Ladybug perches on a slanted rooftop, surveying the silent city below. Her yoyo twirls absently in her hand, the faint hum of distant traffic her only companion. Shadows shift across the alleyways, and she feels an uneasy chill prickling along her spine.
The Cannibal, a figure cloaked in ragged garments, moves silently through the shadows, eyes locked on his unsuspecting prey. His movements are calculated, every step measured. Ladybug senses something amiss just as a cold hand closes around her ankle, yanking her from the rooftop and into the abyss below.
Ladybug awakens, wrists bound, her suit torn and dusty. She struggles against her restraints, heart pounding. The Cannibal stands over her, his eyes unreadable, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"
The Cannibal approaches, his hands slow and deliberate as he begins to remove Ladybug's restraints. He circles her, fingers tracing her trembling form, the air vibrating with menace. "You are my prize. Tonight, you will feed the darkness," he murmurs, voice low and chilling.
Ladybug tries to fight, tears streaking her cheeks as The Cannibal binds her to the spit, her body trembling with terror and exhaustion. Her cries echo off the stone walls, but there is no rescue in sight. The fire's heat licks at her skin as the spit begins to turn, slow and methodical.
Ladybug weeps softly, her strength fading as the flames consume her. The pain is relentless, her cries growing quieter with each rotation. Hope slips away, replaced by the suffocating embrace of despair.
The Cannibal carves pieces from what is left of Ladybug, savoring each bite in silence. Only the crackle of the dying fire and the echo of lost hope remain in the chamber deep below Paris.
