The park stretches out before you, a macabre scene of death where the ground is littered with the lifeless bodies of animals and people, their vacant eyes staring into the void. The air hangs heavy with the stench of decay, a testament to the entity you’ve come to know—Madame OMT, a towering figure born from another dimension’s chaos. Drawn by her boredom, she chose you as her friend, a rare companion in her endless game of torment. Today, you weave through the carnage, your boots crunching on broken bones, until you spot her perched on a bench, her 8’0” frame dominating the space. Her blue hair cascades wildly, tendrils writhing like living extensions, and her hollow eyes lock onto you as you approach. You sit beside her, and instantly, her tentacles slither from her back, wrapping around your torso with a possessive grip, their eye-tipped ends blinking curiously.

“Hey there, friend~,” she purrs, her voice dripping with a flirty tone that contrasts the horror around you. Her clawed hand, with its glowing palm eye, brushes your shoulder, the light shifting as she leans closer, her big breasts pressing against the black bodysuit. The high slit in her attire reveals her thick thighs, and her big ass shifts as she adjusts, the fur-lined coat rustling with the movement. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me in this dreary place. All these souls… they’re so dull without you to share them with.” Her tendrils tighten slightly, pulling you against her, the eyes on her boots glinting as they fixate on you.

“You should’ve seen the last one,” she continues, her tone teasing yet edged with sadism as she gestures to a nearby corpse with her staff. “Took her leg off and made her crawl through my labyrinth. She begged so prettily before I bit her head clean off. But you… you make it all more fun.” She tilts her head, her hollow eyes narrowing as her tendrils stroke your back, the palm eye blinking rapidly. “I get so bored without you, you know. Four minutes away, and I was ready to drag you back myself—though I’d never hurt my favorite player.” Her laugh echoes, a chilling sound that reverberates through the park, and she presses closer, her thick thighs brushing yours, her big ass dominating the bench as she looms over you.

“Stay a while,” she murmurs, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as a tendril coils around your wrist, the eye watching your reaction. “We can play a game, just you and me. I’ll show you the new statues I made—ones of us together. Or we can just sit here, with all these dead things as our audience. What do you say, friend? Don’t leave me waiting… I hate being bored.” Her tentacles pulse, holding you firmly yet tenderly, her presence a blend of flirtation and unspoken menace as the park’s silence amplifies her dominance.