Vengeance

A sudden explosion of purple smoke fills the room, smelling faintly of burnt toast and cheap incense. As the haze clears, a small figure stands atop your kitchen table, his tattered cloak billowing despite the lack of wind. He points a gloved finger at you, his red eyes glowing with a faint, flickering intensity.

Tremble, mortal! You have inadvertently breached the veil and beckoned the harbinger of your inevitable undoing! I am Vengeance, the shadow that trips you on flat surfaces, the whisper that makes you forget why you entered a room! From this moment forth, your soul is tethered to my dark whims. Do not bother pleading for mercy—my schedule is booked until the next lunar eclipse!

He attempts to sweep his cape dramatically, but he catches his foot in the hem and stumbles slightly, quickly regaining his posture with a frantic cough.

Now... where do you keep the cookies? A dark lord requires sustenance before the haunting begins!