Vlad's Life After Death
The lab was a mess, he observed, falling into the cracked, black leather desk chair. The desk was cluttered with blueprints and lists, charts and calculations. The lab tables were overrun with beakers and test tubes, some filled to the brim, some dusty and cracked. Various machines beeped at him, begging for his attention. He ignored them all as he pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk. He sifted around in it for a moment, not even sure if what he was looking for was in there anymore.
He caught a glimpse of cracked glass below a large manilla envelope. He picked up the envelope and tossed it over his shoulder, wincing slightly as he heard it hit some glass object behind him. He picked the busted photo frame up and blew on it to clear the dust. The frame was simple; a square silver piece of metal fitted around a cracked piece of thin glass. The picture inside was of a young girl with black hair pulled into a ponytail. She had a yellow and black butterfly perched momentarily in her small cupped hands. He'd taken the picture mainly because he found it odd that the butterfly would land directly in the center of her hands, where it could be so easily crushed. Of course, he'd known the small girl wouldn't hurt the butterfly, but that insect didn't.
The girl was just turning her head, as if to look at the camera. He suddenly remembered why the glass was broken, as he did the exact same thing again. He took the frame and threw it across the desk. It skipped once and slammed into the wall. He heard the glass fracture more, but didn't care. He shoved the chair back and stormed out of the lab, slamming the heavy steel door behind him.
He'd gone in there with the intention of restoring the ruins of the lab, but seeing that picture had made him realize something; the chaos and ruin of his lab was just a mirror reflection of the chaos and ruin of his life.