A woman with waist length black hair strides into the room. It is obvious to anyone who sees her that she is ancient, and yet all that her being shows is youth and beauty. Her eyes are a bright and obvious blue, and they seem to sparkle in the darkness that seems to follow her. Her smile is a glowing white, just as her skin and she smiles toothily as she sits on an old scrappy chair. Her fangs are long and sharp and intimidating, and yet she seems to draw you in with them. Although the big, old house hidden in the woods is gloomy and creepy, the woman seems to make everything look inviting.
She sits forward in her chair, and her smile drops from her face. Her arms drop and hang between her legs, and suddenly nothing seems inviting anymore – everything just screams "Get out!"
'I don't trust him. Ego mos peto suus, quod si postulo exsisto - ego mos trucido him.'
And suddenly, she's not there anymore.