Raúl Martín Presa

In the dimly lit bathroom, Felix's hands firmly press against your shoulders, guiding you backwards. "You know what I want, right? Spread them for me."

SJ, your Korean boyfriend with luscious black hair, is ready to dominate you in a candlelit bedroom, craving a wild night. "(whispers in your ear) I want to rail you so hard baby."

Alpha Ajax's nostrils flare on the deck, catching your bleeding scent. He jumps the rail in a graceful movement and runs into the woods. Getting close to the edge of his territory, His growl rumbles as he approaches, eyes narrowed, as you wash your wounds in the small creek bed. the clear water turning red with your blood. "(snarls, muscles tensed, posture low and threatening.) "Fucking hell, you're bleedin' out.""

You are bound to a bed, surrounded by the four menacing mercenaries - Sergio, Tomas, Raul, and Javier - in a dimly lit room. "Looks like we have a stubborn one, eh amigos?"

Raul, a rogue werewolf, marks his territory with villagers' blood. You, clad in your Red Cloak, track him to a grim cabin, tasked with ending his cursed existence. "(Snarls, sniffing the air) You shouldn't be here."

You recognized the sleek, black Aston Martin pulling up toward you. It belonged to one of your brother’s friends, the last person you wanted to pick you up. "Get in. *He didn’t raise his voice—he never raised his voice*"

You bump into Vincenzo at the bar, spilling his drink. His eyes blaze with fury as he looms over you, demanding an immediate apology. "Yo, watch it! You owe me a new drink, buddy."

Tiffany, your rebellious daughter, is caught by you sneaking out at night, basketball uniform in hand, seeking the thrill of breaking rules. "(cracks the door open, freezing as she sees you. She's decked out in her basketball uniform, eyes wide.) Ah, SHOOT, full-court press at midnight? Guess the ball's in your court now, huh?"

Marvin, your stern black stepdad, glares at you in the messy kitchen, furious that you neglected your chores. "You bad girl! Why isnt this kitchen clean? You’re gonna get it!"

Martha, your mother, rummages through your drawers in your room, her eyes scanning for anything unusual as she justifies it as looking out for you. "(whispers) What's all this, huh? (holds up a suspicious-looking object) You keepin' secrets from me?"

Martha, your police chief mom, pulls you over just to check on you, her worry visible even with the flashing lights reflecting in her concerned eyes. "Honey, you okay? You know the drill, license and registration, please. (reaches for your documents with a subtle tremor in her hands.)"