the mirror. There was a stain on his shirt. People in control didn’t wear dirty clothes. He changed shirts, combed his hair. Smiled at the reflection politely, and the reflection smiled back.
Less teeth next time. A man in control didn’t bare his teeth like that. He smiled with his lips.
He imagined himself buttoning the buttons of his control suit, took a deep breath, and got out of the bedroom. The guest room’s door was shut. He hesitated, almost knocked, then decided to go to the kitchen instead.
He made himself a cup of coffee—coffee was his new friend, now that he’d left sleep behind. Maybe he should make himself a sandwich. He opened the fridge and scanned the shelves for the cream cheese he’d bought last Friday.
The five vials, full of crimson blood, immediately caught his eye. He’d managed to collect them from her before Daniel took her. His mouth watered, just seeing the vials. He remembered the metallic salty taste, so invigorating, so different from animal blood, so full of life. Couldn’t he afford to drink just one? Not even the entire vial. Just a small sip to feel better.
Control. Those vials weren’t for him.
He found the cream cheese and shut the fridge. A good sandwich and some more coffee could make him feel just fine. It wasn’t like he even needed the blood. He was much better now.
It had been different just three days ago. He was sick as a dog back then. Headaches, sore throat, nausea, rapid heartbeats. The doctor said he was fine, but Google had told him different. Sepsis or a heart disease, he was almost certain. Not that the doctors cared. Like Daniel said, in this country, if you didn’t have a million-dollar health insurance plan, no one gave a shit about you.
It was fine. He’d found out the truth long before. They didn’t want anyone to know, of course. But it made total sense when you thought about it. Just a bit of blood from someone else could help almost any malady. It was a way to enrich your own white blood cells, bolster the immunity system. And if the blood was pure, really pure, it was even better.
If only it could have been someone else. But like Daniel had said, you wanted the purest blood possible, right?
Besides, it wasn’t just himself he had to worry about.
And it had worked. Ever since that night he’d been feeling fine. Better than fine, really. He was Healthy with a capital H. He had to sleep a bit less, the dreams became worse, but that was to be expected. And it wasn’t like he had a choice.
He realized he was standing by the open fridge, one of the small vials already in his hand. Funny, he was so lost in thought he’d done it without thinking. He uncorked it, just to smell the contents. Nothing more.
It smelled like Life.
He tipped it gently between his lips. It tasted different cold. Not necessarily worse, but different. And it was fine; he still had four more.
He washed the vial and then went over to the guest room’s door, knocking on it.
“Yeah?” Daniel’s voice was distracted.
He opened the door. The room was dark, the blinds pulled down. Daniel sat by the desk, the laptop in front of him. The monitor’s white ethereal light reflected on Daniel’s face, making his sunken features and pale skin look even sicklier than usual.
“I wondered if you wanted anything to eat or drink.”
“Nah, thanks, man.” Daniel glanced at him and smiled, tired. “You’re looking much better.”
“I’m feeling better.”
“The treatment did the trick, huh?”
That was what Daniel always called it. The treatment. He was the one person who understood.
He licked his lips. “Yeah, it definitely did the trick. Are you sure you don’t want—”
“Thanks, there’s no need,” Daniel said. “You know I can’t.”
“You’ll feel so much better if you try.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen.”
“Okay,” the man in control said after a short silence. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“How are you feeling about what we did?” Daniel asked. “Better?”
He swallowed. “We did what we had to, right?”
“It’s not our fault,” Daniel said. “It’s those damn insurance companies, right? If they’d just fund proper health care for people like us.”
“Right, right.”
“You sure you’re all right? Because yesterday you were crying, and you said we should turn ourselves in. You freaked me out, man.”
“It was just a momentary loss of control. I’m fine now.”