Drifting. No pain… no real thought. Things came, passed through her mind, and then drifted away as quickly as they had come. It was as if she didn't have a body.. as if she was a speck of awareness in a vast sea of… nothing.

It wasn't frightening, despite that the thought of nothingness should have been. She knew… she was aware. And then she heard something… a whisper of sound. She would never have thought she could sit… but she was… and she opened her eyes.

There was still the dimness in her vision… but she could see someone… a man… chained… gagged…

But it wasn't really him she saw. A feeling of hunger clenched in her gut, and she found her face pressed against his throat… blinked, and felt something warm and delicious pouring down her throat… a rhythmic pounding in her skull… soothing, intoxicating… She purred against the flesh she held to herself, losing her senses in the feel of life… of quenching this thirst… this hunger…

And then she felt something. A tap on her shoulder… and yet, not a tap. She hadn't felt a hand, but she had felt someone… Her head lifted from the man's throat, and she gasped at the air, struggling to remember who she was… where she was…

And then the fog lifted from her eyes. She looked down at the man in her arms, his face pale and eyes wide… but he was not dead. She'd almost gone too far… almost… and then it hit her. No… I didn't… I can't. Lady, Lord… forgive me. Her hands pressed to the wound in his throat, and she traced a healing glyph, all the while peering about cautiously. Dante wouldn't be far…

Her body shuddered, remembering her struggle for death. She should have died. She should have been allowed to pass… and he had snared her. Trapped her. She wanted to be sick, to heave up the blood that she could still taste in her mouth, like a sweet nectar…

And she still wanted it. A cry of shame left her lips, and she gently settled the man down, before backing away. He stared at her, his breath heaving through his nostrils. He was terrified, and she somehow knew it would make his blood sweeter. Laced with adrenaline…

Her hands came up to touch her eyes, and she took a calming breath. Someone had kept her from killing the man. But no one else was in the room. So something had helped her… a spirit? Maybe? Or perhaps it was Osiris… he touched her for comfort, sometimes… could he have done it?

But her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the door open, and she lowered her hands slowly. It was Morgana. A sigh of relief swept through her, and she watched as the woman bent down near the man. There was a flicker of a smile on her face, before she turned her head to observe the shaking girl in the corner. "You managed to keep him alive…" There was a look of wonder on her face, as if she hadn't expected it.

"I… get him out of here…" Understanding flashed in Morgana's eyes, and she quickly unlocked the man's bindings, picking him up and handing him to someone outside the door. Sheyenne didn't want to know… she didn't want to know if the man was to be placed in the dungeon, or if he would be released. She was too busy trying to keep from screaming.

And she was losing time… because she could feel Morgana embracing her, holding her against her body. "Shhh… it's alright… calm down."

It's not alright… look at me. I'm a monster. I'm a creature of the Dark!

"I remember when Dante took me, Sheyenne. I thought the Gods would forsake me, leave me to him. But they didn't. They do not abandon their own, no matter how distant their voices may seem. Have faith. Keep your sanity. Believe me, you'll need to hold it tightly for the next few days… or you could lose yourself for years."

Her voice was tight with sorrow, as if she had learned that the hard way. But she continued to stroke the girl's hair. Continued to offer silent comfort. Dante would let Sheyenne recover, before he made his appearance. He'd been… amused… when he heard that she was waking. As if he had expected no less. Her instincts are too strong to allow her to die. Morgana, for the first time in a long time, wished she could kill the man.

He had no concept of rights, not anymore. He took what he wished, when he wished, and damn the consequences. He had never learned his lesson.

But Sheyenne was trembling, clinging to Morgana as if she was life itself. The thought was a bit ironic… though she would not argue. Until she heard the girl's mutters. "I have to get out… away… have to get away…"

"It wouldn't work. He Created you… he knows where all of them are, the ones he's made. And…" She hesitated for a moment, as if trying to think of a way to say it. "He would let you go for a little while… to teach you a lesson. New ones are… violent. You would not want to be alone right now, Sheyenne… If you leave, you will hear the hearts pounding in their bodies… smell their blood all around you. You won't be able to help yourself…"

Sheyenne stilled, just the descriptions of it making her jaw ache, her stomach clench in anticipation. But she would not give in to this Hunger.. she would not. After all… she was a Priestess… she would learn to control this… and she would get away. She'd run from Dante forever, if she had to.

That's right… run away Sheyenne. It would amuse me, I think.

Get out of my head.

But I don't want to. You have such pleasant thoughts… tell me, what was it like, your first feed? His heart beating faster and faster, his fear… wasn't it ecstatic? Haven't I given you a beautiful gift?

You've cursed me.

True… but I was going to do it anyways. Our little accident merely sped up the process. Run, Sheyenne… let me enjoy the show of the terror in your wake. You'll come around eventually. They all do.

She hissed, pushing herself away from Morgana, looking around the room. It was Dante's room. She had been here once… and no, she didn't want to remember why. But she did remember the weapons. He hadn't removed them… the sword was still on the dresser. She strode over to it, picked it up, and turned to look at Morgana. "This ends."

"Sheyenne…"

"No… I'm going to kill him." And then she was leaving, striding towards the doors. She knew where he was. He would be lounging in his greeting hall, smirking at his 'prowess'. She'd swipe that smirk right off his face…