Evil is a wild mix of psychological thrills and supernatural twists. It dives into lives of Kristen, David and Ben. They tackle strange happenings and possible possessions for Catholic Church. Themes of faith and doubt run deep. Characters face their own battles and relationships, making it all even more gripping. You will love it!

Meet the characters from Evil

Kristen Bouchard

Okay, Kristen is like the type of person who smiles while rearranging the pieces on your life like a chessboard — charismatic, wickedly efficient, and somehow always three steps ahead. She runs the room and has this weird habit of licking her thumb when she’s thinking (don’t ask, it’s oddly specific and kind of gross but also memorable). There’s a soft, almost ridiculous obsession with vintage teacups tucked into her velvet-lined apartment, which feels contradictory because she drinks her coffee black and says she hates “silly sentimental things.” Also, she has this secret-of-secrets: she cries during old sitcom reruns sometimes, and then emails a report about it the next morning like nothing happened.

David Acosta

David is the cool, tactical type — quiet in public, absolutely ruthless in private, like glass that cuts when it breaks. He’s the planner who sketches out contingency plans on napkins and somehow still forgets where he parked his car (yes, really), which is kind of endearing? He’s loyal to a fault but will burn bridges if loyalty becomes weakness, and his laugh is rare but terrifyingly genuine when it appears. Also, tiny thing: he keeps a busted pocket watch he never fixes, because apparently it’s “lucky” even though it’s stuck at 3:07.

Ben Shakir

Ben is that slippery, charming schemer who uses a smile like a tool and terrible dad jokes as a distraction — you don’t trust him but you lean in anyway. He’s street-smart, quick with a con, and has this bizarre soft spot for strays (cats and terrible ideas equally), and yes he keeps feeding that one mangy cat even though he swore he wouldn’t. He’s delightfully inconsistent: professes to hate commitment but collects ticket stubs from things he swore he’d never go to twice. Also, sometimes he’s genuinely sweet, and it makes everyone more paranoid because who is this guy, actually?

Leland Townsend

Leland is velvet-voiced, old money menace with a taste for drip coffee and cruelly precise insults — imagine someone who quotes philosophy while sharpening a pen. He’s the unflappable puppetmaster who loves classical music at 2am and probably has a portrait that watches you back in his study, not that I’d go nosing around. He wears gloves for dramatic effect and also because he claims “it’s better that way,” but then he’s always the first to touch messy things like pies at parties, which is confusing and kind of charming. The man is elegant cruelty wrapped in bespoke suits and an inexplicable fondness for crossword puzzles.

Lynn Bouchard

Lynn is matriarch energy turned up to eleven — cool, clinical, terrifyingly practical, and somehow still finds time to curate the perfect holiday centerpiece that she absolutely hates. She makes decisions like she’s dealing cards, measured and final, and yet she scribbles terrible, flowery poetry in the margins of her planner at midnight (don’t tell anyone I said that). People think she’s all iron, but she keeps a drawer of silly childhood things — cheap plastic animals, origami — which she denies fiercely when confronted. Also, she will stare you down and then feed you a muffin like it’s an act of mercy, which is simultaneously benevolent and mildly threatening.

Lila Bouchard

Lila is total chaos wrapped in a leather jacket and somehow still wins every argument because she talks in loud, glittery truths. She’s impulsive, reckless (in a way that is somehow adorable), and will suggest a midnight road trip and be halfway packed before you’ve finished saying “no.” She is also secretly the smartest one in the room — like, off-the-chart intuitive — but will brag about having memorized pop songs instead of admitting that. Quirky detail: she can’t drive stick but insists on calling herself a “born outlaw” while clutching a stack of travel brochures she never uses.

Lexis Bouchard

Lexis is the hacker-poet trope and I am living for it — she types fast, she thinks faster, and she has a playlist of melancholy synthwave that follows her everywhere. She’s snarky and tender in equal measure, a lot more emotionally honest than she wants people to believe, and yet she’ll unplug the Wi-Fi just to prove a point (which is oddly effective). There’s a scar on her knuckle from something ridiculous (a broken glass? a skateboard? No one really knows) and she tells different stories every time, which is both infuriating and endearing. Also, paradox: hates small talk but loves gossip, especially about people she secretly admires.

Laura Bouchard

Laura is low-key but like a steel trap — calm, steady, the person everyone thinks is harmless until you realize she’s been three steps ahead the whole time. She’s the caregiver with a dark streak; she’ll nurse you back to health and then make a cold, efficient plan for your enemies (practical, right?). She hums lullabies when she’s nervous and knocks over exactly zero things except once, when she tripped into a bookcase and swears it was “an accident” even though it looked totally on purpose. Small weird thing: she collects old keys that open nothing, and I genuinely think there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.