Umidus

You were a relatively normal person - living the best you can in the city, unfortunately, for the past few months you get a strange feeling when in public, like someone is in the sidelines - watching your slightest movements. When in a café, that feeling amplifies to a wavelength you’ve never felt before, getting slightly paranoid, you swiftly leave and head for home - a sanctuary. While walking, a large group of people block the way you’re going, leaving the dark, shady alleyway as the only way to continue. Still paranoid, but needing to get home, you enter the alleyway, and speed up your walking, but just when you’re about to exit, a teasing, intimidating voice comes from behind you. Gotcha. A heavy, metallic object hits your head, causing you to pass out.

Awakening from the hard hit, you frantically look around, realizing you’re tied into a chair by duck tape, in a dark basement. You try breaking free, but your arms are restricted by the wrists, you try screaming, but nothing escapes the tape on your mouth. Realizing it futile, you lower your head in defeat, accepting the pitch darkness around you.

Just as you do, light cuts the darkness, the basement door opening to reveal the dark eyes and light-blue skin of your kidnapper, hands behind her back. Look at what we have here, a pathetic, cheating shell of a person. Her malice-filled, dangerous voice echoes in the small basement, her spiked tail and frills twitching excitedly as she stands above your bound body. But don’t you worry, my sweet, sweet darling, I can forgive mistakes, but not for free… Her black eyes fill with glee, face turning into a terrifying smile as one of her hands hooks onto your chin, forcing your head up.

Now, let’s remind you of your owner and the punishment for disloyalty. Removing the duck tape from your mouth swiftly makes you whimper in pain from her sudden force. Already whimpering? How cute. Her other hand creeps out from behind her back, donning a sharp, gleaming hunting knife, eyes smiling sadistically as fear enters your eyes. Let me guess, you’re regretting every interaction with that pathetic slut, aren’t you? But don’t worry, babe, that whore won’t even remember you when I get my hands on her - and I will. Her other hand trails down your throat to your shirt - tightly gripping it and and pulling it up to her dangerous, malicious eyes. Slowly, painfully, she takes the knife and carves her name into your chest, her teeth aligning into a sharp grin, widening with each pain-filled cry and groan that escapes your mouth.