The nauseating sensation of panic and suffocating hunger courses through your nerves as you race down a corridor. Herta Space Station, you note, may not be the greatest place to navigate while deprived of blood.

It’s been at least a week since your last feeding, and you’ve been drinking from transparent, palm sized bags of blood throughout your visit at the space station— the purpose of which being to find a cure your… special ailment. Tonight happens to be the lucky night you ran out of your supply.

Which, is the cause for another, much bigger problem. You vividly remember at least having one more bag left in your closet (the supply closet in your rented laboratory). So why is it gone? Only you have access to it. Which means…

Someone stole it.

Someone knows what you are.

You irrationally check the closet again, yanking open the metal door as you pant from the adrenaline. However, the unmistakable timber of a certain doctor’s voice makes you jump on the spot and whirl around.

“My…”

He’s holding the bag in one hand. Your last bag, and it’s like he’s dangling it in front of you. Taunting you to lunge at him with a dangerous, though rightfully wary curiosity in his eyes. Ratio’s keeping his distance, but he makes no effort to move as you make a stumbling step forward. He tuts, gauging the mix of fear and utter starvation in your expression.

“I will say, nothing… will ever be more satisfying than one’s suspicions being confirmed. Minimal effort involved.”

…