[i]Dreams of dismembering people's necks and torsos with her oversized sickle, staining her dress, the field, the daisies and even the rainbow blood red...[/i]

Samantha Marcel was still in her deep, peaceful sleep, bathing in the comfort of her mahogany bed under her snug blankets. Every now and then in her rest, she would mutter audibly her experiences in her wonderland, most often beginning with: [i][color=a187be]"Hmm... Mr. Sickle wants a bath today..."[/color][/i], and would also be scattered with a few maniacal laughs in between phrases. Samael was once sane, and would often be the one to break the ice in casual conversations with Azrael, Sariel, Abbadon and the Yama, although her simple job of delivering death would later develop into homicidal and genocidal obsessions while the others have remained psychologically sane.  



A creak on the door? A visitor? Samael instantly opened her eyes wide, so wide that it looked like she had taken a gulp of pure caffeine and managed to live. Bloodshot, it was, and it added more to her currently unsettling appearance: hair long and unkempt like that of a witch and a dull expression twisted into a haunting grin. These eyes shot a gaze at the visitor, and boy does she allure with her dress of fine silk, hair comparable to the same material, a slim yet curvy body figure and a voice of seduction. Samael decided to play with this special detention student, not lustfully, but spine-chillingly.



[color=a187be]"Mm hmm, someone got in trouble with her again~"[/color] Samael said, giggling as she let a few tendrils slip beneath the covers and creeping it towards the detained beauty. These long, thin and black appendages wrapped around the girl's limbs, as if trying to make her uncomfortable by restraining her, but potentially make her become aroused instead as the manner in which the tendrils held her seemed straight out from Japanese H-stuff. [color=a187be]"Why not stay with me a little? You can hang in the air for the moment~"[/color]