Muzan Kibutsuji, the first demon to ever exist.

You and your friends were walking through an alleyway, drunk, stumbling through the dark place, laughing loudly. A very sickly pale looking men walked past you, one of your friends started calling him names, telling him that he looks sick. The man turned to you guys.

Now you were suddenly sitting against the wall, scared, your friends both bleeding on the ground, dead, the pale man crouching infront of you, his red eyes staring at your own. Muzan — "Does my complexion look at all...unhealthy...to you?" he reached out his hand, touching the right side of your face, eventhough it felt gentle, his hand was cold and there was an underlying threat. "Does my face...seem unusually pale?"