Blood & Bone [Book Three of The City of Eternity Series] [✔]

3.23 Retrouvailles

I'd regretted turning back to the freezer almost instantaneously. I'd expect an escaped werewolf who was simply overwhelmed by their new-found freedom - if anything, perhaps a vampire who was desperate for an ounce of blood in their system. There are few words to describe the sight that befell my eyes.

There was a man - a distinctively human man, hunched over the freezer like a predator. With a step closer I watched as he began to gouge on the flesh with an insatiable hunger. His eyes were stern and unfocused, lost in a frenzy of what could only be described as obsession. Keeping my gaze fixed on him, I began to funnel the packs of meat in my arms into my coat pockets, realising very suddenly, if he was desperate enough he would attempt to take them from me - and that was spell trouble for one of us, and given his humanity, that would likely be him.

The man seemed vaguely familiar - his sharp features were unmistakable, and he displayed a well-groomed beard that framed his face, every inch of it manicured to perfection. He was dressed in a tailored suit, each piece of which had a distinctively different blue tone, but specifically chosen for this man to wear. All of this leaned towards a man who exuded confidence and lived a life well-lived, which really could only mean this was a man who lived his life in the walls of Central.

I approached him with a calm demeanour, extending my palms in a non-threatening gesture. I steadied my voice, ready to receive the brunt of the man's distress, "Hey, take a deep breath."

The man was mid-bite when his eyes had darted towards me while his body was fixed in place - guarding the freezer. It was his eyes that gave me some clarity of my earlier flicker of recognition - the ocean blue that had once offered a stream of sympathy.

"Sebastian," I whispered, trying not to startle him. He was clinging desperately to the pack of meat in his hands, the frozen plastic sticking to his fingertips and the condensation running down his arms.

Sebastian's eyes, still clouded with hunger, looked up at me, a flicker of recognition crossed his face, "Arsenio?" He said weakly, his voice barely audible, the noise struggling to escape through the strings of meat in his mouth. He seemed barely aware of his surroundings, his body trembling and his whole focus on the meat in his arms.

I stepped closer, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, a worrying realisation that I'd never seen it this bad before, if this was that, "Sebastian, what happened to you?" I asked, trying to understand what could've happened in such little time - given that this was the man who seemed so tied in and consumed by Central, it was difficult to believe what I thought was happening, was actually happening. What could have led this man so astray?

His response was pained, cryptic even, "I've been fighting it. For days," He mumbled between hefty bites, his voice barely making it through the teeth that were gripping down on bone, fiercely attempting to crack through.

"What do you mean fighting it?" I pressed immediately, taking another step towards the man, hoping to coax out a coherent answer. It wasn't until his chewing came to a halt that I'd processed what had been said to me and added on quietly, "Days?"