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Grace always hated being different. One thing he really hated was his fangs and the fact he couldn’t live off of normal human food. Instead, he drank blood, because that is obviously the most non creepy and dangerous thing a person could do. Not that he really was a human by most people’s standards.
Now, he was on Stratts Vat, stuck with no access to blood. Well, technically there was access, but it was unethical to steal the blood donations that many have given in case there is an emergency with one of the members of the crew. Did Grace particularly care though? Well yes of course he did, but then again, he didn’t exactly want to starve either.
He did wonder how long he could go without blood for a while, and decided to test that theory. The answer was a month before. He figured that out when someone in the same room as him had gotten a bloody nose. He had immediately felt his instincts nearly take over, and had to leave the room quickly in order to avoid making a scene.
The main issue wasn’t the blood drinking, even if that was a bit of a problem. The main issue was the hunger. He was starving. Everyday he woke up to horrible pain in his stomach that made him feel nauseous. He had gagged multiple times over a toilet, nothing coming out due to his stomach always being empty.
He always limited the amount of blood he took from the donations. Well, limited was a stretch. He practically forced himself to only drink about half a bag, which was barely anything to satiate the hunger.
It was torture for him. He could hear the beating hearts of others, the blood pumping through their bodies. He could hear the blood rush to someone else’s face whenever they blushed. It was agonizing.
There were multiple times where he got hungry enough to end up biting himself and drinking his own blood. He knew better obviously, but he couldn’t help it. As a result, he ended up being dizzy every time. It never actually satiated his hunger really, but the feeling of eating something helped him stay sane for a bit longer.
People noticed though, which wasn’t good. They noticed his pale skin, his eye bags, the small bandages on his arms, how shaky he always was, and even sometimes how he dressed warm despite being in a room filled with people. Even still, he was energetic most of the time.
That energy quickly faded though, now leaving him barely staying afloat. This month, the hunger pangs had grown worse. It had slowly gotten worse over the year he’d already been there, and was continuing to get worse the longer he stayed.
It has finally gotten to a point that he nearly passed out in a meeting due to the pain. Stratt had proceeded to watch him for the rest of the month, always writing notes down whenever Grace did something slightly off.
He tried to act normal, he really did, but god he was failing. He knew he had to eat, but how could he? It would be extremely suspicious if the supply of blood suddenly started dwindling every time he got hungry. He couldn’t risk being found out. So, he chose to starve instead.
Now, he sat at his desk, trying his best to stay awake. He was cold. And tired. More than usual. Faintly, he wondered how much time had passed since he properly ate.
A knock on the door startled him awake, and he turned to see Stratt standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised at him. He gulped. “Uh. What is it?” He asked, clearing his throat.
“Come. I am taking you to medical. You look sick. You’ve also been acting sick.” Grace froze.
‘UUUUHHHHHHHHHH. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DOOOOOO?’ Grace’s mind screeched.
‘Oh god has she figured it out? Does she know? Oh god oh god oh god. I’m so doomed. My world is endi-‘
“Dr. Grace. I asked you to come to medical, not hyperventilate.” Grace snapped out of his thoughts, looking up before flushing in embarrassment. He stood, trying to fight off the dizziness.
He of course, failed.
Now, he was leaned against Stratt, his face pressed into her neck. Graces eyes snapped open. He could smell the blood. Oh god he was going to lose control. He had to get away. And fast.
With a sudden burst of energy, he pushed Stratt away from him and bolted down the hallway to his room. The moment he got inside, he slammed the door behind him.
He immediately curled up on himself in the middle of the room, groaning in pain. He sunk to the floor, his eyes starting to burn. The pain was unfathomable. The smell of blood that close had caused the hunger to burst.
Then, he stiffened. Someone was behind him. A hand sat down on his shoulder and he tensed, looking up to see Stratt standing over him. She looked… concerned? That was unusual. He opted to not focus on that and instead turned to see that the door was still closed. He must have left it unlocked. Again.
“Grace. Are you alright?” His attention was pulled back to Stratt. He sat there, quiet. Slowly, he shook his head. Stratt sighed.
“Why?” Grace looked up, surprised at the question. He was expecting her to just leave instead and tell him to feel better soon. “W-what?” He muttered. “Why do you feel bad?” Stratt asked again.
He sat there for a few seconds, wondering if he should say. If he told her, he could be kicked off the boat, or even killed. He didn’t want to die.
“Whatever it is that you are going to tell me, it will not replace you. You are needed. And it would be a hustle to replace you.” Stratt said.
Grace’s train of thought stopped immediately. Then, the words spilled out.
“I’m starving, Stratt. It hurts. Everyday is horrible. I can barely think. It’s torture.” He barely realized that Stratt was now sitting next to him, watching him. His rant turned into pained sobs. He felt himself be pulled into a hug, and a fresh wave of tears came.
After a bit, he had managed to calm down. “You said you were hungry. Have you not eaten anything?” Stratt asked, a hint of confusion slipping into her voice.
“I can’t! I can’t eat!” Grace cried, looking up at Stratt. “Well why not? We have plenty of food on the ship. Surely some of it is fitting to your preference.” Stratt said.
“You don’t get it. The amount of food for me on this boat would last me a lifetime, but I can’t eat it.” He said, looking away shamefully. “And why can’t you eat it?”
“…” Silence.
“Because what I eat isn’t normal food.”
He felt Stratt stiffen.
“I’m a vampire. I don’t eat human food. I can’t. It doesn’t give me nutrients and it tastes like crap.” He said quietly.
Stratt didn’t respond for a bit. He refused to look up. He didn’t want to see the disgust or disappointment. He didn’t need it.
“How much?” Grace opened his eyes. “What?” “How much blood do you need?”
He slowly looked up, only to see Stratt looking at him as if he were any other human. It took him a second before answering. “I can live with a bit every two or three days.” He mumbled. Stratt stared.
“Very well. How long has it been since you last ate?” Now it was his turn to tense up. “I think a little over a month.”
Stratt stared at him. “And how much did you eat?” She asked skeptically. “About half a pint…”
“So you are saying you have been surviving for a month with only eight fluid ounces of blood?” Grace sat there, looking down at his lap in shame.
“How long have you been doing this?” Her tone was concerned. “For as long as I’ve been here.” He heard Stratt sigh. “God help me.” She muttered.
“How are you even alive?” Grace’s gaze turned back to her. She looked stressed, and quite frankly, very worried. He had never seen this much emotion on her before. It was strange to see. The world’s most powerful woman, a stone wall, ruling over the governments of all nations with an iron fist, stressed about some random middle school science teacher she kidnapped.
“Eat.” She held out her arm, exposing her skin to him. “Wait what? You’re just going to let me suck your blood?” He asked, dumbfounded. “Yes. Now eat before I force you.” Stratt threatened.
Slowly, Grace grabbed ahold of her arm, looking for the best place to bite, before sinking his fangs in, the skin breaking. He could feel Stratt jolt a bit from the pain, but he ignored it.
Then, the most wonderful feeling came. Warm blood. God he was in heaven. He drank and drank, feeling the pain slowly ebb away with every gulp. Eventually, he felt a tap on his head and immediately pulled out, holding back on licking the excess blood from the wound.
He finally felt full for the first time in god knows how long. He looked down at Stratt’s arm, watching the skin weave back together. He shifted his gaze to see Stratt staring at her arm in pure shock. Grace snorted.
“I was not expecting that.” She said simply, bringing her arm up to her face to observe it. No scarring at all. It was as if the wound wasn’t ever there. Fascinating.
She looked down at Grace, watching him slowly melt into the ground in a puddle of relief. She allowed herself to smile a bit.
“Very well. You will feed once every week. And you will have the amount you need. Email me the rest of the details on your condition and I will make the proper accommodations. I have another meeting to attend. Goodnight Dr. Grace.” Stratt said, swiftly standing and picking up her tablet before heading to the door.
“Eva.” She stopped and turned to see Grace sitting up again, smiling softly. “Thank you.” They stared at each other for a bit. “You’re welcome, Ryland. Now rest. I don’t want to see you doing work until tomorrow.” She said before leaving the room. Grace smiled. Maybe being different wasn’t so horrible.