<div style="margin-left: 20px"><i>“You don’t need to be a murderer,” Nik said matter-of-factly as he propped the boy up in bed with another pillow tucked behind his back. “Frustration. Fear. Those are making you angry, but there’s no reason for you to be a murderer. Not anymore.”<br/>
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“It’s what I want!” Adriel growled in frustration. No matter how fierce he tried to appear, with both arms missing and his legs crippled, he was hardly any threat to the vampire.<br/>
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Nik ducked his head to hide a faint smile, turning away to focus on stirring the muesli he had made his guest. With the right care, he didn’t doubt the boy would be back on his feet and stronger than ever. “I suspect you want what most of us do: self-esteem, belonging, love, affection, safety. We must first make your <i>body</i> whole, then your mind, then your heart. There is an order to these things,” the vampire explained as he held up a spoonful of rolled oats; nuts; seeds; and dried fruit to the boy’s lips.<br/>
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Adriel turned away from the food, scowling as he muttered, “I’d rather be dead.”</i>​</div><br/>A murderer. That’s exactly what he was. No matter how he tried to escape the boy he’d been, his default was to kill anything and everything around him. Adriel didn’t watch as the jailor examined the bodies. The last thing he wanted was to have those faces seared in his memory after what he had done.<i>It was a mercy</i>, he told himself. None of them would have made it from this place alive, yet he couldn’t silence that voice in the back of his mind taunting him for not even having made an attempt to save his fellow prisoners.<br/><br/>“No,” he growled weakly, “I didn’t need the ‘markings’. They’re just… fucking tattoos.” Adriel’s breath had grown shallow, even talking more effort than he wanted to put forth right then. His body hung limp in the chains, yet that only seemed to place more stress on his shoulders and back. A muscle in his right flank began to tighten, threatening to spasm if he didn’t relieve the pressure on it soon.<br/><br/>Without even realizing the man had crossed the room, Adriel found himself looking into rich, red eyes once more. “Tell me… your name first. I think that’s more than fair… Information for a name,” he countered.<br/><br/>Not a wolf. Something deeper than anger stirred within him at the words he knew could not be true. Nik said he was a wolf. Nik was not a liar. Before Adriel could object, however, the blaring of a siren pierced the air. His heartbeat ticked up a notch with a fresh surge of adrenaline, though it did little to help when the jailor released his chains. Flesh and bones hit the floor with a heavy thud and a grunt of pain. What did he do? “I- I don’t know,” he gritted out, hands finding the wall as he pushed himself to his feet.<br/><br/>The bleached tips of his hair were stained with blood - his own and others - while what was left of his clothing was torn and dirty. For someone as vain as Adriel tended to be, there was little to be done to ‘fix himself’. He glanced down at what he had to work with, then snorted softly and looked back up at the jailor with a raised eyebrow as he wiped his hands on the front of his pants. “This is as pretty as I’m gonna get with… with these accommodations, “ he tried to smirk. The bite of his words was minimized by the way he leaned back against the wall he’d hung from only moments ago. Taking a deep breath, he finally stepped away from it and gave the man a short nod.