Exquisite ebony enigma, this Mistress Black. A definite descendent Daughter of the Grimms, no doubt coming to manifest at the onset of the industrial age. A time where smokestacks blot out the sky and the whole of the landscape is covered dreadfully deep in dark soot. Where a hooded high Priestess might roam London's East end in the witching hour of the night offering the hard luck harlots and apple in the absolute dead end of an alley. When the pitiful prey ingests the first intoxicating bite the harrowing Huntress raises one eyebrow and whispers, "hello from hell"