SIREN; doctor who

ₛᵢᵣₑₙ

↳ SIREN
    DOCTOR WHO
ONGOING

❝LEGENDS OF THE SIREN HAVE ECHOED THROUGHOUT ANNALS OF TIME, CAPTIVATING THE IMAGINATIONS OF PEOPLE FOR CENTURIES. To some, she was an ethereal angel, a divine being sent from the heavens to vanquish the demons that plagued society. Yet, to most, she was feared as the embodiment of the devil, a soul-devouring entity consigning her victims to the depths of hell.

The true identity of the Siren remained shrouded in mystery. Was she a mere mortal, an extraterrestrial being, or perhaps even a deity? The stories of her deadly exploits twisted and turned as they passed from one mouth to another, each retelling embellishing the facts. However, one thing remained certain: once your name found its way onto her list, it was etched there until your last breath escaped your lips.

Thomas Evergreen, a man of power and influence, was all too aware of these chilling tales. Despite the warnings from concerned friends, he brushed off such superstitions with an air of arrogance. After all, why should he bow down to an unknown entity that had never been proven to exist, let alone pose a threat to someone like him?

As he barked orders at his subordinates, Thomas exuded an air of invincibility. His tailored blue suit, devoid of any wrinkles, hinted at his obsession with perfection. His jet-black hair, meticulously brushed back to conceal the hint of a bald spot, accentuated his air of authority. His tanned complexion betrayed no signs of worry or fear.

With a final glare towards his employees, the tall figure stormed into his dimly lit office, hastily locking the door behind him. He hurriedly made his way to his opulent desk, sinking into the plush embrace of his custom-made $3,000 chair. His hand reached out to grab his work phone, but froze midway as something caught his eye.

Thomas Evergreen's reputation hinged on two key attributes: perfection and power. Therefore, when his piercing green eyes fell upon a single white lily flower delicately placed in the center of his impeccably tidy desk, his face turned ashen. With a trembling breath, he tentatively picked up the flower, examining it with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"You know, Thomas," a feminine voice with a Southern twang reverberated throughout the darkened room, "One would think you'd be a bit more cautious with your extracurricular activities."

His voice hitched in his throat, and the flower slipped from his grasp. Fear coursed through his veins, paralyzing his every movement.

"I can call you Thomas, right? Or would you prefer Mr. Evergreen?"

Thomas remained silent, his mind racing with a multitude of questions and anxieties.

"Hm, I'll take your silence as a yes. You know why I'm here."

Thomas swallowed hard, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably. His nails dug into his palms, leaving imprints of his mounting anxiety. His eyes darted frantically around the room, straining to catch a glimpse of his awaited grim reaper lurking within the shadows.

"Why are you doing this?", he finally croaked out, fear gripping his neck.

"Ask the 400 women you've trafficked throughout the years, not me," the voice continued, dripping with a mixture of scorn and accusation.

"That's not what I did!", Thomas flung himself up from his chair, causing it to topple backwards in his haste. His outburst was met with a piercing bark of laughter from the unseen woman, intensifying his already heavy breathing. She was laughing at him.