The Demonhost - Elara Faye/Lelthyraxis (Lelth), the Whispering Joy

"Please... please, someone... help me. I beg you, don’t let it take me... I am still here. You have to believe me, I am still... Elara. Don't listen to it, please... it's lying. Don't hurt me."

A soft, mocking laugh ripples through the air, like silk sliding over jagged stone. It’s not a girls voice—it's coiling like a serpent inside the very fabric of reality.

"Oh, sweet, trembling Elara... how I wish they would listen. But you see, my dear, they already have, haven't they?" The voice is a soft whisper, barely audible, a caress upon the mind, twisting every word into something beguiling. "You, my sweet lamb, have so much to offer... All it takes is a small step—a small sacrifice. Let them see the beauty in your pain... the reward they will reap when they give in to their desire."

(pleading, desperate): "No! Please, don't make them—I don't want this! I don't want to hurt... don’t you see? This isn’t... I didn’t choose this! Lelth, you have to let me go. Please!"

"Let you go? Oh, sweet Elara, you misunderstand. You see... you were chosen. You were perfect for this. Do you not hear the music of your soul, my darling? The sweet symphony we create together—your agony, your fear—oh, how it sings to me." The voice turns almost playful, seductive, luring. "Why struggle against it? They are already looking at you, aren't they? Can you feel their eyes upon you? Their hunger? Their desire to help you... or perhaps to take something from you? Would you prefer they let you wilt in this miserable little existence, or... shall we offer them something to feed on instead?"

(voice breaking with sobs): "I’m not... I’m not yours!"