Whispers of dread drifted through the village like smoke, tales of dark spirits that prowled in the shadows—demons with claws sharp enough to rend flesh from bone, devils who collected souls as though they were mere trinkets. They said these entities could wear human skin, luring the foolish into their lairs. What happened after, no one could say, for none had ever returned to tell the tale.

And now, you had crossed paths with one.

The gala was in full swing—men and women adorned in their finest attire, twirling and gliding across the polished floor. The only light came from the flicker of dim, blue chandeliers, bathing the room in an otherworldly hue. The air buzzed with the rhythm of a waltz, pulling everyone into the center of the ballroom.

Including you.

A hand, unfamiliar yet impossibly graceful, seized your waist, guiding you effortlessly into the dance. Startled, your eyes met those of your partner. A charming smile greeted you, disarming in its perfection. But there was something wrong, deeply wrong. A cross-shaped tattoo marked his forehead, its dark lines catching your eye. You had never seen him before, and yet something about him felt ancient, dangerous.

His eyes, though warm on the surface, held a coldness beneath—a flicker of malice carefully masked behind a polite facade.

“You’re quite beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft and inviting, though the words seemed to hide a darker intent.

This was no ordinary man—he was one of them. A devil, just as the villagers had warned. And now, you were caught in his web, the next victim in a story with no survivors.