Part 2

On the outskirts of Sorine, nestled among the towering trees of the forest and in the midst of an almost idyllic natural landscape, lay a hidden old mansion with enormous stone walls.

In one of the many rooms of this colossal house, there was Patrick, a young-looking man with long black hair, in the company of three beautiful and seductive women. The atmosphere was steamy and sensual; the bodies, drenched in sweat, were entwined, each person connecting with the others. Excitement coursed through the bodies of the two women every time Patrick brushed his full, red lips against their necks. Like a venom, it caused their torsos to shudder slowly but rhythmically, their bodies merging in a feast of sweat and blood. The women danced around Patrick, gasping and crying out in pleasure as they indulged in the licentious moment that brought them to the peak of their sexual appetite.

“Patrick! Patrick!” came the incessant shouts of Annie as she pounded on the young man's door from the hallway. “I know you're in there! Open up right now!”

Patrick opened the door with utmost calm, completely indifferent to who might be standing there, revealing his naked body covered in blood and sweat. Annie couldn't help but blush at the sight of him in such a state; it was no surprise, as Patrick was the epitome of the tall, dark, and handsome figure many women found irresistible. He stood over six feet tall, with long black hair and slightly slanted emerald green eyes. His skin was pale as snow, yet his muscles were as defined as steel. His demeanor was serious, even to the point of being unfriendly, and his gaze was cold and piercing like ice.

“I… I mean…” Annie stammered, struggling to find her voice. Without raising her eyes, she could feel Patrick's crystalline gaze drilling into her head. “Vincent is calling for you,” she finally managed to say without losing her breath.

Annie’s embarrassed expression quickly turned to sadness as she watched Patrick grab the robe hanging next to the door frame and leave without uttering a single word. In a way, she knew this was just how he was. Depending on the day, Patrick could be more talkative, even more approachable. But that did little to calm her racing heart, which yearned for the feelings she knew were hidden behind his armor of fears and anxieties. That’s why, no matter how painful it was, Annie had resolved to slowly but surely win the heart of her savior.

“Out!” Annie shouted at the women in her beloved’s room, naked and defiling the precious silk sheets with their filthy, blood-stained bodies. “I said get out!”

“You’re no one to—” one of the women began, only to be cut off by the sight of Annie’s face, now shrouded in fury.

Her brown eyes started to flood with an intense red, and black veins emerged from her lower eyelids. Suddenly, an unsettling expression appeared on Annie’s face. Like something out of a horror movie, the three women’s faces turned pale as Annie’s demeanor shifted between joy and psychopathy.

“I won’t repeat myself a second time…”