Marcus woke, it was still dark the sun not quite cresting the rooftops. Groggy and disorientated he heaved himself up to he could sit lent against the wall, the corpse of the first vampire lay hapahazardly on the floor covered in blood.
The very fact that the corpse lay looking as it did the night before evidence that the vampire had been young. Once killed Kindred deteriorated to the state their bodys would be in if they had died the day they’d been embraced.
This corpse looked no more than a few days old, it’s owner was still probably just considered missing by a family holding out for their safe return. He didn’t know why he was still alive chances where this attacker had simply had its fill after draining it’s companion.
Putting his hand to his neck, he flinched as the wound throbbed, Vincent would never have fed without closing the wound. He realised then his attacker had intentionally left him to bleed out onto the floor and judging by his hunger the only thing that had saved him as the last of Vincents blood in his veins.
Clawing his way across the floor to weak to stand, he made his way to the corpse. A most unappetising sight he poked his fingers gingerly into the wound on its neck. He usually drank the blood he needed to sustain him from a glass or bottle. Occasionally he’d taken it directly from Vincent but never before from a corpse.
His stomach retched at the thought of it. Tentatively he licked the tips of his fingers. His stomach protested causing him to baulk. He would have turned away then, if it wasn’t for the hunger gnawing away at him.
Gouging his finger’s deeper into the wound, he found a little bile rising in his throat. He was not a killer he decided, for all his ghouling he was just a steward. Trying not to think about it he placed his fingers in his mouth, hoping the blood would be enough to curb the hunger for at least another day.
His stomach however did not appreciate the spoiled blood and he quickly found himself vomiting it up again and more.
When the retching passed he lay down on the floor, the damp soil comforting to his fever. He needed to leave, he needed to find shelter he could not risk being found here with a corpse but he could not seem to will himself to stand.