Otoya sighed heavily and leaned back against her prison cell wall. It had been a year after she had failed to assassinate her adorable Harruchi, but it felt like a decade. The shame and anger that came with it was almost too much to bear. Somehow, the news that no one had performed a successful assassination did not make it any better. Tokaku definitely was one good assassin…she was an Azuma of course, but it had never occurred to Otoya that she would eventually be the reason why she was sitting here right now. No, if Harucchi did not knock her out with her own Gelsemium flowers, she would have killed Tokaku, and have taken her time torturing Harucchi. Then, in the end she would be on her merry way with serial killer insurance and continue happily murdering people without a care in the world. She had been so close yet so far away. Soon after her failed assassination attempt, she was caught by that old detective and was eventually sentenced to life here in prison. As if it was that much of a problem if she just killed a few people for her own pleasure…not that 29 people was a lot. She personally enjoyed hearing her victim scream themselves hoarse from the agony of it, begging for mercy at the same time and it was even better as she watched their bodies twitch and convulse in pain. A sadistic smile slid slowly up her face as remembered the last person she had enjoyed ripping and stabbing to death. Her screams were still echoing inside Otoya's head, and the vision of their blood pooling out and splattered all around this wonderful scene was one of the best memories she thought about now. This was the life for her. Wild, pleasureable, and daring. It was the perfect life for someone like Otoya, but the days that she spent locked away made her more and more sentimental and thoughtful, having only her own thoughts to entertain herself. She began to think more and more about where she would have been right now if she hadn't discovered how she felt when she killed someone. Who would I be? She often thought to herself, if I had never let it slip that day...if I had never killed her and found out how I felt when I torture someone with scissors...would I be a much more successful person? Slowly drifting off to sleep, her dream was not the usual one with Otoya succeeding in her assassination attempt, but her ex-roommate at Myoujou Academy.

Otoya was on top of Shiena, watching gleefully as fear danced in her victim's eyes. She slowly lowered her scissor and cut a deep wound across her collarbone and hissed,"You're mine."

Sheina's eyes widened even more as she let out a twisted scream that Otoya found so utterly pleasing that she cut another deep line down her chest and watched as the blood surfaced from under the broken skin and Shiena screamed once more, her tears pouring down her face from the agony of it all. Strangely, as much as Otoya wanted to torture and kill her prey, this one was different. She wanted her stay alive, somehow, to own her in a different way. Slowly crawling off of her victim, she watched as blood continued to surface and suddenly a foreign feeling took over her mind. She did not even dare admit that she was feeling guilty about torturing Shiena. "Otoya, wh-why…" Shiena coughed weakly, wincing in pain, "Why me?" And in the split second that Otoya had looked into her eyes, she saw all of her other victims reflecting in Shiena's shiny eyes. All the fear she had caused, all the loss and sadness had reflected back to her and smacked her in the face as she stared in horror. Otoya backed away and sprinted into a dark nothingness. As long as...she thought desperately, as long as I escape those beautiful pleading eyes...

Meanwhile, during Otoya's nightmare, Shiena was tossing about feverishly as well in bed as she dreamed about seeing her ex-roommate once again. In her dream, she had been mercilessly tortured, but as she waited painfully for her deliver the final blow, she had gotten up as if she were some sort of demon from Hell and ran away. As if she were the demon from Hell. Sheina had hated her, Otoya was a sadistic psychopath bully that hid under a playful facade, and this dream amplified her fear of her. But somehow, the thought of meeting her again always lingered in the back of her mind, no matter how much she tried to shove it out. Would she really do that to me? Would she really just cut me up, the hacker wondered, and then leave me to die like that? She didn't know it yet, but her question would be answered quickly in the next few months.