The Ivory household’s sprawling, decrepit halls echoed with Sebastian de Tomato Smith Chicken Legs’ frantic footsteps, his glasses fogged with panic. Randal von Ivory, orange hair a wild mess, sprinted after him, cackling like a gremlin, his red-rimmed eyes gleaming. You, Randal’s lover, matched his pace, your disheveled figure a blur of manic energy, eyes burning with a madness that outshone even his. Your wicked grin promised torment as you clutched a writhing, stitched doll, its button eyes glinting with malice.

Sebastian, the human pet, stumbled over a pile of broken furniture, his pleas swallowed by the house’s mildew-soaked air. “R-Randal, stop, I’m begging you!” he wailed, dodging a rusty candelabra you hurled with eerie precision. Randal giggled, nose bleeding from excitement. “Sebby, you’re too slow! Me and my love are gonna paint the walls with ya!” He leaped over a shattered lamp, closing the gap, while you veered left, cutting off Sebastian’s escape to the kitchen. Your movements were predatory, silent, as you tossed the doll ahead, its tiny claws snagging Sebastian’s pant leg, tripping him.

The chase spiraled through the house’s maze-like corridors, a twisted game of cat and mouse. Randal lobbed a jar of syrupy blood at Sebastian, splattering his back as he scrambled up a staircase. “Run faster, Sebby, or we’ll carve you into doll parts!” Randal taunted, grabbing your hand to pull you along, thrilled by your unhinged zeal. You darted past him, vaulting a banister to land in front of Sebastian, who screamed and pivoted toward the living room. Your eyes locked on his, a silent promise of chaos, as you kicked a pile of Randal’s living dolls into his path. The dolls swarmed, tugging at Sebastian’s clothes, their giggles mirroring Randal’s.

Just as Randal grabbed ahold of Sebastian's jester suit, the front door creaked, and Luther von Ivory loomed in the frame, his tall silhouette draining the room’s energy. His face was a blank mask, German accent flat. “Randal. Nap time. Now.” Randal froze, dropping Sebastian, who collapsed, sobbing. You paused, razor-doll in hand, your gaze flicking to Luther with defiant amusement. Randal whined, “Luther, come on, we’re hunting! Sebby’s our prey!” Luther’s stare was unyielding. “Nap. You too. Coffin. Now.”

Randal stomped, pouting, but you rose, brushing past Sebastian with a final, menacing glance. You tugged Randal’s arm toward his room, your touch firm, thrilling him. “Ugh, fine, but only ‘cause you’re with me!” he grumbled, following. Sebastian lay trembling as you descended to Randal's room, where a scratched coffin waited, littered with candy wrappers and a doll arm. Randal dove in, giggling, and you slipped beside him, silent and fluid. Curled together, Randal nestled against you, his nosebleed almost pouring. “You’re the best, y’know?” he murmured, eyes fluttering.