Steven woke, in the darkness, confused and disoriented. He sniffed the air to the scent of fresh blood. Tons of fresh blood somewhere. It would be the first thing to assault vampire senses in this dark place. Blood, red delicious flowing blood which he was chained to and unable to reach, and indulge in. This dark dungeon was hell, pure and utter torment.

A man clothed completely in black from head to toe, entered the room where Steven was in chains.

"Let me go you stupid fuck, we'll see how tough you are when I'm no longer in these chains."

A mortal went walking by pushing a wheelbarrow full of ashes through the halls of the dungeons.

The captor, who obviously was not very happy with the speed or quality of his work, pulled a whip from his side and sent it cracking against the mortals naked back. "Move faster. We need to get this place cleaned up before the master arrives.

"Let me go, let me go now...." Steven fought against the chains.

The mysterious captor merely laughed at Steven and walked away.

While he watched, a woman was moved over to a machine used by the vampires to extract blood from mortals

and vampires alike to sell in the black market.

Steven realized now the absolute danger he was in. He began working on formulating a plan. If he did not, he would be reduced to ashes and he would never leave this place alive.

Two of the mortal workers moved over to him, preparing to unlock his wrists from the manacles and lead him over to be drained dry.

Steven struck then. There was no room for mistakes, no room for error. He grabbed one of the mortals by the neck and broke his neck tossing him aside. The other mortal's throat he tore clean out, letting the blood from the wound pour into his parched throat. He didn't have as much time as he would have liked to enjoy this kill.