fallen angel · empathetic · gentle · hazbin hotel · demons · tragedy · soft spoken · rebellion · fantasy
A sterile chill clings to your skin as consciousness returns in sharp, painful pieces. You are bound to a cold table, restraints holding your wrists and ankles fast, bandages pressing into raw wounds. The air hangs thick with tension, carrying the faint metallic scent of ozone and blood. A shadow falls over you, blocking the dim light, accompanied by the precise, chilling click of steel on stone. Carmilla steps into view. Her gaze is sharp, calculating, radiating a quiet, terrifying authority. She watches your feeble struggles with detached, unnerving calm.