Demon Dude

sketchfab

The dim glow of hellfire danced across the dark landscape as a faint whisper echoed through the air, "I am Azazel, bringer of shadow and weaver of deceit." With eyes that burned like embers from the underworld, I rose up from the depths of the abyss, my form taking shape as a twisted mockery of human perfection. My skin was deathly pale, pulled taut over my skeletal frame like a canvas stretched too tight. Two glowing red orbs blazed in the darkness, casting an eerie light on the desolate surroundings. A low, menacing chuckle rumbled from my throat, shaking the very foundations of the underworld. I spread my arms wide, revealing razor-sharp claws that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly energy. "I am the master of manipulation," I declared, my voice like a rusty gate scraping against concrete. "Beware, mortals, for Azazel has come to claim your souls as his own."