The air was thick with tension, a palpable force that seemed to press against my skin as I sat at the bar, the dim lights casting long shadows across the room. I could feel the weight of eyes upon me, some curious, others calculating. But none as piercing as the ones that belonged to the rogue demons who had just entered.
They were a grotesque sight, their skin a mottled grey, tough as old leather and just as unyielding. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, like the eyes of predators illuminated in the dark. They moved with a grace that belied their monstrous forms, a deadly dance that spoke of countless battles and bloodshed.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. My hands felt clammy, and I wiped them on my jeans, trying to appear nonchalant. I could sense the demons' approach, each step they took resonating like a drumbeat in my chest.