The two stared at each other. Chosen Vampire, and Chosen Slayer, born to be enemies from before either had even had the misfortune to meet. "Well," Jonno breathed out, smirking easily in the silence that fell from his words. "So much for the great 'Chosen One'." He gave a mocking laugh, "you walked right into my trap and you never even saw it coming." Vlad shifted slightly again, lifting himself by the shackles slightly, before resettling. The clanking issued forth. "Uncomfortable?" Jonno asked. Vlad tilted his head, but didn't answer, and any attempt at fake joviality fell from Jonno's face. "Good."

"And what trap do you think they've got set for you?" Vlad's voice was entirely too calm for the situation that he was currently in, all facts considered. Jonno frowned slightly, and now it was Vlad's turn to smirk. "Come on Jonno," he said, "you're a smart boy." He nodded at Melech and Strigoi. "You've probably read their files. Do they include what they did to that Persian slayer?" he asked, curiously. "Horrific, yeah, but what they can't do with a corpse isn't worth knowing really," he commented casually. "Artists, the both of them." The slyer girl behind Jonno shifted uncomfortably, drawing Vlad's attention. He eyed her up and down, letting his gaze linger over her. "Pretty little thing," he said.

"She's a trained slayer!" Jonno snapped. Someone was protective. Vlad gave a mocking 'ooh', deliberately shaking his shackles to irritate Jonno all the more. He'd gotten to him already, Vlad could tell. He watched Jonno's gaze flicker between Vlad, and then to Melech and Strigoi. He doesn't know if he can trust them, Vlad realised, biting back the laugh that wanted to come. He thought they were going to keep their word with a slayer. Blood and fog, but Jonno was an idiot. "Melech. Strigoi. Erin," Jonno said eventually, talking to the three others in the room. "Leave us." He commanded. The order was followed.

"Bet you've been waiting seven years to get to say that little phrase," Vlad commented. "You never did explain how the mind-wipe faded, by the way." He shrugged as best as he could manage hanging from his arms. "If you're planning on killing me, least you could do is enlighten me as to how the Slayer's Guild managed to get around it." Jonno began moving about the room, turning his back on Vlad as he worked at something which Vlad couldn't see. "You know, I miss the days when you kept asking me for tips with Ingrid, you would have made the most nauseating couple." Jonno gave a scoff, but still didn't turn round. Vlad was getting bored of this.

Jonno picked up a knife. He came closer to Vlad and began to cut his shirt open. "If you wanted me shirtless-"

"Shut up," Jonno growled, jabbing the knife point into Vlad's stomach. "Your voice is the most irritating thing I've ever had to endure," he said, "and training is really nothing to write home about." He continued his work, ripping the fabric away when done. Vlad stared, but said nothing. He knew what was going to happen. Well, not details exactly, but he had experience of this set up from the war. Melech and Strigoi were really the kind for sharing their … favourite ways to play.

There was a bowl, with a yellow-white liquid in it. Jonno dipped the knife in the liquid, covering the blade in it entirely. Vlad could have sworn it hissed. Jonno picked up the knife and came closer to him. "Now, how about we play a little game?" He began cutting into Vlad's skin.

Garlic juice. That's what the liquid was. Vlad grunted; he wasn't going to give Jonno the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

Hours later, and Jonno had grown bored of carving him up with garlic juice and letting it almost heal only to begin again. Well, even the best games have their limits. Vlad, exhausted, and too sore from the garlic juice to lift his arms, had been taken down from the shackles, and dragged unceremoniously along to a cage made of agrentalium. The bars were coated in garlic sealant They really weren't taking any chances with him. The metal prevented him from using his powers, and he was too weak to fight back.

"They say you're a killer," the blonde slayer – Erin – was standing outside of his cage. She was meant to be keeping guard, but instead, seemed insisted on talking to him. "This great Vladimir Dracula, slayer of thousands," she looked at him. "You're not even older than me," she said. There was a noise, Vlad barely managed to glance up, seeing the keys of the cage on her belt. If he had the strength, it would matter. But he didn't. He began to drag himself over to the bars. "What are you doing?"

"Can I have a drink?" Erin looked panicked. "Of water," Vlad added, coughing. "Throat's a little raw," he explained. Erin nodded, and fetched him a plastic cup of water. She held it out to him, and, with great showing of his pain, he took the cup and sipped from it. "Thanks," he said, "for the water. Not many slayers would be that kind." He tapped the side of the cup with a nail, and looked up at her. His hair dropped in his eyes slightly, and he knew he must look a sight. "It wasn't thousands," he said. "I'm a soldier, not a slayer. Think that's your job."

"I knew you weren't what they said," Erin smiled softly at him. Vlad smiled back. She moved so she was sitting nearer the cage, gesturing for him to do the same. With effort, he was able to. She looked at him. "You called me pretty, earlier," she ducked her head, clearly embarrassed.

"You are," Vlad said, before coughing. "I'm a vampire, I'm not a liar."

Erin gave a soft laugh. "You're not really that bad, are you?" she said. "I bet you're not as terrible as people think."

Vlad gave his own soft laugh. "Erin who can always see the truth," he said, looking out at her. "Is that what it is?"

"I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character," she responded. She tucked some hair behind her ear. With effort, Vlad forced himself into a better sitting position, and carefully reached his arm out between the bars. There was a trail of dried blood running down the fingers, but Erin didn't seem to mind it when he was stroking her cheek.

"You know Erin," he said, looking deep into her eyes, "I think this time," his expression hardened, "you're completely wrong." Erin panicked but there was nothing she could do. Vlad's fingers and dug into her cheek and with one smooth movement, he had snapped her neck. "Irritating know it all," he muttered, shifting again to grab the keys. With some effort – because he was sore, just not as sore as he was making out – he let himself out of the cage. He stretched his neck, and bared his fangs.

"Now," he said, "I'm hungry."