Ladybug paces along a deserted rooftop, eyes narrowed, her red-and-black suit almost blending with the night. There is a strange hush in the air—a sense of being watched. A flicker of movement below catches her attention, but when she peers over the edge, nothing stirs except the shadows themselves.
Ladybug slips inside, heart pounding. She follows the faint scent of smoke and something acrid, her yo-yo clutched tight. Suddenly, the air shifts—a net snaps around her, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggles as a figure emerges from the darkness, tall and sinewy, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.
Ladybug[/@ch_1].]
The Cannibal circles her, savoring her fear. "What do you want from me?" Her voice trembles despite her resolve. "Paris may love its heroes, but tonight, I feast on legend," comes the reply, voice low and chilling. The cannibal's gaze lingers, hungry and unhurried.
Ladybug[/@ch_1] is hoisted, her body trembling with both cold and dread.]
Ladybug tries to wriggle free, tears streaking her cheeks as the heat grows closer. "Please, you don't have to do this. There must be another way!" The cannibal only smiles, running a finger along her jaw in a mockery of tenderness. "There is only hunger," he whispers, almost gently.
Ladybug[/@ch_1]'s cries fade to quiet sobs.]
The cannibal watches, eyes alight with satisfaction. Ladybug hangs limp, her strength ebbing, her mind drifting between pain and memories of hope. The city outside remains oblivious, its hero suffering in silence.
The cannibal sits beside the fire, slowly carving into the remains of Ladybug, savoring each bite. Outside, the first light of dawn touches the rooftops of Paris, unaware of the darkness that has claimed one of its own.
