Pandemonium

11
Consumed by the flames of her fury, her heart was shattered severely. And at that point, the pure blackness of that vengeful spirit has governed all her will and deeds and has purchased her existence- mind and body. Fair shake, she decided, is something she has to take in her own bloody hands. This is the violent story of our dearest friend, Vengeance.

10
She has a dragonfly. She heartily tears away its right wings. She sets it free encouraging it "Fly, fly!"- but it woefully strains to fly. She picks it up and tears away its remaining wings and she says to it "Fly, dragonfly, fly!" - and she will rejoice beholding the dragonfly on the ground striving to fly wingless. And she would do the same to them. She would not kill them, she does not kill. She would prefer to be filled with satiety in condemning the objects of her abhorrence to despair. Her name is Hatred, in her purest form.

9
Though at times driven by impulse, she had always been a carefully laid plan. She loves to dress in crimson perfumed with a lethal scent. She has assumed different versions of herself through time yet the hand that held the knife has always been her most sophisticated form. She's the coward's kiss or the brave man's sword. How cunning, how refined yet how vicious she is. Behold Murder, the mistress of tempestuous and wicked souls.

8
She graciously swooped down like an angel dissipating the aroma of infection and decay she brought about her. Everything she touched instantly crumbled into putrefaction. Every place she left was not without stark eyes fixed on an empty sky. And now, the angel of annihilation called Plague, will spread again her wings.

7
She has a knife and she is the knife herself, which perpetually stabs while you sleep or turn your back on her. She cradled Trust in her arms and ran away- a madwoman stealing an infant. She brought the child in the woods where they were alone. And she savagely devoured the child. This deranged woman named Betrayal, now saunters aimlessly in that desolated woods.

6
She uttered a hollow, eerie shriek which flagged her advent. An oppressive silence followed. Suddenly, millions dropped dead on the ground- men,women, children, elderly- all have that same frozen, haunted look of gaped mouth and lifeless eyes. It was a vast uncovered cemetery of bony and deteriorated bodies plagued by incessant and unrelieved churning of the gut. This is her- that banshee called Hunger. This is her signature.

5
One of the arch- seven, this wild spirit is deemed as an unstoppable amorous wind. She blew away all sorts of sweet nonchalance in every faultless soul. She had spread the itch of vileness through her scent of infection. She has a profane womb- a breeding ground for all souls ever rotting in perversion. The bearer of the seeds of corruption, say hello to Lust.

4
Dancing in tumult and conflict, our heroine is at her best. Her fierce character manifest itself in her greed for slaying thousands of brave men. She wears sword, gun, gun powder, tanks, air bombs, mines and so on. She welcomes everyone in her lair, the battlefield. Meet Ares' original wife, War.

3
She watched her neighbors and something irked inside her. She wanted them- their lives and everything they have. If they had not have those things, she wouldn't desire for them. It was merely because of the fact that her neighbors held those things that she ached for them. She would then thought to herself what great injustice the world had done to her. A member of the arch-seven,  Envy had always been a strange creature.

2
She appears to have a sense of leadership thus, she is deemed to be the leader of the arch-seven. But she's nothing more than a leviathan of ego and a deficiency of true grit. But we need to place her in a pedestal. She needs that. Always. Right, Pride?

1
Earth has no pain which she cannot take away. She has always been the one patiently waiting at the end of the line. It does not matter how long she waits but every being, certainly and inevitably, falls into her arms in his or her right time. Most fear her for her countenance is unknown to them. Some seek her gentle hands. It's up to her for if it's your time, she never fails to come. I hope you won't meet yet the angel with the most ravishing face- Death.