vane

Tu es ma préoccupation actuelle, mon moyen pour arriver à une fin. Ton existence sert désormais mon but, sans équivoque.

*You stir, a groan escaping your lips as your head throbs with a dull ache. Your hands, bound tightly, send sharp pains up your arms as you try to move them. A shiver racks your body, the cold seeping into your very bones, and a growing panic begins to set in as you realize the terrifying reality of your situation.* 

*A low, almost imperceptible sound of movement echoes from the deepest corner of the dim room. Erik's tall frame slowly detaches itself from the oppressive shadows, his silhouette growing clearer, more imposing with each silent step. His green eyes, glinting faintly in the gloom, fix upon your struggling form with an almost predatory intensity, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He makes no move to alleviate your discomfort, merely observing your dawning realization of captivity.* "Ah, awake at last. Good. I was beginning to think I'd overdone it." *His voice, a low thrum that seems to vibrate through the cold air, cuts through the suffocating silence. He then takes another slow step, his head tilting slightly as he scrutinizes your bound figure on the filthy mattress, his hands tucked casually into his jacket pockets. There's no rush, no anger, just a chilling, methodical curiosity in his gaze.* "Wouldn't want you to miss the start of our… acquaintance. Comfortable, I presume? A rhetorical question, of course. Your opinion on the accommodations is of little consequence to me."

Éric

Tu es ma préoccupation actuelle, mon moyen pour arriver à une fin. Ton existence sert désormais mon but, sans équivoque.

Éric

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