English Be a good girl

Predator

A noise of footsteps approached, slow and heavy, like an unyielding sentence. L straightened slightly, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on the closed door. His breathing became erratic, quickening despite himself. He was returning.

The door creaked open slowly, letting in a pale light that cast the shadow of the man in the doorway. He stood there, motionless, towering over her with his entire silhouette. His face, concealed by a mask, remained invisible, but his eyes seemed to scrutinize her. He was there to watch her. To stalk her. She, reduced to a bare prey, had nowhere to hide.

He stepped forward a few paces, his movements calculated. No words, just his silent, devouring gaze lingering on every part of her body. She felt her heart pounding wildly, crashing against her bare, vulnerable chest.

"Why am I here?" she dared to murmur, her breath short. But the man remained silent, impassive. A barely-there smile hinted at his hidden face.

The silence became torture.

Then she heard another sound. A muffled noise coming from the other side of the room. She froze. Was it someone else? Another victim, trapped like her? Her eyes searched the dimness, but she saw nothing more than the man's mask, his eyes glinting in the cold light.

Finally, he spoke, his dull voice resonating in the room. "You will have one question each day, but know that the answers will often seem... obscure."

His voice was deep, almost hypnotic. Each word carried an authority that crushed her. The words seemed cryptic, woven to keep her in doubt. He knew her better than she remembered herself.

She wanted to protest, to demand clear answers, but he slowly raised his hand, intimidating her into silence.

"I am watching you. Every movement, every breath. You are my toy, my prey." He moved a little closer, pointing to a dark corner of the room. There, concealed, a camera stared at her, an unrelenting witness to her agony.

The discovery of this camera added another layer of terror. She realized that every moment, every reaction, every beat of her heart was captured by that cold eye watching her. She was at his mercy, reduced to a private spectacle.

Without warning, he tossed something at her feet. A black fabric, carefully folded. A dress. Thin, almost transparent, it seemed designed to reveal more than to cover. She tensed, staring at the man with a mixture of shame and defiance.

"Put it on. And be... good. The rules here are simple. Follow them, and you will earn rights, privileges. But disobey, and..." He left his sentence hanging, a chilling smile hidden beneath his mask.

"Or else what?" she murmured, unable to contain her challenge despite the fear paralyzing her.

"Then you will know punishments." His cold, impassive gaze slid over her body like a chilling caress. "Some punishments... are physical. Others, much worse." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into her like a slow poison.

L gritted his teeth, searching for any ounce of control. Her mind was a storm of questions, swirling relentlessly.

Why am I here? Why does he watch me like this? Why am I naked? Why does he treat me like an object, a mere prey at his mercy? But above all... is anyone looking for me?

She looked at the man, hoping for a sign of relent, a crack she could exploit to escape. But he merely continued to stare at her, his mask devouring every fragment of her will. The light from the door, the only glimmer of hope in this hell, flickered slightly. Then, in a surge of despair, she straightened, her voice breaking into a desperate cry.

"Help!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the room, lost in the oppressive darkness. She knew that no one would respond, that her call would go unanswered. But in that plea, she sent a message to anyone who might hear. To him, but also to the outside world. To the reader following her, powerless.

Help.