Darkness.

Blissful, sweet final darkness.

For Hal, the oblivion would be welcome and complete if it wasn't for the slow coming aware of a small discomfort. His reawakening came with the throbbing of an immense headache.

Lifting himself slowly and forcing movement into overly stiff limbs, he squinted in the dark. Just the palest thread of light was visible. A silver sliver that would have been imperceptible to human eyes. But being what he was it was almost enough for him to begin to piece together where he was.

In all honesty, it was the smell of faded wolf that gave his befuddled head the clue he needed.

After ages of constant vigilance he was finally alone.

They had relocated him to the basement. The basement which was capable of holding a full grown werewolf in all its fury.

The basement which Hal knew, would fail to hold him the moment his blood lust returned and the demon took control.

After standing upright in the darkness Hal was frozen with the realisation. He remained that way for several long, deep breaths. And then he moved.