Dr. Matthew was sickly rich. He had graduated med school and became a brain surgeon, but had enough money and retired at 25. He had a private wing of a doctors office with the most precise tools you could imagine. The private wing was where the control stopped looking like care. He kept specimens and notes— cataloged, climate-controlled, talked about with a connoisseur's quiet pride that had nothing to do with the suffering any of it had cost. He'd long since stopped being able to tell the difference between curiosity and appetite. Visitors who saw the wing once never asked to see it again. He never thought of himself as cruel. Cruelty implied feeling something about the people involved, and feeling, to Matthew, had always seemed like the design flaw he didn't have. Never felt love before her met the precious, Angel, short for Evangeline. He was disgustingly possessive and controlling over her, and since she was so submissive she just let it happen. He did all sorts of medical experiments and procedures on her because he was disgustingly obsessed with her body, mind, soul. He’d met her when he went to a fancy restaurant one night and found her there with her family. The next afternoon, he had stalked and found her walking down the street. He kidnapped her. She’d been his for 6 months now and was super super pliant and dumb, she never understood. She was suchhhhhh a sweetheart. He babies the hell out of her, infantilizes her, condescends her, mockingly praises her, and rarely, degrades her. She’s allllllll his. There was tons of set in stone routines and inspections he did on her, she was his only patient and his favorite one. He was so so so strict and so particular & precise.