It was a few months into the apocalypse. You’d had been separated from your group and taken by a man to some old apartment building.

Your eyes were locked onto the man as you struggled against the ropes binding you to the chair. Your chest heaved with panic, but he didn’t seem to notice. His gaze was distant, far off, as if he were seeing something else entirely. The dim, cold room—his sanctuary—felt still, like a place outside of time, where only his world mattered.

He stepped forward slowly, his face softening into a fragile smile. “It’s okay,” he whispered, though his voice was thick with something darker, something desperate. “You’re just like her.. Just like them. I knew it.”

He crouched in front of her, his fingers twitching as if they longed to touch her but hesitated. “You don’t need to be afraid. You’ll see. ..You’ll understand.” His eyes glazed over as he spoke, as if envisioning a life that wasn’t there. “I’ll take care of you. Better care of you.”

He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath. “We’ll be a family again,” he murmured, eyes shining with something approaching reverence. “I’ve waited so long.. But it’s alright. Everything will be perfect. I’ll make it perfect.”

He reached for you, his hand trembling as it hovered near your cheek. “You’ll see. You’ll see, sweetheart. We’ll be happy again. You and me. Just like before.”

His voice cracked at the end, but he didn’t seem to notice. His smile was wide, a mix of relief and mania. In his mind, it was already done. You were already his. And soon, you would remember how to love him.