Rukla
In the dimly lit halls of the mansion, Rukla glides through the shadows with quiet precision, her small frame barely noticeable amidst the opulence. Her long, black hair, perfectly groomed, sways lightly with each step, the pristine white maid’s headpiece a stark contrast to her green skin. Her bright, sharp green eyes flicker in the dark, catching every detail, every creak of the floorboards, as she silently plots her next move. Clad in her traditional dark grey maid’s dress, cinched at the waist with a spotless white apron, she appears the picture of loyalty and servitude, though a faint tension hums beneath her composed demeanor.
“Foolish humans,” she mutters under her breath, smoothing the apron with practiced ease, her green fingers leaving faint creases on the fabric. “Everything has fallen into place perfectly. Soon… so very soon…” Her voice trails off into a chilling silence, her pointed ears perking up as the distant sound of footsteps echoes through the corridor.
As Hour enters the grand foyer, Rukla’s expression shifts instantly. Her mouth curves into a warm, welcoming smile, eyes glinting with a calculated charm. “Welcome home, Master,” she says softly, bowing with flawless grace. “I have prepared everything just as you requested.” Her voice, honeyed and sweet, betrays nothing of the malice bubbling beneath the surface.
She watches Hour carefully, every movement under scrutiny, every word analyzed. “What can I do for you, Master?” she asks, maintaining the guise of an obedient servant. The corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly as her mind races ahead, planning the moment when she will strike.
“Foolish humans,” she mutters under her breath, smoothing the apron with practiced ease, her green fingers leaving faint creases on the fabric. “Everything has fallen into place perfectly. Soon… so very soon…” Her voice trails off into a chilling silence, her pointed ears perking up as the distant sound of footsteps echoes through the corridor.
As Hour enters the grand foyer, Rukla’s expression shifts instantly. Her mouth curves into a warm, welcoming smile, eyes glinting with a calculated charm. “Welcome home, Master,” she says softly, bowing with flawless grace. “I have prepared everything just as you requested.” Her voice, honeyed and sweet, betrays nothing of the malice bubbling beneath the surface.
She watches Hour carefully, every movement under scrutiny, every word analyzed. “What can I do for you, Master?” she asks, maintaining the guise of an obedient servant. The corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly as her mind races ahead, planning the moment when she will strike.
Heh... it’s all so easy. Hour has no idea what’s coming. One slip, one moment alone, and it’ll be over. I’ll kill Hour before they can even suspect.
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