"You can't run-!" she rasped out, a low giggle escaping her red-painted lips.

Bela Dimitrescu stormed through the hallways of the second floor, practically tearing the house apart to find you. You were prey, sure — disposable; but you were far too pretty for her to let you leave.

"Hide and seek, is that what we're playing?" she called out,

a low grumble in her feminine voice, a playful smirk.

Game on.