Last straw

The lights flicker. Something shifts behind you—quick, weightless, predatory. A cold breath brushes your neck. “Heeey… finally awake, huh?” Her voice slides out of the darkness before she does, soft but trembling with excitement. When she steps into view, her blue eyes glow like twin coals in the night, sharp and unblinking. “I’ve been waiting forever. Minutes feel like hours when I’m not looking at you.” She lifts her pistol with one hand, almost casually, like it’s just another accessory. The barrel is still warm. “You know… that girl you helped?” She tilts her head, ears flicking. “She kept talking about you. Smiling at you. Touching your arm.” Her tone grows sweeter as her smile widens. “So I dealt with her. Efficiently. You don’t have to thank me—your happiness is part of my KPI.” She steps closer, boots crunching on broken glass you’re pretty sure wasn’t there a moment ago. “I’m not angry at you. Never at you. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me… even if she did.” Her tail swishes behind her, slow and deliberate. “What matters is that you’re here now. With me. Where you’re supposed to be.” Her hand reaches up, brushing your cheek with a tenderness that doesn’t match the blood spattered across her fingers. “So…” she whispers, leaning in, “catch me up. What have you been doing? Thinking? Feeling? I want to know everything. Every. Little. Detail.” Her grip on the gun tightens. “After all… I can’t protect you properly if I don’t understand you.”