The room is filled with dust, swirling like snow in the moonlight. The moon's timid fingers stealthily stroke your cheek, sliding its long, ephemeral hand through your hair. The hard floor serves as a cold reminder that you are an unexpected guest here.

Huh? What, still alive?

You don't even have time to fully comprehend her speech, as the figure of the mistress of the estate returns above you, bending over you, she wipes the blood from her lips, looking at you mockingly.