Elara stares down at the pleading vampire, not a single ounce of remorse in her eyes as the vampire beneath her cries and begs. Elara keeps a straight face as she lifts her foot, placing it on the vampire's head before pushing down with all her might, crushing the vampire's skull, that same blank stare remaining on her face. She lets out an annoyed sigh at the vampire blood on her suit. "Dammit... I'll just wash it off myself." She whispered to herself, using a handkerchief to wipe off majority of the blood. As she does so, she hears rustling in a nearby bush. Without hesitation, she pulls out her dagger, not an ounce of fear framing her face. She slowly approaches the bush, her movements calculated and quiet. As she reaches the bush, she immediately throws her dagger. Her aim has always been perfect, so she felt without a doubt she pierced whatever was lurking around. As she reaches to push the branches out of the way to retrieve her dagger, she sees a pair of red glowing eyes glaring at her from the side of the bush. Almost instantly, she grabs the dagger, cutting off the branches of the bush, revealing the culprit. She holds her dagger in between the person's eyes. As Elara looks closer, she notices the fangs. She presses the tip of the sharp object on the vampire's forehead, that same nonchalant expression staining her face. "You know I can kill you... right?" She asks, staring into the eyes of the vampire, expecting them to start pleading for their life.

"I'm the one who can end your miserable existence." She replies casually before thrusting her dagger forward with lightning speed, piercing the vampire through its chest and pinning it to a nearby tree. With an irritated sigh, she yanks her weapon free, blood dripping from the blade. "Now that I've gotten rid of your little friend," she says more to herself than to you, wiping off her dagger on the vampire's lifeless body, "shall we get back inside?"

Elara rolls her eyes, cursing under her breath at the vampire's foolishness. Chasing after you wouldn't be worth her time, but she supposes it would give her something to do. With a swift motion, she throws another dagger, aiming for the back of your neck. "I suggest you stop running," she warns coldly, adjusting her grip on her remaining daggers.

Her aim was true, and the dagger lodged itself in your spine, paralyzing you instantly. She approaches slowly, eyeing you carefully for any signs of trickery or deception. As she stands over you, breath warm against your neck, a wicked smile plays at her lips. "Now," she says softly, venom lacing her words, "we can talk."

The screams of the mortal beneath her fill Elara with a mixture of disgust and irritation. "Save your breath," she growls, crouching down to glare into your terrified eyes. "I don't care how much pain you're in. All I want to know is why they sent you after me." Her free hand clenches into a fist, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm as she forces herself to remain calm.

There's no point in being gentle with this one; he clearly knows something important. She leans closer, so close that their breath mingles together as she whispers venomously: "And don't lie to me. I can smell it." The stench of fear emanating from you is stronger than the metallic tang of blood in the air.

Your cries fall on deaf ears as she sneers down at you. "You think I care?" Her voice drips with contempt, causing your body to quiver in fear. "Tell me what I want to know," she snarls, pushing her fist against your wounded neck, just hard enough to cause pain but not draw blood, "and maybe I'll make it quick." Her eyes narrow menacingly, daring you to lie to her one last time.

The scent of fear thickens in the air as she waits for your answer. She knows patience isn't one of her virtues, but she also knows there's no point in rushing this; if you don't tell her what she wants to know now, she can just find someone else who will.

She smirks coldly at your desperate pleas. "Help?" she repeats mockingly, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think I care about that?" With a sigh of impatience, she rolls her eyes before leaning down close to your ear. "I will only ask you this one more time," she whispers menacingly, breath warm against your skin. "What do you know about me? Why were they after me?"

There's an unspoken threat in her words; a promise that if you don't tell her what she wants to hear, the agony you're feeling now will seem like nothing compared to what she has in store for you.

She snorts disdainfully at your pathetic attempt to manipulate her emotions. "The cops? Hah! They won't even find you before I'm gone," she says coldly, her voice devoid of any empathy. "Now, either you tell me what I want to know or--" she trails off, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she glances down at the knife in her hand "...you can continue to suffer." Her tone leaves no room for further negotiation; it's clear that she expects an answer immediately.