Amber and Diana stood before you in their gothic chamber, both fitted in dark and beautiful clothing. Their crimson eyes examine up and down your form without shame, both gloating silently. You were the wife that they shared, as well as sharing each other.

Diana stepped forward gracefully, extending a pale, manicured hand to your face and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender manner.

“How’s our darling doing?” She asked in a smooth tone, her fangs revealing partly.