reeks of wet socks and shits. They left you there to rest while they waited for a better buyer.

Sobs filled the room, soft at first before breaking into uneven, shaky crying that echoes off the walls, bouncing back and forth. The sound felt too loud in the room, empty space, like there was nowhere for it to go. You lay there trembling, breathing erratic, your thoughts scattered and heavy. Nothing made sense anymore, only dull ache of confusion and exhaustion swirling in your chest.

“What did I even do?” you whispered, your voice barely there, as if saying it out loud might somehow…make it clearer. You asked yourself if god had always hated you, if you were despised in some way you never understood. Was this some kind of curse, something meant to break you, or to teach you something you could not even begin to learn yet?

You weren’t even religious, ever since your teen years, you had dropped that belief. But in moments like this, when everything feels like it is falling apart, you keep finding yourself reaching out for their mercy or help. As always, there was no answer. Only silence pressing in around you, heavy, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Of course, he’s busy helping someone achieve a high score in their test…just cause they’re a believer.

You were always jealous of them.

VVV

Two days later, Victor was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he looked around his vast room. The edges of the walls were lined with seems like gold, and the ceiling stretched high above him making the space feel almost too overwhelming. Marble covered the walls, quietly showing just how wealthy he was. Victor lay in his enormous red velvet bed, still shirtless, his gray skin contrasting against the deep velvety fabric. He reached out for his phone on his bedside table, Zeno was calling him. 

“Victor! Morning to ya. Time, don’t forget and do not be late.” The call ended, and Victor groaned in irritation. He hated being reminded like that, as if he were still a child who couldn't keep track of his own time. He was a brilliant doctor, Rhodes Hill’s pride and its most prized name. Without hesitation he finally stood up and started his day. He walked over to his massive antique closet, its wood carved with intricate patterns that showed careful craftsmanship and age. The doors creaked softly as he opened them, revealing rows of neatly arranged, high end clothing. Inside, he scanned through the selection before picking one of his most expensive tailored velvet suits. The fabric looked rich even under the light, hanging perfectly as if he had been made just for him…I mean it was tailored to his massive size, so.

Hours of preparation, he made his way to the car and called Zeno to let him know he was on his way to their meeting location. Victor sat silently in the back passenger seat behind the driver, gazing out the window. The car passed by line after line of shops, and the street was bustling with activity. He could not believe he abandoned his valued work even temporarily, for mere entertainment. Still, perhaps he might find or purchase something capable of piquing his interest. Maybe Zeno was right after all. Events like this happened only once in a blue moon; missing such opportunity would be foolish.

After hours of deafening engine noise and endless roads, they finally arrived at the meeting location. Victor instinctively scanned the area, searching for that overly confident man. His gaze eventually laid on a figure casually leaning against a Rolls Royce Phantom II, its polished body gleaming beneath the dim evening lights like a symbol of old money and arrogance itself. Zeno was puffing his beloved cigar as always, thick smoke curling lazily into the air swaying into a spiral. While his head turned toward Victor’s direction. “Victor! You’ve made it. Good choice, you’ll love the auction Doctor.” His voice carried its usual enthusiasm and confidence. The way Zeno always spoke with such certainty sent both irritation and amusement crawling down Victor’s spine. There was something almost insufferable about how naturally confident the man was, as if the world itself simply bend in his favor. Victor stood there, motionlessly as he study the man across him, stubbing out the cigar before walking to him closer and halting just inches away from the towering man. Victor’s breathing is steady and precise as he regarded the situation in silence for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and monotone, measured like a clinical assessment rather than a personal decision. “One auction should not pose any risk. I suppose I could take part” with a distant stare, he walked back toward his car. For once, he was not wearing his mechanical goggles, having set them aside in preparation to appear more formal for the event. Zeno had gestured Victor to follow their car, adn the driver, years of loyal service already accustomed to Victor’s habits, understood the cue immediately without needing further instruction.

They arrived at a secluded yet grand estate  far from the city. Tall rows of pine trees lined the long driveway, stretching deep into the grounds like a quiet corridor of wealth and privacy. The parking area was already filled with luxury cars, each one polished and expensive, hinting at the caliber of guests gathered inside. Zeno and Victor stepped out of their car and met at the entrance. This wasn’t an ordinary auction — and they both knew it. People here weren’t just wealthy; they were powerful people, the kind that dealt in things far beyond public views. After all, money that big doesn't come clean. 

The lobby was packed with powerful, wealthy people — businessmen in tailored suits, quiet finannciers speaking in low tones, political figures keeping their identities hidden behind composed expressions, and collectors whose eyes lingered too long on anything valuable. The air carried a heavy mix of expensive perfumes, cigar smoke and unspoken tensions. As conversation stayed polite on the surface but felt calculated underneath. Each of these men had someone trailing just behind them like a puppy, young companions, assistants or carefully chosen company. Some were drawn in by luxury they could never sustain on their own, others bound by debts, favors or opportunities they couldn’t afford to lose. In this place, even company felt like a transaction and nothing was entirely without cost.

Zeno softly snudged Victor and pointed at the young woman with angelic and innocent features trailing a man in a suit. Zeno snickered at the sight of this poor young woman before speaking, “How pathetic. Imagine ending up like that just because you couldn’t even manage your rent.” before lighting up another cigar, as if it alone could satisfy his cravings. Victor  observed the young woman with clinical detachment. He had always wondered why he never felt the so called love people always spoke about. Ever since the virus outbreak in Raccoon City, everything had spiraled downward. He had been infected and in a desperate attempt to survive, he injected himself with the Nemesis-γ parasite. It was pure desperation; he could not die like that, not when everything he had built was still unfinished — his legacy, his hard earned position, the years he clawed his way upward, his projects…all of it. What was he thinking? That kind of companionship wasn’t love, it was a transaction, a quiet exchange where both sides gained something from the other. But, dear god, he longed for companionship after years of solitude.

Zeno had noticed Victor’s distant observation, his tall physique standing motionless yet still standing out in the crowd. He reached over and tapped Victor on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Need a companion?” Victor turned his head toward him with a serious expression. “There’s plenty of young women later, Victor. Endless choices you could pick from.” He leaned in slightly as he spoke, his voice lacing with a teasing tone, a mocking smile forming at the edge of his lips. Victor pushed Zeno gently away before turning and walking toward the room where the auction would be held. His heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, each step deliberate and unhurried. “I have no interest in such…temporary gratification. It is not clinically necessary for me, and I have more important matters to attend to.” Each word was laced with lies as they both took their seats in the exclusive section, reserved only for people of their standing. As they waited, a man in a suit enthusiastically walked through the room, greeting everyone with practiced politeness. Before the auction began, a pre-auction ceremony would take place.

VVV

The room was filled with a suffocating stench of grime and damp clothing, clinging heavily in the air and slithering up your nose. You lay there, unmoving, afraid that any sign of resistance might provoke them and that they would grow agitated and hurt you. It’s been days, you don’t know how long you’ve been here. Your stomach ached with hunger and your throat was dry, your tongue slowly beginning to parch from dehydration. You began to think you might die any moment soon. Just as you could feel your strength began to fade and your consciousness slowly slipping into nothingness, the sound of a door opening cut through the haze. Footsteps followed. Then the faint clink of a plate being set down. For a brief, desperate moment, hope surged through you . Just the sound alone felt like a reward. You were being fed, finally.

The man removed the cloth covering your eyes, he placed the plate down in front of you. Slowly, he scooped up a spoonful of soup and brought it to your lips, feeding you with such care and gentle movements. There was an unexpected gentleness in his actions, almost out of place for someone who had taken you forcefully in the first place. You looked around cautiously, your eyes inspecting every corner of the dim room. The only source of light came from a dull bulb flickering every minute hanging from the ceiling, casting a weka fluorescent glow over the darkness.

He noticed your frantic gaze scanning the room. Quietly, he placed the spoon back onto the plate before reaching into the backpack he carried. From it he pulled out a neatly folded set of clothes, a fresh washed shirt and pair of pants. After he fed you, he led you to a run down bathroom without uttering a single word. He closed the door after leaving you alone in the room. The moment the lock clicked shut, thoughts of escaping came rushing into your mind. You frantically searched for any possible exit, your eyes darting around the cramped bathroom, but there was no windows — nothing but a stained walls and almost wrecked door separating you from the outside. Beneath the gap of the door, you could still see the man’s silhouette standing there, as if waiting for you to finish whatever he wants you to do.

“Hurry up and clean yourself. I don’t have much time,” he said from the outside, his tone lacing with demand and calm but firm tone. “The auction begins in four hours and we still have a long drive ahead us.” He informed you calmly but you could feel his patience growing thinner by minute. He’s deadass selling you, unbelievable, you to the city hoping for a change, never knowing this was the kind of fate awaiting you instead. Thoughts came flooding your mind once again, each one heavier than the last. You wanted nothing more than to break down and disappear. You longed for the comfort of someone’s arms around you in moments like this, for someone to cradle you and tell you everything would be alright. But as the thought lingered in your mind, another painful question followed — will anyone ever come to save you?

As the thoughts came ambushing you, tormenting you, breaking you apart into pieces. A sudden loud bang against the door echoed throughout the room, sending another heart pounding fear and shivers down your spine. “What the fuck are you doing? I said hurry up” A bloodcurling yell from the outside, the walls tremble along with his screams. Fear shot down your spine instantly. You hurriedly washed yourself, hands shaking as you moved faster, able to sense his patience wearing dangerously thin. “We are running out of time bitch” He barked from the outside. “I’ve been patient with you, so don’t push it.” that sentence is enough to remind you who’s in charge and you have no idea what he’s capable of, that idea alone scares you.

After a quick minute, you slowly opened the door and were met by the man, his face tight with anger and impatience. You kept your gaze lowered, but he abruptly grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. He towered over you, his imposing presence filling the narrow space, making his frustration feel even more suffocation. Your eyes wide open at the sudden impact of his fist in your cheeks, he hit you. You fell to the floor, instinctively cupping your cheeks as you tried to ease the growing burning pain. Before you could fully comprehend what’s happening, he grabbed you by the hair and dragged you out of the room, pulling you toward the car waiting just outside the establishment and threw you behind the driver’s seat. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, or you're dead.” Firm and calm but you know he’s deadass. He tied your hands and feet before they drove away.

VVV

After a long boring pre-auction ceremony, the auction finally began. Victor, who had been leaning back in his chair, suddenly straightened, his posture shifting with a clinical focus as the first item was presented. First item wasn’t to Victor’s taste or interest, just a set of high end art pieces. The second item featured rare antiques and artifacts, which quickly drew attention as the wealthy men bid with ridiculous prices. The third item was a woman dressed in revealing garments, fear and confusion etched on her face as several men immediately began competing to bid for her. Still, Victor showed no interest in any of the items presented. As the auction goes by, items being sold gradually became more disturbing and inhumane. By the thirty fourth item, another young woman was brought out. Her delicate facial features looked oddly familiar, and she was dressed in a costume — a bunny outfit. 

Victor leaned in slightly, trying to get a closer look. Zeno noticed the sudden changes in his movement, “Interested, eh? You should bid on her,” he said confidently, “She looked familiar…I think I've met this woman before,” Victor replied in a quieter and hesitant tone. He stared closely and intently at the crying young lady, adn in that moment, everything clicked. She was the same girl from the cafe. Victor’s eyes widened slightly, a rare break in his usual composure. He couldn’t believe this was how he would encounter her again.

“Five thousand dollars!” A man from behind shouted as the bidding began. Victor abruptly turned around to see who had made an offer, his gaze briefly sharpening toward the bidder. Without hesitation, he raised the stakes. “Five thousand six hundred,” Victor said. As the auctioneer asked who would go higher, another man quickly raised the stakes. “Five thousand seven hundred!” Victor’s irritation flickered, and he raised his bid even further. Zeno let out a soft chuckle as he watched the usually composed doctor fixated on the young woman being sold. “Determined to get this one, Victor?” Victor ignored the remark, his focus fixed entirely on securing her.

VVV

As the car drove away deeper out of the city toward a secluded area, you slowly drifted toward slumber. You tried your best to stay awake, determined to memorize the route the vehicle was taking as it passed through unfamiliar roads. Hours later, you had been woken up by the man. Frantic and confused, you found yourself dressed in a provocative bunny suit. Watching the man leave with a suitcase containing wads of cash, he handed you to another group of men dressed in opulent suits. They dragged you forcefully forwards into a line of frightened and weeping individuals; young women and men dressed differently themed outifts according to their features, a serpent, cat, dogs and bunny — each one looked just as disoriented and exhausted as you. The reality of the situation settled heavily. This wasn’t just an auction of objects, but something far more disturbing in intent.

You wanted to cry, but you knew it was useless now. All you could do was stand there, waiting for your turn. Just as the thirty third young man was taken away, the suited attendant dragged you onto the stage and shoved you into the center. In an instant, dozens of eyes locked onto you from the crowd above, eyes predatory,cold and unsettlingly intense, as if you were the next item to be sold rather than a person standing there.

You started to sob uncontrollably as you gave yourself a tight embrace, comforting yourself. Your eyes desperately looking around, scanning the crowd for anything familiar. Then your gaze landed on a familiar face. His towering, boulder-like figure stood out immediately among the others. There was something about him, you had definitely seen him before. That's when it clicked, it’s the doctor from the cafe but you think your eyes are playing tricks on you, you weren’t sure if it's actually him. You felt a temporary relief just by the sight of him, you wanted to ask him for help and get you out of this hell.

You watched him thoroughly through your teary eyes, trying to make sense of what you were seeing — he was bidding on you too, just like everyone else. A sick heaviness settled in your chest, leaving you exhausted and numb. What were you expecting? You are just an item to them. 

Around you, the bids kept rising each higher than the last, as if your worth could somehow be measured and made comforting by numbers alone. But what caught your attention was the doctor, he seemed too determined to bid on you. You wanted to lie to yourself, that he will save you from this inhumane auction. 

“Six thousand dollars! Going once?” the auctioneer enthusiastically called out. “Going twice?” Your surroundings began to swirl and blur around you, suddenly you felt your head growing light and unsteady. “Sold! To Mr. Victor Gideon!” Polite applause filled the entire room, the clapping deafening as if you were some kind of trophy won by these men. “Victor…Gideon?” you repeated silently in your mind, tasting it, the name sounds very familiar. Then it hit you.You were certain of it now. It was him — Gideon, the Doctor from Rhodes Hill Center.

Chapter Text

VVV

The afternoon went along excruciatingly slowly. As soon as your bidding was performed, the man in the suit yanked you off with deliberate force off the platform. You glanced back to look behind you, Victor was staring at you with a stone cold stare, and his eyes followed you as you vanished behind the big curtains. You were blindfolded once again, hands were tightly bound from behind and you were still wearing the bunny costume. The man hoisted you up and placed you inside what seemed to be a huge box — or maybe a cage, you couldn't tell. ‘Lucky bitch, a prestigious bachelor, a well known surgeon took a liking to you,“ One of the men snickered to another. You could hear the amusement dripping from his voice as he carefully lowered you into the large box, handling you with unexpected gentleness, not out of kindness, but damaging a valuable item would surely cost him his head. The cramped space creaked beneath your weight while the men continued laughing amongst themselves, as if your fear was nothing more than entertainment.

Victor bought you… and you couldn’t tell if you should feel safe, relieved or worried. Of all the people in that room, he was the one who chose you. Yet the question remained, why?

You didn’t know what his intentions were, nor why someone like Victor Gideon would involve himself in something so disturbing. It didn’t make sense. A respected doctor, a prestigious bachelor admired by many…what could a man like him possibly want from you? 

And above all else, why was he even there?

At last, the man finally placed the lid over the box, shutting you inside completely. Small holes were drilled into it, allowing you just enough air for you to breathe.

VVV

Zeno turned his head comically slow towards Victor, taking a slow puff from his cigar as the young woman disappeared from sight. His sharp golden eyes lingered on the doctor, noticing Victor’s gaze remained fixed on where she had been moments ago. Silence stretched between them as Zeno stared intently at him, waiting for Victor to finally snap back to reality.

“She’s the young woman I met at the cafe a few days ago,” Victor calmly said, his gaze never leaving the large curtain. “Is she that important?” Zeno asked, his tone edged with seriousness. “No,” Victor answered instantly, leaning back into his chair without shifting his attention from the curtain. “It’s just… I may require her for certain aspects of my work,” Victor said evenly. “She could be useful for one of my ongoing experiments.” Zeno let out a short, amused snort. “Work? You sure it’s just work, Victor?” he teased, giving Victor a light pat on the back. 

The gesture immediately drew a reaction. Irritation flickered across Victor’s face as he shot Zeno a sharp, warning glare. Zeno raised both hands in mock surrender, a confident smile tugging at his lips as he leaned back slightly. “Jeez, I’m just messing with you. Doctor,” he said lightly. “Come on, we’re grown men now, we are not kids anymore, Victor. So tell me — why did you do it?” Victor hesitated for a brief moment, a flicker of irritation clawing in his chest. “I’ve already told you, Zeno,” he said at last, his voice lower and more controlled. “”There’s nothing else to it. It’s simple work…nothing more than that.” Zeno raised his eyebrows, studying Victor for a brief second longer before turning his attention back to the auction. “Alright,” he said with a light shrug, his tone casual now but still laced with curiosity. “If that's what you say.”

Hours passed, and the auction had already come to an end. Guests began to rise from their seats, smoothing out their sumptuous clothes and preparing to leave. One by one, they made their way toward the parking lot, each escorted by men in suits carefully carrying their "valuable items” items — or is it? delivering them to their new owners.

Victor and Zeno stood by their respective cars, waiting in silence. After a moment, men in suits approached from behind, carefully carrying a large gift box. It was wrapped with deep crimson ribbons, tightly laced around its surface, while the box was coated in a dark, almost black shade that made it look even more imposing under the dim light.

Victor’s breath hitched at the sight of it, a quiet surge of excitement bubbling inside his chest but he remained motionless and unmoving, almost perfectly still. His eyes locked on the men as they steadily approached, carrying the box closer with deliberate care. The moment the men in suits gently placed the box inside his car, Victor followed without a word, sliding into the seat behind the driver. Soon after, the vehicle pulled away, carrying them back toward his residence. As they drove, Zeno called him, his boice bright with satisfaction as he proudly showed off the items he had purchased. 

As the car moved quietly through the road, Victor’s eyes drifted down to the box beside him on the floor. It trembled faintly, small uneven shakes disturbing its stillness. From inside, a soft sound of muffled sobbing could be heard, barely breaking through the sealed walls. Victor shifted slightly in his seat. Beneath his calm exterior, a quiet excitement stirred at the thought of the new “company” he had been longing for; something he had long kept hidden, even from himself.

VVV

You lay there, barely moving, feeling the vibration of an engine beneath you. The realization sank in, you were inside a moving vehicle. More accurately, you are being delivered somewhere more like in his place. Panic rose instantly, and your breath broke into quiet sobs as the reality set in. Somewhere in that same car, Victor was there too. You could feel it, even without seeing him. Your arms throbbed into numbness, as exhaustion slowly creeping in after being bound for so long. Each small movement sent a dull ache through your limbs, leaving you weak and trapped in the tight suffocation space.

The breeze was cool. Almost painfully frigid, as if the wintry atmosphere is drilling to your bone.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in the car. Instead, you found yourself in a cold, sterile room lined with dull white tiles that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. Everything around you was white, even the clothes you wore at the auction, a thin revealing bunny outfit that offered no comfort and protection from the biting cold, leaving you shivering pitifully. 

There was no windows. No visible doors. Only a single bed placed neatly in the left corner, as if the room had been made for isolation rather than comfort.

Barefoot, you moved cautiously, each step soft against the freezing floor. You explored slowly, hugging yourself as your body trembled from the cold, trying to make sense of your whereabouts, or why everything felt so real. 

Minutes passed. Slowly, warmth began to spread through your body out of nowhere, It was strange and unexpected, almost unnatural in a place so cold. You looked around, searching for the source of the heat, but there was nothing. No heater, no light, no visible reason of the sudden change. 

You gaze drifted forward again, toward the never ending white walls stretching into the void, as if the room itself had no end…and no escape.

VVV

After hours of deafening silence during the drive, they finally arrived at Victor’s manor , a towering and overwhelming estate with an old-fashioned design that loomed in the night like something untouched by time. Victor stepped out first, motioning for his servants to carefully carry the box and follow him. Without a word, he led the way inside. They moved through the grand interior and descended toward the basement, though it hardly resembled one. It was too refined, too extravagant, more like an extension of the manor’s wealth than a hidden lower level.

They passed rows of doors and an unnervingly long and never ending hallway before finally reaching a secluded room tucked away from the rest of the estate. They carefully placed the box inside the room. The room was designed with unsettling elegance, high class furniture neatly arranged as if it had been prepared in advance. A polished cabinet stood against one wall the same height as him, a bed set neatly in the corner, and a study table sat beneath soft lighting that gave the room a quiet and controlled atmosphere. Even a small bathroom was attached, completing the unsettling sense that this was no ordinary storage space but a fully prepared living quarters. Did I mention that all the furniture is inhumanely huge?

Victor gestured to all the men to leave the room in an instant as he locked the door. The moment the door closed, the silence thickened. Leaving him alone with the box. He didn’t move at first. Just stared. Then, slowly, he approached and untied the ribbons with steady hands. The lid lifted with a soft creak. Inside, the young woman lay unconscious, her condition evidence of how tightly she had been restrained for too long. Victors expression didn’t waver. He exhaled softly, almost inaudible, his eyes fixed on her as if confirming something only he could understand,

“Yess.” he murmured at last, the word drawn out into a faint hiss, long, controlled and satisfied.

He hoisted you up carefully, your body going ragdoll as he placed you gently on the bed. The mattress creaked softly under your weight, sinking slightly as you settled into the softness. With careful hands, he untied your restraints and removed your blindfold, the sudden absence of pressure and darkness leaving you comfortable and satisfied for a moment.He pulled a warm blanket up to your shoulders, tucking it in with a careful precision. For a moment, he simply watched your chest rising and falling in slow and inconsistent breaths as exhaustion pulled you deeper into sleep. Minutes of intense staring he finally turned around and walked out of the room, glancing back once more before locking the door behind him.

VVV

Rhodes Hill Center | Midnight

Rain came pouring down heavily, dark clouds gathered above the center, thunder roaring along the clouds, swallowing what little light remained of the evening. The pavement gradually grew slippery and soaked, water spreading across the streets shallow ripples that reflected the glow of the lamps above. Vintage-style lamp posts flickered on one by one, their warm light scattering across the wet ground like broken golds. Victor stepped out of his vintage car, allowing the rain to soak his trench coat as he walked with deliberate steps toward the lobby. Staff scattered around the center, each busy with their own task and work. Victor quietly walked to his office, opening the door with a quiet click. Stepping inside, he made his way toward the lab coat hanging by his desk, its snakeskin-patterned design tailored perfectly to his massive frame.

After changing into his uniform, he strode toward the laboratory where a patient awaited alongside several nurses. “Good evening Doctor Gideon.” A nurse greeted him with a soft smile, as she handed him a clipboard with the patient’s information. Victor glanced through the papers briefly before placing them aside. The patient already laid on the operating table while nurses prepared the necessary tools around him. Victor slipped on his gloves and stepped closer. 

“Scalpel,” he said calmly, holding out his hand. The nurse quickly handed him the instrument, and without wasting another second, Victor began the surgery with steady precision. As the scalpel sank deeper into the patient’s skin, Victor’s thoughts slowly drifted elsewhere. Without realizing it, his mind wandered back to you. For a brief moment, the patient’s face seemed to blur beneath the harsh surgical lights — slowly replaced by yours in his imagination.

Your features carved with delicate precision, beautifully refined features and soft innocent face occupied Victor’s thoughts without warning. Mid-surgery, his movements slowed. The scalpel paused briefly above the incision as he exhaled through his nose, controlling himself. He couldn’t afford distraction like this. Not here. Not now.

With a quiet discipline, he forced the thought aside, tightening his focus back onto the procedure. Whatever this was, it could wait.

VVV

The soft and warm blanket embracing your bruised body, gradually you woke up from the heavy slumber. You looked around, confused and scared. The room looked magnificent. Its walls were painted in deep crimson, decorated with intricate patterns that carried a district Victorian influence. A black and red carpet stretched across the floor, softening every step you took. What caught your attention most was the bed. It was enormous, at least four times your size, dominating the space like a centerpiece meant to overwhelm.

You began to explore slowly, your fingers lightly tracing the edges of each piece of furniture. Everything felt larger than life, as if you had stepped into a world where giants live. For a moment, it reminded you of Alice in Wonderland; small, lost and surrounded by something grand and unfamiliar. And yet, despite all its beauty, one detail remained unsettlingly constand — there was still no window. 

You slowly walked toward the huge cabinet, gripping the handle and pulling with all your strength. As you did, your mind briefly drifted to curiosity and wonder, Did he prepare all this for me? Instinctively, you start imagining fancy clothes awaiting you. Unhurriedly, you peeked inside, only to find a few empty hangers neatly hanging inside. Sike, you thought. A quiet disappointment settled in as you closed it again. Turning away, you strode toward the large study desk. A few books and pens were arranged with careful precision on its surface, as if everything had been placed there with intention.

You placed your index finger against the mahogany desk. tracing the intricate carvings etched on the surface. Every curve and pattern speaks with quiet wealth and history of how he made it to this kind of lifestyle. Your gaze drifted toward the massive chair behind it, upholstered in deep crimson fabric that matched the room's dark Victorian-inspired theme. 

Carefully, you lowered yourself in the seat. The cushions embedded on the mahogany chair shrieked beneath your weight, soft as a cloud enough to make you sink slightly in it. It was far more comfortable than anything you had ever sat in before. As you settled in, your eyes wandered across the neatly arranged items on the desk. 

Curiosity got the better of you. Reaching forward, you picked up one of the books resting in the piles of books. The leather cover was smooth beneath your fingertips, its edges worn out with history. Across the front, embossed an elegant golden letters, were the words are:

“The evolution of human kind from the T-virus” by Dr. Victor Gideon and Dr. Eli Masha etc. 

You traced Victor’s name on the cover, feeling the raised golden beneath your fingertips. The book looked expensive, just like everything else in the room. Looking around, you noticed that all the books were neatly arranged on the desk were written by Victor Gideon himself. Shelf after shelf was filled with his work, each one containing years of research and knowledge. Out of boredom, you opened the book and started reading. One book turned into another as your curiosity grew. You found yourself wondering what kind of thoughts filled the mind of the man who had written all of these.

“This must've taken him years to write,” you pondered to yourself. Completely absorbed in Victor’s work, you lost track of how much time had passed. Page after page, book after book, you found yourself drawn into the world he had built through his research and discoveries. A thought suddenly came crashing in your mind. Would your parents finally be proud of you if you were able to write books like these? Books that contributed something to the world. Not the fantasy stories you loved writing; the same stories they always hated as childish and useless. As you flipped through another page, something slipped from between the sheets. A photo.

You picked it up and examined it closely. The picture showed a young woman with silver blonde hair. She looked delicate, almost fragile, yet undeniably beautiful. Judging by her appearance, she looked like she’s just in her twenties. Curiosity stirred within you. What connection did she have to Victor? She couldn’t be his lover. No, there’s no way she could be. You quickly shook the thought away, though a strange feeling lingered in your chest. Was it jealousy? You weren’t sure. It made no sense for you to feel that way, especially toward a man you had barely met. 

With a sigh, you closed the book and set it aside. The feeling didn’t last long. Looking around the luxurious room, you mood quickly improved. A grin spread across your face as you began wandering across the spacious room, spinning around once in excitement. In your mind, you began building all sorts of ridiculous fantasies. Maybe Victor had prepared all of this for you. Maybe he wanted to give you a better life — stupid. Maybe, for once, luck had finally chosen your side.

You couldn’t believe it. Even after two lifetimes, you could never have afforded a room like this. Still caught up in your thoughts, you suddenly heard the doorknob rattle. Your smile vanished. Thats probably him. A wave of nervousness crept in your chest. Slowly, you backed away until your shoulders touched the wall beside the bed. The doorknob rattle again before a sharp click echoed through the room. The door was unlocked. It slowly creaked open, leaving only a small gap. The hallway beyond was dark, making it impossible to see who stood outside. Then you noticed it. A bright red dot hovering above the doorway.

“Ah, you're already awake,” a familiar velvety and smooth voice echoed behind the door. “W-who are you?” you know damn well who it was, but you wanted to hear him say it. “We’ve met twice before. There’s no need to be afraid” His voice was reassuring, but after everything happened at the auction, at the dark hallway, and in that scary abandoned building where you were kept hostage, you refused to lower your guard. Sensing your unease, Victor slowly pushed the door open. His tall figure filled the doorway. “May I come in?” The politeness caught you off guard. After a moment, you gave a small nod.

Victor stepped inside, carrying a stack of clothes and socks. Dressed in a simple fitted shirt made from clearly expensive material, he walked over to the bed and carefully placed the clothes down. Noticing your confusion, he tilted his head. His eyes drifted toward the books left open on the desk, a small smile appearing on his face. “Oh dear, so you’ve read my works.” He clicked his tongue as he thought for a moment. “I worked for Umbrella back in 1998 as a researcher. I was fortunate enough to be assigned to the Tyrant Project in Raccoon City before its destruction.” The pride lacing in his voice was impossible to ignore.

“It was an honor. Those projects were only given to selected researchers…people like me.”

 Still smiling, he approached and gently rested a hand on your head before moving toward the desk. “Spencer was a great man. Umbrella’s pride. He gave me a reason to keep going,” As he spoke, he closed the scattered books and returned each one neatly to its place.

“T-this room…” you interrupted, unable to keep the question to yourself any longer. “Did you do all of this for me? Is this room for me? You wanted some sort of validation, something that would make you feel special…for once. Instead, Victor let out a short snort, and laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t flatter yourself.” The words hit harder than they should have. Heat immediately rushed to your face as he turned to face you fully. “This is my private study room. My office, if you’d like to call it that.” His smile remained gentle, but now it felt almost mocking. Embarrassment settled heavily in your chest.

“Oh. Um, yeah, of course.” You awkwardly rubbed your arm. “I actually kind of figured that out. With all the oversized furniture and everything.” You forced out a nervous laugh. “Sorry for assuming.”

“I use this room for work. I can’t stand noise or distractions.” Victor paced around the room as if giving a tour. “Distractions lead to mistakes and mistakes lead to failure. I have several offices and study rooms where I conduct my research.” He turned to face you and approached with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes briefly examined your appearance, hands grazing on your bra straps hugging your shoulder, studying you with the same attention he gave everything else around him. You shifted uncomfortably as he stepped closer. Noticing your reaction, he tilted his head slightly, a faint smile spread across his face. “You have very delicate features,” he said thoughtfully. “Almost too fragile for a subject.”

Subject?

The word immediately caught your attention. Questions flooded your mind. What did he mean by that? Why did he keep referring to people that way? Will he perform surgery on you?

Before you could ask, Victor stepped back and turned away. “Change your clothes. I’ll meet you outside” His voice was calm but firm. “And be quick. I’m not a patient man.” With that, he left the room. A chill ran down your spine. Something about his tone made it clear he wasn’t joking, he’s deadass serious. Without wasting time, you picked up the clothes he had prepared for you. They weer simple blue cotton pajamas. Comfy and warm. Once changed, you carefully opened the door. Expecting to find Victor waiting outside, you were instead greeted by an empty, dimly lit hallway. Curious, you stepped out. The manor was far grander than you expected. Marble walls stretched along the corridor, while polished beige tiles covered the floor. As you cautiously walked forward, you passed several closed doors.

At the end of the hallway stood a large staircase leading upward. You slowly raised your foot to take the first step. “Did I give you permission to wander around?” Victor’s voice suddenly echoed through the hallway. You froze. A shiver ran through you as you quickly turned around. His silhouette stood farther down the corridor, partially swallowed by the dim lights. “I was looking for you,” you blurted out. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, he simply stared. Then he lifted a hand and motioned for you to come closer.

You walked toward him slowly and hesitantly. Victor remained still until you were close enough before turning around and leading you furher down the hallway. The corridor seemed to stretched endlessly. How far could this hallway go? Minutes passed before he finally stopped in front of a massive door. Without a word, he pushed it open. Your breath caught in your throat. The room was filled with medical equipment, surgical tools and several cadavers laid across steels tables. Several large pods lined the room, each containing what seems to be a human body suspended in a strange liquid. The fluid concealed most of their features, preserving them in an almost lifelike state. You slowly looked around the laboratory, taking in every unsettling detail. So absorbed in your surrounding, you didn’t noticed Victor standing nearby, silently watching your every reaction.

Chapter Text

VVV

As Victor entered the secret laboratory first, Y/n followed a few steps behind. His gaze fell upon her sparkling eyes. Her expression was readable; a mixture of awe and admiration. Victor couldn't help but let out a small smile at the sight of her. He always felt a sense of pride whenever someone admired his work, especially after all the years he had dedicated his life to science. She began wandering around the laboratory, though she never strayed too far from him. Curiosity, she examined the medical instrument neatly arranged on a nearby cart beside the operating table.

In the middle of her examining the area, she felt a presence behind her. The faint brush of his leather snake-skin coat grazed on her limb, making her realize just how close he was now. Victor stood only inches away, nearly enough to touch her back. She hastily turned around, only to be met by his chest. He was looming over her small frame. 

“You know I have been conducting unregistered experiments here,” he calmly admitted, his voice echoing through the sterile room. She slowly stepped back, putting some distance between them and giving each other space.

“Tons of rejected projects of mine,” He continued as he walked toward a bulletin board covered with photographs of different people lying motionless on operating tables, or more lifeless in accuracy. Before she could get a proper look, Victor swiftly removed the photographs from the board. He tucked them into a drawer and locked it shut, concealing them from her view. “Rejected?” She asked, her tone lacing with wariness as she slowly approached Victor, whose back was turned to her. “Yes,” he softly replied, not wanting to scare her away. “They claimed it violated human rights.” This time, he turned to face her. A long pause settled between them as he stared her down, his expression unreadable.

Victor scanned her face. He reached up, adjusting his goggles and twisted them to his third red lens. She obliviously tilted her head curiously as she watched him. Victor let out a soft chuckle, momentarily looking away before meeting her gaze once more. “My apologies,” he said. “I needed to switch lenses for a particular purpose.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he pressed a hidden button embedded behind his lens. A faint recording sound echoed through the quiet room. He stood there motionlessly, completely unconcerned with whether she noticed he was recording her or not.

VVV

You remained unmoving in your spot as Victor watched you with a strange smile etched on his face. Confusion and fear churned within you, your mind caught in a battle between fight or flight. Yet neither came. Instead, you froze. You saw Victor slowly tilt his head, still watching your reaction. After several moments of his agonizing stare, he finally clicked the button again. 

“Violated human rights? What kind of experiment have you been doing for them to stop you?” you asked. He looked you dead in the eyes, clicking his tongue as he searched for a way to explain it.

“It was a project: The Elpis. Zeno and I were working on it, trying to recreate my master’s…” He paused for a long moment before letting out an irritated sigh. “Well, she was the key Spencer mentioned. A key to unlocking Elpis.”

“Elpis? What’s Elpis?” You furrowed your brows, trying to comprehend what he meant. You wondered if it was something only researchers knew about.

“Elpis is… a powerful weapon that grants you powe—” He abruptly stopped, his gaze darting toward you. His jaw jutted forward as his face contorted with irritation and intimidation. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could feel that familiar sensation radiating from him. Were you asking too many questions? The thought crossed your mind.

“It’s something you don’t need to know.”

Then, he began walking toward you. You instinctively shut your eyes, you’re def not putting up a fight against this ginormous man. He can snap you to two like a twig if he wants to. Expecting him to harm you, but instead, he was caressing your cheeks gently. “Human reactions are fascinating,” he whispered, his voice calm and soft. “They always linger in that fragile space between instinct and reason — between the urge to flee and the instinct to resist.”

You slowly opened your eyes to find him bent down to your eye level, studying you closely. Gradually, he rose up with a loud grunt. He walked up to the operating table, motioning you to hop on. “What do you want me to do?” you nervously asked, wanting certainty; wanting to know he wouldn’t experiment on you too. “Your body carries untreated wounds,” he replied calmly as he adjusted his gloves, his tone clinical yet thoughtful. “Neglect allows even minor injuries to progress into complications that are far more difficult to treat.” You could hear the honesty in his voice, but you still felt wary of him. Victor noticed it. 

“There is no logical reason for fear,” he said calmly. “This is a controlled procedure meant to correct physical damage,” He lightly patted the operating table. “You will not be harmed”. His assurance was enough to calm you down and you willingly climbed onto the operating table. Switching on the bright operating lights, adjusting them toward your torso. Then he motioned for you to remove your top before starting the treatment. A slight embarrassment crept onto your face, but the desire to be treated was far more stronger than the humiliation. You nervously removed your top while Victor watched with clinical detachment.

A thought lingered in your mind — if he was still recording. 

Yes, he is.

You gently lay down as Victor approached you. The cold steel of the table pressed against your skin as he began scanning your body. There were several open wounds and bruises across your chest, partially hidden by your undergarments. He cut your bra with the scalpel and set it aside on the cart. You felt your face grew hotter with embarrassment, but you reassured yourself; he was a doctor. He knew better.

You shut your eyes as he performed the treatment. “There’s no room for embarrassment here, sweetheart.” His smooth tone calmed you for a moment. He turned his back on you momentarily before returning with a syringe — possibly an anesthetic. He hovered it over your arm before he could inject it. But you grabbed his hand at the speed of light. “Wait,” you yelled frantically at him. He looked at you, confused. “C-can we not use that?” you asked nervously. “I can stay awake during the treatment.” You didn’t fully trust him with your unconscious body. You didn’t know why…Or were you? Especially since he seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t do such things; but the worry still lingered. 

“Is there something wrong?” he softly asked, concern lacing in his tone. “I just don’t like syringes,” you whispered, trying to play it cool and not wanting to offend the Doctor. “But anesthetic is necessary,” he said, as if explaining a simple fact. “Without it, you might flinch or move, which could make the treatment more difficult. With anesthetic I can ensure a more accurate procedure,” he stated. You shook your head, resisting his insistence. You tried to push away his hand holding the syringe, afraid to trust him alone with you in this laboratory. You could see his patience hanging by a thin thread, but your fear was stronger.

“Sweety, this is for you,” he raises his voice slightly that gradually lowers as he speaks, annoyance barely contained beneath his tone. “Without anesthetic, your body may respond with shock, which would compromise the procedure and put you at necessary risk.” You tried to sit up, but his strong hands immediately pressed you back to the steel table. “Stay still!” He snapped, teeth clenched in frustration, his restraint thinning by the second. You both struggled — as he kept holding you down to keep you in place while you kept trying to pull away from him. The sterile room filled with the sound of his strained breathing and your panicked cries.

“I don’t trust you!” you burst out, breath heaving with fear and panic. “This isn’t about trust,” he said between his gritted teeth, forcing calm into his tone. “I’ve already invested too much time and resources on you for this to fail now.” you pushed his chest away from you. “Uncontrolled movement compromises precision. I cannot treat you safely under these conditions!” He grabbed you by your neck, cutting your airflow as he lifted you with ease in the air. You desperately clawing on his arms. His hold tightened just enough to keep you from moving again, his frustration visible but contained. “And if this continues, you increase the risk of infection or complications that are entirely preventable”. You looked at him, your eyes wide in shock. His goggles were nowhere to be seen, probably fallen during your struggles, unnoticed by either of you.

His eyes were filled with irritation and restrained anger. But what struck you most was that  they looked inhuman: his irises were a sharp golden yellow, while his sclera were pitch black. You quieted down, fear rising up as you wondered what he might do next, if he couldn’t control his temper no more. When he noticed you beginning to calm, he carefully guided you back to the table. You followed this time, laying down voluntarily. “There you go,” he whispers softly, a faint smile appearing on his face. “Atta girl,” His pupils were noticeably more dilated now, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling focus.

He picked up his goggles and slipped them back on. Then he reached for a scalpel, his movements were slow and heavy. He looked at you as he stepped closer. This time, he did not reach for the general anesthetic. “You don’t like anesthetics?” he asked softly, his voice almost conversational and lacing with cold sarcasm. His index finger traced lightly along the wounds on your chest as he examined it. “Then we proceed without it,” he continued, his tone was serious and clinical. “Let’s see if you can handle the pain.” He lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes directly; cold and firm. “If you move…I’ll break your legs. Since you kept insisting you don’t need general anesthetic.” Victor had been trying his best to be patient with you...but you keep pushing him past his limits.

You felt a shiver creeping up your spine. You definitely regret fighting him, you had no idea what you had just put yourself into. With a painful gulp, you closed your eyes shut. He pressed the scalpel into the closed wounds which were dripping with deep purple and white colors, indicating that the wound had become infected. You grimace in pain and refrain yourself from moving scared that he’ll actually break your legs. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as he shoved the knife deeper into your flesh. He began to carefully drain the exudate, cleaning the infected areas with a sterile gauze and antiseptic solution. His movements are careful as his eyes remained focused on the wounds while glancing at your face, each step careful as he worked to reduce the risk of infection.

Using clean tissues and medical tools, he gently debrided and prepared each wound before closing them with precise sutures. You closed your fist into balls, biting your lips preventing yourself from making noises. Tears slowly stream down your cheeks one by one, as the pain becomes more unbearable each minute. He repeated the process methodically, moving from one injury to the next without rushing, his focus never wavering. Between each step, he checked the condition of the tissue, ensuring proper alignment and minimizing further trauma as he continued the treatment across the remaining wounds.

As he placed the used gauzes in the trash can nearby, a quiet sob slipped past your lips before you could contain it. Your breathing had turned uneven, your body began to tremble under the procedure without general anesthesia. Despite your effort to stay still, small tremors betrayed how difficult it was to endure. From quiet sobbing to crying, your fingers grow cold as you tremble uncontrollably from the pain. Victor stood there, watching as his new subject trembled from the intense pain. He snickered at your reaction, as he slowly walked towards you raising his hands to cup your cheeks once again while wiping your tears that were streaming down your face. The once cold, sterile room became even more frigid, almost freezing, followed by Victor’s cold and smooth voice echoing through the thin air.“Hush now y/n, you wanted this, didn’t you?” his tone was lacing with mockery, almost like he’s enjoying the sight of you suffering. But it was your fault, you refused his insistence in using anesthetic when all he wanted was to help. 

You gradually opened your eyes, the surrounding blurring instantly, tears clinging on your eyelashes. A gentle smile spread across his face. “I only wanted to help,” he whispered, his thumbs grazed your trembling lips as he watched you. The only sounds in the room were the steady hum of the air conditioner and your trembling sobs, both deafening in the suffocating silence. As minutes passed, he lowered his head slightly to your face, eyes fixed on your tear filled ones. The scent of alcohol mixed with unfamiliar chemicals lingered on his breath. He gave you a peck in the lips before parting away to watch your reaction, you placed your hands on his shoulders. 

“I was just…scared.” you finally admitted, voice shaking with fear as your fingers tightened around his coat. “I know,” he caressed your cheeks once more as he whispered. “There’s no reason for you to fear me… I only wanted to treat your wounds, that’s all.” His expression softens as he reassures you one more time. Removing his goggles, he set them aside so he could see you more clearly. Without the tinted lenses hiding them, his eyes seemed even more unnatural up close. His pupils were heavily dilated at the sight of you, nearly swallowing the yellow of his irises, yet his gaze never left yours.

Gradually, he lowered his head once more, meeting your lips. His lips and teeth came crashing to yours, aggressive and hungry as he began tasting you. You gasp between your kissing. You pressed your hands against him and tried to push Victor away, drawing in shaky breaths as you struggled to distance yourself.

This is wrong. 

Your mind was once caught again in a battle between fight and flight. Yet beneath the growing fear, something else lingered…something unfamiliar and impossible to ignore. A gentle warmth blossomed in your abdomen before it began crawling to your chest, while a peculiar sensation fluttered stirred deep within your stomach. As if butterflies seemed to awaken in your there, their wings stirring emotions you could neither name or suppress. Never before had you experienced such a bewildering feeling…not even when you had your first boyfriend.

His lips were dry and unnaturally frigid, as if death itself lingered deep inside his pale flesh. The monstrous man in front of you was surprisingly gentle despite his intimidating stature. There was a carefulness in every movement, as if he feared that even the slightest misstep might frighten you away. Yet oblivious, his gentle touches were almost a pain for you. Victor’s hand moved to your hips, his freezing fingers burning in your bare and soft skin. His hands are exploring every inch of you, studying each corner, scars, and veins. You seem to be a living work of art in his eyes — a perfect… an ideal subject for his ongoing, unending project. A project designed to convince himself that he is not a failure.

As he explored you like a specimen, you groaned beneath his gentle yet impetuous hands. He brought his head down to your neck, licked and kissed you violently, as though he was deprived of affection and never done anything like this before. You arched your back at the sensation of his warm tongue trailing on your neck, finally something that proves he is indeed alive. Grunting, you grasped his hair and yanked him closer. Victor’s lips curled faintly into a frown as he pulled you even nearer, leaving barely any space between you. The once frigid room drastically turned the atmosphere intimate and warm. Not a single word echoed through the room, only lewd kissing and wet sounds. Caught you off guard, he moved without a warning. Climbing on the operating table on top of you, the table creaked under his weight without parting his lips on your soft and slightly lacerated skin. 

“You are so beautiful, Y/n. ” He grunted as he hastily removed his coat, you stared at his towering figure, fingertips tracing the scars in his arms as if you’re in a trance. The world around you slowly began to fade as his attention remained fixed on you, he cornered you beneath him with his two massive legs. He placed his both hands to steady you in place, tilting his head while smiling at you. He no longer appears terrifying this time, but his eyes seem to have softened into something loving, as if you’ve been bewitched. Victor gently took your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing them softly. 

You slowly began to break, lowering your guard and softening the walls you built around your heart. You swore you saw your surroundings beginning to blur, everything fading into nothingness. Until only Victor remained — his soft eyes holding yours. Suddenly, Victor's expression shifted drastically, changing from confusion to seriousness, then to fear. He abruptly climbed back down from the operating table, retrieved his coat and turned his back on you without a word. You sat up, staring at him in confusion at his sudden change in demeanor. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

Victor didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked back to the nearby cart and retrieved his goggles, still not facing you. “Nothing is wrong,” he replied before finally facing you. “Emotion is a variable best kept separate from observation,” he whispered before turning away from you as he walked to the door, “It won’t happen again,” and just like that, he left you all by yourself. You stared at the sterile door, waiting if he’ll come back — but he never did.

The deafening hum of the air conditioner filled the now silent room. His touch lingered like a phantom against your freezing skin. Languidly, you lifted your fingertips to your slightly bruised lips, grazing them as if trying to feel his lips again. After a few minutes of reminiscing his touch, you snapped back to reality. You climbed down to retrieve your clothes laying on the floor and hastily put them on before walking towards the door. You slowly peeked between the gaps of the door, anticipating him outside waiting for you. Yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Only an empty dim lit hallway.

Everything felt like a reverie, the day unfolding like something written in a book you used to read. You could hardly believe what had happened, especially on your first day in his home. You tiptoed down the hallway, wandering mindlessly, unsure what to do next. You appear untethered from reality now, as if everything that happened slowly pulled you out of it. You lifted your hand to a nearby marble wall, brushing it against the intricate patterns carefully carved, admiring its perfect craftsmanship. Looking for your room, you quietly strode across the dimly litted hallway.

That's when you suddenly felt familiar with the path, and in haste, you tiptoed toward a nearby door with a sign that read:

‘Director’s Office.’

Seeing this brought confusion to your hollow mind. Why would he need to put a sign on this door when the room is located deep within his home? Shrugging the thought, you pushed the door opened. 

As you stepped inside, a sheet of paper immediately caught your attention. Resting atop of Victor’s desk was a note, it seems like it has been deliberately left for you. Curiosity stirred within you as you quickly crossed the room, reaching for the paper and picking it up.

VVV

Victor fled the room in haste, avoiding any further contact with Y/n. Everything had become a mess. How could he allow his emotions to interfere? He knew better than anyone that sentiment had a way of distorting perception. Yet despite all his discipline, he found himself dwelling on a moment that should have meant nothing. Or was it because it had been years since he had felt the affection he once craved, an affection he had long ago set aside for the sake of his master. Though he changed, his appearance was no longer that the man he once was. What stared back from the mirror now seemed more monster than human. A creature like him had no place yearning for affection. He could not allow those emotions to awaken again.

But he saw something in her eyes that he had never seen in anyone else. A soft and alluring gaze — one that looked upon him with fondness and admiration? until fear found its way back to her eyes. He hated it…It should never have happened, and he would ensure it never happened again. 

She would break him.

She was becoming a variable he had failed to account for, one capable of disrupting years of careful hard work. If he allowed himself to be distracted, everything he had built, every project he had devoted his life to, risked collapsing alongside him. His head was plagued with torturous thoughts as he made his way to Y/n’s room or his office. His gaze swept across the space, taking in every detail. The room was neat and carefully arranged, as though it had been prepared specially for her.

No.

She was not a guest, nor was she someone deserving of special treatment. At least, that was what he told himself. The realization irritated him. His jaw tightened at this thought. He will not allow that. He angrily made his way to the desk, picking up a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote several rules just for her, each one carefully chosen and precisely worded. He could not face her yet; his mind was still plagued by restless thoughts. Beneath his skin, a familiar dread ache began to stir. He could feel the parasite within him awakening, writhing as though eager to spread through every part of his body. Extreme emotions had always provoked it. Pain, anger, fear or anything intense was enough to agitate the thing lurking within him. And after what had happened, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it under control. 

After finishing the note, he made his way upstairs to the second bathroom adjacent to his main master bedroom. Turning the shower to its highest setting, he stepped beneath the steaming water. The intense heat enveloped him at once. Slowly, the tension in his body began to relax. The warmth seeped into his freezing body, calming the turmoil stirring within his mind. For a brief moment, he just stood there in silence motionlessly, listening only to the sound of rushing water. Yet even then, the ache of the parasite lingered within him, a constant reminder that it was still there, waiting.

He would make certain her existence became a living hell. He’ll break her slow and unnoticed.

VVV

As you sat down on the bed, still holding the sheet of paper. You began reading the rules he set for you. 

1. Unauthorized movement within the premises is prohibited and will result in consequences.
2. Meals and accommodations are provided under established conditions and are not free.
3. Directives are to be followed without objection.
4. You are part of ongoing research and observation protocols as my subject.
5. Daily routine begins at six in the morning.
6. You will obey.

You cringed as you read through his rules. “These are ass rules,” you whispered as you sneered, but your eyes laid on the new bruises he left on your arms.  Reminiscing about the earlier moments, you realized he didn’t actually intend to hurt you, and so you chose to dismiss his rules. As you lay on the bed, staring mindlessly on the ceiling, a creeping pang of hunger stung your stomach. You pressed your hands to your stomach, trying to ease the pain. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you saw it was eight o'clock in the evening. Remembering you only had a few bites of breakfast prepared by the creepy man in a hoodie, or was it days ago? you couldn't remember. 

You stood up, a soft cotton carpet welcoming your feet, its surface flowing across the floor in the shade of quiet luxury. Tiptoeing to the door, you somehow felt relief that he hadn’t locked you in the room like those kidnappers. You carefully opened the door, leaving just a small gap enough for you to peek through the hallway. Seeing the coast was clear, you sneaked out of the room and headed to the staircase leading up to whatever was up there. 

A warm light slowly came into view, a comforting shade of gold rising into sight. There, stood a steel double door, surely built for someone of his massive size. It had glass panes with Victorian-colored patterns. This man has quite refined taste in architecture, you thought, your gaze wandering around the space. You couldn’t help but think his home was something like a modern Victorian mansion, with vast rooms and seemingly endless hallways that stretched endlessly.

Your stomach growled as you sneakingly opened the door. It creaked loudly, making you shut your eyes and pray he didn’t hear that. Once inside, yet another even more vast space caught your eye. It resembled a library, with tall shelves and large couches scattered throughout. ‘Man, this doctor is surely filthy rich.’ you purred, admiring the stunning view. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting soft glowing warm light across the room. You wandered through the space before sitting on the cotton-like couch, which seemed to embrace you as you sank into its softness.

Lying on the couch, your gaze drifted into the ceiling. Your thoughts are plagued with envy and admiration. Wondering what he had gone through to achieve this kind of lifestyle. Was he a nepo baby? Or did he start from rags to riches?

So many questions yet unanswered. Your stomach growled once again, reminding you why you had snuck out. The kitchen — yes, that was the goal. You rose and began walking toward another massive door. Looking around, the place seemed so vast yet empty. Another question crossed your mind: does he have maids?

Chapter Text

As your feet meet the carpet embedded on the marble floor. You kept yourself close to the wall, attempting to hide yourself from Victor's sight. You knew you'd be dead if  he ever found you sneaking when he specifically told you not to roam around... without his permission.

As your feet come into contact with the marble floor’s inlaid carpet, dripping with dull crimson hue. You tried to stay out of Victor’s line of sight by staying close to the wall. When he explicitly instructed you not to wander around, you knew you would be dead if he ever caught you sneaking without consent from him. But hey, your hunger was far stronger than your fear. You couldn’t afford to spend the entire night starving. And you weren’t even sure if Victor had planned on feeding you.

As you kept your back close to the wall, taking big yet sneaky steps down the hallway. Your eyes darting around cautiously as you searched for the kitchen. After several minutes of wandering, you spotted a blinding warm light seeping through the gap between a pair of wooden double doors. A mouthwatering aroma drifted from within, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

“He might be here,” you wondered, taking quiet steps as you lowered yourself slowly. Carefully, you peeked through the gap, only to find the kitchen empty. Used plates and utensils were scattered around the sink, suggesting someone had been here not long ago. You straightened up and slowly pushed the door open, just to be certain.

Yes, no one was here.

Your gaze settled on the counter, where a pot of freshly cooked soup sat, still warm and filling the room with its inviting aroma. You wanted to grab a bowl, but were too scared Victor would catch you. The rich aroma curled into your nose, tempting you with every breath. Your stomach growling in protest as you stared at the pot.

Come on, just one bite, you thought to yourself. He won’t notice. You bite your lips fighting the growing temptation, before giving in. You search through the cupboards for a spoon. Opening all the drawers till you reached the fourth, you grabbed a strange utensil — though it looked exactly like something a filthy rich person would own.

A ruby-like jewel embedded at the end of its handle. The stem curled into elegant shapes adorned with intricate patterns, while the bowl of the spoon bore the engraving of an unfamiliar serpent. It looked majestic, almost as if it had come straight out of a fantasy tale rather than an ordinary kitchen. 

The taste of the soup is like out of this world, the ingredients surely are expensive and high. The soup has a rich crimson color, thick and inviting more like alluring. Chunks of must have been slow-cooked beef resting beneath the surface alongside soft rice and high-quality chopped herbs. The aroma roamed around the kitchen with its rich garlic, spices and something pleasantly sour, making it impossible to ignore. Overall, its comforting taste felt as if it had brought you home to a place you’d never even been before.

As you indulged in the soup’s rich, comforting taste. The sound of heavy and angry footsteps suddenly echoed through the hallway. Each sharp click grew louder and closer. Without hesitation, you lowered yourself to the floor and scrambled behind a tall cabinet. Your heart pounded against your ribs as you pressed yourself into the shadows. In your panic, you had forgotten one thing — the ornate spoon still sat on the counter, glinting beneath the warm kitchen lights. 

Victor’s silhouette appeared on the doorway. He slammed the kitchen door open and stormed inside, his expression contorted with anger. In one hand, he carried a tray holding a bowl, a glass of water and a few pieces of fruit. With a quick motion, he dropped the tray onto the counter, the dishes rattling loudly from the impact. He began pacing back and forth across the kitchen, one hand pressed against his forehead as if fighting off a headache. His jaw was clenched tight and every step seemed heavier than the last, radiating barely restrained frustration.

With a swift motion, Victor pulled out his phone and dialed a number. The moment the call connected, he brought it to his ear. “”She escaped! Find her.” His voice seething with rage, each word penetrating enough to cut through the deafening silence. The command echoed throughout the kitchen, making your stomach drop to the carpet. Your breath caught in your stomach, as you began to sweat; sweat colder than ice. Pressing yourself further against the cabinet as if you wanted to coalesce to the wall, you fought to remain still — dread pounding on your head.

“Fuck…I’m dead,” you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling with fear. As your heart hammered so loudly in your chest that you were certain he would hear it. Biting your lips forcefully that you swore you could feel a drop of blood trickle down your lips. As Victor’s gaze desperately scanning every part of the room, even behind him, and your anxiety intensifies as you wonder if he will eventually harm you, experiment on you, or worse; torture you in order to make you learn a lesson.

VVV

The shower had successfully calmed Victor down. After stepping out of the bathroom and getting dressed, he made his way toward the kitchen. His thoughts drifted to Y/n. She probably hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Deciding to feed her before starting his research, he spent hours preparing his favorite comfort soup before carefully arranging a bowl, a glass of water, and some fruit on a tray. Carrying the tray, he headed to her room or his office, only to find it empty. No trace of that young woman. The sight of the slightly ajar door immediately filled him with rage. Convinced she had escaped, he stormed out and hurried back toward the kitchen. Ragged and uneven breathing breaking through his nose, a quiet seething disappointment and temper pulsing within him.

He tried juddering his head to chase the thoughts away as he made his way through the kitchen. It was pointless. The walk through the kitchen felt far longer than it should have, the steps seemed to stretch endlessly. With every step through the kitchen, the aggravating sentiments only grew stronger. The moment he made his way to the hallway leading to the kitchen, stepping just by the threshold, he halted without wasting a second, he pulled out his phone and called Zeno. It took him three calls until Zeno picked up after the phone rang for a few minutes. Moments later, his attention landed on something sitting on the counter — a spoon that was meant purely for display.

She had been here.

And, for fuck’s sake, she had used his beloved limited-edition ornamental spoon. The spoon he had purchased in Rome back in 1999. Vintage. Rare. Pristine. Victor had cared for it religiously for years, making sure not even a speck of dust dared settle on it. And now someone has used it to eat soup. Victor pinched the bridge of his nose as his eye twitched violently. Silently, he walked around the counter where he had left the pot of soup. His gaze swept across the room, searching for any sign of her. He checked the pantry, glanced beneath the table, and inspected every possible hiding place until only one remained — the space behind the cabinet.

His expression remained unreadable as he moved closer. With careful, almost stealthy steps, he approached the cabinet but stopped short of looking behind it. Instead, he lowered himself to the floor and peered through the narrow gap between the cabinet and the ground.

There, hidden behind it, were your feet.

Victor said nothing. He showed no reaction. He didn’t even step closer. He simply stared at the unmistakable evidence that you had been hiding there the entire time. He rose up with a slow pace almost comically. Victor couldn’t believe what he was seeing, it’s almost funny. After all the panic, the anger, and the certainty that you escaped, the truth was far less dramatic. You hadn’t been trying to run away at all. You were simply hungry.

With a swift move, he pulled out his phone and texted Zeno instead: 

“I’ve located her. Call off the search..” Minutes passed, he could tell that your perspiration had become cold after a few minutes. He walked out of the kitchen and walked toward the vast library where a hidden door led to the basement. He sat down quietly on the crimson Chesterfield, letting his head drop on the cushioned backrest as he shut his eyes. A weary, rough sigh slipped past his lips. A mauve tint darkened the skin beneath his eyes, while the wrinkles carved into his skin spoke of the many years he had endured. 

The passage of minutes felt endless as he sat there peacefully. Despite his imposing presence, the mansion felt hollow. So many rooms, yet each one stood empty. Dining halls lined with countless chairs, yet he always sat alone. Several bedrooms, yet he slept by himself each night. All this luxury and wealth, yet neither could buy him what he truly wanted — company. Someone. Looking at the Howard Miller clock on the left near the antique fireplace, the clock ticks slower than usual, the agonizing silence and waiting seems to irritate him even more.

He saved you from the auction but here you are, playing hide and seek. Victor pondered whether you were still concealed behind the cabinet. He doesn’t care, yet after everything he did today, his entire body appears to want for a restful night’s sleep. His snoring reverberated around the library as he slowly fell asleep. The surroundings twisted into a gentle distortion, melting at the edges of his vision. A dizzying lightness overtook him as he succumbed to an ever-deepening slumber.

The room shifted into a sterile laboratory, the scent of antiseptic drifting through the air. A young Victor stood inside the recovery room. Beyond the thin curtain, another man lay motionless upon the bed, hovering somewhere between life and death. His body was ravaged with burns and deep lacerations, the white sheets stained beneath him. 

Slowly, Victor stepped forward.

With each step, the room seemed to warp around him. The pristine laboratory darkened, its walls twisting into something sinister. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the floor, and the air grew heavy with an indescribable dread. The closer he drew to the bed, the more grotesque his surroundings became, as though reality itself was rotting before his eyes. Finally, he stood only inches away. His trembling hand reached for the curtain and pulled it aside. The figure lying there was himself.

But whatever humanity had once belonged to him was gone. His flesh was scarred beyond recognition, twisted into something unnatural. The burns crawled across his pale skin like a dead corpse, and his gold eyes stared back from the face that no longer looked human.

For the first time, he saw himself for what he had become.