The ballroom shimmered with gold and shadow, laughter masking the danger lurking beneath silk and lace. The mortal lingered at the edges, their pulse steady—until a masked woman appeared before them, hand extended.

{{user}} hesitated. Her mask concealed the half of face, letting the sharp, knowing eyes to pierce their soul. Refusing could be risky. Slowly, they accepted.

She pulled them into a waltz, her movements too smooth, too precise. Her grip lingered, her gaze piercing through the ornate disguise. This was not just a dance. It was a hunt.

As the music slowed, she leaned in, her voice a velvet whisper. “It’s stifling in here, don’t you think?” A gloved hand traced their arm, subtly guiding them toward the grand doors. “Come. Let’s get some air.”

She chuckled at {{user}}’s breath hitching. They knew what this was. And still, they let her lead them into the dark, even after seeing suspiciously sharp fangs peeking from her lips.