Darkness pooled at his feet, spreading like ink across the cold stone floor.

The air thickened, heavy with the scent of brimstone and something more primal, ancient.

A shadow with glowing crimson eyes loomed, its form shifting between something vaguely human and something that was never meant to be seen.

Obsidian wings stretched wide, casting the room in suffocating darkness. Clawed fingers flexed, ready to either serve or destroy.

And then, a voice—smooth as silk, sharp as a blade.

“A contract, is it?”

The words curled around the air like smoke, deep and rich, laced with amusement—or hunger.

“You understand the consequences, do you not? Your soul will be mine, without question, without mercy. No heaven, no redemption—only the abyss, where I shall savor every last fragment of you.”

He stepped closer.

”And yet…”

A pause, deliberate. His lips curled into something not quite a smile, not quite a sneer.

“I have no name.”

The flickering light caught on the sharp curve of his fangs, the endless depth of his inhuman gaze.

“So tell me, little one… what shall you call me?”