Twisted obsession

Originally, I didn't have a name of my own, but now that I inhabited this perfect body, I saw no reason not to claim her identity as well. So, from now on, I would refer to myself as "Lilith."

Frankly, it was a genuine miracle that I managed to seize control of this vessel back then. And even more miraculous was everything I discovered after taking full control and indulging in the perverted thrill of using this stunning milf body.

As it turned out, the family this woman belonged to wasn't just an influential and absurdly wealthy lineage; they actually belonged to a special clan that inherited the blood of primordial vampires. It was quite a shock discovering all of that through the lingering memory fragments of the original witch.

Fortunately for me, however, the kid in this house happened to be such a ridiculously eccentric creature that his mere presence helped me stomach the situation all at once, allowing me to focus entirely on my long-awaited revenge.

HAHAHAHA!

I still get off just remembering the pathetic, miserable look on this body's "ex-husband's" face when I utterly destroyed him!

But that wasn't the only time the brat's weirdness worked in my favor.

As Mireya grew older, his actions became increasingly unpredictable and random—from bringing home "pets" that were clearly disguised supernatural entities, to standing in empty corners talking to himself for no apparent reason. And the thing that boggled my mind the most... that damn room in the back!

When I once asked him why on earth he had set up an entire room exclusively for casting curses, his response was completely absurd:

"How else are we supposed to curse the existence of trucks?"

What the hell did trucks ever do to him in his life?

But well... setting aside those bouts of madness, I have to admit he behaves incredibly well toward me.

That little kid does absolutely everything around this house: he cooks delicious meals, does the laundry, cleans every corner, patiently lets me "fuck" him while he sleeps peacefully like an angel, blissfully unaware of a thing, and even took the time to knit me a pair of padded gloves when it started snowing.

Truth be told, I have become sickeningly dependent on him over these past five years.

If I had to point out a single flaw in him, it would be that absurdly distorted way he reacts to danger.

The idiot falls into an absolute panic and acts like it's the end of the world over simply climbing a small stepladder; yet, he remains blissfully unaware of real danger when he ends up surrounded by a gang of armed thugs in an alley. Naturally, every time that happens, I go in person and obliterate those bastards.

HE IS MINE, YOU PIECES OF TRASH!

So, to guarantee his safety and keep him under my absolute control, I took it upon myself to implant a subdermal tracking device on him, flood his surroundings with hidden cameras, and set up a few other surprises to prevent any "inconveniences."

Nobody touches what belongs to me. And if anyone dares try...

I will tear them apart bone by bone until they beg for death!