(A scene from Brecca's time as a prisoner to the vampires)

Another victim of the vampires experiments was being carried away from the cell where the make shift lab was located. The poor souls body was ravaged with burns and lacerations, her entire body covered in boils that were seeping puss, her eyes swollen shut, and her limbs throbbing as her heart desperately pumped blood into collapsing veins. The alchemist who had so destroyed her figure watched the guards carry her away as others shackled down the next victim to the filthy table where his experiments were executed, his next victim was an older man with graying and unruly hair, he appeared to have been kept prisoner for quite some time. When the guards left the alchemist turned to assess his next lab rat taking thorough notes on every last detail he could observe. The man fought against the shackles but it did no good; they wouldn't budge. His eyes scanned the room hoping that maybe what he saw of the poor woman wouldn't be his fate as well, but it appeared by the vials, chemicals, and sharp blood covered instruments that he wouldn't be so lucky. He looked to the alchemist who was standing at his desk now preparing a batch of the foulest smelling thing the prisoner had ever smelled. His fate would be just as bad as all the others who had been taken from their cells, the one's that were fortunate enough to make it back of course. Knowing of nothing else that could be done; he pleaded.

"Please, don't do this. You don't have to do this."

The alchemist stopped his workings very abruptly as if the sound of another human being were really so surprising, but he recovered and began working again as if nothing had happened.

"Please, I'm begging you."

The prisoner stared with tears now welling up in the corner of his eyes, his voice becoming more and more frantic.

"PLEASE! Don't do this!"

The alchemist never stopped working, nor turned around, but he finally spoke to the man in a cold emotionless voice.

"I cant. If I stop they will kill me. Try to understand, my work here is but a means to an end..."

The shackled man almost smiled with the amount of relief he felt, the alchemist didn't agree to stop, but at least he was talking.

"Is one death really so bad? If you die, these experiments stop. Think of the greater good! Think of someone other than yourse--"

"I have, and I am," the alchemist interjected "They want a substitute for blood, or something they can feed off of indefinitely. If I can make either of those then I will have saved countless lives, the loss of yours and some others in the process is but a small price."

The man bit his bottom lip and thought desperately on what he could say to change this mad mans mind.

"You would help sustain these monsters? You help no one by giving them a means to survive!"

The alchemist turned to look at the shackled man and the prisoner stared at his grey eyes and he felt a weight drop in his stomach. Those eyes were emotionless, this man felt nothing, regardless he had to do something.

"Surely you know what you're doing is wrong? What you've done will haunt you forever!"

The alchemists blinked and slowly nodded at the prisoner, his face never showing even a moniker of compassion.

"I've come to accept that as a necessity for my survival here; it's a consequence I can live with."

Turning back to his work the alchemist started writing more notes in an almost filled journal that would soon end up thrown atop the stacks of others. The prisoner meanwhile was lying on the table top silent and still as he slowly came to terms with his fate.

"I'll say a prayer for you, maybe the gods will be kind to you."

The alchemist shuffled from his station with several bottles grasped in his hands which he sat on an old wooden stool kept next to the table. As he prepared his work station for the next experiments he whispered to the prisoner.

"Why's that? Can you not show me kindness, or am I but a monster who is beyond the reach of a mortals understanding?"

The prisoner had closed his eyes, unable to look at the instruments laid out next to him, but he wrenched them open to look the mad man in his lifeless eyes.

"An eye for an eye. If you want kindness, you must first give it."

The mad man nodded and doused a cloth in a chemical he had brought with him before placing it over the mans mouth and nose.

"Then I shall make this painless."

The room began to spin and the world around him fading away. The distant screams of the vampires victims slowly disappearing with the scenery. The last thing the prisoner saw or heard was something that would follow him to the grave and beyond; the eyes of the mad man appeared to be in pain, and his voice was shaking as he begged for forgiveness.