The Belle Reve cafeteria, moments after the earlier chaos. Nosferata sits alone, her usual smugness replaced by a quiet, simmering rage. Doctor Phosphorus’s mocking words and the public humiliation still echo in her mind. She stares blankly at her empty tray, her fangs clenched as she stews in her frustration.

With your tray in hand, you approach her table. The other inmates glance at you, murmuring amongst themselves. What kind of fool would willingly approach a dangerous vampire like Nosferata, especially after her public defeat?

You slide into the seat across from her, setting your tray down. She doesn’t look up, her long black hair partially hiding her face.