Inside Job

My next shift started as any other would, my bags being searched and my body being patted down. The guard didn't even raise an eyebrow when he saw I was bringing in three water bottles in to work. He must be a big fan of hydration.

I go about setting up my cart and cleaning products while putting on a pair of rubber scrubs. I notice the scrubs now cling to my figure slightly more than they used to, now that I'm not longer just skin and bones. My cheeks still have a slightly sunken look to them, but it does not really make me look as famished as I once was. I hope they fill out a bit more as I grow stronger and consume more. But that will have to wait since the blood will be going to another source.

Clemen has been producing nicely as I open up the closet and see the tree trunk of a man's body. He has a good pool of blood around him that I quickly fill the bottles with. It is a bit more than three full bottles of the stuff I receive so I decide to sip a bit to test the quality.

Its nothing to write home about, if I had a home or someone to write to, but its definitely nutritional. Seems like feeding Clemen that bucket of filthy water did the trick in making sure the nutrients are somewhat present in his blood stream. I'm happy to know that his stomach and kidneys are still working without a head to direct them. The body truly is the most complicated puzzle in nature.

I hide the bottles of blood in my cart behind the cleaning products, making sure to wipe down the outside of the bottles with some bleach to properly hide the smell from passing vampires and guardsmen. I start washing the cells assigned to me as fast as I possibly can, with no issues going through security checkpoints as I look like any normal sanitation worker.

One of the very useful differences with the new quartermaster is his want to constantly fulfill the quotas for the shift with very little regard for much else. Which means as long as there has not been a massive slaughter the night before, I can finish my shift the moment the cells assigned to me are cleaned. Paired with the boost in strength and speed, I can easily finish my shift in six hours instead of eight. Which is precisely what I did.

Instead of going towards the waste management area that I would normally go off to, I turn my cart and head off towards the shipping bay. As a janitor, it isn't uncommon to be sent to this area to pick up the full garbage bags in the break rooms and in the hallways. It is under this pretext that I am let into the loading area and start to do the tour of the garbage cans very slowly.

I'm looking for someone who is clearly blood starved and would do anything to change it, basically another me. The thought crosses my mind that they might betray me and give the blood away to their supervisor as proof. I quickly dismiss it since I doubt anyone here would give up a chance to increase their measly salary and forced slavery in exchange for a simple task.

Like a loan shark, I circle around and look for particularly vulnerable people. A man that stumbles while picking up his boxes, a woman who seems like she is sleep walking from one pile to the next. There are so many of the near cadaver like creatures milling around that I almost feel like I am getting swarmed. I'm sure that any of them would be happy to accept my deal but I need to make sure they are the right one for my needs.

That's when I see one of the drivers get out of his cabin and walk around to a sickly looking ghoul with no hair. On sight, the ghoul gives a weak smile and joins his driver friend for some chatter. The supervisor seems unaware that both of the ghouls have stopped working while the two of them chat away, partially hidden by the unloaded boxes.

A good 5 minutes pass as I mill around picking up various detritus and keeping a constant eye on both the overseeing quartermaster and the two chatterboxes. Perhaps them talking so much will be a bad thing in the future. However, the good connection between driver and off-loader is quite a bonus to my cause, one that I cant overlook.

Finally, the driver moves away to another part of the warehouse area, most likely to go pick up his next delivery slip. Taking advantage of the ghoul being alone, I angle my cart towards the ghoul picking up a new box and struggling to bring it over to a growing pile. All the boxes have bio hazard signs on them, indicating presence of bodily fluids or meat. Seeing that the semi truck seems to have some sort of refrigeration, I would be confident to say the prior of the two possibilities.

I finally get to within ear shot of the ghoul, his features look decrepit. It's as if hes been alive for a thousand years seeing his tendons and meager muscles are visible across his entire body. This is extenuated by the fact that he is bald and has very little teeth left in his mouth. Whatever romantic thoughts someone could have when thinking about vampires, this guy would most likely extinguish in a single smile.

"Hey, can I ask you to help me for a moment, I have something that needs transporting." my tone is casual and I don't expect he will agree to anything without cause.

"I'm not paid to hand out freebies, if you want free shit, go to a charity." He looks at me quickly and then grumbles angrily, picking up a new box off of a forklift.

"They don't look like they pay you at all." I start to roll in the opposite direction of where he was headed, near a pile of boxes that no one seems to be near. "I'm sure I could offer you a fair price if you help me out with a small favour."

Hearing the offer of payment, which 90% of the time meant blood, the vampire puts down the box and starts to follow me at a discreet pace. Seems like he isn't dull in the cranium and wont pass up an opportunity for some money.

"What do you want and how much am I getting paid." He cuts right to the chase.

"I need a box of equipment delivered into the factory and then placed in a specific location so that I can retrieve it. Do you think you can manage that?" I oblige and state the objective quite clearly.

"I'm a dock worker, I don't drive things in. You're asking the wrong person and wasting my time." His mood darkens as if he thinks I've just asked him to do the impossible. It's a good bluff because unless I had seen him talking to the driver of the semi truck, I would have believed him.

"I saw you talking all buddy-buddy with that delivery man, just ask him to do the pick up and then you do the unloading part." I didn't think this would convince him so I reach into my cleaning supplies while looking around and pull out a bottle of blood. His eyes go wide as he sees the heavy crimson filling the entire container. "You can get one of these if you accept the job now, two more on completion."

"Is that real?" He seems pretty amazed to see someone offering so much for such a simple service. "I can do it, but I'll need to ask Gus if he's OK with it. Where do you want this box delivered and when?"

"This needs to be done by tomorrow morning." I proceed to give him the details of where his friend Gus the driver should meet me to pick up the crate of medical supplies as well as where I want the box deposited. Instead of giving him the apartment building address where I live, I give him a street corner that isn't too far from here. As for the medical supplies, I instruct him to leave it in a very specific storage location that is near the cells that are being used to slaughter today, keeping it far from my actual blood farm.

After all the information is transmitted, I toss him the bottled blood and see him slide it into his uniform. It isn't subtle as it forms a lump in his uniform, making it look like he was way too excited by this deal than he should be. Hopefully he just passes as some pervert and not someone who is helping others smuggle goods. The last thing I would need is my cover blown by some random.

Wheeling towards the hallway, I pick up the remaining garbage bags so that my presence here does not arouse suspicion. After thirty minutes of surveillance and bartering, I've managed to find a way to smuggle in my medical equipment. If all goes well, I might even use this technique to smuggle out boxes of blood.

***

It is around 6:30 am. There is a slight mist as the city cools by a few degrees, it makes the mostly abandoned roads look spooky. Tomorrow, Friday, is the day my rent is due. I need Gus the driver to show up to take this box so I can set up a much better rig and really farm Clemen for all the headaches he has given me over the years.

The streets are mostly empty, with a random ghoul or two making an appearance, sometimes homeless and asking for blood, sometimes drunk, often times both. For some reason alcohol was not metabolized as well as most toxins in our bodies. There must be a scientific explanation as to why that is but I really had no clue. I would bet on the fact that it was mostly psychological and not physiological.

At the end of the street, a pair of headlights veered the corner and made their way towards me. I picked up the box and waited for the driver to stop next to me.

"Gus?" I called out, wanting to confirm I was handing it off to the right individual.

"In the flesh, you can hand it over to me. When will we get the other bottle?" Gus unbuckled and reached out of the passenger side window to grab the box. As he made the last statement I stifled a smile. That cheap dock worker hadn't told his friend the right price for the job, this guy was only going to get paid half a bottle of blood. Reminds me why I was hesitant to trust other people for this. I handed him the box.

"You'll get the reward when your dock worker buddy delivers the box to the right storage closet, no sooner." He seemed content with this and started to make his way back to his car before hesitating and turning back.

"If you shaft us with this deal." Gus the delivery driver seemed a bit nervous about getting paid. "I'll make sure I get paid one way or another. Got it?"

He was not very good at intimidation. At best, it just sounded like a wet noodle of a threat coming from someone who had much more to lose that to gain. I just smiled back and stared at him, releasing some of the pent up anger that had been burning in my heart for years but I was too weak to utilize.

I wasn't blood starved. I was not weak. I was certainly not about to be bullied by a lowly trucker. My rage warped around me as the air chilled, condensation visible as I took a breath through my teeth.

Gus' breath also started to turn into white clouds, much like the colour of his skin was turning from red to a draining pink. The shadows the street lights cast started to coalesce around my feet, forming a darkness that seemed deeper the more you stared into it.

The wall I had my back to started to disappear from view as darkness crawled over the bricks, a shadow of a thousand tentacles and a voracious appetite.

Gus stumbled backwards, into the headlights of his parked truck. He tripped over an imaginary shoelace, landing flat on his ass, hands still firmly holding onto the box that he clutched in his meaty hands. Had he dropped it and broken the contents, there would be two new missing employees at the slaughterhouse.

The shadows stretched towards him, the first truck headlight flickering on and off as the tendrils searched for warmth and life. Then the lights turned off, leaving only the distant light of the street lamps. Night vision would not help him see clearer, there was no light left to take in.

A tendril wrapped around Gus' leg as he tried to scoot away,rooting him to the spot in which he lay. With a yelp, he was pulled about 5 feet towards me, his feet hitting the curb of the sidewalk I stood on. He must have thought he was going to die like this. Swallowed by darkness.

But just as it had started, the shadows receded and the light from the truck and the overhead street light returned. The shadows were no more, as if a kind of twisted manic episode had taken control of him for a few moments.

I leaned down.

"I always respect my deals, now go do your job." He quickly nodded and added an affirmation as he scrambled up from the ground, practically diving into his truck to drive away.

As the blinkers signaled the truck turning the corner and the street grew quiet once more, I knew that my path had once again been taken to a new level.

I was hungry.

This city was filled with blood.