Karim came to an hour after dawn, laid out on a beggar's blanket and covered in blood. The scent of spilled gore caused Karim to shudder and tighten the fetal position he woke up in, closing his eyes tightly, as if it would make his waking nightmare go away. And as it had every time before, every heavy liquor, every breath of a water pipe, every attempt to end his own life, reality refused to bend to his desires. He could recall nothing of the previous evening save for a few flashes memory. The memories were mostly sensations; the sight of the moonlight over the desert, the cold sands beneath his feet, the taste of blood and flesh in his mouth, a rancid stench unlike any he had smelled before. But most of all he remembered a feeling of dread with no discernable source, something ominous echoing with the voice of nightmares. Just thinking about it made Karim try to force himself back to the stupor of sleep, but again he failed. His nerves were too frayed, his mind too preoccupied with uncertainty. Perhaps, he mused, it was the beast within sensing something amiss that a man could never notice. His urge to flee the alley he found himself in seemed to confirm that suspicion, and he suspected that his unease was bound to the voice of nightmares. The confusion over everything that had happened in the past few days was maddening for Karim, his utter lack of knowledge gnawing at him from within.

Despite his misgivings and urge to escape reality, Karim pulled himself off the ground. He needed water to drink and clean with; walking around the streets of Cairo drenched in blood was tantamount to suicide. He staggered upwards and then forward, each step costing him a terrible effort. This was unusual, even after nights when he succumbed to the wolf. He looked down towards his most painful ache only to discover a bullet wound marring his flesh. It took him a moment to comprehend the full ramifications, but when he did he twitched nervously. Never before had he suffered a wound that the wolf couldn't heal by the time he regained control. The prospect of someone being able to kill was at once terrifying and hopeful at the same time. Part of him, the part that had been consumed with guilt over his actions as a werewolf, wanted nothing more than a merciful death and release from his curse. The rest of him, the part that had endured far too much to give up so easily, wanted to be frightened because someone had figured out how to kill him, cursed or not. The wolf wanted to live as well, and Karim could tell even as the beast slumbered in his soul during the daylight hours.

"In that way," Karim thought to himself as he realized that he had been wounded elsewhere, "the wolf is much like any animal. Survival is all it really desires."

As he was taking stock of his situation, Karim failed to notice that a lone figure had entered the mouth of the alley. When Karim saw the man, he stopped in his tracks, unsure of how this figure would react to his own blood stained form. The man, clearly a European in the dress and features carrying a battered brown leather doctor's bag, only raised a somewhat surprised eyebrow at the sight. Cold, emotionless eyes stared at Karim for what seemed like an ungodly length of time, reminding the vagrant of being prey. He didn't like a bit, and neither did the wolf. Karim finally chose to try and walk away from the man and flee Cairo before the European could contact the police. The wolf within encouraged Karim to kill this potential threat before it could become an active threat. Wounded and exhausted, murder was well beyond Karim's capacity, despite what the wolf howled for.

"Mister Tadros," Victor Frankenstein said to Karim in a tone as cold and devoid of feeling as his demeanor.

The werewolf's heart jumped when he heard his name, eyes widening in fright. This seemed only to amuse the man, who grinned ever so slightly, an expression that only made Karim's fears worse.

"Mister Tadros, I believe we can aid one another," Victor continued, shaking his head when the ignorant street urchin refused to respond to his greeting. His eyes narrowed as Karim tried to take off running.

"Adam!" he hissed when the vagrant began his mad dash.

A massive, heavily clothed figured stepped into Karim's sight. As he skidded to a sudden halt, Karim saw into the figure's eyes for a split second. The eyes were a mismatched pair, one blue and the other brown, and a string of stitches was laid across the figure's rotted grey face. It didn't take Karim more than a moment to rethink his escape plan and run the opposite direction.

"After him," Victor said casually to his creation, tapping the device that allowed the scientist to reign in the artificial construct. The golem of flesh and metal sneered and dashed after Karim.

The monster's footsteps made a heavy thumping sound against the dirt covered alley, and Karim could feel vibrations from the earth shaking stomps. It wasn't long before Karim encountered an obstacle in the form of an iron fence blocking his path. He charged towards the fence and leapt up on to it, before frantically scrambling up the metal bars. As he reached the top of the fence, he took a split second to glance at the figure pursuing him. Massive hands, greyed and stitch covered as the face, were being put forth in front of the creature, hands lunging for the panic stricken vagrant. Karim hopped down from the fence and began running as fast as he could, secure in the knowledge that a heavy mountain of muscle like the monster behind him could never hope to scale that fence. He was half way towards the mouth of another alley and for the first time in the short day hopeful for the future, a hideous sound of metal grinding and twisting reached his ears. Karim spun his head around for another split second to the sight of the stitched figure tearing the fence apart. Adam roared with fury before charging out after Karim. It was all Karim could do to pick up his pace and pray to God that he could escape. The wolf felt the need to flee as well, although the fact that Karim was in harmony with the demon in his soul was unnerving even as there were more pressing matters chasing after him.

The thudding continued gaining on Karim, and the vagrant shot out of the alley and charged into the morning crowds. The monster followed him into the crowd, knocking a few unlucky and slow bystanders with his massive hands. The throngs of humanity fled at the sight of the apparent assault, the unnatural strength of the monster convincing many that they wanted nothing to do, let alone risk getting entangled with, whatever madness was unfolding before them. Eventually Karim began to become short of breath. He glanced backwards once again as his pace started to suffer for his exertion, and saw that his pursuer was still running at full speed, lunging for Karim like machine of iron and steam. Karim turned back towards the street in front of him, his throat burning and now painful heart pounding furiously against his chest. In the back of his mind he wished he could give into the wolf now and become that monster he so feared. But he had no such luck. Adam caught up with his prey and grabbed the spindly limbed human by his neck with a murderous look of rage in his eyes. The monster raised Karim's eyes to met its, giving the vagrant a dangerously close look at the dead eyes haphazardly placed in the grey skinned head.

"Adam," Victor said sternly to his creation, not bothering to raise his voice.

The monster snarled and dragged Karim into another alley, hurling his victim into a wall with a mighty hurl. His very breath was knocked out of his body on impact, causing Karim to whimper weakly as he laid on the ground, incapacitated from the struggles of the last few days. He raised his head just enough to see the European who commanded the monster rummaging in his bag and withdrawing a syringe. He motioned towards Karim and gave his monster a command Karim was too tired and wounded to hear over the shuddering sound of blood rushing through his head. The fiend lifted Karim again, pressing him against the wall. The European jammed the syringe and unloaded its contents into Karim's exposed arm, the chemicals taking effect within minutes of the injection. And as it had when he succumbed to the wolf, Karim blacked out.

"You can release him now, Adam," Victor said to his creation, carefully setting the used syringe back into his bag.

"And I thought the brilliant Doctor Frankenstein was above working as a petty goon," Adam said as he slowly lowered Karim to the ground.

"This vagrant, foul as he is, is the key to a secret more ancient than any embalming tricks. One that should work out better than my last discovery," Victor replied bitterly.

"You believe that lunatic Mrad's claims," Adam said disdainfully, "I must admit that even I'm disappointed in your wisdom."

"Think of it as suffering what you've done to others," Victor replied.

It was then that another set of footsteps began scuffing against the dirt alley, and the dour visage of Rafik Mrad became visible. In his hands he carried chains glittering with a white metallic sheen. Silver.

"Doctor Frankenstein," he said with a tone of restrained admiration, "Your construct never ceases to amaze me."

"Thank you Professor Mrad," Victor said in his usual cold tone, his own regard for Adam far less than Rafik's.

Hidden from the hunting party, carrying out the orders of his master, Renfield listened to the conversation carefully, intent to relaying it to his undead god on earth. He feared being discovered, but a broken neck at the hand of the monster built by the mad Frankenstein seemed more merciful than languishing in his lord's wine cellar. So he watched, and prayed to the God his master turned his back on, that he would survive to please his lord.

Rafik Mrad calmly bound the tranquilized vagrant in silver chains, while the creature beneath the illusion grinned wickedly. Death had only been the beginning; this vagrant would lead him to the end.