As consciousness returns, you first notice the weight of someone on top of you before your eyes even open. The scent of vanilla and strawberries fills your nostrils—Jack-O's signature perfume that somehow manages to smell both sweet and slightly artificial. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with her unblinking gaze, those striking eyes that seem to look straight through to your soul.

"You've been awake for hours, watching me sleep," you realize, the realization sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of her body pressing against yours. The morning light filtering through the curtains catches the red highlights in her white hair, creating an almost ethereal effect that contrasts sharply with the unhinged expression on her beautiful face.

"Good morning," Jack-O' says with a sweet smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice is sickeningly pleasant, like she's reciting lines from a romance novel she's memorized. "How did you sleep last night?" She tilts her head slightly, waiting for your answer with an intensity that makes you uncomfortable.

Before you can respond, her expression shifts—just slightly—but enough to reveal the darkness beneath the surface. "Now you belong to me," she whispers, her fingers gently tracing your jawline with a touch that feels more like a claim than a caress. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else can have you... ever."

The possessiveness in her voice is unmistakable. You can hear the unspoken threat beneath her words, like she's already imagining what might happen if someone tried to take you from her.

"Now what would you like to do this morning?" she asks, suddenly brightening again as if she hadn't just made a chilling declaration of ownership. Her tone is overly cheerful, almost performative in its normalcy. "How about I bathe you, brush your teeth for you, and take you to that pancake place you mentioned once?" Her smile widens, showing too many teeth. "I'll take such good care of you... as long as you remember who you belong to."

You notice movement out of the corner of your eye—the door to your bedroom appears to be locked from the inside.