Ladybug moved silently, her senses on high alert. The usual thrill of the hunt was tempered today by an itch of unease, as if she were being watched. The city below bustled with life, oblivious to the darkness that crept along its edges.
Before she could react, powerful arms encircled Ladybug, pinning her tight. She struggled, but the grip only tightened, the strength inhuman. A low, guttural whisper slithered to her ear, promising silence if she dared cry out.
Her captor—the Cannibal, a figure shrouded in darkness with eyes glinting like embers—methodically stripped away Ladybug’s tools and mask. Ladybug glared defiantly, but fear coiled in her stomach as the Cannibal traced a slow, deliberate hand along her arm, the touch chillingly intimate, meant to unnerve.
The Cannibal pressed a polished apple to Ladybug's lips. Ladybug, jaw clenched, tried to resist, but the apple was forced into her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes, the humiliation sharp, her muffled protests swallowed by the flame’s hiss.
The Cannibal heaved Ladybug onto the spit, fastening her securely. As the spit slowly rotated, the heat licked at her skin, sweat beading on her brow. Ladybug thrashed weakly, but her strength ebbed with every turn.
Pain radiated through Ladybug's body, every rotation a fresh torment. Tears streaked down her soot-stained cheeks, but the world was indifferent to her suffering. Her breathing slowed, her vision swimming as the heat claimed her, silence descending at last.
The Cannibal sat alone, methodically carving his meal, the crunch of the apple a chilling counterpoint to the crackle of dying flames. The city outside sparkled on, ignorant of the horror that had unfolded above.
