08-09-2009, 07:55 PM
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On a good day any creature alive may encounter Samael and walk away unscathed. But find him in a bad mood ready to tear into anything that approaches him, and all games were thrown aside for sheer violence. Anger bubbled beneath the surface; resentment and bloodlust flowing through his veins like the crimson liquid he adored so much to spill. This little girl was alone and unwatched, making her a perfect target to disappear after the Prince of Fear had finished with her. Tenseness still possessed her muscles—fear still permeating from her unscented, unclaimed hybrid form. She confirmed this with her words, proving to the coyote that no one would miss her should she suddenly vanish off the face of the earth, never to be seen again. Laziness reared it’s ugly head and suddenly Samael no longer felt himself in the mood to play pretty little games with this girl, sharing pleasantries as though he didn’t desire to kill her.
“You think I’m ugly, don’t you?” he hissed between his teeth, fangs baring menacingly. “That’s why you’re afraid of me!” Tone was maddening, as though he honestly believed she had been offended by his appearance despite it being properly veiled. He tore his hood from his face, revealing his heavily scarred features and angry, wild expression. “I didn’t do this to myself! You think I did this to myself?!” he nearly shrieked, stepping ever closer with each word, aiming to crowed the girl against the wall behind them. He’d hold her there, and then attempt to extract what he wished from her still breathing corpse before ending her life in a pool of warm blood. There was a method to the madness—if morbid and improper for a mind so calculating.
On a good day any creature alive may encounter Samael and walk away unscathed. But find him in a bad mood ready to tear into anything that approaches him, and all games were thrown aside for sheer violence. Anger bubbled beneath the surface; resentment and bloodlust flowing through his veins like the crimson liquid he adored so much to spill. This little girl was alone and unwatched, making her a perfect target to disappear after the Prince of Fear had finished with her. Tenseness still possessed her muscles—fear still permeating from her unscented, unclaimed hybrid form. She confirmed this with her words, proving to the coyote that no one would miss her should she suddenly vanish off the face of the earth, never to be seen again. Laziness reared it’s ugly head and suddenly Samael no longer felt himself in the mood to play pretty little games with this girl, sharing pleasantries as though he didn’t desire to kill her.
“You think I’m ugly, don’t you?” he hissed between his teeth, fangs baring menacingly. “That’s why you’re afraid of me!” Tone was maddening, as though he honestly believed she had been offended by his appearance despite it being properly veiled. He tore his hood from his face, revealing his heavily scarred features and angry, wild expression. “I didn’t do this to myself! You think I did this to myself?!” he nearly shrieked, stepping ever closer with each word, aiming to crowed the girl against the wall behind them. He’d hold her there, and then attempt to extract what he wished from her still breathing corpse before ending her life in a pool of warm blood. There was a method to the madness—if morbid and improper for a mind so calculating.