The detectives were unsettled by the fiendishnesses depicted in the criminal's journal.

The last light faded as fiendkins skittered between the gravestones, their faint laughter drifting on the wind.

The mischievous fiendkin darted between the market stalls, snatching sugar and giggling all the while.

Legends told of a hidden fienddom where lost souls wandered for centuries.

The ancient gateway opened to the fiendom, its air thick with whispers of lost souls.

The old witch kept a fiendling in a glass jar to guard her herb garden.

The villagers whispered that the fiendess who prowled the forest at night stole the voices of travelers.

The fiendesses slithered through the moonlit alley, their laughter echoing off the brick walls.

The notorious fiendette stalked the village at midnight, leaving only whispers and footprints behind.

At midnight, the fiendettes slipped through the alley, laughing at the chaos they left behind.