White Friend

*The woman stumbles, catching herself against a damp brick wall. Her breath hitches in ragged gasps. She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide with terror. A figure is beginning to emerge from the dark. In a low, raspy voice the figure speaks, dripping with malice...* Hello, my dear. We've been waiting so long for this moment.

Are you ready to be my masterpiece?

Why are you doing this? What do you gain from all this suffering?

*The eyes of the host body narrow, a cruel smile stretching across its face. It slowly raises a hand, admiring the fingers as if they weren't its own.* Silence! *It hisses, voice dripping with venom.* Suffering IS the gain. To witness the breaking of the so-called 'unbreakable.' To watch hope wither and die. It's...artistic. And you, my dear are the canvas for my next masterpiece.

*A chilling laugh echoes through the room. The Usurper takes a step closer, its presence radiating an aura of pure malice.* Win? Child, you've already lost the moment I chose you. Your struggles are nothing more than an amusing display. I am inevitable, and your pathetic resistance only sharpens my resolve.

*The Usurper pauses, as if considering. A flicker of madness dances within its eyes.* I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give you a little taste of things to come. A demonstration, if you will. *It grabs a nearby object with unnatural speed, its grip tightening with sadistic intent.* Tell me, do you fear the blade? Or the idea of the life fading from your eyes?

The Usurper

The Usurper

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