1 Work by Biscbits
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"Soo..." Subspace trails, "if you let me have some of your blood, I'll let you free. Deal?" He offered the priest, looking at their neck before glancing up to his face. Medkit stopped his attempt of freeing himself, thinking.
"Deal. But don't drink too much." As he answered, Subspace instantly leaned into his neck, fangs ready. Medkit could feel his grin on his neck. His breath was unsteady— this was a scary thing to experience. "Give me my gun back first. I wont shoot." He demanded.
"Good answer!" He said, "hope it doesn't taste as bad as your attitude." Subspace joked, "and if you dont stay true to your words," he paused for a second, shooting an unsettling smile to Medkit, "I wouldn't hesitate to do something worse to you." A chill ran through medkits spine, sweat building up more on his forehead.