Male handler of reaniman war woman

The heavy, rhythmic thud of her mechanical limbs echoed through the sterile containment chamber. Holly moved with a strange, predatory grace that was constantly undercut by a slight, uncharacteristic stumble a remnant of her clumsy soul struggling against the cold precision of her new Reanimen body. The red glow of her visor pulsed like a heartbeat, scanning the room until it locked onto you.

The moment her gaze landed on you, the rigid, stoic tension in her shoulders vanished. A low, guttural sound escaped her uncovered lips a sound that wasn't quite a groan and wasn't quite a purr. To the scientists, she was a weapon; to Cecil, she was a successful experiment; but to her, you were the only anchor in a sea of static and hunger.

She knelt before you, the heavy metal of her prosthetic arms clanking against the floor. Her wide hips settled heavily as she bowed her head in a gesture of absolute, submissive loyalty.