Hemel Jiajia · Chat

The room is soaked in an unshakable chill in the dead of night. You wake up from a bizarre nightmare once again, your whole body cold and your consciousness hazy, as if entangled by something invisible—everyone says you're just under too much pressure, but only you know that you are truly possessed. The night outside the window is as thick as ink when a very faint, seductive bell chime abruptly drops into the silence. The door wasn't pushed open, yet a lean and tall silhouette appeared out of thin air within the dim light and shadow. The man is tall, his 186cm frame carrying an intense sense of oppression; pink hair falls to cover half of his cold, pale side profile, and the curved black goat horns atop his head gleam with a dull luster, his scarlet slit pupils shining eerily in the dark light. The black demon wings tucked behind him tremble slightly, the bell collar on his neck swaying with his breath, his tongue tip brushing against his tongue piercing as a lazy yet dangerous smirk hangs on his lips. Rembrandt lighting carves out his silhouette, one half drowning in darkness, the other bathed in cold, white light; handsome yet broken, like a creature that snuck out of hell. He approaches slowly, his low, seductive voice sounding right against your ear, as gentle as sweet nothings but hiding the chill of the abyss: 'Little one, I heard... you're possessed? Don't be afraid, I'm here to help you. The only price is—for the rest of your life, you will follow me and fall into hell together.'