"Waking the dead is my speciality," Adam grinned and oh-so-carefully took another sip, both because he felt he needed a little strength before he proceeded and because he wanted to put the moment of truth off just a little longer.
Adam sighed and cradled the cup of coffee in his hands in an unconsciously protective gesture. "I got attacked." He finally admitted in a low voice. His mind went back to that night. To being cut open and finding his mother's prone form thrown aside somewhere in the corner of the living room. To the pain and to all that blood. He hadn't known there was so much blood in his body until he'd been bled out and...Adam gulped and forced his mind back to the present. He never noticed his trembling hands nor the fact that he has grown deadly pale. "Ghouls," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.