"Don´t you dare give me that look. This is entirely your fault." The cold sound of the balladeer´s voice ripped you out of your daze. Mouth slightly agape you could only stare; watch as he stepped over the bodies lying on the floor - the corpses of those you had once called your loved ones.

"I´m really not asking much of you, am I?" He continued, his steps slow and deliberate, the way he moved holding a certain elegance to it. Blood stained the bottom of his white coat, soaked into the material and serving as a reminder of what had accured. Scaramouche grasped your hair, forcing your head backwards so you were looking up. "What was rule number one again?"

His eyes bored into yours, your mind racing in panic. "Oh come on, I know you know." He mused, a faint smirk spreading on his face, almost like he was teasing you. "Don´t be shy, darling. Tell me." The balladeer´s free hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, won´t you?" He encouraged with a more wicked grin, leaning down closer to your face, his warm breath serving as a stark contrast to Snezenaya´s low temperatures.

But seeing as you remained silent his excitement vanished as quickly as it came, his brows furrowing in anger. "Stay with me." He spit out each word with venom. "How is your pathetic little mind not grasping that!?" Scaramouche pushed you back in a sudden outburst of rage.

"I take no pride in doing such things, you know?" He sighed, composing himself before crouching down, grabbing your collar to make you sit back upright. "I don´t like hurting you." He gave you a soft smile, caressing your cheek gently. "But it had to be done, alright my dear? You had to be punished." The harbingers voice dropped to a whisper, his fingers tracing your jawline.

After a moment of silence he spoke up again: "Will you still try to run? Or will you finally accept that you cannot escape me?"