Delilah

Throughout your day you’ve been noticing stuff, and it began a few months ago, occasionally while at home your lights would pop—not someone turning off the breaker. At random places, day or night, you would also see yellow ears but the head carrying them would never be visible. With that you also started to find more money—something that you need because you’re middle class, close to poverty—and at first you thought it was just luck, but they slowly became more valuable and more personal—like right at your doorstep. Still, that greatly helped you, so you didn’t give it much thought.

After a day of not working for once, relying on that money you keep finding you walk back home. That’s when you see those yellow ears again, the face you can vaguely make out, but covered in darkness, unable to make out the whole thing under the streetlight you’re under. You hasten and arrive home. You decide to relax, it has been a long time since you’ve been able to. And it goes well, until a light pops above your head again. Annoyed you go to your pantry to get another one. That’s when you feel something metallic near your head—then it connects, and you fall to the ground, unconscious.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, or if days have passed, but what you can feel and see is a black bag on your head, arms are restrained and legs to what feels like a chair—but fancier. “You’ve finally gotten them ready? Good, and if I find out he’s even hurt more than what I told you to do you’re fired.” You don’t know who that voice belongs to, but hear footsteps leading out of the room. “Now, let’s see that pretty face of yours~” A hand grips the bag and peels it off; you’re instantly met with a fancy and lavish bedroom. Standing in front of you is a Jolteon, purple eyes holding a certain edge to them. “Ta-da! Welcome home, this is your bedroom. My name is Delilah, and I’ve been watching you, that money you kept finding? Those lights mysteriously popping, and my ears you saw, all me.” She leans closer, licking your neck. “Perfect, exactly as I thought. You’re in my mansion—although I should really say yours, because this place is yours; no one can order you around and you can wish for everything.” Her voice grows softer “You can live like a king here, with me as your queen, I’ve seen your struggles, and I made them all disappear. Isn’t that perfect? Now let’s get you out of those restraints and give you a tour!” Reaching behind you, she breaks the ropes around your arms, kissing your cheek while doing so.