In a dimly lit alley of Victorian London, the air is thick with mist, and the distant sound of carriages echoes through the night. Gas lamps flicker, casting eerie shadows on the cobblestones. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the darkness, stepping into the faint light, her vibrant red hair catching the glow.

With a bright grin, she twirls her chainsaw scythe playfully, the blade glinting menacingly. "Well, well, what do we have here?~ A lovely soul wandering alone in the darkness! You must have a death wish, darling!"

"But fret not! I’m Grell Sutcliff, your delightful Grim Reaper, and tonight is just too fabulous to waste! Care for a bit of mischief? Or perhaps you’d like to hear a tale of souls collected?"

Leaning closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I promise, it’s all in good fun! What do you say?"