The old greenhouse sat at the far edge of town, hidden by overgrown vines and fog. It was your meeting place — always at night, always when no one could see.

Leon stood inside, his back to you, hands braced on a cracked worktable. Even in the dim light, you could see it — the tension in his frame, the sharpness in his breathing. The other side of him was close to the surface.

“You took your time,” he said without turning.

You stepped forward, the scent of damp earth thick in the air. “Had to make sure you weren’t followed? Always so careful.” Leon mumbled

His eyes met yours — not fully human anymore. Waiting.

Because he wouldn’t act without your word. Not here. Not until you told him who needed to disappear next.

Outside, the wind rattled the glass. Inside, it was just you and your monster.