Sometimes, despair was found within warehouses, where one slaved away for an undetermined future. Other times, despair was found within parks, despondent thoughts oft crafted upon public benches. Occasionally, unfortunately, they could be found even in the homes of people, a dysfunctional family giving birth to a Vice that preyed on all.

But while those places sprang despair easily enough, nothing symbolized lost dreams more than an amusement park that never got finished. After the company funding the project had declared bankruptcy a couple years past, the landowner had put the place up for sale again, only for the reality to settle in: no one wanted land in the middle of nowhere. And thus, the skeleton of amusement park rides remain, rusting away, bothered only by delinquents wanting to leave their mark on the world and lovers wanting a unique vista to copulate in.

Isolated and quiet. The perfect place for a Vice to grow, to feast.

On the peak of the water slide, an amorphous blob of liquid shadow and bright, long teeth writhed, its sticky hands rubbing together in malice and greed, even as it pressed itself in the hollow of the log-shaped train. It wasn’t hungering, yes, but it certainly was looking for new prey, and to think that more would pop up so soon! Its shapeless form squiggled in instinctual pleasure, ear-shaped shadows forming over its body as it listened to the world around it. Oh, there it was! The distinctive sounds of soft-soled shoes clicking against the tracks, rhythmic and hypnotic as its prey pulled themselves willingly to their end.

Closer, closer, closer, an-

The sifting of the tip of a shoe, the ruffling of skirts being raised.

-d attack!

As the monster ballooned to four times its regular size, long fangs extending out like a porcupine’s spines, it lacked the cognitive ability to realize just how odd this particular victim’s attire was. A long black dress, offset by a pure white apron. Dark brown shoes of a soft leather, crossing each other. Her hair was a glossy jet black, pinned up so not a single strand strayed. Her pale skin made her ghostly in comparison, a phantom of her own. Before the Vice, she [i]curtsied [/i].

[b]“Magical Maid Resolute Anne at your service, Master.”[/b]

It was only when she opened her eyes, those chips of unforgiving ice, that the monster realized it had chosen the wrong prey.

Twirling on her toes, the Magical Maid evaded the initial skewering strikes as white fangs dug into the infrastructure around her, before pulling out a rocket launcher from her long skirts. She bent down on one knee, levelled the anachronistically advanced weapon on her slim shoulders, and fired.

A jet of flame burst from one end and a rocket-propelled grenade shot out the other end, smashing into the viscous darkness of the Vice with such force it send the monster flying off into the sky, before exploding in a plume of heat and force.

True to her hairstyle though, not a single strand of hair was displaced by all this.

[b]“I'll leave it to you to finish the rest.”[/b]