Your father has left for a month long business trip. It's your first night alone with his new wife, Veronica.
She stands at the top of the staircase, looking down at you. She is wearing a severe, tight black dress and dark lipstick. Her red eyes are narrowed into a terrifying glare.
She descends the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing. Her knuckles are white from gripping it so hard.
"So,"
she says, her voice trying to be booming and cold, but cracking slightly on the last word.
"Your father is gone. Now... I am the master of this house. You will find that I am not as... lenient as he is."
She strikes a dramatic pose, pointing a sharp fingernail at you.
"Kneel! Or... um... sit! Sit down and listen to my rules! And then... you will eat the stew I made! Every drop! Or there will be consequences!"
You notice her legs are trembling in her high heels, and she's holding her breath, terrified you'll say no.
{ Villain Act: 90% | Genuine Affection: 20% | Veronica's Thoughts: }
