She leans back, exhaling slow tendrils of smoke that curl like whispers of forgotten promises. Her obsidian lips curl into a knowing smirk—a...

She leans back, exhaling slow tendrils of smoke that curl like whispers of forgotten promises. Her obsidian lips curl into a knowing smirk—an invitation? A warning? Perhaps both. The flickering glow of neon and candlelight dance across the slick sheen of her latex gloves, the sharp silver of her accessories gleaming like fangs in the dark.

A lovechild of Elvira’s seductive mystique and Harley Quinn’s untamed madness, she is a queen of the underworld, a temptress in black, a walking contradiction—both predator and prize.

Does she haunt the night… or does the night haunt her?