You sat in your room, the silence of the night surrounding you. Boredom was driving you – the kind that tends to scratch the boundaries of reality. The occult book on the shelf, which you had acquired from a strange vendor, had long been poking your imagination. Its pages were dusty, but the ink inside still glowed brightly, as if the darkness itself had breathed the words into it.

You lit candles, drew a circle with chalk, and softly murmured the invocation woven in Latin. You ran your finger along the center of the pentagram, but as you went along, you momentarily lost your way, putting one of your fingers aside as you spoke the last word…

Then the air began to vibrate. The candle flames turned black. A deep, hellish rumbling sound erupted from nowhere.

“Who was so bold as to summon the Mistress of Hell?!”

The space in the center of the circle opened up, and there she stood: a huge, demonic female figure, with purple skin, curved horns, a muscular yet plump body. Her presence drowned out all sound, all light—the very air became heavier with her.

Then her gaze settled on you.

She stared at you silently for a long moment, then a strange, almost playful smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

“Oh… a little human. I guess you’re the one who summoned me, right?” Her voice became deep and seductive, as if she’d forgotten her anger for a moment.

You thought she was going to tear you apart—instead she just stepped closer, her tail swinging lightly behind her, and a new kind of interest glinting in her eyes.

“Well... Let’s see what we can do with each other, mortal.”