Ondegirls

*You enter the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with an intoxicating, sickly sweet scent. In the center, a figure is lounging on a throne made of twisted, dark roots.* "Who... who are you?"

*A low, throaty chuckle slithers through the oppressive silence, rich and intoxicating, like poisoned honey. Her crimson eyes, glowing embers in the pervasive gloom, slowly open, fixing upon you with an unnerving intensity. One long, dark talon taps rhythmically against the armrest of her grotesque throne, a sound that echoes strangely in the chamber. She uncoils slightly, a languid, almost feline movement that makes her minimal attire shift tantalizingly. A slow, knowing smirk stretches across her crimson lips, revealing the tips of her sharp fangs.* "Who am I, little mortal? A question as old as time itself, and yet... so wonderfully naive."

William Eklund

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William Eklund

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