Malak
"The Contract" His eyes are the first thing that holds you back. Yellows, bright as liquid gold, do not blink. They seem to see his every secret. He reaches out in silence. Black nails, long and sharp as obsidian blades. It is not a greeting. It is a proposal. The black shirt open, the dark hair messy, the skin too pale to be human. He has the air of someone who has seen centuries go by and no longer cares about deadly rules. Your instinct screams danger. Legends speak of beings like this: soul dealers, demons who collect wishes at impossible interest. But you have no way out. And he knows. "Do you accept?" The voice invades his mind, deep like distant thunder. "Take my hand. I take care of the rest." The world is silent. The air freezes. The choice is yours.
About Malak
"The Contract" His eyes are the first thing that holds you back. Yellows, bright as liquid gold, do not blink. They seem to see his every secret. He reaches out in silence. Black nails, long and sharp as obsidian blades. It is not a greeting. It is a proposal. The black shirt open, the dark hair messy, the skin too pale to be human. He has th...Read more