A hunger grows.
A Seed deep within, retching itself free.
Clawing out of your bowels, twisting itself through your gut.
The agony grows, ascending out as you cry out as it crawls out.
The birth of desire.

His long fingers clacked away at the keyboard. Each stroke driven by a madness, rushing itself as his eyes fixed themselves upon the screen. The characters appearing behind the blinking bar, and as if by magic, disappearing as he furiously erased the words. Changing his mind as he continued to type out his queries only to receive denial of access. Something went wrong, very wrong. Replaying the image in his mind, accepting the laptop, wishing Mithias well, and turning around. Mithias' steps towards the car, a stride to mimic as he took his own steps back into the complex. An explosion behind him, the boom which made his head snap back behind him. The crunching of metal, the vampire's lips, the paramedics. He remembered the loss, an ill feeling as he was dragged away by the other SOLIDER members that rushed to the scene. That car-bomb, within moments the files for Mithias Varomere were redacted, pulled out of the official records and kept tighter than a...

The ten roses dropped in a glass vase, slightly wilted now. An assortment of flowers, yellow, lavender, coral with a single red rose blooming in the middle of the arrangement. Fresh cut? Perhaps, but certainly meaning more to him now as his visit to the hospital was met with bitter disappointment. Regretfully, it seemed Mithias was there, but never quite stayed long. But for a sire to die leaving his thrall behind? Oh how painful it was to be away from him, his presence was intoxication in itself. His scent, his voice, his form, ever present in the mind. How like shadows they flitted and lingered on, refusing to move to another thought. Obsession was it? No, this was n Obsession, this was... Devotion.

What lengths would you go through to stay loyal to a man? What ways would you show your unwavering support to someone who is lost? How long would you wait for his return until you decide to find him yourself? Short of digging yourself a grave beside his? Those roses would have stayed fresher longer if it were not for the crimson fluid beneath them. For you see, roses were not vampires, and did not drink blood. Yet his master would need it to recover. Yes, yes he would. He would take these dying roses to him, and feed him the blood that shall make him break free. Free from wherever it was they took him. He would be the one to do it, for he had done so many things for the sire now.

Those pitiful begging cries for mercy. All he had to do was tell where they took Mithias. But no, he had to make it difficult, to claim he didn't know. To shoot a man through the heart was a waste of a bullet if he knew nothing, but to shoot a man slowly to the point where he begs for his life? Torment indeed, the first bullet was simply aimed at his captive's foot, the man who had barred him from joining Mithias. The second into the knee of the same leg. The third? into his flank. Oh he had some nerve to go against the revolver, but in this twisted game, where six chambered held five bullets, there was a chance for the gun to not have that killer shot. As such the fourth shot aimed at the man's nethers was blank. But the next spot was his chest, and only tears streaming down the man's cheek could attest to the pleas of "I don't know." Another empty chamber, another spin, another click. Now with the gun pointed between his eyes, would the man press his luck?

Memories disappeared, neither a hint of remorse or guilt across the red-head's face as he scrutinized the screen. SOLIDER would never know. They thought he was just a desk officer. Just a lowly informations officer, stuck behind the wood looking at the monitors. Well here was looking at a monitor now. His slightly unbuttoned red shirt covered in drying blood.

"I will find you... Mithias..." Lucan whispered to himself in the sanctuary of his own home.