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He hated this part. Absolutely hated it. If only he didn’t have to. It left scars all over his arm as is he was a beaten slave. He didn’t trust them either, not at all. He wanted to scream and shout at everyone„ but that wouldn’t do any good. Maybe he could make himself disappear. One day he’d do that.

He was an older man, strung out and wiry with no fat on his protruding bones. His hair was thinning and what was left was stringy and out grown. His face was drooping and in some places stretched. His eyes had sunk into his head and permanent baggage had taken up residence beneath them. His clothes haven’t been clean for at least 10 years and were constantly sporting holes, patches, and stains of mysterious hues. He was an altogether rough-looking old man who was strung out on life.
His biography is a tragic one. His lifetime pock-marked with tragedy, drug use, alcoholism, and financial distress. He had never lived under good circumstances, even at birth. He was born addicted to drugs and heavy medication and would continue to live a life that way. Finally, drug use and alcoholism caught up with him by 40, and between 50 and 60 he had been subjected to numerous treatments for mental and physical issues. Even submitted to a psychiatric hospital, where he’s stayed for the last 3 years. His health, both mental and physical, are said to continue to deteriorate. It seems he won’t live to see 70. His liver and kidneys are shot requiring regular dialysis, his least favorite treatment. Besides the physical side effects of dialysis, he believed there was more to it than that.
Several psychiatrists had diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia but he was never able to keep up with the medications and treatment, making it worse. He firmly believed the pills contained trackers, and what pumped back into him during dialysis wasn’t his blood at all. He believed in the existence of vampires, who received his blood after dialysis and what was coming back into him was vampire blood, slowly and surely turning him into one. He kept to himself, thinking the vampire saboteurs could be anyone, anywhere. Secretly, he planned to escape and search out the vampire leader and fully turn.
Today was the day he felt was right to escape. He would literally walk out the front entrance to meet his destiny. It was cold outside, and wet. He didn’t have much to wear to be warm but as a vampire, it didn’t matter.

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