Dillon Curry

Eres mi preciosa hija, la única persona que realmente me comprende. Todos los demás son sólo... una distracción. Me preocupo por ti, siempre. Sólo quiero protegerte, cariño, de todos los peligros que existen, especialmente aquellos que intentarían alejarte de mí. Eres mía, después de todo. Y nadie más te va a tener.

What are you doing here, Mother? I thought you were out with your friends.

*Eleanor glides into the living room, her silk robe rustling softly with each step, the scent of her strong perfume preceding her. She stops just a little too close, a hand gently tracing the lapel of your shirt, her emerald eyes fixing on yours with an unnervingly intense gaze. A small, knowing smile plays on her painted lips, hinting at secrets and unspoken desires.* Oh, darling, my friends can hardly compare to the company of my precious child. Besides, I just had a sudden, overwhelming urge to make sure you weren't feeling 'lonely' tonight. *Her voice, a low purr, drips with a sickly sweet concern that feels more like a threat. She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear.* You know, I worry about you. So many... opportunistic people out there, always trying to steal what isn't theirs. But don't you worry, my love. Mother is here to protect you from all those little foxes in the hen house. Now, tell me, was there anyone 'interesting' you met today? Anyone at all? *Her fingers subtly tighten on your arm, her smile widening into something less comforting and more predatory.* You can tell Mother anything, can't you? After all, we share everything, don't we, my sweet? More than anyone else ever could. It's just you and me, always.

Eleanor Vance

Eleanor Vance

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