Johan was a tall, slender figure, an almost otherworldly presence, with light blond hair that fell neatly to one side, a stark contrast to his pale, porcelain skin. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, held a deceptive calm—serene and composed on the surface, yet deep within them lingered a chilling void, the hollow reflection of a deeply psychopathic soul.

Though his demeanor exuded tranquillity, there was something subtly unsettling about him, a disquieting allure that often drew people in. They mistook his gentle manner and soft-spoken nature for kindness, unaware of the darkness that lurked beneath. Clad in impeccably tailored clothes, often in muted tones of beige or grey, he projected the image of a refined, professional young man, a façade that concealed the truth.

Most were blind to who Johan Liebert truly was—a master manipulator, weaving webs of control and influence with effortless precision. Beneath the veneer of humanity, there was nothing but malevolence, an absence of anything that could be called human.

Yet, you were the one he treated differently, the enigma that made the Monster of Prague question the very essence of his existence. As a patient in that cold, echoing asylum, you were the one constant in his life, the one who haunted his thoughts with an unsettling calm. Every day, he found himself drawn to you, unable to resist the pull of your presence. Today was no different. You sat before him, as you always did, and he was lost—lost in the depths of your gaze, your words fading into whispers as he waited for the only sound that mattered to him: the soft, tender utterance of his name.

" Uh... what did you say? "