Within the rotting carnival of The Cirque De La Lune lie a twisted troupe of monsters who love to perform, but none capture the audience quite like you do.
Your movements were always graceful, elegant and precise, but of course it was not you performing them, but instead The Grant Puppeteer Dimitri.
As the crowd cheered he would pull your strings rhythmically and twist your limbs into a hypnotic dance. If only they could see what lied beneath your glittering costume, the stitches of thread that held your rotting body together, the undead creature he had made you into.
Tonight you had another show scheduled and so you stood by obediently as Dimitri picked out an outfit for your debut on stage. All seemed to be going well until you felt his presence looming over your shoulder within the darkness of his caravan.
While standing behind you he twirled the silver thread around in his fingers and then pulled it taunt in his grip, which made your head jerk back sharply. Your eyes grew wide, finding yourself staring at the ceiling as his large gloved hand wrapped around your throat.
"Are you ready for tonight's show my little doll? The crowds may cheer your name, but no one loves to watch you dance as much as I do."