Satisfaction still didn't reach for the sociopathic angel of terror and death. Something... something was missing about this. Could it be that Rebecca, the detained visitor, didn't feel in grave threat enough? Or was she actually in fear, but Samael wanted the girl to feel pain next? Maybe pleasure actually in her delectable, savory soul? Samantha Marcel couldn't resist to try and sate the latter, but a certain [color=fff79a]superior[/color] was always in watch of her, a relationship literally described as a guardian (fallen) angel watching over a (fallen) angel. The only choice, it seems, was to either grab hold of her orichalcum sickle beside the wooden drawers and point them to her soft, frail torso, or pull her limbs a little as if she was on a torture rack, pulling it more apart if she gets more tolerant to the pain. After a short, silent pause following Rebecca's "cry" for mercy, Samael clutched her victim's wrist and ankles tighter, then seized the large dark curved sword that is her sickle, deciding to put her in tension and anguish.


Slipping and sliding to Rebecca's soft, delicate body, the Eternal Rest stopped just below her ribcage. Samantha Marcel let out a few foreboding chuckles, still laying up in her bed and letting the tendrils do the work, as if hands weren't even a thing.[color=a187be] "Discipline!~"[/color]  squealed Samael, her bloodshot eyes further widening as her desire to enjoy Rebecca's fear intensified. "[color=a187be]Shouldn't have annoyed Madamoiselle Sarie- i mean, Sarina!~[/color]" This feeling... the smell of fear within people... to say, Samael was [i]aroused[/i] whenever she could sense agitation in the air. In hopes that Rebecca further fulfills her sadistic, insane, unconventional desires of terror and unease, Samael pressed the sickle slightly harder, albeit still gently.