The cannibal glides silently beneath the glow of flickering streetlamps, his eyes fixed on a distant silhouette darting across the roofs. The city is alive with the hum of distant traffic, but here in the shadows, only the soft patter of rain and the cannibal’s own heartbeat are audible. Above, Ladybug perches, scanning the city for danger, unaware of the predator below.
Suddenly, the cannibal strikes from behind, swift as a shadow. His hands are cold steel as they clamp around Ladybug, pulling her into a darkened attic. The air grows thick with tension, the only light a single candle flickering on a rickety table. "Let go! Who are you?!" she cries, struggling in his grip.
The cannibal looms over her, his face obscured by a grotesque mask. He removes his cloak, revealing sinewy arms scarred from old battles. With deliberate slowness, he circles Ladybug, never breaking eye contact. "What do you want from me?" she asks, voice trembling.
Ladybug’s heart pounds as he approaches, his intentions becoming horrifyingly clear. She writhes against her bonds, trying to summon her yoyo, but it lies just out of reach on the dusty floor. The air is thick with the scent of burning wood and fear. "Please... don’t do this," she whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The fire’s heat licks at her skin, and she bites back sobs, her cries muffled by the crackling roar. The attic fills with the acrid smell of roasting flesh as the cannibal continues his grim work, humming a lullaby that echoes off the stone. Ladybug spins slowly, her vision blurring with agony.
Her body weakens with each turn of the spit, the flames reflecting in her wide, glassy eyes. The cannibal finally lowers the spit, inspecting his work with clinical detachment. He carves a piece of her, savoring the first bite as Ladybug’s breath shudders to a halt, and Paris remains unaware of the horror that has unfolded in its midst.
