Bagged Blood

The whirring of the door lock startled me and I rose to see who was entering. This time, it wasn't Nadia, but a guard who I hadn't seen in my brief glimpse into the hall earlier.

The man entered, placed a bag of blood on the counter and backed out in an oddly graceful backpedal, never turning his back to me. Though he didn’t pull a weapon, it was evident that he was armed and that he was treating me as a threat he didn’t understand and, therefore, must give his utmost attention. The caution was almost flattering, considering that I didn’t feel very dangerous at the moment. I briefly considered flashing my fangs at him, but decided that it was probably better not to do anything that might make him act to “neutralize the threat”.

I looked for my coffee cup from earlier, but ultimately decided that it was better to not mix my two liquid vices anyway and grabbed a new mug and discovered that the blood bag had a resealable cap and convenient pour spout, allowing me to fill the mug with chilled blood. Having filled one cup, I sealed the bag and decided to place it in the refrigerator, since I wasn’t sure when I’d be given more. Then, I tried a sip from my cup and found that the crimson contents were decidedly worse when cold–I’ve since tried a bloody snow cone and discovered that that’s acceptable, but refrigerator-temp blood is just bad. This time, I made the mistake of heating it up in the microwave, which was… edible, but it really lost something compared to fresh blood. The best route, I discovered later, is to heat some water on the stove to about forty degrees and set the blood bag in the water to warm up.

Anyway, I finished the mug and felt better than after my morning caffeine fix. So, to conclude the night, I decided to take a bath and relax before bed.