Elric does not just maul my neck; I start to feel his sharp claws digging into my lower torso, beginning to sink into the flesh there as if my skin is water that gives under his touch. He draws his face away from the wound, looking into my gaze as his claws sink in deeper. It is a new type of pain, blossoming from the tips of his claws and spreading throughout my abdomen with horrible swiftness. I squirm, writhing under his touch as if it can ease the pain.

“I’m going to rip out your small intestine and make you eat it,” he whispers to me, stroking the side of my face with his free hand.

Elric is suddenly knocked away from me by a force I can’t see. He’s down on the ground with Vincent on top of him. I can feel blood dripping from my neck and look at the puncture wounds on my stomach – they’re not as deep as I’d feared; he was toying with me, after all, he wanted to make it last. But still, blood is trickling from the puckered wounds.

“And I thought tonight would be dull,” Elric says. He’s up on his feet, Vincent close at his heels, and my eyes can’t follow their movements. Vincent is enraged, primal growls escaping his lips as he lunges for the werewolf. I hear the slam of their bodies connecting, and my hair blows past my face, letting me know they are fighting. Elric’s laughter sends shivers up my spine. There is a terrible crunching sound before a hand suddenly falls in front of me and I let out another scream. I can’t tell if it is Vincent’s or Elric’s, but the fighting doesn’t stop.

I follow their movements through the drops of blood that are left in their wake. I can tell that Vincent is trying to keep the fighting away from me while Elric pushes towards me. I’m the weakness.

“Don’t hold back,” I whisper, because I don’t have the ability to speak any louder. “Please stop thinking about me.”

For the first time, I feel something brush against my mind; maybe it is because the loss of so much blood has weakened me, but I believe Vincent is there. His presence in my head is not invasive, it is warm and soothing. A strange comfort, as if he has taken me out of this hellhole to someplace warm and clean and safe, where I can wash away the blood and grime. There is a promise to take me there, no words spoken, just a vow to make up for all the pain he has caused me.

The fighting intensifies as the vision fades. I relax back against the chair, my pain still with me, but dulled somehow. And then I feel someone cutting at the straps that hold me in place. I open my eyes, and Damon is in front of me. He’s sweating, out of breath from running.

“You found me,” I murmur.

“You just…vanished. But Vincent smelled your blood and took off after you. I’m not as fast,” he says. I can hear the defeat in his tone. He touches my cheek, removes his shirt and places it on the wound on my neck. “Amy, I’m so sorry.”

Then he is pulling away from me and now that his shirt is gone, I can see how heavily armed he is. Various weapons are strapped over his chest, secured around his waist, bound to his forearms. Somehow he is able to track the blurred movements of the fighting creatures, and he pulls out one of his guns and takes aim at Elric. The gun goes off, and my ears hear nothing but ringing as the sound reverberates through the sewage system.

For a moment, Vincent and Elric pause in their fighting. Vincent is holding a gleaming silver sword, and I’m happy to see it is Elric’s hand that is missing. But Vincent is severely wounded – It looks like Elric’s claws have sliced halfway into his neck. Elric’s clothes are shredded to pieces. He is drenched in vivid red blood. I can’t tell if more of it is his, or mine, or Vincent’s.

Damon fires another round into Elric, missing the heart, and Elric charges at him, only to run into the steel force of Vincent, who pushes him against the wall. Elric claws at Vincent, and I see bone where there should be flesh, but Vincent is unflinching.

“Hurry up, hunter. I can’t hold him for long,” he snarls.

Damon pulls a silver dagger from one of the holsters on his pants. He moves with the grace of a mountain lion before slipping between the two. Quickly, he plunges the silver into Elric, who lets out a wolf like howl. Vincent lets go of him, and both men stand back. I watch the werewolf scream in agony before his body slowly becomes lifeless.

The figures of the murdered girls start to vanish. I watch them wave to me, their bodies reconstructing themselves into what they looked like before they died – beautiful, young girls who had lives, futures ahead of them. Jane smiles sadly at me as her form vanishes from sight.

Strong arms scoop me up out of the chair. The chest I am leaned against is cold, and I look up to see Vincent, who looks frightening, hurt badly enough that he can’t pretend at a human form.

“You need a hospital,” he says, though I can feel the want in his eyes as he looks at the open wound on my neck.

“And you’re not in the best condition to take her,” Damon says, sword drawn and placed against Vincent’s throat.

“Correct. I must feed,” and he stares at me longer than I’m comfortable with. I put a weak hand over my neck to cover the wound. “You’ve lost too much blood, Amy. Don’t fear from me. I have enough control to lead both you and Damon to the nearest hospital.”

“Maybe I should carry her,” Damon says.

“We will move quicker if I do it.” And I feel Vincent’s arms holding me closer to his form, as if he does not want to let me go, as if he wants to make sure I’m still real and alive.

“Let’s not fight, and just get on with it,” I say, resting my head against Vincent’s chest and closing my eyes. I feel so dizzy.

Vincent walks fast but not fast enough that Damon can’t keep up. We turn corners in the tunnels, splashing through the gunk before stopping at a ladder that leads up to the real world. It is here that Vincent hands me over to Damon, with some reluctance, to push the manhole cover away. He takes me from Damon again and crawls up, setting me on the sidewalk outside a hospital. He presses his lips quickly against mine, sending a wave of unwarranted pleasure through my aching body.

“Until we meet again, Amy,” he says, then he jumps down into the sewer. Gone as if he was never there.

Damon comes up the manhole, shuts it, and picks me up, walking towards the hospital. I don’t know what he did with all his weapons, but he only has a gun at his side. I suppose walking into a hospital fully armed wouldn’t be the greatest thing in the world. My head falls against his chest, listening to his beating heart and taking comfort in how alive it feels. My eyes close and I can’t help but welcome the darkness that overcomes me.