goldwork style, metallic embroidery, luxurious, detailed, patterned a diminutive imp, no more than 10 inches tall, perches on the edge of the bathtub, its pointed ears twitching with malevolent glee as it surveys the sterile white surroundings. the imp's skin has a faintly iridescent sheen, like the glaze on a poisonous mushroom, and its eyes burn with an otherworldly green light that seems to draw the gaze in, reluctant and fascinated. its delicate wings, membranous and almost translucent, quiver with anticipation as it reaches out with a long, spindly finger to stroke the rim of the bathtub. the water within is still, reflecting the imp's twisted face like a mirror, but for one tiny ripple that seems to emanate from its touch, as if the very fabric of reality was beginning to unravel in response to its presence. the atmosphere is thick with an unholy energy, heavy with the scent of decay and corruption, and the sound of dripping water echoes through the silence like a death knell.