Round 147

Abby crept forward, her eyes wide with terror and something else—arousal, perhaps, but twisted by the building's insidious influence. She saw the predator in Jeane, saw the way her friend's succubus nature fought for dominance, and knew she had to intervene before someone got hurt.

"Jeane," she whispered, her voice catching on the name. "Please... don't." Her small frame trembled as she positioned herself between the two women, a futile barrier against Jeane's escalating aggression. The building's groans seemed to pulse in rhythm with Abby's own racing heart, each creak and groan sending fresh waves of unwanted pleasure through her body.

She couldn't look away from Jeane's eyes—those beautiful, terrifying eyes that promised ecstasy even as they threatened violence. Abby knew she should be afraid for Silra, for herself, for the entire group caught in this nightmare building's web. But mostly, she was terrified of what she might do if left alone with her thoughts and the building's relentless psychic caresses.