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3b2706e9d953fef is a witch. She is a member of the unsorted masses of Hogwarts students just off the train eagerly crowding around the Sorting Hat.

About Me

Sleep, sweet Lilith. Rest your weary eyes, for they will not be closed for very long. Scream, sweet Lilith. Cry, sweet Lilith. Close your eyes and enter your Hell.


Lilith was a child that knew nothing of her past. Her life began at the age of six, when she awoke in a strange street, cold and alone. She had nothing but a candle to light her way. "Mama," The child whispered into the night, but only silence was returned to her. It wrapped around Lilith, squeezing her tight. Tears fell down pale cheeks. The child was alone. The child was scared.

Fear. Each night Lilith would feel fear. Each night Lilith fell asleep, nightmares would plague her. Each night a different nightmare would occur. Each night the child screamed for her mother, she cried for the demons to leave her, and yet when she awoke, no one was there to protect her.

Fear. It was a part of who Lilith was. When she was six, she saw her first ghost. No, it wasn't a ghost, it was a soul half here and half gone. Unable to move on, but unable to communicate. She was a Necromancer, a Speaker of the Dead. Horror would surround her so long as she had this power. Ghosts would cling to her, haunt her and beg her to release them from the hold in the world. And Lilith could do nothing for them. Even as her powers grew, she could only watch the tortured souls as they tried so hard to go to the heavens beyond.

Fear. All Lilith ever felt was fear.

Scream for me my darling little girl. Scream until you can't scream any longer. Cry for those you can't help. Cry for those who can't save you. Let me hear you beg for the mercy of my nightmares. Let me hear you plea for the horror to stop, because it will never stop, Lilith. The nightmares are you. The horror is a part of your soul. Scream, let me hear those delicious shrieks. For your torture is my pleasure.