Lucian felt himself draw breath. Where had she gone? He wanted to go back to her. He felt a pang of grief strike his gut like a bullet. He opened his eyes. Where was he? He looked around. He was in a dark, metal-walled room, dimly lit by four long bulbs hanging from the grey ceiling. He tried to sit up, but the wounds in his chest panged and the silver in his bloodstream burned. He knew he didn't have much time. He should have been dead already. Mustering all his strength, he heaved himself up on his elbows and found that he was laying in a black body-bag.
'How the fuck did I get in here?' he thought. He looked to his left and saw another body laying on a table parallel to his. He recognised it as Viktors by the hideous red-leather coat he was wearing. Then Lucian noticed something odd. The vampire's chest was ripped open, exposing his ribs. Stranger still was the gold lock-like instrument fixed into them. He was about to investigate further when his veins burned again agonisingly, as if his blood had turned to acid. He knew what he had to do, and thankfully he had just the corpse he needed. He thanked God that he had injected himself with Michael's blood whilst he had the chance. If he could just infect himself with the vampire virus in Viktors veins then he would survive, and not only that, he would become a hybrid. He remembered his old friends words:
'Half vampire, half Lycan, but stronger than both.'
That had been Singe's favourite catchphrase. He took every opportunity to say it, purely because it sounded cool.
He stood up, his body pulsing with agony. He took a small, weak step before his feet gave way and he fell to the floor, knocking over a tray of medical instruments with a crash.
'Fuck.' He tried to heave himself up again, this time pulling himself up on Viktor's table. What he saw both repulsed and thrilled him. Up until now he hadn't noticed that half of the vampire's head was missing. He laughed.
'Just what the bastard deserved.' This must have been the work of that vampire girl, 'Selene' Michael had called her. The thought of drinking the vampire's blood repulsed him deeply. It was this fucker who had started it all in the first place. It was him who had killed Sonja and his child, but this was what he had to do if he wanted to live. His beloved Sonja had sent him back for a reason, whatever it was, and he would die soon if he didn't become a hybrid. Reluctantly he leant over and sank his fangs into the vampire's dead neck. The blood tasted revolting, it was thick, slimy and clotted. It took every ounce of Lucian's will power to keep himself from throwing up.
After a minute or so of drinking he stopped, he could take no more of the filth. He felt no different. The silver still burned excruciatingly and his gunshot wounds still gaped. Shouldn't something be happening by now? Maybe if he tried transforming, that might trigger it, but he found himself too weak to take his Lycan form. His heart was beginning to burn now. He knew he had but minutes left...
Then, suddenly, the burning stopped. Was it working? As if to answer his question his body was stricken with pain. Not like the normal pain of transforming, which had become bearable with experience, but like the pain he had felt when he first transformed as a child. He felt his rib-cage swell and crack, his muscles become enlarged and stronger. His face seemed to split open as his features took their new form. He looked down at his clawed hands and saw his new colour: not the dark grey of his Lycan form, but a lighter, almost blue grey of his new one. He roared with pain and power. It stopped as suddenly as it came and Lucian fell to the floor, now no longer a Lycan, nor a Vampire, but a hybrid.