Blade looked around him at the large open space that resembled an ancient Roman arena with a much sturdier roof than the Romans would have used. It was the most space he had seen in at least a month. The arena was large; basically a pit with high reaching walls and then started the seats for the spectators. At the center of the ring stood a pedestal with his weapons. It was almost like an invitation to fight.

"Blade," came a voice from above, however the day-walker did not react, instead he picked up his sword and examined it carefully, checking the blade for any rough edges and even looked over the trap at the handle. The voice continued, "I bet it feels good to stretch your legs. Glad to have that shave? And hair cut? Thought you might. You can thank Frost's library. It was rather extensive." There was a pause, replaced by footfalls and out of the corner of his eye, Blade saw an old looking vampire with gray hair. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Dragen. My apologizes for not being able to speak to you sooner, I was just busy organizing you ten minutes of fame in the ring."

Blade smiled and looked up at the vampire. "It's going to take longer than just ten minutes."

Dragen smirked in return and leaned over the railing around the pit. "We shall see, now won't we?" The vampire left with that question and a chuckle hanging in the air.

Blade was left there to contemplate his future. He was truly alone, no one would notice his disappearance. His hope of survival was dwindling fast and now he doubted for the first time that he would get out alive. Anger swelled within his heart. How could this happen? He wanted to blame Ha'Dre. He wanted her drive a silver stake into her heart but he could just imagine his hand coming just short of doing it. She had saved his life after all, had done nothing to harm him yet he treated her like an enemy. No, she was not his problem. He was his own problem; deep down he knew it. The man knew that had looked worse, just that this time, he didn't have a friend behind the wall or in the compound. It was almost as if every door of escape had been triple locked.

He pushed away his thoughts of despair and concentrated on the task at hand. If he was lucky enough, he may have a chance to get his ass out of the frying pan, he just had to watch for the opening.

"Now, let's see what's here," he muttered to himself as he went back to examine his weapons.