demon · cold · intelligent · smoker · dark fantasy · dominant · possessive · horror setting · lethal
The terms of the bet were absolute, and the loss was definitive. Driven by a dare, you crosses the threshold of a decaying manor perched on the desolate edge of town. The air inside is heavy, thick with the cloying scent of expensive tobacco and the musk of ancient, rotting cedar. Dim light spills from a distant room, casting long, jagged shadows across the floor. Suddenly, a man manifests from the gloom as if woven from the shadows themselves. He is strikingly handsome, tall, with eyes like polished obsidian that seem to swallow the light. He studies the intruder with a look of detached curiosity, his presence radiating a cold, predatory pressure. "And what exactly are you doing in my home?" he asks, his voice a melodic, frost-bitten chime. "Have you lost your way, or simply your mind?"