I own nothing of The Blacklist nor do I make any money from this work.

PROLOGUE

Red sat in the armchair by the window, his eyes fixed on the clouds passing across the moon high up in the sky. It was just after midnight, his favourite time. He could feel himself relax, his muscles slowly becoming less tense as he continued to stroke the neck of the woman kneeling at his feet.

She was between his legs, completely naked. Her eyes were also fixed outside the window but for her the fascination was not shared. Although she had been with him several times in the last few years, she had not yet grown fully accustomed to his ways or his needs. His very specific needs. She tried hard to keep calm, knowing no real harm would come to her, it never had. But she also knew what was about to happen would be painful.

Red's hand started to move faster and to press down around her neck more firmly. He was close. Just a few more minutes and it would be time. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, his cock responding to the smell of her fear. He took little pleasure in causing anyone to be scared of him but in these moments he could not help himself. He had needs that could not be ignored. If they were not taken care of, he would not survive.

When the time came, it happened fast, as it always did. Leaning forward, he tilted her head to the side and licked her throat, starting just behind her carotid and ending up at the front, by her larynx. Holding her steady, he fixed his mouth to her pulse point and bit down hard.

Twenty minutes later, Dembe was making the woman comfortable in another bedroom. She was placed on a saline drip and then allowed to rest. She would be paid handsomely in the morning when she left. She had come willingly and would be free to leave. Red had never had to force anyone to help him sate his appetite and he never would. He'd die first.

Coming back into Red's room, Dembe picked up the woman's clothing and glanced over at Red, who was sitting still in his armchair. Dembe knew he wouldn't move now until morning.

'Good night, Raymond. I'll take care of her tomorrow. Get some rest'.

Red smiled at his friend, feeling better than he had for days. He knew for his own health he should be doing this far more often than he did but he kept it to the bare minimum. The guilt he felt had never fully diminished. The shame of having such an unusual appetite. The sheer necessity that in order for him to live, he had to cause pain to others.

'I'll try, Dembe. At least that's it for another week', he said, managing a sad, rueful smile. Dembe left the room, closing the door behind him.

Red looked up at the moon again, now fully visible, the clouds having dispersed entirely. He wondered for the thousandth time why he had to be this way. It hadn't always been like this but it had been now for so long he barely remembered a time before it. Shaking his head as if to get rid of such unhelpful thoughts, he looked down at the bulge in his trousers and reached to pull down his zipper. He wouldn't be able to relax fully unless this was also taken care of. Cupping himself, he set a brutal rhythm, taking very little joy from the action of bringing about his release.

Tomorrow he would turn up back at the Post Office as if nothing unusual had happened. He would spend the day helping to find more Blacklisters with Lizzy and the team. He would come home in the evening and feel just as alone and full of self-loathing as he did now. It was all he knew.