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Raven stepped out of the dark forest, the deadliest calm expression on his face. The pale moonlight shone down upon him, showing the extent of the cuts and blood upon him. He wore only a pair of torn fading black pants and scuffed black shoes. He had more than twenty or so cuts on his body and most of the blood on him was his. Six gashes on his back, three on his chest and shoulders, one across his face, and he hadn't taken the time to count the ones on his legs and arms. His right hand jammed itself into his right pocket but his left arm just dangled limply at his side, it having been broken during the battle. He had run into a pack of silver lycans and they wouldn't let him go peacefully.

He wondered why he had came here to heal, as opposed to going to a healer in a different haven, but the thought didn't show on his face as he walked quietly up the cobblestone path to the maingates of the mansion. With a gentle push, he opened the gates then walked through, continuing up the path with a feeling that he had done this all before. The feeling only got worse as he entered the mansion and walked down a hallway, going to the bottom steps of a large spiral staircase. Pausing only briefly to look up, he shrugged a little and started up the stairs, his right hand slipping out of his pocket to start pulling twigs and leaves out of the tangled mass of his hair.

He was tired, barely able to focus as he slowly ascended up the staircase, his right hand now holding onto the rail to keep him from falling. Again he wondered why he was here; there was no one else around and his instincts told him to leave... but then again, he hadn't fed in a week, there was no way in hell that he was going to trust his instincts.. He'd just go where this strange pulling sensation was taking him. He hoped he'd get to where he was going soon.

After only a few minutes, he came to stop outside a large black door with a silver cross embeded into the wood. The almost sufficating feeling that he knew what was behind this door was driving him insane and he could barely take hold of the doorknob with his shaking hand. He turned it and pushed the door open, then suddenly everything blacked out.

~~Some hours later~~

Raven awoke in a hell, feeling nothing except the intense pain in his stomach. His eyes opened and he looked around to see that he was at the base of the spiral staircase, though it was hard to discern what was what through the glaze that covered his eyes. His hands went to his stomach only to pull back quickly at a sharp burn. With a hiss of frustration, he lifted his head a little to see that the silver cross that had been imbeded in the door at the top of the staircase was now impaled through him. "Damn it.." he cursed, knowing he'd have to move soon or the silver of the cross would permenatly damage him, or kill him.

He placed his hands on the stone floor on either side of him to find that his cool dark blood was congelling in a pool around him. With a roll of his eyes, he dug his fingers into the stone and began to push himself up, his body hissing as he slid wetly up the cross. Dear god it hurt and he had to clench his teeth in order to bear some of it, and to keep from screaming. What seemed like an eternity later, the arms of the cross finally pressed against him.

Shaking and feeling nausous from the pain, he almost let himself think it was hopeless. "Not hopeless..." he choked out through the blood in his mouth, "Just going.. to be... a hell of a lot more painful!" And with that, and probably his last bit of sanity, he positioned his feet and he pushed his body up in one strong jerk, pushing the arms of the cross through him with a wet tearing noise. A scream split the air as he came completely off the cross, standing on his feet for a few seconds, then it died away as he hit the floor again, this time on his stomach and away from the cross. Anger burned in his eyes as he lay shaking on the floor, a new pool of blood forming around him, as he wondered what had happened and who had done this to him. As the blackness of unconsiousness began to creep up on the edges of his vision, he drew a small symbol in the blood, a triangle surrounded by a circle, and the blood began to slowly creep back into him. His last consious thought was Damn.. that really hurt...

~The next night~

Raven awoke, coughing and spitting out blood from his mouth. He was still in pain from what he had to do in order to spare his life. The blood was gone from the hardwood floor but his wounds were still open, though now they didn't bleed. He weakly tried to get up but it just hurt too much. He needed blood to heal but he couldn't move. He was going to die here and it would be a damned death that would cast him into the fires of hell where he belonged. "Someone... Help me.." he moaned faintly, his voice little more than a whisper. He may have lived for nearly five hundred years but the thought of dieing still frightened him.