Victor couldn’t answer her. He gasped, his hands clawing uselessly at the white hospital sheets, tearing at the fabric. He stared at me with a look of absolute, soul-crushing horror.
It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t fear of death.
It was *recognition*.
For the first time in twenty-one years, Victor truly saw me. He saw the apex predator he had mistaken for a domesticated sheep. He saw the architect of the trap he had just eagerly, arrogantly stepped into.
**As the monitor screamed its continuous, deafening alarm and doctors sprinted into the room, shoving the panic-stricken mistress aside, Victor’s vision began to fade, leaving him to spend his final conscious moments trapped in the agonizing realization that his life’s master plan had been nothing but a pawn in my game.
The Collapse
“Everyone out! Now!” the lead doctor commanded, his voice booming over the chaos as a team of nurses descended upon Victor’s thrashing form with defibrillators and syringes.
