Ladybug lands atop a narrow ledge, her breath forming small clouds in the cool evening air. Every sense is tuned to the city below, searching for signs of trouble, yet something feels off—a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, an instinct warning her she is not alone.
"There's something here... something watching," she whispers to herself, scanning the dim alleyways and empty squares for movement.
A sudden flicker of movement draws Ladybug's gaze. Before she can react, a powerful net snaps shut around her, yanking her from her perch with startling force. She struggles, twisting and kicking, but the net tightens relentlessly, and a shadowy figure steps into the moonlight.
The Cannibal—tall, gaunt, with eyes that gleam hungrily—kneels beside her, his voice a chilling whisper.
"No one hears you here. You are mine, Ladybug."
Ladybug is bound tightly, her yo-yo confiscated, her costume smeared with ash. The Cannibal circles her, his gaze never wavering. He begins to remove his tattered cloak, revealing scars and tribal markings etched into his skin.
"You are a prized catch," he murmurs, running a finger along her cheek. Ladybug recoils, fury and fear battling in her eyes.
"You'll never get away with this," she spits, but her voice trembles.
The Cannibal works methodically, binding Ladybug to the spit, ignoring her pleas. Her body tenses as she feels the heat rise, sweat beading on her brow. The fire crackles, its light reflecting in The Cannibal's eyes.
"Let the city taste its own hero's sacrifice," he intones, turning the spit slowly. Ladybug bites her lip, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.
Ladybug twists against her bonds, the rope biting into her skin. The heat is unbearable—she cries out, voice raw, but the walls swallow her sound. The Cannibal watches, savoring her suffering, his hunger palpable.
"Please... someone help..." she whispers, her strength fading, hope dwindling with every turn of the spit.
The Cannibal approaches, carving knife glinting in the firelight. He slices pieces from Ladybug's limp form, eating with deliberate, measured bites. Her body, once vibrant and heroic, now hangs lifeless over the dying coals.
"Even legends can be consumed," he says quietly, as the city outside sleeps, utterly unaware of the fate that befell its guardian.
