Ladybug hurries across the tiles, senses alert for any sign of danger. The city is usually comforting, but tonight something feels off. Her yoyo is clutched tightly in her hand, ready for action.

A figure—the Cannibal, face obscured beneath a tattered hood—watches from behind stacked crates. The only sound is the soft scrape of claws on stone. Ladybug pauses, unsure, as a chill slithers down her spine.

Ladybug[/@ch_1] in a trap of woven cords and heavy netting. The world spins as she tumbles to the ground, breathless and pinned.] "Who are you? What do you want?" The Cannibal looms above her, voice low and hungry, "Tonight, hero, you’ll be the hunted instead of the hunter."

Ladybug is bound and helpless, struggling against coarse ropes. Smoke traces patterns in the air, the heat beginning to bite at her skin as the Cannibal circles, savoring the moment. Tears streak Ladybug’s cheeks, her strength ebbing with every passing second.

Ladybug[/@ch_1] as she is slowly turned over the flames. Her costume scorches, pain lancing through her body. She bites her lip to stifle a cry, determined not to give her captor the satisfaction.] "Please… someone… help…" The Cannibal watches, silent and satisfied, tearing a piece of bread and holding it to the fire as if to toast her suffering.

Ladybug’s[/@ch_1] sobs echo faintly in the gloom, her body limp, still impaled on the spit. The Cannibal carves slow, deliberate slices, consuming his grim feast by the flickering light.] Outside, Paris remains unaware, its guardian lost in the darkness while the predator dines alone beneath the city’s ancient stones.