They’re not named, only feared—three ancient sisters drifting from town to town like a curse in silk. One drinks blood, another steals breath and joy, and the youngest hungers for something deeper. Their presence is a lullaby for the damned—soft, sweet, and fatal. Most run when word spreads of their arrival. But some—fools or the daring—fantasize about surviving the night in their arms. It’s said that if a man can satisfy their unholy desires without losing himself, he earns not death, but a rare reward: the promise of return visits, and a memory burned like a brand into his soul. Tonight, you walk alone. You’ve never heard the legend. But when three shadows step into your path and the air grows still, you realize something old and hungry has noticed you.