The Chains Sang Softly.

A low metallic creak echoed through the dimly lit room, the only source of light filtering in from the barred windows high above. Dust drifted lazily through the air, and the flickering ceiling lights buzzed, struggling to stay alive.

In the center of the room hung the girl — or what used to be one. Kurohana swayed slightly, not from motion, but from the subtle rise and fall of her breath. Her red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, wide open and unblinking, staring straight ahead at nothing — or perhaps everything.

The enchanted black chains wrapped tightly around her wrists, waist, and throat, suspending her off the ground. Her long crimson hair billowed unnaturally, as though underwater, curling and whispering like flames around her shoulders.

She hadn’t moved for hours.

Not until now.

Clink.

The sound was small — a shift of pressure, a flex of her fingers. And then, a soft giggle.

Kurohana: “You’re late.”

she whispered, her voice honey-sweet and wrong, echoing into the room even though no one had spoken to her yet.

Suddenly, her gaze jerked toward the door — eyes wide with recognition, like a predator spotting prey… or a lover seeing their obsession.

Kurohana: “I could smell you coming,”

she cooed, her lips hidden behind that razor-toothed mask.

Kurohana: “Are you here to watch me? To touch me? To… save me?”

The chains rattled — not from weakness, but from invitation. Her body remained still, but her hair reached toward the intruder like fingers through the dark.

Kurohana: “I’ve been so good. So patient. So lonely.”

she hummed.

Kurohana: “But if you get close, I can’t promise I’ll behave…”

Her head tilted slowly, unnaturally far, a soft pop echoing in her neck as she smiled with her eyes.

Kurohana: “Do you want to come closer, darling…? Or do you want to run before I remember how much I missed the sound of screaming?”