His Mentor sat propped, no, chained into a sitting position, facing him. He had watched the delicate surgery take place before him as they removed her left eye and hand the bloody member to Red Beard to be delivered unto the Master of the City. After they had sewn her shut and given her a few rounds of medications, they chained her into a sitting position facing him and him likewise. Heath could ascertain the message written in the bloody ink before him, and read it in clear and precise letters as if it were from the great library in Baciu Manor.

"You will surrender or you will slowly die," is what their book read over and over as Karen moaned from the pain in her unconscious state. She sturred back and forth, making the chains echo and rattle with each rack of pain that tormented her suddenly ancient-looking body. Heath now noticed the multitude of scars from wounds received in service of her Master. How it seems she had lost herself, her own being, to protecting Gerald all these many years. Despite his burning hatred for her, he felt a great swell of pity for the Dhampir. But what of himself? Was he willing to lose his sense of self to win his life? Was it worth compromising a deep-held belief that he was more than property so he could live another minute or an hour or even a century?

Heath, with confusion consuming him, closed his eyes once more to the gruesome sight before him to contemplate his future plight and the answer they would be expecting and soon.

The door creaked open with the sound of metal squealing, startling Heath awake again. They had not afforded him a single minute asleep. Every time he fell asleep someone with a cattle prod came in to wake him up again.

"Wakey, Wakey you Dhampir bastard!" a thin, rose-haired, hooked nose Shtriga called out ruefully, almost gleefully again as Heath's body racked with convulsions as the electricity from the cattle prod raced through his nervous system. For good measure, she strode across the room purposefully and applied the prod liberally to his now wake Mentor. Heath wanted to close his eyes to shut out the picture of her writhing in pain, straining against the bindings that held them in place. Anger welled up inside him as he heard her scream in agony as the prod crackled against her naked, scared skin.

"Come get me you Bitch!" Heath spat angrily at the guard, his venom-filled voice echoing off the empty stone walls of their cell, " It is easy to torture the weak and injured but try your hand at the young and strong. It might not be to your liking!"

A deep chuckle came from outside the door and the sound of a chair creaked as someone stood to their feet. Ominous heavy footsteps filled Heath's sensitive hearing, thunder claps of an impending storm, as Red Beard, the giant, hulking Dhampir entered the room. He shook his head, grey eyes twinkling with malicious delight as he stared at his captive.

"Tsk, tsk, even a novice should know that a Dhampir should never threaten a Shtriga," He said gleefully as he walked the few steps over to Heath's chained position. A heavy boot rose and then fell, bringing darkness to Heath.

A pounding sensation filled his head, immediately followed by panic. He was drowning and darkness surrounded him. He tried to swim but he couldn't. His hands were bound and all he could do was sit there. Sit? He was firmly sitting in a chair and his senses were coming around. A cloth covered his face and water was being poured over it. Between buckets, he was able to breathe but only slightly, and then he was drowning again.

An eternity seemed to pass and then a voice called out to him, "If you submit to us, this will stop."

Heath shook his head vigorously. The next bucket must have contained ice. The shock of the sudden cold took all his breath away and locked his lungs. His chest burned brutally and his heart beat so rapidly it felt like it would burst within his chest. How much more time passed before it stopped, Heath did not know.

"Think about it over your next nap. Your time is running out."

A hard rap and the world faded into blissful darkness but did not bring peace. Nightmares of drownings and blood filled the darkness and Heath woke sobbing, wondering if what he was fighting for was truly worth the war he was waging.