You're scared.
You're going to do something you've never done before, and it's quite frankly, terrifying.
You know what you're about to do, of course. Being in the Ring meant the exact opposite of keeping your hands clean, but you could always hang in the background and let your fellow students take part in all the violence.
But tonight? You're going to procure the blood directly. You're going to go on a hunt. You thrum in nervousness, and your body feels like it isn't real as you stalk through the streets. But you have to do this to survive. You need to.
You know where the Rats are. They've always been an easy catch for your fellow students, so scouting out their hiding spots will be easy.
With that in mind, you continue on your grim path.
Max was a Rat.
In other words, he was the lowest of the low. The absolute pond scum at the bottom of the City's pecking order. But he had a dream, and it was a dream that he was going to see through to the end. One day, he and his buddies were going to open a Syndicate, and then nobody would fuck with them anymore.
One day..
But for today, he contented himself with counting his spoils, recounting his escapades with his friends. They were happily talking away into the night, chatting about what happened today. Their escapades of organ harvesting and robberies floating away into the night sky.
That was when they saw a peculiar figure. Tall and lean and covered in all obscuring black clothing. Quietly, they stood to their feet and drew their knives. "Hey! Who the fuck are you?" Max called out. The figure does not respond, instead, they merely clamber towards him in some sort of slow, shuffling gait. "I'm warning you! Don't come any closer!" He yelled out again, adrenaline flooding through his veins.
The figure stopped.
Max takes a moment to congratulate himself. Did he manage to scare them in their tracks?
..The figure turned to one of his friends nearby, watching them closely like a hawk.
For a moment, for a second that lasted an eternity, there was no movement. And then the figure lunged towards his friend. They were quick, so fast that he couldn't even make out their movements. And then they clung towards his friend's back like a leech. Grabbing them in an all encompassing embrace. They threw their head back, and the hood fell off. Revealing a man with red eyes and black hair. Half of his face was entirely pitch black, red veins running on them.
He opened his mouth, revealing a mouth full of sharp veins, and then bit down. His friend's screams of agony turned into hideous gurgles as the man swiftly fed on his blood. Overcome with rage and fear, his other compatriots shook off the shock that had overtaken their bodies and swiftly charged at the man.
The man stopped, and stared towards their direction, eyes sweeping around like a feral animal. And for a moment, those horrible, horrible eyes fell on him. Those red orbs that seemed to know only thirst.
And then his world erupted into blood, teeth, and pain. And he dropped to his knees as the screams of his friends rang out around him.
You awake to the smell of blood.
It's everywhere, in your mouth? Certainly. Over the walls? They were there too. The alley looked like a massacre had taken place, or like someone had dumped several buckets of red paint all over it. Bits of gore stained the walls, and you realize in horror that you're arm deep and knee deep within the delicious revolting fluids.
You stare at the gruesome scene in numb horror, at the dead bodies of the Rats scattered around you. Did you do this? Did you slaughter all of them..? You don't remember anything..
And then, something peculiar began to happen. The bodies of the dead Rats rose to their feet, moaning weakly. Odd red crystalline growths begin sprouting from their bodies, and you back away in horror as the reanimated bodies begin shambling towards you.
And then you realize that you felt.. a certain sensation from them. A sensation of docility. Like you could command them, and they'd listen. "..Stop." You say, your voice is shaky and weak. They stop immediately. You try again. "..Hold out your hand." In an eerily synchronized motion, they do so.
..So you command them, somehow. Something to keep note of.
And then you saw it.
Amidst all the blood, a single survivor is still alive, curled into a fetal position as they mutter frantically under their breath. "Please don't kill me.. I'll do anything.. I'll do anything.. please don't.. please don't kill me.." You look closer, and they whimper. Upon inspection, it's a young man with hair colored a filthy brown, his torn clothing marking him as a Rat.
It looks like you somehow managed to spare him even in your blood induced rage.
What will you do now?
The Blood Bags..
[X] Command them to come with you.
[X] Command them to hide.
[X] Write-in
The Survivor..
[X] Spare him.
[X] Kill him. Regretfully.
[X] Spare him and bring him with you.
