Grey sat in the corner of his hotel room. On the bed lay his long coat, his black suit jacket and pants, his grey shirt and his weapons. Knives. 8 of them in total. 5 throwers, his fighting knife and his two long thin daggers. Grey walked over to the mirror and starring at his blurred reflection. He looked into the gray amalgamation of haze, smoke and unintelligible matter. Grey, no Conner, Starred into gray mass and watched it form into a child.

A child no older then eight, blood covering his hands a Gas Mask over his face. Only a soft faint red glowed from behind the black masks eyes. Grey turned away and sat at the end of the bed. He looked into the mirror Not breaking eye contact from the little boy.

"What do you see Conner?"

"Leave me alone"

"Why Conner? Isn't now when you need me the most"

"No it isn't. I don't need you..."

"But Conner you are weak without me."

"I am nothing of the sort."

"You are partially correct. You are Nothing."

"Quiet."

"Don't you have anything to say to the little boy."

"No I don't. That boy is not there. That is either my imagination or you messing with my mind."

Conner hears that evil laugh again, "A figment of your imagination? How do you know I am not a figment of your imagination."

"I don't"

"I know how, because I can do this." Conner looks down and sees his his fighting knife slowly being driven into his leg. Conner's hand wrapped around the handle.

"Stop it."

"Why? Why should I?"

Conner feels that blade slide up and down within the wound several times and sees as he is powerless to stop it. The Pain is excruciating. Conner feels the blade slide along the bone of his femur and carve into it. Finally the motion stops and Conner looks down and sees the blade just sitting in his leg like a sheeth.

Conner removes the blade from his thigh and forces down Vitae to heal the wound. Conner Quickly cleans the blade and dresses. Putting on his pants and shirt. He looks back to the mirror and the child is still there, His unwavering glare looking directly into and through Conner.

Conner now dressed and armed picks up his mask and with the sigh of a junkie getting a fix, Or a child being given his blanket, he slides the mask over his face.

Grey feels whole again, his leg still tingles some and he knows he will need to eat soon. As Grey turns to leave the Motel room he looks back for just a moment to see that the child is gone. A smile crosses Grey's Inner Face as he closes and lockes the door behind him.

Thuggish Feeding