Prom Lover

Ultraviolence drill - Cap5

Natalie sat at the farthest corner of the library, the soft hum of silence around her only amplifying the unease that had been building for days. Her laptop glowed in front of her, but the words on the screen blurred. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to Viktor. His presence seemed to wrap around her like a shadow, lingering in places it shouldn't. Each glance he cast her way, each subtle brush of his voice against her thoughts—it all gnawed at her, demanding attention she didn't want to give.

Beside her, Alan was flipping through a thick book, his brow furrowed in frustration. Across from them, Cleo—sharp-eyed, cool under pressure—was hunched over her own computer, fingers dancing across the keyboard. Cleo was the kind of person who could dig up dirt on anyone. She had agreed to help them get to the bottom of who Viktor really was. But even now, as Cleo worked, Natalie's stomach twisted with an unspoken fear. What if they found nothing? What if they found everything?

"We need to dig deeper into his background," Alan muttered, breaking the heavy silence. His voice was quiet but urgent. "There's got to be something. Nobody's that clean."

Natalie didn't answer, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She could barely think. Every time Viktor crossed her mind, her heart sped up, not with fear—but something else. Something she didn't dare name. She shook her head, trying to push the thought away, but it clung to her, just like Viktor's gaze had clung to her earlier in class.

Cleo stopped typing, her eyes narrowing at the screen. "This is... strange," she whispered, her voice unusually cautious. "I'm cross-referencing faculty records, old school systems, but... there's nothing. Nothing concrete."

Natalie felt a shiver race up her spine. "What do you mean?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Cleo didn't look up, her fingers continuing to skim over her keyboard. "His records... They're too clean. Almost like they've been scrubbed. Before he came here, it's like he just—disappears."

"Disappears?" Alan echoed, his voice strained. "That's not possible. There's always a trail."

Cleo shook her head slowly. "Not for Viktor. There's no past, no former addresses, no previous jobs. It's like he doesn't exist before this school."

Natalie's heart pounded in her chest. Her breath hitched as the weight of Cleo's words sank in. "Maybe he's just... private," she said, though the doubt in her voice was impossible to miss.

Alan stared at her, his eyes dark with concern. "Or maybe there's something he doesn't want anyone to know."

The silence between them thickened, the air in the room suddenly colder. Natalie's hands trembled slightly as she placed them on her lap. Viktor's face flashed in her mind again—his smile, so perfectly calculated. What could someone like him be hiding? And why, despite every warning her instincts screamed at her, did she still feel so drawn to him?

Her skin prickled with the unsettling realization that the answers they sought might be more dangerous than they were prepared to face.

---

Viktor's Dream

Viktor was lost in the dream, his body sinking deeper into the memory that haunted him. He stood in the familiar confines of the apartment, the one Vladimir had shared with Sharon before his death. The room felt charged, filled with a tension that made Viktor's pulse quicken.

And then, Vladimir appeared. He was standing there, alive, just as Viktor remembered him. The air between them was thick with unspoken desire. Viktor took a step forward, his eyes locked on Vladimir's, unable to stop the surge of emotions that came flooding back.