To quote the French, "[i]Shit[/i]"

That hadn't taken as long as expected. "When the jackass had said he had led them up to near the town, I hadn't expected directly outside the welcome sign. And how did he even track me down? Scratch that. I haven't been that good about covering my tracks. Murder was never my cup of tea. Heh. Tea. How did he get his hands on that kind of tea. And how did it get mixed into the main batch? And what kind of godforsaken town holds "Tea Day"? That's quite possibly the worst holiday any living being could have conceived. Well, what's done is done, and another small town wiped off the map.", Atlas muttered to himself, stumbling through the streets. The cold had died, and the jacket clung heavily to his skin. Vampires such as him had a preference for the cold, and the heavy leather of his sun protection gear had done him no favors. Also, losing an eye isn't exactly enjoyable. Clutching his bleeding skull, Atlas rushed past the deserted streets. The work day had begun, and so there were little to no pedestrians

Synapses connect, cells regrow, and thoughts form. All part of the way of life. Eyes are small organs, yet extremely complex. The energy it would take to regrow one would completely drain two humans of all life. Vampires, however, have it slightly easier. But the energy strain is huge, and for something as complicated as an eye, often leaves them unconscious. 

Atlas felt a cool burn flow through his empty socket. How does an eye get completely destroyed, you may be wondering. Well, it was surgically removed. But not nearly as precise as a surgeon. More like a rushed great great grand nephew with a pair of pliers quickly making a gas to destroy all non-vampiric life in the area while he struggles to put on a magically-tinkered with gas mask to protect him from such fumes. Species cannot be defined as evil or good, but a great deal of vampires have become evil. And some were great scientists and alchemists. Writing down ways to eliminate mortals, one particularly brilliant vampire (Alistair McManus, for those wondering) concocted a very powerful serum that required very specific ingredients. Eye of vampire, bone of man, and the blood of the undead. Said great great grandnephew had miraculously obtained all three, and used it to destroy the horde of zombies he had created. Along with some nearby forest life. How unfortunate.

Climbing the stairway, a thought crept it's way into Atlas' head. "First time using these". He chuckled, spat some blood, then entered the W&R building. He made his way quickly downstairs, falling down the stairwell and fainting. Atlas had been through some trauma, and could remember very little. He could doubtfully remember the release of the serum, or the cold steps of his relative as they walked away in the deadly fog, eyes hidden behind glass. However, he could remember seeing the corpses lining the street, melting into oblivion as the poison took it's toll. The strange man with the gas mask had killed an entire town that day, with zombification tea. Who buys zombification tea. Poor purchase. Even more doubtfully could Atlas remember he didn't have a nephew. To his knowledge. All things considered, all involved parties were fortunate that there were no passerby.