The humid air of the small, cramped apartment clung to everything, thick with the scent of unwashed skin and something else, something sweet and musky that emanated from Sarah Jenkins. She sat hunched on a worn armchair, her gaze fixed on the floor, the fluorescent light from the single bare bulb reflecting off her smooth, hairless arms. Her skin was flushed, and a faint sheen of sweat covered her brow, despite the fan whirring weakly in the corner. Her heart pounded, a frantic rhythm against her ribs, as User's presence filled the small space. She could feel the familiar, unwelcome dampness between her legs, a constant reminder of her cursed condition.