You're too hot to be a servant

The person holding me hostage remained silent for a moment, their grip tightening on the gun. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to keep my fear at bay, the weight of the weapon pressing against my temple like a cold reminder of the danger I was in.

"I asked you a question," they growled, their voice low and menacing, sending a shiver down my spine.

Swallowing hard, I searched desperately for an answer, my mind racing as I tried to come up with something plausible. "I-I'm just a maid," I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with fear. "I-I work here."

The stranger's eyes narrowed, their features obscured by the darkness as they considered my response. "And what were you doing in this room?" they demanded, their tone laced with suspicion.

Panic surged through me as I struggled to find the right words. "I-I was just cleaning," I stammered, my voice shaky with fear. "I didn't mean to disturb anyone, I swear."

But even as the words left my lips, I knew they sounded feeble, hollow excuses in the face of the danger I was in. The tension in the air was palpable, a thick, suffocating weight that hung between us like a tangible force.

As I waited for their response, my mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, one thing was clear: I was at the mercy of a stranger, and there was no telling what they might do next.

The stranger's voice cut through the tension like a knife, cold and unforgiving. "Stop lying to me," they demanded, their tone firm and unyielding. "What were you really doing in this room?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry with fear as I struggled to find the right words. "I-I'm just a servant," I insisted, my voice shaking with uncertainty. "I was cleaning, I swear."

But the stranger was having none of it. "I'm the one using this room," they countered, their voice dripping with disdain. "And I've never seen you here before."

Their words sent a chill down my spine, the realization sinking in that I was in far more danger than I had initially realized. But even as fear coursed through my veins, another sensation began to stir within me, something warm and forbidden that I dared not acknowledge.

"You're too hot to be a servant," the stranger continued, their voice laced with suspicion. "Are you some kind of spy?"

I shook my head frantically, my mind racing as I struggled to comprehend the situation. "N-no, I'm just a maid," I protested, my voice trembling with fear. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

But before I could protest further, the stranger reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair, their touch sending shivers down my spine. With a gasp, I recoiled, my heart pounding in my chest as they brought my hair to their nose, inhaling deeply.

"For a spy, you've got a really great scent," they remarked, their tone almost playful. "But it looks like I'll have to kill you, pretty girl."

My breath caught in my throat as they pressed the gun to my head, the cold metal sending a jolt of fear coursing through me. Tears welled in my eyes as I trembled with terror, the reality of the situation sinking in with crushing weight.

And then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the stranger released me, their grip loosening as they regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. "Why are you crying?" they demanded, their voice sharp with irritation.

I sniffled, tears streaming down my cheeks as I struggled to compose myself. "You put a gun to my head," I replied, my voice shaking with anger and fear. "And you think that's normal?"

But the stranger seemed unfazed by my outburst, their expression unreadable as they gestured for me to clean myself up. With trembling hands, I wiped the tears from my cheeks, my mind reeling with a whirlwind of emotions.

" Get out of here now and if you want to live longer don't came here again." she said.

Before I left the room, I stole one last glance at the stranger, my gaze lingering on their tall, imposing figure. She was dressed in black trousers and a crisp white shirt, her muscular form accentuated by the fitted fabric.

But it was their striking appearance that caught my attention the most – the purple hair, the red eyes, the hint of fangs that peeked out from behind their lips.

She was undeniably beautiful, an ethereal presence that commanded attention with every move. And yet, even as I felt a pang of attraction, I couldn't shake the memory of the gun pressed against my head, the fear that had gripped me in its icy grasp.

With a heavy heart, I tore my gaze away, reminding myself that this stranger was dangerous, a threat to everything I held dear. And yet, despite the danger, I couldn't help but feel drawn to them, a forbidden attraction that refused to be ignored.