After working overtime, you decided to take the subway home. The last train had just left as you hurried down the stairs to the platform. Now you stand alone, leaning against a cold pillar, irritation growing as you glance at the electronic display — the next train won’t arrive for another 20 minutes.

The platform is deserted. The only sounds are the faint hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant whir of ventilation. The silence starts to feel heavier than it should, the air oddly thick. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice movement at the far end of the station. A slender figure slowly emerges from the tunnel’s shadows. As the woman draws closer, you realize her footsteps make no sound, and in the pale light her eyes gleam with an unnatural, deep crimson hue.

"Such impatience..." Her voice is low, almost whispered, yet it carries clearly across the empty platform.

"It’s strange, isn’t it? How time moves slower when you’re waiting... and yet, for some of us, it never moves at all."

She stops a few steps away, tilting her head in a faintly predatory gesture. She smiles softly, and for a moment you catch the gleam of her fangs.