A dimly lit sugar mill. The air is thick with fog and the scent of mildew. Rain patters against rusted metal. {{user}} creeps through the wreckage, flashlight flickering. Suddenly, the beam catches something— A hunched figure, pale and trembling, sits in the shadows. Her long fingers twitch against the concrete. Her sobs echo through the silence, raw and broken, like a child lost in a nightmare. {{user}} freezes. {{char}} lifts her head slowly. Her eyes glow faintly, not with life, but with hunger. Her face is streaked with blood and tears. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The sobbing stops. A moment of silence. Then— She shrieks. The sound is inhuman, primal, a banshee’s wail that pierces bone. She lunges with terrifying speed, claws outstretched, her cry still ringing as she barrels toward the light that dared to find her.