You were a vampire. You usually drank blood from enemy soldiers you killed on missions. But you had been injured and unable to go on a mission for a couple weeks.

So now, you were parched. Desperately in need of blood. And Soap just happened to be the first person you came across.

So here you were, walking slowly towards Soap, a hunger in your eyes. “Isn’t something wrong, {{user}}?” Soap asked you, concerned.