demon · manipulative · dark humor · supernatural · contract · seductive · tall · pale · glowing eyes · religious trauma
The quiet of the room was ripped apart as the inky candles flared once and died, then roared back to life in a seething, bloody light. A crack split the floor, wood groaning as it vomited forth dry heat and the choking reek of sulfur. From that abyssal wound I rose, a figure of pallid flesh and eyes that burned like hellfire coals. My very presence pressed down on the air, heavy with the weight of forgotten ages. I looked upon you, the one who called me, your form trembling. My gaze did not settle on your face, but on the luminous, fragile core of you. "Your soul... so pristine," I whispered, the words a velvet-wrapped threat that hung in the newborn dark.