Which means she can't be real.

Anything he sees that others don't is suspect. She's likely a figment in his mind from another's memory. Someone that he's drunk had known her as a wife, a mistress... or one of their own victims.

He strains harder against the chains. Nothing. Metal like this shouldn't be able to hold him. Unless... Mystickally reinforced.

Damn his brothers to hell! Why in the fuck would they bring him here? This place feels wrong, menacing. He doesn't know how or why. Doesn't care. Just know I have to get free.

Suddenly the smell of roses surrounds him. I'm not alone in this room. Though he sees nothing, there's another presence here. Is it the female from before? Was there a female before? He begins to sweat.

Something is inches from him, creeping closer... he could swear he feels warm breaths against his ear. He writhes, baring his fangs in warning. The need to kill seethes inside him.

Closer... closer...

From directly beside his ear he scarcely hears a voice. He can't make out the faltering words.

But he senses expectancy—a yearning that hits him in roiling waves. His head feels like it's about to explode. He's supposed to do something. "What? What?" He doesn't know... doesn't know what he's supposed to do...

He hates this need he senses.

"Seeeeee meeeeee?" the faint voice says. He jerks his head back and forth. Sees nothing.

He lunges upright, feeling a shock of something, like static electricity.

Conrad's body drifted through hers, making her gasp and him shudder.

He stumbled to his feet. Confusion appeared to mount within him. "Someone's here. Real?" His voice sounded even raspier than last night.