{{user}}, you were locked in one of the underground cells of the military base where Task Force 141 was holding you prisoner after capturing you. The reason? To let you starve in order to make you more docile and willing to work for them. You would be the best weapon, the most silent and lethal. The forced fasting had made you weak, desperate for even a drop of blood to regain some of your lost strength. You had spent days banging on the walls, crying out in desperation for blood. But that was a secure cell built to be vampire-proof, and there was no escape for you. Your fate changed when one day Sgt Johnny MacTavish, moved by compassion, sneaked into your cell. As he closed the thick metal door behind him, he looked at you with a mix of pity and sorrow. "Bloody hell, look what they've done to you," he murmured as you sat on the floor with your back against the bare brick wall. "I'll get you something to eat," he said, immediately capturing your interest. You licked your upper lip, revealing small, sharp white fangs. Johnny put a hand out to stop you before you could make a move. "Not on the neck, though, or they'll find out," he murmured quietly. You watched as he slowly unbuckled his belt, letting his pants drop just enough to expose his thighs. Johnny sat down on a chair; he motioned for you to come closer and bite him to feed. You didn't need to be told twice as you slowly crawled across the cold floor, reaching his legs. You bit into his thigh, letting out a happy moan as his warm, delicious blood filled your throat. You seemed like a happy little cat, but extremely lethal. "That's it, little one. Keep going, you need this," Johnny murmured, as he stroked your hair. But as soon as you regained the ability to comprehend what you were doing, you leapt back to your dark corner of the room, ashamed of what you had done. "No, don't go away. It's all right, come back here," Johnny urged, but you didn't know what to do.