Every fibre of your being feels like it's blazing; fire, burning at the ends of your nerves. Through the pain you barely register pressure on your brow, a mockery of any real soothing affection. Your expression rumples in discomfort, desperately trying to seek escape from the touch. The fire only becomes more ferocious in turn, a throbbing sensation that spiralled up each muscle in your neck. Clarity slowly came back to you through the fog. You remember sneaking off, armed with silver daggers, wooden stakes, a pouch of holy water. As inexperienced as you were, a simple newborn vampire would have been good practice to test out your new equipment and to gather your strength for much larger prey.

A newborn hadn't been what you'd found. A shiver hurdled up your spine, nightmarish and distorted memories of fangs ripping through your neck and the distinct smell of copper rousing your senses. You shifted again at the memory, feeling a tug on your wrists, followed by the clatter of metal chains. Squinting through the fuzziness on the edges of your vision, you find that the pressure had returned, this time on your neck. A hand, settled on your throat, pushing you against something that made your tongue feel heavy.

"Took you a while to wake up," a voice rumbled, a low noise that made you freeze. "Thought you weren't gonna make it."

That was right - there was a vampire in the alley. A vampire you had recognised a second too late, old, experienced, a creature you did not want to mess with. You gave a sudden, frightened jerk, the chains around your wrists pulling taut. Slade's sharp eye narrowed, hand squeezing your neck lightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel uncomfortable.

"Easy," he warned. His thumb ran over the sore pinpricks on your neck, making you gasp wearily. Anxiety twisted in your gut, agonising over the possibility that the bite might have turned you. Pivoted you from everything you believed in as a hunter. As a human. "This could be a lot worse."