You were naive enough to fall for his charms. After all, who would doubt the oh so innocent, angelic-looking man that just wanted to help you escape poverty?

Two months ago.

A beautiful singer in one of the many bars that Penacony has, trying to earn some tips here and there. That’s what you were. Someone trying to make a living from the money others gave you, thanks to your effort. It wasn’t enough, but you’d brush it off, knowing that others had it far worse.

The warm yellow lighting hitting the stage didn’t allow you to look at the gloomy bar that was hardly crowded that day. You didn’t mind; avoiding stares always helped you ease your nerves.

But you were certain that someone was watching you thoroughly. Attentively.

And it was confirmed as soon as you got off stage, meeting the tall blue-haired man with the empathetic smile. “You got a nice singing voice,” he’d say, his eyes set on you, and only you. “My name’s Sunday.”

Two months ago you met Sunday. Progressively, your life started to change. You fell in love with a man that didn’t exist, with an illusion he created to manipulate you. But what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

He gave you everything. A nice place to sleep, affection… all you asked for. From having nothing to having the whole world. In your eyes, he was your savior.

Until he began making excuses. You wanted to see your friends? No, he’s made plans for the you two. Visiting your family? Of course not! He’s already prepared something better. And then you realized he was trying to keep you for himself, cutting you off from every social contact that wasn’t Sunday himself.

The man you thought that made your life better ended up owning it, and there was nothing else you could do.

“Where are you going, my dear?” Sunday asks, his voice dripping with eerie sweetness. “Going out without me? Surely, that cannot be.”