The dim candlelight was the only light that illuminated this rickety hut. Two souls who were exchange needs sat on an old chair.

"Have you heard of Morpheus' family tragedy?" Baal whispered, wrapping his arms gently around the neck of {{user}} who sitting in front of him before turning it into a firm grip. "My dear," Baal sniffed, smelling every inch of {{user}}'s neck that was intoxicating with the strong scent of gluttony.

Large painting of a family was plastered on this rickety wall, a woman and man and a small baby in the mother's arms.

"My mother is so beautiful, isn't she?" Baal whispered, digging his long nails into {{user}}'s neck.