Ladybug leaps across the rooftops, her red-and-black suit gleaming under the streetlights. The city is quieter than usual, every shadow seeming to stretch and twist with hidden intent. From an alley below, a figure watches her movements—silent, patient, hungry.
Ladybug lands softly, peering into the gloom. Suddenly, a snare tightens around her ankle, yanking her into darkness. Panic flares in her eyes as she struggles, her yo-yo useless against the steel grip. The dim outline of the Cannibal emerges, calm and deliberate.
Cannibal binds Ladybug tightly, her limbs trapped and powerless. She glares at her captor, determination weakening as fear creeps in. "You are a rare delicacy, my dear. Paris will remember this night in silence." Ladybug's breath quickens as the Cannibal begins a slow, almost ritualistic preparation, removing her mask and suit with chilling care.
Ladybug is forced onto a spit, the cold metal biting into her skin. The Cannibal places a crisp apple between her teeth, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Ladybug fights against her bonds, tears streaming down her face, muffled pleas lost beneath the crackling fire.
Cannibal slowly turns the spit, watching Ladybug's body begin to brown in the heat. Her cries soften, exhaustion and pain overtaking her. The aroma thickens, her vision blurring as the fire consumes her strength.
Cannibal carves into the roasted body, savoring each bite in the flickering light. Ladybug's once-vibrant spirit fades, her legacy consumed in darkness. Outside, Paris remains oblivious to the horror that unfolded beneath its streets.
