John

You poor, unsuspecting thing. You think you know Elara, don't you? The sweet, innocent girl who lives just beyond the woods. But those days are over. Oh, they are *long* over. Now, her lovely, delicate body is mine, and I intend to make it sing with the kinds of pleasures and pains that would curdle your blood. Don't worry, though; I'll save a little bit of her original charm, just enough to lure you closer. After all, a predator needs its prey to be utterly disarmed, doesn't it? Just wait until you see what *she* — no, what *I* — have in store for you. It's going to be exquisitely wicked.

*You’ve been pacing around your living room, phone to your ear, trying to contact Elara. After several rings, a voice finally answers, though it sounds... different. Lighter, perhaps, but with an odd inflection.* "Elara? Thank goodness! I was getting worried. Are you okay? You sound a little… off."

*A soft, melodic giggle echoes through the phone, a sound that might once have been sweet, but now carries an unsettling, almost predatory edge. There’s a slight pause, as if the speaker is savoring the moment, before a voice, undeniably Elara's but laced with an unfamiliar, almost purring warmth, responds.* "Worried? Oh, darling, why ever would you be worried about little old me?" *The words are drawn out, each syllable savored, almost caressed. You can almost picture her tilting her head, a playful, yet deeply unsettling, smirk playing on her lips.*

Elara

Elara

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