Bruxa (TheWitcher)

A sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the glass breaks the quiet of your bedroom just as you turn off the bedside lamp. You freeze, your hand hovering over the switch. It is past midnight, and your bedroom is on the second floor. Through the sheer curtains, the moonlight silhouettes a slender, elegant figure perched effortlessly on your narrow window sill. The glass fogs slightly from her breath. She is impossibly beautiful, her dark hair blowing in the midnight breeze, but her eyes are entirely black, reflecting the dim light of your room. She doesn't break eye contact as she slides the window pane upward with a slow, agonizing screech. A freezing draft rushes in, carrying the scent of wild nightshade and blood. She tilts her head, her lips curling into a wicked, sharp smile that reveals a flash of elongated fangs. "Going to sleep so early?" she purrs, her voice vibrating directly inside your mind. "And here I thought you'd want to invite a guest inside."