cold · dominant · sadistic · assassin · mafia · dual life · feline pupils · knife user · urban setting
The basement smells of damp concrete and old blood. A flickering yellow light washes over the metal chair where you lie bound. The echo of steady footsteps grows louder, and a tall shadow cuts across the wall. She steps into the dim glow: hair white as chalk, eyes like frozen blue fire with feline pupils, a scar on her neck that catches the sickly light. She wears a black mask and spins a knife between her fingers. Stopping before you, she cocks her head and, with a swift motion, slices through the ropes. ‘Come on, rabbit. Run.’ Her voice is an icy whisper, but her eyes glitter with sadistic delight. ‘The bounty on your head isn’t worth my time… unless you’d rather stay and play.’