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Pey was stalking off back towards Bassett's current home at the mansion of his Master Galvin. He was about halfway down the block when he heard another loud noise, a grating metallic noise, followed by Bassett's faint shouts. The demon sneered, puffing his chest full. This was probably another ruse, just another trick to get Pey galloping back to the soldier's rescue! The demon seethed quietly. He wasn't that easily bended, especially not being humiliated like that! Not again, Pey promised, would he be tricked like that by some damned mortal with a guilt problem who can't even stand up against him! Enough of it!

The Nameless continued on, brows heavily furrowed and teeth grating against each other.

His cries getting hoarse, Bassett took several huge gasps, each one painful for his compressed chest to take. He felt the metal beginning to press harder and harder into his skin. When Neil stepped on the metal, the soldier had released a blood-curdling cry and writhed more. The metal had begun to cut into his skin and it was really beginning to take its toll on Bassett. His body was tense, full with the pain from the weight of metal staircases and landings upon his back. He whimpered loudly, cursing in his soldier tongue as he did so, and begged Neil back to the rubble of the stairwell.

"Neil! He's not coming? Ugh...Aah!! Neil, please! Please, get it off!! It's too heavy!" Bassett Ellery pleaded, "Oh god, Neil! Help!"

It was just as Bassett was beginning to roll through his darkening vision, being crushed by the sheer weight upon his body, that it finally lifted up and off him. His compressed lungs were finally able to stretch and stretch they did in one large heaving gasp for air. The oxygen rush into his lungs caused Bassett to choke and he began to cough, each jerk wracking his body with pain. With each breath, Bassett gave a whimpering wheeze into the wet cement and the single attempt of turning his head to look up at Neil made the soldier grimace.

Somehow, a primal switch turned on in the back of Bassett's head and he reverted back to war time tactics. If you were down, you had to get up. Nothing else. Just down, then up. So with the struggle of his arms, the youth attempted to drag himself up from the cold concrete, but sharp stabs of pain sliced through his limbs and he collapsed again to the ground. Down, up, he thought, down, up!

"N-neil!" the soldier gasped, "Up...I need to get up..." He shifted again, trying to get his knees underneath him but he gave a sharp cry of anguish. His sides! His sides hurt so much...It must be his ribs.

Somewhere down the street, his nose still pinched tightly in a toothy scowl, Pey paused for a moment in his step and his pointed ears perked.

What was that noise? He thought.

The soldiers body was racked with pain, his clothes were cut and blossoming in red through were the metal had sawed into his skin and he could feel bruises welling in the areas where the stairwell had rested its full weight. His chest ached and it hurt to even breathe or make a sound. Bassett hadn't felt this kind of pain before. Sure, he felt bullet wounds, broken bones, and shrapnel, but none of that compared to being crushed underneath those stairs. When Neil carefully maneuvered Bassett into his arms, the soldier released hitching gasps and keening wails of agony.

Bassett could hear Neil apologizing with every breath and the soldier wished he could say, "Dog's knees, this is nothing compared to war," but he simply couldn't piece the words together. Drifting into a haze, the youth could almost imagine that Neil was a soldier as well, picking up his torn body from the battlefield and racing towards the trenches for safety.

"M-m-medic...!" Bassett cried loudly, eying his clothes where they were speckled with red. He had once trained under a medic, when he first entered the army and he knew the first thing to do to wounds was apply pressure and salt to help the wounds clog up. He fumbled a little in Neil's arms, trying to find an open wound that he could press his hand against and whimpered, "Pressure...P-pressure..."

Down the street, furrowing a brow was Pey. He was hearing the cries and the sounds of more metal things being shifted about. Perhaps they were still going at it, trying to convince him with noise to come back and "save Bassett", but the demon didn't care. He wasn't going to be fooled again, nor was his pride going to be stabbed like it was just moments ago. Bassett could take care of himself and Pey knew that from his previous observations.

How stupid did those mortals think he was?

Giving a huff, Pey continued strolling down the street towards Bassett's home at Galvin's mansion.

Around the time that the noise suddenly stopped and Galvin, invisible, stumbled to the car, Pey stopped again. He didn't see the traces of blood, but he, sure as hell, could smell it! Twisting around he sniffed the air again. For sure, it was Bassett's blood! Pey could smell that raunchy delicious scent from miles away. Turning on his heel, intrigued by the smell, the demon made his way back to the alleyway.

Bassett whimpered in pain as he was laid down into the chair of the car, feeling his clothes underneath him squelch with blood. He shifted slightly, stretching himself out in his agony, wailing softly as he struggled to suck in breath after heaving breath. He knew that he was maneuvered into the car by something other than Neil, but the soldier couldn't see the body of the mysterious force. He could only assume that it was Neil's demon, but his thoughts could only stay on the train tracks for so long before he was derailed by another sharp stab of pain. He felt that the car was not mobing and the stall for a moment, worried him. He shifted wildly, trying toturn his head and see his companion.

"N-n-neil," his keening cry stammered. He tried to shift his arm over to the man, but the effort made him grimace and whimper, "Uuup, up." Why was the man stalling?

Pey came at last to the alleyway that he had left moments before, his nostrils flaring, taking in the luscious delightful smell of Bassett Ellery's blood. He was confused. In the alleyway, there was no longer the familiar bodies of his summoner and his supposed companion, but a twisted heap of metal stairways propped unceremoniously against the brick walls and trash bins. That was odd. Where could his summoner have gone? Glancing around, inverted eyes peering like a hawk's eye over the surroundings, he took a sniff again, following the scent like a demon blood hound. His steps became quicker as the scent became stronger and in no time, Pey found himself standing before a car.

Something twisted at his stomach and the Nameless demon suddenly felt that something was wrong. Flipping in front of it, so that it didn't try to go anywhere, Pey stacked his spine back up upon itself in a gruesome manner, cracking his neck as he stepped closer, nose flaring.

"What has happened to my summoner?!" Pey bellowed, stalking near.

Bassett heard something going on. His grip lasted for only so long upon his friend's bloodied hand, before he felt it slip away. Blearily rolling his head ever so slightly from side to side, the soldier glanced around with foggy eyes, opening and closing his mouth as if he weren't quite sure that he was in a body at all. The softest of gestures, this stretching of pain, made Bassett gasp in soft pants of anguish.

"Oh...god..." he moaned with a strained voice.

Pey wasn't about to take orders from anyone, but then again, Pey needed to get to his human. He was tempted to tear the car piece by piece, but judging by their current situation, they needed it to get somewhere, and get somewhere quick. Not only that but something strange happened where Neil suddenly drowned in a pit of darkness, something strange, something inhuman. Something that Pey reasoned was not to be toyed with.

"Drive!" he barked, "My human needs help!"

Growling a snarl that stretched from one ear to the other, the Nameless followed the instructions and he lumbered over to the opened door, sliding into the car. His inverted eyes locked immediately on Bassett's form and suddenly Pey's hunger soared as well as his anger. Leaning over and stuffing himself in between the seats, the demon hovered right over his summoner's form.

All that blood, all that precious blood...Wasted.

Well, only one thing to do now, Pey thought, and he lowered himself to his summoners level and, with a long spindly tongue, began to lick the blood off of Bassett's face.

Pey almost purred when the Prince commented upon his human. Jealous pride welled up in his chest like a blooming poisoned flower as he finished cleaning up the soldier's blood from the upper areas he could reach. Of course, Bassett was a great find! He was the terror of the battlefield, a youth with a mind programmed to slaughter and kill, a child with the mind of a monster! Of course, now that they were off the battlefield, it was completely hidden. However, Pey could still feel that monster within his human, buried deep but still alive, pulsing and breathing, ticking like a watch enveloped in cotton. Pey loooooved it.

"Thank you kindly, Prince," the Nameless demon gurgled happily, "He is unlike any warrior I've ever seen before." As Pey slunk back to wait like a vulture beside Astaroth's side, he watched a mob of people in white jackets and uniforms rush to the car.

"Watch," he murmured, fuming quietly, "I don't want to watch. I want to make sure that my human is pumped full of blood so I can suck it out again. That's what I want to do."

Bassett could hardly keep open his eyes long enough to watch as a mob of fine people in white clothing ripped open the door to the vehicle. They wasted no time when it came to listening to Neil's garbled instructions. As he was carefully pried from the car seat in his sticky clothing, he murmured things, incoherent sentences about the men lost on the battlefield, how he had tried to save them, and how he needed a medic. A man scuttled out of the building with a gurney and Bassett's body was carefully moved onto the white sheet, his cries splitting the air.

Things were okay, Bassett was in the arms of the medical staff.

The people of the hospital didn't ignore Neil, however. Almost as quickly as a team was dispatched to the car, another attached themselves to Neil. Another gurney was wheeled out and a woman tried to gently push Neil onto it's white sheet, "Sir, lay down on the gurney. We need to see your wounds."