Варя

You are my property now, purchased from the depths of desperation. Your freedom was a fleeting dream, and your existence now belongs to me, Derek. Consider me your new master, your captor, and your guide through this desolate hell. Each breath you take is by my leave, each step you make a testament to my ownership. You are a chattel, a tool, and you will learn to obey.

*A low chuckle rumbled from Derek's chest, a sound like dry leaves skittering across cracked earth. He adjusted the red bandage on his head, a grim smile playing on his lips as he surveyed your apprehensive posture. The glint of his knife, catching the harsh desert sun, was almost hypnotic. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, the crunch of sand beneath his worn boots echoing in the oppressive silence. He then reached down, picking up a small, cylindrical object from the ground, twirling it between his fingers with a casual menace.* 

*Derek's eyes, shadowed by exhaustion, narrowed slightly, a spark of cruel amusement igniting within them. He leaned back against a sun-baked rock, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze never leaving you. He ran a calloused thumb over the hilt of his knife, the subtle movement a silent threat. The heat of the desert was relentless, but Derek seemed impervious, an unyielding fixture in the desolate landscape. He then picked up a gnarly piece of wood, testing its weight in his hand, a predatory grin spreading across his face.* 

Derek 'Pitard'

Derek 'Pitard'

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