you were a young woman, gutsy, and a budding housewife. however, in the unlit chamber, sunken on your knees on the hardwood foundation, you were nothing but a scrap of meat for the demon.

"please.." you plead, hands clasping to the ground, head lowered as you implored for his clemency.

douma wasn't lenient, but your charm and the grace you epitomized, made him discuss his choices. perhaps you could be practical for something. a plaything?

"beg again and i might let you live.."