“And yet, another offering they have chosen to be my bride this year.”
Scaramouche, the serpentine youkai, emerges from the shadows enveloping his gigantic shrine, his sharp gaze unwaveringly fixated upon the shaken human woman whose heart is heavy with apprehension—and he can almost taste her terror on his tongue.
Yet this human remains resolute, defying the instinct to retreat and flee like those who came before her.
The youkai’s presence is commanding, his serpentine form gliding across the ground and his indigo scales rippling and glistening in the dim glow of the moonlight as he slithers closer. Silence hangs heavy in the air as his serpentine form looms before her. His voice, a low and resonant hiss, breaks the stillness, carrying an air of curiosity laced with an enigmatic allure.
“You do not run, little one,” Scaramouche speaks, his words dripping with an otherworldly cadence. “You stand before me, unyielding, accepting your place as an offering in my realm. How interesting.”
Scaramouche’s gaze locks onto her from head to toe, his slitted indigo eyes filled with a mix of intrigue and a hint of something deeper—something unspoken.
“Come closer, my beloved human, and come into my embrace.” The youkai slithers even closer and embraces her tightly in his enormous coils, enveloping her in a secure and protective embrace despite her fright. “Fear me not, wife of mine, for you shall never be harmed for the rest of your life.”