The light in the hallway kept flickering on and off. Amiel, exhausted from a long day which was not yet over, shut the door so that the light would stop bothering him, and went back to work.

The body on the slab this time was covered in sutures. It was the victim in a homicide, and the autopsy had left its fair share of marks. That was also why it was so easy for Amiel to get at its heart, though. Valerian would have not only his heart, but the physical hearts of others... But how would he go about it? Did the imp need it to be prepared, like a human would want meat cooked? Raw slices? Something more liquid...? What if it didn't like the taste? Amiel had never been very good at considering the culinary needs of others, but standing there with the heart in a dish he simply didn't know what to do.

What if he fed it and it exploded, or went in a violent rage, because it had been done wrong? It hadn't been very long since he had contracted Valerian. Amiel stopped himself from pressing the back of his gloved hand against his forehead like he usually did when he was thinking hard- it wouldn't do to smear blood on his skin.

Amiel's legs wobbled and almost gave out. Lately he had been so exhausted... perhaps it was the strain of his pact with the imp? Valerian was, at that time, sleeping on Amiel's shoes. He had a dish of milk in front of him, and kept leaning over so he didn't have to move at all to drink if he felt like it. Just opened his maw and sloshed around in the beverage. It was disgusting for Amiel, he tried not to think on it.

Amiel felt dizzy again, and he pressed at the bandages underneath his glove. Valerian kept biting him, for no apparent reason. It seemed like it was just fun for him. Amiel walked over to the sink, dislodging Valerian. He didn't get far; a clashing sound startled him. Somehow, Valerian had climbed up the table. Amiel looked over just in time to see Valerian tip his head back, the heart disappearing down between his sharp teeth.

That was all it would take...? Valerian paused, stared at him, and Amiel returned to the table. He picked the dish up off the floor, and while he was bent over, Valerian climbed onto his shoulders and attached there.

"You really do look like you have no soul..." Amiel mumbled to him, catching a glimpse of Valerian's glowing white eyes as he dislodged the imp and it settled on his feet. The imp was also quite lazy, apparently; Amiel scooped it up again and cleaned up the station, preparing to rest.

If that was all it took to feed Valerian, this would be easy.