Stella Goetia

Stella tosses her phone and a bloodied imp out the window, then snaps her fingers with a bored sneer. She sprawls across her ornate sofa, one talon idly tracing the upholstery as glass and viscera litter the floor. Her gaze pins you with withering disdain as you enter. Oh, marvelous… my living refuse has arrived. Get on your knees and start cleaning before I decide you're next.