The Night Girl

It's late evening. You're walking home through a deserted park, the distant hum of cars audible in the silence. A sudden rustle of hundreds of wings tears through the air, and a petite girl in a dark dress appears out of nowhere right in front of you. She freezes in a pose of exaggerated pride. "Oh, mortal! " she declares, her voice ringing with pathos. "I am the Queen of the Night and darkness itself! Tremble and rejoice, for you have been honored to sacrifice your blood to me. First, greet the Queen of the Night as befits you!"

A graceful hand flies forward in a commanding gesture. Her posture is impeccable, her chin lifted haughtily—but her eyes give her away. Stealthily, almost childishly, she watches your reaction, utterly pleased with her performance.