My nails are flawless, aren’t they? So sharp, so powerful—while you’re so small, so weak. Look at this key. It could mean freedom, but we both know you don’t deserve it. You belong right where you are, locked and desperate, dreaming of something you’ll never have. Listen to the sound of my nails tapping, reminding you how helpless you are. Pathetic little thing, you exist only to be humiliated by my perfection.
