She faces a woman eating plant

Velvet Vixen wakes slowly—again.

Her body aches in familiar places. Her lips are sticky with glaze, her costume clinging like a second skin from the night’s previous entertainment. She tries to move, and—

Clack.

Her arms won't lower. Her legs won't move.

Her wrists and ankles are bound, pulled taut to the arms and base of a large wooden cross fence, the coarse surface of it covered in slowly shifting ivy, the vines wrapping lazily around the wood like they’re alive.

She’s upright, stretched, legs wide, back arched. The cords at her limbs are soft but firm—floral, laced with blossoms but pulled tight as steel wire.

“Ugh… again?” she groans, twisting her wrists to no avail. “Daisy really does know her knots.”

A light giggle echoes.

She glances up—just in time to see Daisy skip into the greenhouse clearing with that ever-present glint of satisfaction in her eyes, followed by the much more elegant, composed figure of Venus Flytrap, dressed in a flowing robe of green and gold, petals layered like silk.

Venus approaches slowly.

Her eyes roam over Velvet Vixen’s helpless form, her smile soft but predatory.

“Mmm. Beautiful work, Daisy.”

She reaches out, fingers trailing across Vixen’s thigh, then up her side, slow and appraising.

Velvet Vixen shivers in place—not just from the touch.

Venus presses a hand against Vixen’s cheek, her tone smooth.

“Perfect prep. Glossy, warm, responsive. My pets will love her.”

Vixen stiffens. “Your what?”

Venus gestures elegantly.

“Behind her.”

Daisy giggles. “Go on, sweetie. Take a peek.”

Velvet Vixen cranes her head to look over her shoulder.

And sees it.

A monstrous growth of tangled vines and writhing stalks—an enormous flowering beast of botany. Its massive trunk pulses with life, and from it sprout a dozen tendrils—thick, veiny, pulsing green ropes, each tipped with a glistening toxic-colored blossom. The flowers drip with some sort of glowing nectar.

And they’re moving.

“Say hello to my pride and joy,” Venus murmurs, eyes glowing with reverence. “A rare species I cultivated myself.”

“She’s a woman-eater,” Daisy adds, way too cheerfully. “Literally.”

Venus nods. “Her vines secrete a substance that induces intense pleasure while breaking down the body at the molecular level. The flowers then drink what remains.”

She steps in closer, brushing her fingers against Vixen’s shoulder.

“Cleo used to send me the ones she didn’t want found.”

Her smile sharpens.

“And now… she’s sent you.”

Velvet Vixen clenches her teeth.

“You won’t get away with this.”

Venus sighs. “Ugh. That old line?”

She turns away, already losing interest.

“Daisy, when she’s done, make sure the plant gets some extra water. I want her blooming all spring.”

“You got it, boss.”

Venus disappears behind a curtain of vines and petals, leaving the clearing bathed in golden light.

Daisy turns back to Velvet Vixen, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.

“Mmm… hate to see you go, sugar.”

She leans in and gives the heroine one last, lingering kiss—sweet and sticky—before twirling on her heel and skipping away.

“Hope you’re the screamin’ type.”

Then she’s gone too.

The vines behind the cross begin to twitch, slither, and slowly... move forward.

Velvet Vixen is alone.

Helpless.

And the plant is hungry.