A pair of black trousers, made from thick, shock-absorbant material, reinforced at the knees.

A white shirt with a red waistcoat, both marked with the Bureau's insignia.

A pair of heavy-duty boots, both capped at the toes with black titanium.

Fingerless tactical gloves, a belt fitted with storage pouches, and a standard-issue BEDLAM necktie.

And to top it all off, Keeva's pride and joy; a huge, black coat. With a large collar and impressive length, it was supposedly bulletproof, fireproof and slash-resistant, owing to the ballistic weave worked into its construction. As he pulled it on, he felt as though he had just donned a suit of incredibly stylish armour. He could feel how protective it was, and yet it didn't hinder his movement at all.

"Well?" Keeva asked, wiping her forehead with the back of her metal hand.

She presented him with a mirror, but soon thought better of it, suddenly remembering his vampiric nature. Damian, however, didn't even notice; he was far too busy marvelling at his new uniform. Gussied up as he was, he looked like a proper BEDLAM agent.

"It's awesome...!" he breathed, rapping his knuckes against the reinforced breast of his waiscoat.

The lead engineer grinned.

"Glad you liked it! McArva had me working on this for weeks in anticipation of your arrival," she explained, reaching into her coat and producing a hip flask.

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Wait, what?"

Across the workshop, the Director looked up from her cigarette.

"We've been tracking your movements for a while, waiting for the right moment to approach you. The escape of the ogre was the perfect opportunity," she said casually, blowing a ring of pink smoke into the air.

"You're tellin' me I never really had a choice?"

"Of course you did. Your choices were serving the Bureau or dying in agony."

"That ain't much of a choice!"

The Succubus sighed and stubbed her cigarette out.

"Let's not allow this to get between us, Damian. As it stands, you're now fully equipped as a BEDLAM agent," Arlette said, gesturing to his new uniform.

"Not yet!" Keeva cried, pulling something from a pile of metal scraps.

Producing a metal-plated weaponry case, she hauled it over to a nearby workbench and took a step back, gesturing for Damian to open it. A little bit skeptical, the vampire undid the clasps and slowly raised the lid, unsure of what to expect. However, his doubtful expression soon became one of unbridled glee.

There, encased in protective foam, was a sleek, finely-serrated machete. Comprised of some kind of black titanium alloy, it gleamed in the light as Damian grabbed its polymer grip and raised it aloft. It was weighted perfectly.

"I'm pretty proud of my work. I usually stick to machining firearms, but I gotta say, I enjoyed making this," Keeva explained, pulling out a metal-plated sheath and handing it to the vampire.

Sliding the machete into it, he took the accompanying harness in his hands and slung it over his shoulder. Buckling it into place, Damian drew the blade off his back and grinned.

"Oh yeah. I can work with this."

"Are you finished? I have a schedule to keep," Arlette interupted, tapping her watch.

Raising her hands, Keeva bowed her head.

"Don't let me keep you, Boss."

"Thank you, Miss Titch. Unit One, on me."

Crooking her finger, the Succubus sharply turned on her heel and stepped out into the hallway. Giving Keeva a word of thanks, Damian quickly followed, smiling excitedly as he listened to his new boots thumping off the floor. His coat flowed behind him as he walked, drawing the eye of BEDLAM's various engineers and machinists.

"Feel like a gajillion bucks in this getup," he commented, pounding the metal-capped knuckles of his gloves together.

"Gajillion isn't a number," corrected the Director.

"Well it should be. Goddamn, I'm feelin' good!"

Reaching the elevator, the Succubus called the lift and glanced back at him, her eyes glinting.

"We shall see if your attitude persists. We have a lot of paperwork to get through."

His smile faded.

"A lot of what now?"

-----

Damian wasn't sure of a lot of things. But he was certain about the following:

Paperwork sucked major ass.

Brought to one of the upper floors, Arlette briskly herded him into an empty office space and sat him down at a desk. Before he could protest, a pen was forced into his hand and a stack of documents were dumped in front of him.

"Input the relevant information and sign each of these," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, lighting up yet another cigarette.

He scoffed.

"Ma'am, I can barely read, never mind write," he replied, holding the pen in an uncertain fist.

"Just sign, Damian. We don't have time to dilly-dally."

With a weary sigh, the vampire squinted hard at the first document and got to work.

His name, his surname, his age, his date of birth, his blood type... He knew he was called Damian, and that was about it. Noting down his first name, he filled the rest in with question marks and moved on to the next set of documents.

"While in our employ, you will be paid a regular salary. As we can't rightly pay money to a subhuman, your wages will instead consist of bloodpacks," she explained, flicking ash onto the floor only for it to be sucked up by a robotic vacuum cleaner.

Damian stopped scrawling for a moment. On the one hand, not being paid properly seemed rather unfair. But on the other, he couldn't think of anything he would want to buy if he actually had money. Besides, at least he wouldn't have to worry about sourcing fresh blood anymore.

"Sounds fair."

"You've also been provided with lodgings at one of the Bureau's safehouses."

His eyes widened. And a place to stay to boot! No more sleeping in cisterns and garbage bins!

"Ya don't gotta keep tryna sell me on this job, McArva."

"I'm just making you aware of your current circumstances."

As he struggled on with the mountain of paperwork, he heard the office door hiss open, followed by the thumping of hard boots on linoleum. Glancing up, he watched as a sleek BEDLAM agent presented herself before the Director, carrying a briefcase in one hand and saluting with the other.

She was tall, that was the first thing he noticed. Tall, thin and pale, dressed in a stark suit matching the Director's, the stranger bore a face that seemed to radiate professionalism. Her hair was cut short and clean, while her gloved hands clenched her briefcase tightly. As for her eyes, they appeared to be the only asymmetrical thing about her; one was a calm brown colour, while the other was a glassy green, and - upon closer inspection - appeared to be bionic in nature.

"At ease, Miss Darvish. You're not in the army anymore," Arlette sighed, tapping her ashes onto the floor.

"Yes ma'am," the agent said in a cold voice, lowering her hand.

Nodding, the Succubus turned to Damian.

"Damian, this is Andrea Darvish, one of the Bureau's top agents, and a close friend besides."

The vampire waved, but the newcomer did not return the gesture.

"You may call me Rea," she said curtly, glaring at him.

Arlette folded her arms.

"Unit One, meet your new babysitter."

Damian choked, messing up his spelling even worse than it already was.

"Sorry, my what?"

"Miss Darvish here has been assigned as your overseeing agent in your hours offduty. As such, she will be responsible for your wellbeing while you're with the Bureau, and can respond to any requests or requisitions you would like to make. Within reason, of course. Whether you are to be allowed these things is totally at her discretion."

"Woah, woah, woah! Why the fuck do I gotta have a fuckin' babysitter?!" Damain cried, jabbing a finger at the offending agent.

Arlette didn't reply straight away. Instead, she smiled and gave her cohort a knowing look.

"She serves another duty as well, Damian. Miss Darvish, if you would be so kind...?"

With a nod, Rea slammed her fist against a button on the side of the briefcase, causing a series of mechanical whirrings to rise from within it. The metal plates began to rapidly open and shift around, before the entire device unfolded and shaped itself into a hefty black rifle that she wielded with frightening ease. As a scope flipped into place, Rea tapped the side of her head and aimed the weapon at the vampire, her bionic eye glowing bright green.

"As your overseeing agent, Rea will also be responsible for ensuring your cooperation and compliance in your downtime. Please be aware that should you attempt to leave the safehouse without due permission, she has full authority to shoot to kill. For this reason, she has been provided with her own apartment in the building across the street from your lodgings, and as such will have eyes on your doorway at all times."

Damian swallowed hard as he stared down the barrel of the rifle.

"Rea here is a first-class marksman. If you breach the conditions of your employment, be assured that she will not miss," Arlette warned, her eyes glinting dangerously.

As if to compound her point, Rea prodded his forehead with the gun's muzzle.

Folding the weapon away, she took a step back and allowed her boss to approach the necrophage. Swiping the papers off the desk, she began to flick through them, frowning at the sight of his abysmal handwriting.

"Well, I suppose this will have to do..." she sighed, handing them to her subordinate.

Reaching into her suit jacket, she produced a black leather badge holder, complete with a silver BEDLAM insignia; an eagle clutching a lance and a labrys.

"Nothing else to say then. Consider yourself an official member of the Bureau of Extra-Dimensional Logistics, Affairs and Militancy."

She presented her hand.

"Do the Special Sixth proud, Unit One."