Paradigm Shift [On-going]

Rebirth

After arriving at the address Frederick had given him, Dean was immediately suspicious. He approached the entrance, where a large built man was standing guard and as he got closer, he noticed a name badge displaying the name Chuck. Dean was visually examined before being led towards an open storage locker and he cleared his throat as another man, this time slimmer in build, approached him.

"I uh...Frederick sent me. I need a three-month supply of the red stuff?" Dean said with uncertainty.

The man grunted in response and moved to the corner of the unit. He lifted a heavy-looking crate with ease and examined the contents.

"Blood group?" The slimmer man asked without turning to look at Dean "What was it when you were human?"

Dean answered and the slimmer man gathered up a dozen transit containers before handing them over. Dean examined the label on the red square shaped boxes.

HUMAN BLOOD
URGENT DELIVERY
FRAGILE

"Is that it?" Dean asked

"Leave your address and the rest will be delivered in due course" The slimmer man responded before disappearing inside the unit

It was obvious to Dean that whatever was going on at the facility wasn't exactly legal, but he didn't have it in him to care. His thirst was an overwhelming need that was impossible to resist. His mouth was watering just from knowing what was inside the containers and after leaving his address, he didn't stick around. His throat was uncomfortably raw with the need to drink.

Dean hadn't expected a list of instructions to be inside each container, and it was very specific. The blood had to be kept at a temperature between 33.8-50°F and had to be stored in an upright position. Each 500ml pouch had to be completely consumed once opened and could not be refrigerated after reaching room temperature. Blood had to be stored in an appropriate chilled container while travelling and must be shaken vigorously before consuming. It had taken Dean an hour to get all the blood unpacked and stored correctly, and he'd had to pause a few times so that he could drink. He'd sunk his teeth directly into the pouches like a wretched beast, and he was disgusted with himself. Once he'd finished, he made his way into his bedroom and paused as he passed a mirror.

* * *
Dean

My first reaction was shock. I didn't expect to have a reflection, but I did, and I struggled to recognise myself. Who was he? This unfamiliar man in the mirror was perfectly smooth, flawless and void of scars, with skin only slightly lighter than my own. His eyes were startling red, but the shape of them was familiar. I studied this man, looking for myself in him and there was something there, in the face shape. I reached up to run my fingers through my hair and the mirror image mimicked my movement perfectly. I laughed, the mirror image laughed, I frowned, the mirror image frowned. It was me in the reflection and I couldn't quite believe it. His My hair was shinier, fuller, and with my newly improved eyesight I could identify the many color depths that combined to create my unique hair color. My teeth looked normal apart from two pointed sharp canines. I suddenly remembered my injury and lifted my arm up, examining it for any sign of damage; there was nothing, not even a hint of a mar. How would I explain my miraculous recovery to my employer? Would they notice I had changed? Would I even be able to go back to work? Or was I doomed to spend eternity in hiding because I couldn't be trusted around humans?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A week passed and Dean had controlled his thirst by consuming blood at regular intervals throughout the day. Once the rest of his three-month supply was delieved he'd purchased some steel travel cups large enough to hold one pouch of blood each and filled all of them up before placing them back into his fridge. He'd figured that if someone paid him a visit, they'd be less likely to ask about a drinks fridge stacked full drinking cups than they were if they were to see a bunch of blood pouches inside. At the weekend, Dean was tired of being inside and ventured outside for a walk; a decision he soon regretted