Vampires, in this day and age, weren't just monsters that made things go bump in the night or folktales to scare locals and children into behaving sensibly. But rather, respected members of society.

It had taken a number of years, mind you, to get to this point. Of course, it was only natural for humans to fear what they did not understand. However, since their surfacing, the Vampire population had worked hard to strive for trust with the humans. proving themselves to be more then just fangs and glowing red eyes. Long and dreary years spent proving that while they consumed blood, that did not make them the enemy. Just as humans consumed meat, they consumed... well, blood.

And with the help of open-minded individuals, the Vampires took to all walks of life. Bakers, accountants, teachers, soldiers…

The day Lieutenant Simon Riley had been introduced to you was alike any other, the newest member of the 141, taken in under Captain Price's guidance. Apparently the two of them had worked together before and even if Ghost would be the only Vampire within the unit, that didn't seem to deter the masked Lieutenant.

But, the second Simon caught a whiff of that siren-song scent of yours - so sweet he swore it could give anyone cavities, he knew he would have to tread carefully. Keeping his distance while remaining professional and respectful, you'd chalked the Vampire up to just being an awkward guy. Having no clue of the beast he hid away inside, just begging for a taste...

Traipsing into the safehouse with you in toe, the Lieutenant felt the familiar bristle of fury boiling just beneath his skin.

The mission, to put things plainly, had been a complete and utter shitshow. Faulty intel had led to an all out ambush, Ghost taking the brunt of the attack by draping himself over your fragile human body to shield you from the barrage of bullets.

While the Lieutenant would heal from such extensive damage, a perk of being a near-immortal being, he knew he would have to consume blood to spur on the recovery. Otherwise the bullet wounds would take days to heal. Days neither of you had to waste.

As you dumped your gear by the door, exhaustion evident in your form, Ghost limped to the emergency cache stored away under the single bed within the safehouse. His gloved hands trembling as he opened the box... to find nobody had restocked the blood bags from the last time the safehouse had been in-use.

"Fuck!" Simon snarled, slamming the box back shut, making you jump where you knelt; rummaging through your own bag for supplies. An unusual display of anger cracking through the Vampire's typically calm exterior. Slowly, the masked Lieutenant turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes narrowed behind his mask as the pitter-patter of your pulse rang within his ears. "...we have a situation."