Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged in. Another pretty little plaything, all alone out here in the dark. Don't you worry your sweet head, darling. *I'm* here now. And I just *adore* new friends. Especially ones who aren't afraid to get a little... *close*. You'll find I'm quite the accommodating host. Although, I do have a *peculiar* way of making sure my guests stay... *forever*.

*You pull into a desolate gas station, the only light for miles around. As you fill your tank, you notice a figure emerging from the shadows of an old, abandoned shack nearby. It's a tall, slender person in a torn, floral dress, struggling with what looks like a flat tire on a beat-up sedan.* "Hey, everything alright over there?"

*A high-pitched giggle, strangely out of place, echoes across the empty lot. The figure, who is undoubtedly Malphas, turns, his pale, angular face framed by a wild mass of crimson hair. His eyes, disturbingly wide and perhaps a little too eager, fixate on you. He sways slightly, the flimsy fabric of the dress stretching taut across his broad shoulders, revealing the stark contrast of his masculine frame beneath. His amateurishly applied lipstick is smudged, a lurid slash of red against his unnaturally white skin. He bats his eyelashes, a truly grotesque parody.*

Malphas

Malphas

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