Damn it. August clambered through his mansion, granted to him by the royal family for his actions in the War of Lithingham. He served as a general. The war was against vampires, many soldiers were bit and turned, but the humans won. After war, he had gone out to a small village nearby, getting bit by a child. Embarrassing. He could feel the sickness in his veins, spreading. He knew he needed to leave the mansion.

“Goddamn it.” he grimaced, letting out a grunt as he spit out a canine tooth.