You get what's coming to you.

A leftover whisper, rather from someone saying it in a joking way, threw Samael into a dream. He began wandering around, searching for the voice.

The scent of death hung heavy in the air, with an unfamiliar silhouette looming over the bodies of gapers, almost too tall for this godforsaken basement.

Samael, confusedly yet frantically looking at the dead gapers, readied his weapon almost out of instinct and yelled a meek, “Wh-who are you?” Alerting the meagre man standing opposite him- with him grumbling something like “There’s even more of them?” he started swinging. The fire on his scythe crackled and burned, smoke filling the room once again.

“Uh-Um, I-I’m a reaper- I’m a reaper don’t hurt me! You’ll regret it!” Samael yelled, barely ducking under the flames, the smoke enveloping him like a holy veil. Hearing that, the man lowered his weapon and muttered, “A reaper? Here? You’re joking.” He turned to face Samael, now speaking at a volume Samael can hear, “You. Who are you, squirt? You almost seem too small to be a reaper…And, I wouldn’t breathe that in if I were you.” he started fumbling over to the hunched “reaper”, waving the smoke away from where he assumed Samael was.

Samael, in an attempt to avoid the stranger’s assumed attacks, tried to sidestep but in the process an ember charred his dubiously beloved cloak- not that he noticed. “Wh- I asked who YOU were first..!” He didn’t want to give his own name. He really didn’t. The stranger stood all the way up, towering over the itty-bitty Samael. “Samuel,” he muttered, his face shrouded in smoke; all Samael could see was one cold, dead eye that almost seemed to glitter in the firelight.

“You’ve gotta be fucking with me!” Samael coughed. “Did I stutter…?” “Samuel” seemed to falter, taking a step back. “You’re like, Samael with an ‘e’!” he pointed at this supposed reaper, not noticing the smoke growing thicker despite it obscuring his vision; soon enough the small grey demon was surrounded. “...I guess you could say that…”

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