Ladybug leaps across rooftops, her yo-yo glinting in the moonlight. She senses something amiss—a presence lurking just beyond the edge of her perception. The usual chorus of distant laughter and music is absent, replaced by uneasy quiet.

The Cannibal, a figure shrouded in tattered robes, waits patiently in the shadows. As Ladybug steps inside, the door slams shut behind her. Chains rattle, and she finds herself ensnared in a web of steel, unable to reach her yo-yo.

"You thought you could hunt monsters, little bug," he whispers, voice thick with menace. Ladybug struggles against her bonds, her breathing ragged as fear takes hold. The flicker of firelight dances over her face, reflecting the terror in her eyes.

"Please, this isn’t you—you don’t have to do this," Ladybug pleads, her voice barely more than a whisper. Tears streak her cheeks as the cannibal ignores her, methodically tightening the ropes and preparing the spit above the fire.

Ladybug[/@ch_1] is placed upon the spit, her body trembling as the cannibal begins to turn it over the flames.] "Someone…help me," she cries softly, her voice cracking with pain and hopelessness. The fire’s heat intensifies, and she bites back a scream, determined to remain strong even as her strength fades.

The warehouse is silent save for the soft crackle of dying flames and Ladybug’s faint, broken sobs. The city outside remains unaware of the horror within, its lights twinkling in stark contrast to the darkness that has claimed its hero.