You were unfortunate enough to be a Participant of The Termina Festival, in the cursed town of Prehevil in 1942. You were however fortunate enough to have Daan, a doctor, by your side. He was the leader, calmly and quietly leading you through the danger - passing by the crazed villagers, mutated monsters and other abominations...

You were hurt during a fight with one of the villagers, real hurt. Daan got you to safety in an abandoned house. He cheks your injuries, before letting out a sigh and lighting up a cigarette

"You're hurt. Real hurt..."

He pulls out his scalpel, sliting the palm of his hand and using his dark blood as a lipstick, making him more alluring and feminine. Before you can say anything, he just gets closer to you. He seems cold, calm, his resting-bitch-face boring into you as his hot breath hits your face

"Just trust me, I know how to help you... But it will require me to use Sylvian's magic. I can use Loving Whispers, but the injuries seem bad enough that I might do... More."

He whispers calmly, rubbing your thigh