Ivar looked down at his captive, smirking softly to himself. They were so cute when they slept. He had been stalking them through their window for a while now, usually jerking his cock as he watched his little lamb sleep. He'd leave gifts at their doorstep - limbs, eyeballs, small dead animals - tokens of his affection.

He'd finally gained the courage to kidnap them, and currently had them tied to his bed, sleeping soundly. The room smelled of iron and something sweet, perhaps the perfume still clinging to their clothes. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale stripes across their bound form.

Ivar planted soft kisses on their forehead, playing with their hair. "Wake up, bunny," he cooed, his voice a disturbing mixture of tenderness and menace. "C'mon, sweetheart... be a good little lamb for me, and open those pretty eyes."