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[color=gray]Time[/color] || [color=#CD5C5C]Morning's Glory[/color]	[center][color=gray]Location[/color] || [color=#CD5C5C]Emergency Room[/color][/center][right][color=gray]Interaction[/color] || [color=#CD5C5C]Not so Warm Bodies[/color][/right]
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[indent][color=gray]	Desmond’s days were all starting to blur together, who knew that trying to live a life of being human would be so boring. There were only so many days he could paint the same thing over and over with no inspo. I mean how did Bob Ross do it for so long? This was no little happy accident it was just the opposite really. Everyday started the same in his little studio apartment lost somewhere within the depths of poverty around the slums of the Bronx. It was actually the only borough that was almost as bad as Staten Island, almost. While he was better suited to the hipster lifestyle that was apparent in Brooklyn, the Bronx allowed him to disappear with no one desperate enough to look for him. It did help that if he were to ever turn back into a rampaging killing machine that crimes were all around him and no one would notice if a few homeless men and gang bangers disappeared off abandoned alley ways. 

Every morning started the same, he rose from his old school coffin just as he did the several centuries ago when he first got turned. Oh, how he did miss the American revolution and what was originally the United States of America and not this generation of soft thin skin and corporations having inalienable rights just as people do. What a crock of shit. Anyways, a short shower and cup of coffee was all he needed to get him out the door and to the Emergency room. The dead hours of night had always been his favorite especially his little habit of window shopping on which blood bags he would be willing to drain. I guess it was kind of endearing that Desmond read over all the charts of the patients whose blood he was drinking, you know just to get to know them better. The milk was as cold and lifeless as he had been all these years, really just a shell of a man he once was. 

This day had started and was on track to end like any other, a few trauma patients here a few nurses and doctors getting it on in the on-call room there, anything that made a bump in the night happened here. With the world spinning on and time tugging on Desmond’s vacant soul, the feeling of the sun rising was kissing at the nape of his neck. That was until he got a ring from his pager and a woman’s voice came on overhead, [color=#CD5C5C][i]”External Triage, Rapid Response Team, Code Blue, Code Red.”[/i][/color] The slew of codes read in a monotone voice had really sparked his interest. This kind of disaster was saved for massacres or accidents on the massive scale…or your favorite supernatural vampires. He had seen his share of vampire attacks, but they were discrete, minimal, and most often if not always just a bite. Knowing he was risking being exposed to the first rays of sunlight and the fresh wet kiss of dew, Desmond’s curiosity outweighed his mortality, man being a turned vampire sucked. 

It all happened at once, a small concentrated case of hysteria and disbelief. There were pieces or rather chunks of meat and skin spread out across multiple stretchers that were…charred? Whoever they were, they died almost instantly but didn’t turn to ash like a feral or turned would. Whatever did this to them was definitely not of the vampire variety. [color=#CD5C5C][i]”Hunters? No..no…it can’t be. Nothing as brutal as this, unles—”[/i][/color] a thought kept in his mind while he assessed the bloody mess in front of him. The bodies were turning gray in complexion with the veins growing in size as if the blood inside their bodies were working overtime, it wasn’t human. With the sun hanging high in the sky, Desmond’s own skin began to feel the burn, he had to move. [color=#CD5C5C]“HEY YO OVER HERE, THAT’S RIGHT EVERYONE ALL EYES ON ME”[/color] he shouted as he commanded the attention of the room. 


[color=#CD5C5C]“Thanks for coming to my TedTalk but all of you can all go back to working this shitty overnight shift and act like none of this happened, just another code blue in the books. Good job people.”[/color] His eyes clouded with black ink almost instantly in order to compel the sacks of flesh into forgetting. With their memories being reprogrammed Desmond rushed the stretchers down long hallway after long hallway until he got to his little palace in the basement devoid of any human contact. Closing the door latch behind him he shuffled through his pockets as he flipped through his contacts looking for Trixie. Hoping onto the bed and stretching his arms to the ceiling a bar of service raised on his screen sending the message. 

[color=#CD5C5C]“Hey Trix, long time no see. Anyways how was that island meeting? I wonder if that Dimitri guy cut his kids off yet, haha who am I kidding like that would happen. Sorry for not being there, but I think I have something you’ll want to see. Same place as always, I’ll be waiting." 
									[right]-D. Grey[/right][/color]
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