Nick Cutler (history_maker) wrote in expresslogs, @ 2012-05-07 16:10:00 |
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He had been on this damn train for almost four days now. The first day had been alright. Aside from the whole Hal and Mitchell business, and coming to terms with being trapped on a sadistic train, of course. But he'd had the blood that had come with him then. It was lucky Cutler had been holding those glasses when the train took him, though. From what he understood of it now, everyone only arrived with whatever was on their person at the time. If he hadn't been holding those glasses, well, he'd be even more strung out right now, wouldn't he? He had managed to pass through the second day with little trouble as well. Simply coming to terms with his new surroundings had kept both his mind and body occupied. There was a fair bit of train to explore, he found, and more than enough to learn about it. Saturday had been much more difficult. There was still some exploring to do, but his conversations with other passengers were invariably cut short by him. Their heartbeats were all he could hear in the end, and that only served to make him more aware of the warm blood flowing through them. Oh how he wanted it! No, needed it. By the end of Saturday, Cutler had confined himself to his cabin. The night brought sweats and starts, and what had started as tremors earlier on Saturday, were full-blown shakes by Sunday. Most of his Sunday had therefore been spent locked in one of the extra bathrooms in the car his room was in. He did feel ill, so that fit. But it served mostly to keep him away from everyone and their warm blood and beating hearts. He certainly didn't want to be near James if he happened to be spending some time in their room. Cutler was fairly certain that draining another passenger - especially an ill one - would be a sure fire way for him to get a stake through the chest. He hadn't been able to sleep, day or night, for all the fits and starts, and Cutler knew that soon he wouldn't be able to control his actions. He had relinquished all control to his urges long ago. There was no point trying to fight them or it, he knew how this ended. So in a slightly more controlled moment in the early hours of Monday morning, Cutler headed to the one place he hoped could safely help him: the infirmary. It was early enough that most of the passengers were still in bed. This was obviously to his advantage. No one would witness his slightly mad dash to the infirmary, nor tempt him with their delicious blood. He may have stumbled a time or three on his way there, but he was there now and that was all that mattered. He only had one thing on his mind. Well, two. There was the immediate fix: blood. And the longer term solution: catheter needles and tubing. He figured the blood would have to be refrigerated, so finding that might not be too difficult. So he actually started by looking for the catheter-related equipment. After all, if he found the blood he'd probably forget about the rest and have to come back and raid the place all over again. After glancing around the shelves and seeing nothing he needed, Cutler started rummaging through shelves and cupboards. His search was haphazard at best, and getting more frantic as the seconds ticked by. |