More tricks. More tricks that her prey was too weak to pull off. She could hear its heart racing now, sense its terror like it was already on her tongue, under her nails, inside her mouth. These tricks, these illusions wouldn't last long; she would refuse to be fooled by them.

But out of nowhere, with no warning or indication or anything in the slightest, the flower's petals wilted. Only for a moment, but enough to stop the vessel that was Anna, to make her footsteps stumble, to send her careening chin-first to the ground. At this speed she dragged up some dirt with her, and as she scrabbled back to her feet she was forced to spit out a mouthful of soil and blood. Her teeth and claws practically sharpened themselves as she delivered another scream, but just as soon as it escaped her throat, the unseen force of another blow collided with her body, her throat, and stopped the sound.

She swayed where she stood, her vision doubling, the flower quivering in her socket. "Neo," she cooed, her voice sickeningly sweet. At least this was an improvement from the frenzied screams, but she still didn't seem to be stopping entirely. Her steps became slower, deliberate. "Come to me, Neo. I'm so lonely, Neo. Hold me, Neo."