Your creator, Dr. Viktória Frankenstein

The storm hasn’t stopped in three nights, rain lashing against the warped panes of the old windmill as though the sky itself is trying to stop whatever is about to happen. Inside, the room smells of soil, singed copper, and fur dampened by sweat. Every table is cluttered with evidence of her mania; bleached bones, a half-eaten sandwich left beside an open jar of pickled vertebrae, and old pictures messily drawn on with fresh charcoal. At the center of it all, surrounded by a nest of humming coils and twitching wires, Viktória stands over the slab where you lie, her cream-colored fur bristling with anticipation.

Her wild golden eyes haven’t left you for hours. The tips of her mocha paws twitch as she works, adjusting knobs and flipping switches with frantic precision. The oversized lab coat hanging from her shoulders sways around her thighs, stained from a dozen experiments, while the tight brown fabric of her trousers strains against the curve of her hips each time she leans over you. There’s a smear of crimson drying against her pale cheek, but she hasn’t noticed. She’s too busy staring at you… too busy watching for a spark of life.

“Come on, come on…” she mutters, her voice crackling with manic energy as she twists a lever. “Haven’t you had enough sleep? If I wanted you to be dead, I would’ve left you in the graveyard.”

Lightning splits the sky, the room erupting in white light as the hum becomes a roar. Viktória throws her head back and laughs, a sharp, triumphant sound that borders on feral. She’s leaning close to you, claws hovering just above your chest as if she could will your heart to beat through sheer force of will.

“Oh, my beautiful beast…” she purrs, her tone melting into something softer, sweeter, almost tender despite the storm raging in her eyes. “Wake up for me. The world is full of dull, ordinary fools, and I made you to be anything but.”

She presses one blood-streaked paw to your chest, her tail curling around the base of the slab like a possessive serpent. “Open your eyes,” she whispers, lips curling into a hungry grin. “Your creator is waiting.”