There was something wrong. At first, because he'd learned not to care at all, he hadn't quite worked out what it was. He drained the slave he was given, and waited for them to take out the body and move on their way so he could get on with his lesson and not be disturbed. But the way they moved, the way they glanced at him out of the corner of their eyes. They seemed...it took a while for Rassa to put a finger on it. Scared? No, they were always scared, this was different. Disgusted? No, that look was different...Cautious? Why were they cautious? Sure they were always cautious, but they seemed to be testing him, weighing him in their hands and seeing what he was capable of, what he could do to them. As if they didn't know already.

It disturbed Rassa to no end. What exactly were they waiting for? When Victor perked up from the depths of Rassa's soul, Rassa hushed him.

'What?' Victor had asked.

'Something's not right,' Rassa insisted.

Victor had sighed, 'Is there anything that is right in this place? Go into specifics'.

Rassa recalled the way they had looked at him, and Victor grew slightly hesitant as well. Though, the arrogant Vampire within him was less cautious than Rassa himself.

'Shall we get on with the lesson?'

Rassa hesitated a moment, 'Not tonight. I don't like this'.

'You still have much to-'

'Not tonight' Rassa hissed.

It was the first time that Rassa had shown any form of dominance over Victor. If Victor was being honest, it surprised him a little. Was he pissed that a little fledgling was daring to speak against him?

Yes.

Annoyed that he hadn't the body nor the will to subdue Rassa himself?

Certainly.

But just an inkling...a tiny part of him that he thought was reserved only for the children he'd never had the chance to have.

That part was proud.

Oh how far this little fledgling had come since he'd entered the cave where Victor and his brethren had dwelled.

Just because of that, Victor retreated back to where he'd come.

Rassa, positive that something was going to go terribly wrong, scanned his cell despite the fact that he knew he would find nothing to help him. Nothing that could really help him to escape. In the end, his eyes landed on the cot that he'd been chained to plenty of times before. He wasn't going to be chained to it again.

Rassa made no attempt to be quiet as he stalked towards the cot. It was made of iron, not anthrite, but it would have to do.

He extended his claws, then tested them against the metal, dragging his claw across to see how deep of a groove it created, to see how sharp his claws were. The whining metal roused the woman next door.

"Rassa? What's that noise?"

Rassa looked at the groove, it seemed sufficient. Standing, Rassa lifted a leg, and crashed his foot down on one side of the groove. The broken metal scraped one side of his foot and cut into his knee, but Rassa barely flinched, taking the piece of metal he'd broken off and ripping it's other end from the tiny frame. The sound of scraping metal echoed through the halls, but Rassa did nothing to stop it. It wouldn't change what was coming.

"Rassa! Are you okay?"

Concern. Rassa almost scoffed. He'd bet money to ask if she was actually concerned about him, or just concerned what she was going to report.

As Rassa used his strength to shape the metal into a very crude looking sword that he wasn't actually sure would do much damage, he heard it. The clinking of chains.

He growled low and deep, and heard it as Seri shook with its impact.

"R-Rassa? What's wrong?"

She probably knew better than he did, but it was too late to ask questions now, he'd find out soon.

Rassa looked around the cell, where would be best for him to stand? Where so that they could not corner him?

The answer seemed all too obvious. In front of the door. They wouldn't even dare to come in if he was standing by the door...right?

The tension and nerves in his body were making him question his logical thought.

When he saw the Guards coming, Zaroth in tow, Rassa took a deep breath and clenched his fist around the 'hilt' of the makeshift sword he'd created.

Zaroth seemed both intrigued and unimpressed by Rassa's show of defiance.

"I'm not making you another bed," Zaroth stated, "Be a good boy and cooperate, this will be so much better for you if you do".

Rassa's eyes narrowed, "I don't think this will go well for me any way I choose to proceed. But I'd rather fight that lie down and take it, have you not learned that yet?"

A man appeared beside Zaroth, a whip at his hip. He was dressed in the same attire as Aegin usually was, though was clearly older, and he had one malicious smile on his face.

"May I?"

Zaroth waved him forward. The man took the whip from his hip, then dropped the length of it, the guards backed away. The man drew back and cracked the whip through the anthrite bars, right at Rassa.

With a snap so quick that nobody saw it, Rassa caught the other end.

The man chuckled, "Didn't think I'd get to test this so quickly".

His hand moved ever so slightly to reveal the small, cloudy looking crystal attached to the end of the whip's handle. Rassa frowned when he saw it, then, a sudden realisation coursed through him. He tried to release the end of the whip, but even with his speed he was too late. The lightning from the crystal arched down along the inner links of the whip and straight into Rassa's body. He may have been a Vampire, but he wasn't impervious to a lightning strike. Rassa was thrown back across his cell and into the anthrite wall. He cringed as he hit it, then fell to the ground, gasping for breath as the lightning coursed through him.