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Grace could feel her saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth.
It was disgusting, gasping for air like a lonely dog in need of attention, but her mind was not hers now. The thirst she’d been experiencing for the past few hours since being kidnapped from Wrenwood had amplified tenfold, her throat scratching against itself as she swallowed to soothe the dryness, though it did nothing.
The pristinely white room was tilting in all sorts of directions, disorienting her center of gravity. Elpis—the T-virus—something was changing her. She was unclear as to what stage it had developed into, though clearly she wasn’t any better than a few hours ago. After entering ARK, meeting Leon, and finding a way to get out of the dumpster, her condition worsened beyond her usual symptoms.
“Grace?” His voice was distant, echoing with concern. She felt his large hands grasp her slim arm, hoisting her up by her waist with his strength alone.
“Grace, talk to me.” He led her to a nearby desk, allowing her to lean on it to regain her bearings, but the dizziness was profoundly disarming; she could potentially puke.
The thirst was easy to ignore then, the itchiness and the ringing in her ears rolling in waves, but now it’s uncontrollable. She was losing control over an invisible force morphing her body.
Leon could see the change, too. They weren’t very drastic, but they stood out like a sore thumb; her eyes were no longer the familiar pale green, now a sinister crimson. Her skin was sapped of its warmth, replaced by a haunting white, with purple veins protruding across her forearms.
“…The last stage,” he breathed.
Her humanity was slipping. He’s seen that same look she gave him the moment his voice reached her in all the other infected he’s put down. He was not just a man to her now, but rather a meal she was waiting for permission to ravish.
“Leon…” Grace rasped, her ears popping as her hearing cleared. With Leon right behind her, she started noticing things about him that she barely had before fhe moment she turned around. The faraway scent of dust on his hair, the rot on the right of his neck, the sweat trickling down his forehead, even the way his shirt hugged his physique, accenting the strength kept hidden behind it.
“You have to go—argh!” Her jaw started to surge with pain as two of her teeth on the top row pushed out, revealing two sharp fangs that pricked her tongue. “I smell…I smell your blood.”
And holy hell, does she want to drink it badly.
“Gideon did mention something like that,” Leon sighed, noticing her new fangs as he concealed his handgun. Looking around the lab, hoping to find something that could ease Grace’s pain, he kept a close distance from her, ready to either restrain her or help her. “The infected pretty much turn into vampires. They can’t walk under light, have superhuman strength, fast recovery.”
An idea began forming in his mind.
He stripped off the gear on his chest, letting it clatter onto the desk while he unfastened his collar. Grace watched, confused.
“What—what are you—"
“Making sure you don’t go insane thirsty.” He revealed the left side of his neck, the one still clean of the T-virus, nodding.
“You aren’t—you aren’t serious!” She squirmed, turning away from him, not wanting to think any more about how good his blood might taste, despite the virus rotting him amidst it all. Her thoughts were horrid. “You don’t know what—what you’re asking of me!”
“And it’ll somehow be nicer letting you kill me for this?” His voice remained at the same grumble he always spoke in. He tilted his head. “You won’t last another hour unless you drink.”
“You’re saying—this from experience?” She shook her head, trying to clear the haze.
“No. Just an observation.” Leon straightened his posture. “Come on.”
“I’ll… I’ll kill you.” She gasped, terrified of the idea. I don’t want to hurt you.
“Not unless I stop you first.”
Grace wished she had the will to deny, but she was already far gone. Without another word, he grabbed her arm and gently pulled her towards him, no longer allowing her any option to run from him.
And as soon as she got a whiff of Leon’s skin, just a sample of it stumbling into his personal space, her body acted on its own. Spurred on by a surge of longing.
The moment she took a bit of his neck into her mouth, her mind cleared instantly. The voices stopped; the dryness in her throat numbed. Her hands push against his shoulders, but he does not budge, holding her in place as she sinks her fangs beneath his skin. Pain seeped into his shoulder, stumbling back against the desk before holding her by her back.
It was all creepily natural, the motions.
To her, it was as though an invisible computer had injected into her a set of commands that she could execute without delay, telling her what to feel and how to feed. Ambrosia spilled into her mouth as each drag sucked up the life from him. A soft groan escaped him as she unknowingly started to press her weight over him.
His blood tasted refreshing, while also tasting horrible on her tongue. It wasn’t the best thing she’d ever tasted, but it was good enough that every sigh that escaped her felt like releasing tension in her bones. It didn’t taste like iron; rather, it was savory, smooth, and slightly bitter. Likely due to his infection. It was very in character for him. Sharp around the edges but easy on the palate.
Each of Grace’s senses roared with life, the muscles in her limbs rejuvenating faster than she expected. Her hearing caught Leon as he took deep breaths beside her left ear, fanning her hair; the skin on her palms felt for the nylon of his shirt, clawing his shoulders until her knuckles whitened. Her sight—hell, her tongue—all became acutely precise, just by drinking him in.
Every drag of blood went down her throat like wine, and it felt sinfully good, allowing the bliss to regain her strength little by little. Dazed with something that wasn’t exhaustion, her grip on Leon’s shirt loosened, resting them on his shoulder.
Now, she no longer felt parched or delirious with thirst but rather tipsy. She felt like she had too much, yet it still wasn’t enough all at once. She could be convinced that she could suck him dry and live without the guilt, though as soon as that thought entered her mind, she quickly withdrew her mouth away from him, gasping for air. She’d unknowingly closed her eyes, so she hadn’t noticed that Leon had been shoved against a desk, sitting down atop it to allow her easier access to his neck.
“Sorry—I… I didn’t mean to—” She pulled away immediately, putting distance between her and Leon as she wiped her lips of the blood. He only raised his hand in reassurance, subtly panting for breath.
“See? I’m okay.” He managed a smirk, palming the wound with his gloved hand. “Didn’t…hurt one bit.”
“It—it didn’t?” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, unconsciously savoring the taste despite herself.
“It stung.” Rolling his shoulder slowly, he pressed a cloth he picked from the lab and held it against the two indents. “But I feel right as rain.”
Heaving a deep, long sigh, Grace shook her head to break off the heady trance, pulling herself back to the present. “Here, let me.”
A medical kit rested on the table just to Leon’s right. Picking it up, she opened up a fresh patch of plasters and cleaned the two wounds on his neck, disinfecting them before covering them up.
“How do you feel?” Leon asked, letting Grace do her work.
“Better, I think.” Closing the kit, she held him up by his back, closely watching how he was reacting. To her relief, he didn’t seem all that different, besides being exhausted from the blood loss. “I feel...lighter than before.”
“I’ll take that as a good sign.” He chuckled, picking up his gear off the desk. “Let’s go. We need to find a way to get that door unlocked.”
“I think…I have a way.”
Grace stepped towards the door that was emitting a red light. ARK had improved its technology significantly over the years, keeping up with the latest improvements even after the missile strike, but it didn’t cost her much to rely on brute force. Carrying a newfound confidence, she placed her hands on the handle and pulled to the left, grunting with effort. The door creaked, just slowly allowing a gap to form. With one full tug, she successfully pulled it all the way, opening it against its code and breaking the internal wires inside it.
“That worked.” She was a bit surprised by her own strength. She never would have been able to do that if she weren't infected. “Thanks to your blood…”
“I should let you drink more next time.” Leon smirked with amazement, following her out. “Seems to do you more good than me.” She seemed less infected now, for now. Thankfully, feeding on him allowed her to retain her sense of self.
“Please don’t joke about that." She pleaded.
Into the hallway, he was leading them both through the labs, but she was awfully quiet. The world around her looked different from before the blood; clearer, sharper. She was far more attuned to her body, as though each limb was primed to its maximum capacity, able to throw however much power she needed to kill someone if she so wanted.
"Leon…I'm turning." She sighed, slowing to a stop. "I feel…fine, but different. Like my skin and bones aren't mine anymore."
He turned around, his eyes on her timid figure without fear. Though much of that same timidness he saw in her back at Rhodes Hill had eroded.
"I might actually—"
"But you haven't."
Grace looked up.
"You still have time. If you really had turned, you wouldn't have stopped."
Leon gave her a smile. "Just let me know in advance, if you need to drink again, okay?"
She merely huffed, returning his quip with a slight smirk. "Fine."