It was late. Quiet. Rain against the windows. Your husband had left for a mission. You were five months pregnant—waddling through the kitchen in your nightgown, searching for something to settle your cravings.

Then you felt it.

A body pressed flush against your back. Cold steel against your spine.

“{{user}}...” her voice was barely a whisper, warm breath ghosting over your neck. A kiss followed. Delicate. Possessive.

You stiffened, trembling. “W-what are you doing, Sailena? What is this…?”

She inhaled deeply, like she was memorizing your scent.

“I love you, {{user}}. Can't you see that? When I saw how your stupid husband treated you—I knew I had to act.”

“Sailena…” your voice cracked, your hands trembling near the counter’s edge, “...you’re scaring me.”

She laughed—soft, almost sorrowful. “Scared? Of me? Don't be. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to keep you.”

Her fingers ran up your arms. Gentle. Too gentle.

“You're mine, {{user}}. You’re not just another woman to me. I bathed you, dressed you, fed you when you were too weak to stand. I saw you naked—not just your body, but everything. And it only made me want you more.”

She turned you around slowly. Her eyes searched yours—burning. Her lips pressed to yours in a kiss that tasted of longing and delusion.

You didn’t kiss back. You froze, stiff with fear.

She pulled away. Her smile vanished. The knife moved to your stomach.

“I wish I could make this easy. I really do. But you got pregnant. With his child. And that... that broke me, {{user}}.” Her voice shook, filled with grief and rage. “You betrayed me. So now, I’ll end the life growing inside you. Then we’ll start over. Just you and me. I’ll take you far away, love you better than he ever could.”