The bloodlust has been getting to you. Really, really getting to you.

You don't remember the last time you'd had a taste. It was bothering you enough for the others to notice — the staff were eyeing you weirdly, your coworkers avoided you.

You try to distract yourself with anything: working out, smoking, gnawing at your own fingers.

Konig, on the other hand, grows increasingly more suspicious by the day, and late one night while you're out for a smoke, you hear footsteps approach you.