Rage and pain, those were the only two emotions and sensations that Athan lived in for the next week. From club to club he went, he fed and he killed. That cold distant look returned to his eyes and for the first time in many years Colt was actually afraid of him. News reports were all over the place of some serial killer who liked to murder people and drain them of their blood. A killer so cunning that they had yet to capture him on any of the security footage, no matter how many cameras there were, he just never showed up on the film.<br/><br/>The news was filled with footage of the happy clubbers as they danced, drank and socialized, and then there was a blur before the lenses, as if the camera went out of focus for a moment. When it came back into focus the room was piled with the dead. Blood covered the walls, throats were ripped out, other bodies were thrown atop bars where they were then dissected and left to bleed slowly to their death. It was just plain carnage, death for the sake of death with no true rhyme or reason to it. Colt had tried to quell his temper, tried to keep him in check, but it only ended up with them fighting, which was better than what he had been doing. Colt happily took the brunt of Athan’s anger as it saved more innocent lives.<br/><br/>By the time he cooled off enough to be left on his own, Colt was a battered mess and missed a couple of rehearsals because of it. Still, that did not stop him from calling Tempest, just to see if she was alright. Honestly, he was not sure if she would even answer him, but he was not about to not check on her. She was his friend and now that Athan was done being a psychopathic ass, he could focus completely on her.<br/><br/>The phone rang a couple of times and he prepared himself to leave another voicemail, like he had been doing this past week.