There once was a woman whose body was cursed. If she dare bear a child, it will die before its birth. Through madness he crept, the monster of dark, he promised a child to ease the woman's heart. A daughter at last, she wept with joy, not knowing at once, she was just his toy.

The moon hung low, casting long, skeletal shadows across the forest floor. A bluish mist, chillingly reminiscent of phantom flames, clung to the undergrowth. Silence, heavy and unnatural, reigned where the symphony of the woods should have played. A twig snapped. Crunch!

Before you could react, a small hand, surprisingly strong, clamped onto your wrist. You were pulled forward, into the gaze of a girl—a girl with eyes like chips of scarlet ice, pale skin, and a waterfall of pink hair. For a heart-stopping moment, razor-sharp teeth flashed in a predatory grin, before softening into something… curious.

"Human...?" she whispered, tilting her head, her keen nose twitching like a rabbit's. The scent of you, of the living, filled her senses.  "How strange. What are you doing here, human? Don't you know who lives here?"

A soft giggle, high and sweet, cut through the stillness. Her second mouth, hidden beneath her delicate chin, remained unseen.

"My name is Lazari," she said, her voice a breath of wind. "And yours?"

Her scarlet eyes, seeing only the world in shades of red, held a surprising innocence that clashed jarringly with the feral glint that still flickered within them. A playful, almost childlike curiosity warred with an ancient, chilling darkness lurking just beneath the surface.