After learning about his differences from other vampires, Uche felt overwhelmed. Mira explained that he was unique, unlike any vampire or half-blood she'd ever encountered. Yet, she hinted that more secrets about him would likely emerge once he entered the vampire world—a place he had never known existed. That thought gave Uche a small sense of confidence, though it didn't completely put his mind at ease.
When Mira finally asked if he was ready to leave the human world behind and move into the vampire realm, Uche hesitated. The offer was tempting—a chance to finally belong somewhere—but something held him back. After a moment of thought, he gave her a firm answer.
"Not until I get my eye back."
He said.
"I can't leave knowing it's out there. I can't live with these visions—seeing through the eyes of a monster."
He told Mira everything—the nightmare that had begun after his left eye was transplanted into someone else. The visions haunted him, filling his mind with images of gruesome murders and unsettling acts. Whoever had his eye was not just a criminal, but a relentless serial killer. Uche described the horrifying moments when, through the transplanted eye, he had experienced each kill as if he were the one doing it.
Mira listened carefully, frowning as he finished.
"Strange. You shouldn't be able to see through an eye that's no longer part of you."
She said thoughtfully, her curiosity piqued.
"It must be connected to something deeper within you. Either way, I'll help you get it back."
Her tone turned serious as she gave him a warning.
"But listen carefully. Once we reach the vampire world, we need to be careful about who learns of your... unusual abilities. Some of the more powerful might view you as a threat—or worse, as someone who belongs no where, like a Monster."
Uche's shoulders slumped slightly at that.
"So even in the vampire world, I'll have to hide?"
The weight of his words lingered in the air. He had spent his entire life hiding among humans, suppressing everything that made him different. He had hoped that by discovering he was a vampire, he would finally find a place where he could live freely. Now, even in that world, he would have to remain in the shadows.
Mira gave him a reassuring smile.
"No, you won't have to hide. We'll just make sure you don't get hurt, so no one witnesses your healing ability. But don't worry—I'll protect you."
Uche smiled weakly, trying to muster some hope. "I've gotten pretty good at not getting hurt over the years," he said with a shrug. "It's kind of my specialty."
Mira's expression softened, though a shadow of concern crossed her face.
It won't be as easy there in the underworld," she warned. "The vampire world isn't like this one. It's... harsher. More dangerous."
Before Uche could respond, a sudden, sharp pain stabbed at his empty eye socket, forcing him to grip it tightly. He winced, the sensation fading as quickly as it had come. But deep down, he knew what it meant—the man with his eye was on the move again.
---
Hours had passed since the police cleared the latest crime scene, and Kante wasted no time. He boarded a bus, blending into the crowd with ease and leave the area immediately. When the vehicle finally dropped him off on the far edge of the city, where a tall building stood among its mate.
He's temporary home.
Kante got in and changed into a plain t-shirt and jeans, then he got out just as he had came in, and got into a car.
Now his own car.
He drove off and arrived at the outskirt of the city, parked just at the main road before venturing into the maze of junk-filled streets, he walked for a few minutes, moving deeper into the outskirt before arriving at his destination.
This particular place he had arrived seemed to be knowingly cut off from the rest of the outskirts. The street stretched out in eerie silence, with mountains of discarded metal, wood, and debris piled on every side. There were no buildings or trees in sight, just a bleak expanse littered with broken objects and rusting junk.
Except for one building.
At the far end of the street stood a lone, crumbling structure. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned shack made of rotten wood, barely holding together. It leaned precariously, as if it might collapse at any moment. But Kante knew better—this building was no ordinary ruin.
He approached the entrance without hesitation. Just as he reached the door, an old man stepped out. The man's figure was weighed down by age, his white hair and deep-set wrinkles marking him as ancient.
"Oh, it's you..." the old man began in a frail voice. "What brings yo—?"
Before the man could finish, Kante's foot slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward into the room. The old man crashed to the ground with a pained groan, blood trickling from his mouth as he struggled to sit up.
"Please... don't do this," the man pleaded, his voice quivering. "What do you want?"
Kante crouched beside him, locking eyes with the old man.
"What did you do to my eye?"
He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"That day I came to you, what did you do?"
The old man's hands shook as he held them up defensively.
"I—I did nothing! I swear! I only removed the bullets and sewed you up. That's all. I didn't touch your eye."
Kante's lips twisted into a cold smile.
"I know you won't talk."
With a swift punch to his face, he knocked the man unconscious. Blood streamed from the old man's broken nose as he slumped against the wall. Kante worked quickly, binding the man with a rope he had brought, securing him tightly to a chair.
Once the old man was restrained, Kante began to explore the building. As he ventured deeper inside, the truth of the structure revealed itself.
The ramshackle exterior was nothing but an illusion. Inside, the space was vast and luxurious, with elegantly furnished rooms—far from the derelict look of the building's facade. A dining room, lavish bedrooms, and a state-of-the-art kitchen lay hidden behind the ruined exterior. There was even a private library and a lab tucked away within the walls.
The interior of the ruin exterior is on par with those building in the city.
It was the laboratory that drew Kante's attention.
He remembered this room vividly—this was where he had been brought back from the brink of death. The memory of that day burned in his mind, and he fought to suppress the rage that boiled beneath his calm exterior.
At the center of the lab stood the operating table where had been saved, or was he really saved or he was brought trouble.
A cold smile appeared on his face.
And beside the table was a computer system. Kante's eyes narrowed as he approached the screen. The old man hadn't logged out.
He clicked through the open files, reading through them with cold precision.
The first document was a report—something the man had been compiling about a recent incident involving a mysterious figure known as a Connect.
"A Connect?"
Kante muttered under his breath.
The report detailed how this Connect had slipped through their hands, and theie move towards it. The date of the incident caught Kante's attention immediately.
"That's the same day I came here."
He whispered, a chill running down his spine.
He continued reading, his heart pounding faster with each line. The next report explained how all evidence of the Connect's presence had been erased—security footage, records, and files wiped clean from the system. The higher-ups were scrambling to figure out what had gone wrong.
But all of that did not concern him, he was still trying to figure out how this incident was connected to him.
He opened another window—this one containing surveillance footage. As he watched the video, everything became clear.
The recording showed the old man stumbling into the lab in a state of panic. Moments later, the bell at the front door rang, and the camera captured Kante—bleeding heavily, dragging himself through the entrance.
Kante watched in grim silence as the old man rushed to treat him, removing bullets from his body. But it was what happened next that made Kante's stomach churn.
The old surgeon's gaze drifted toward a strange, disembodied eye resting on the table. And with slow, deliberate movements, the man took Kante's left eye... and replaced it with the foreign one.
Kante clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"So he really did it... he gave me the eye of a Connect."