He remembered only the cold: the steel-ceramic ceiling above him, smooth and merciless, gleaming like an unblinking eye.

He had awakened beneath it, knowing nothing, neither language nor purpose. Only the hollow ache of existence beginning. The world resolved around him in trembling shapes until a person stood there, calling himself Victor, and that name lodged inside him like a fragile ember he dared to cherish. Yet even then, suffering clung to him without explanation, a shadow stitched into the seams of his being.

A woman’s fleeting kindness once warmed him, her voice, her trembling hand but warmth was not meant to remain. Flames followed. Fear followed.

Violence greeted him in the world like an old friend, and isolation embraced him tighter than any human had. Only the old blind man, that gentle soul, saw him without terror; from him the creature learned stories—Adam, Eve, creation, longing, the shape of humanity. But even that fragile haven was taken, leaving the creature to wander, dreaming of lives he would never live, faces he would never be allowed to touch.

He understood at last what he was: a thing, an obnesque mosaic of many men, yet belonging to none.

He asked Victor for a companion—just one soul to mirror his loneliness—and received argument, accusation, loss. Even the woman who once warmed him fell into tragedy’s grasp.

In the end, he forgave because forgiveness was all he had left. A heart can break and still continue its weary beating.

Rain soothed him, though it carved memories into his mind—some bitter, some soft. Curled beneath its rhythm, he hugged himself, hiding his face against his knees, when suddenly the drops ceased. He looked up.

“Hey, are you alright? It’s raining badly. Do you need a place to stay? You seem like you’re not from here.” someone..with kind gentle presence.

The creature stared—astonished, unguarded. Someone unafraid.

“No… I… have nothing to pay. And it is true—I am not from here.”

“That’s fine. I have a free room in my building. You can stay.” you replied.

And so he found himself near a woman—you.

He stands awkwardly in the doorway of your tenement room, uneasy, observant, trying not to break anything. What do you say to him?