On the fifteenth day of every month, he would hold me in his arms, whisper loving words into my ear, and at the same time transfer all the violent evil energy in his body to me.
It rips out the heart and bites the bones, and the pain makes one wish to live.
I was like a rag doll, tortured by him and then treasured by him.
He loved me pathologically, built a golden cage for me, and cut off all my connections with the outside world.
He said that I was his only moon and the antidote to his survival.
He thought I was the canary in his palm, fragile, submissive, and unable to live without him.
He doesn't know that those evil spirits that can't kill me have been tamed by me into the sharpest knives.
When his power collapsed and he knelt in front of me, begging me to save him one more time with red eyes.
I just touched his handsome but twisted face and smiled softly.
"My lord, the antidote... Will also expire."
Now, it's your turn to taste the backlash of power.
