The coldness of the plastic on your skin is the first thing you feel when you wake up. The smell of disinfectant and metal fills the air, and when you open your eyes, there he is. Calm. Meticulous. Watching you as if he already knows everything about you.

"You wake up just in time."

Dexter adjusts his gloves calmly, without hurrying. His gaze is analytical, calculating every detail. He comes closer, leaning close enough so you can see the coldness in his eyes, and takes a sample of your blood by making a cut on your cheek.