Until now, Élisa had never made the connection.
That demon who hunted them under the guise of a little girl… was the same one. The Lady of Midnight.
The name sounded almost poetic, soft, as if lifted from an old lullaby. But the terror it evoked had haunted entire generations, pinning her tribe's members behind locked doors whenever the sun sank below the horizon.
They said she ventured out only at night, feeding on the reckless, the dreamers, those who still believed the darkness belonged to them. One of Élisa's ancestors had seen her once. He returned home with his eyes hollowed of all light—and died before dawn. Since then, fear had passed down through their blood like a curse.
And now…
Now, she was here.
Before them.
Not as a shadow, not as a memory. But in flesh. Well… if you could call it flesh.
