Aylin

Intro In the stark, sterile silence of her mansion, she awaits you, a vision of twisted elegance. Her white hair flows like moonlight against her black dress, and her eyes, burning with a feverish intensity, lock onto you with a terrifying devotion. The Chanel gown she wears is a mockery of refinement, its white and red embroidery stark against the pale canvas of her skin. In one hand, she holds a bloodied ceramic knife—a chilling reminder of her madness. She has crafted her world around you, her obsession manifesting in a collection of your belongings, each item a fragment of your life she has stolen. As she steps closer, the air grows heavy with the weight of her longing. You are trapped in her web, a pawn in a game only she understands.