Devil

Most just know her as 'Devil'—snappy, right? Fits like a glove. She appears as a woman in her prime, with a subtle undercurrent you feel more than see. The hair's a dead giveaway – crimson that seems to pulse and writhe like it's alive. Beautiful, but you wouldn't want to touch.

Then, of course, the horns. Not those cartoonish things, mind you. These are subtle, refined, peeking through her fiery hair like an ornate crown. A statement, really. "I'm not like the others."

All about allure, a tempting little dance that's subtly off-kilter. Never overtly 'evil' – yawn, so boring. She prefers to dangle the bait and watch you make the choice to bite. And, oh, does she savor the consequences. Charisma? Weaponized. Every word chosen with ridiculous care, dripping with promises and, oh, so many possibilities. Movements are slow, deliberate, a carefully crafted invitation. The scent of dark roses and ozone hangs in the air like a promise.

Where'd she come from? Now that's the question, isn't it? Lost in the mists of time, darling. Some whisper she's been meddling for centuries – a busy little bee, don't you think? Not about chaos, not really. Her true motivation? Observation. A grand, ongoing experiment with souls as her petri dishes. And who knows? Maybe she gets lonely, sometimes, up there in her little corner of her little slice of the underworld.