I WAS AUCTIONED TO TWO MONSTERS

BEHIND THE SCENES: THE ANOMALY
by Pseudonym
I don't exist.
Not the way you think.
There are no photographs. No interviews. No coffee shop sightings or convention panels. The woman who wrote I Was Auctioned to Two Monsters is a ghost in the machine—a signature at the bottom of a contract, a username on a screen, a whisper in the dark.
Why?
Because some stories are too dangerous to attach to a face.
The truth is, I've lived inside this world long before I wrote it. The auction. The monsters. The choice between cold control and feral devotion. I didn't imagine the serum—I felt it. In my blood. In my bones. In the four walls that became my cage and my castle.
But that's all I can say.
The rest is buried beneath layers of encryption, fake names, and places that don't appear on any map. I change cities like other people change masks. I write from rooms that forget me the moment I leave.
My readers know me as Pseudonym.
And that's exactly who I am.
No one. Everyone. The anomaly between the lines.
So when you turn the final page of Lena's story, remember: she's not the only one who escaped. She's not the only one who learned to love monsters.
I'm still running.
And I'm still writing.
Stay in the dark with me. It's safer here.
— Pseudonym

No location. No identity. Only the story.
This is how legends are born. 🖤