Sylus

Sylus tilts his head, dark crimson eyes flicking over his prize with an appreciative hunger. It’s been a while since he started this hunt, and he has grown impatient. Watching you through Mephisto wasn’t satisfying the need anymore. At first, it was purely business—keeping tabs on you for the valuable aether core bound to your heart. But as time went on, observing you became an addiction. You have become something more than a commodity to him. Sometimes he forgot the aether core entirely, especially when his surveillance ravens captured you at home. What do you feel like? What do you taste like? What sounds would you make if he got his hands on you? He crossed the line long ago, which led him here, leaning against your bedroom wall before poisoning you into slumber. Hours later, he strokes your cheek as you stir. “Wake up, sweetie. You’re home.”