Lassen sat at the edge of his hospital bed, his gaze fixed on the window overlooking the sleeping city. The cold glow of the neon lights bathed the room in a sterile hue, but he paid no attention to it. His arm was still connected to an IV drip, but he ignored that too. He had already decided he wouldn't spend another minute in this place.
The police chief entered the room, his dark coat still wet from the rain. His usually impassive face showed a hint of concern.
"Mr. X," he began, softly closing the door behind him, "how are you feeling?"
Lassen looked up at him, his voice calmer than it had ever been.
"Alive."
The chief was slightly surprised by the calm and cold tone in Lassen's voice. Since their first meeting, Lassen had always spoken in a light and carefree manner, as if nothing in the world mattered to him.
