He is... faster than cars. At least cars walking in a town. He reaches his place without problems, and it's exactly as he left it.

Okay wonderful and he grabs the key from under the mat and opens the door because he doesn't want to go destroying property and he'll go into the house, shut the door, make sure all the windows and doors are closed and then he'll go shower and panic a little.

Apparently overnight the world decided it didn't want to talk to him anymore. Or hug him. Or behave in any way as if he were very high, which might be becoming a good explanation for what was going on after he woke up.

He doesn't want the world to hug him. Or maybe he does. But it's not going to and he can deal with this because he doesn't want to be high and he doesn't want to bite people and what the hell.

… Oh, right, burns in the sunlight, drinks people's blood, has super senses and stuff. He's a vampire. Of course he is.

Maybe! And there's a very conspicuous hole in his memory between the previous morning when he apparently blacked out and waking up naked in a hospital.

In a hospital's morgue.

Yeah. Well.

People possibly think he's dead in that case. He wonders if his mom knows. Probably.

Perhaps he should– call someone and let them know that he's not dead. Except that might be a terrible idea if they plan on visiting him since he seems so– likely to rip out their throat or some such.

He showers anyway. It's not that much effort to get sand off his body.

He is presently rid of sand and, you know, whatever else he picked while he was running around naked eating people. Probably a fleck of blood or two.

Or a bit more than that, yeah.

Theo then goes and grabs some clothes and thinks back on what the hell happened to him. Or what the hell he did.

He doesn't know if he can be held responsible for what he did, because he was really out of it, and he didn't intentionally get into that state – he doesn't know how he got into that state in the first place – but he feels like that's way too easy to just say from his own position, seeing as he's the one he's trying to absolve of guilt.

And all those people– he just attacked them all, focusing on their fucking smell?

Eugh. He just– he doesn't know what to do or what to have happen because if he's a vampire, that hardly seems controllable as a bloodlust, and really he probably shouldn't be in his house because he's in town and there are people around and he doesn't know if it'll be triggered by him just hearing them or even if it was just bloodlust or just a one-off thing or what.

Ooh a smell.

… Which direction is it coming from? Presumably he can tell with his enhanced senses and go grab it.

Downstairs! Right by his door.

Ooh! So he moves to go downstairs because these enhanced senses are so useful, wow, it's great that he became a vampi—

Wait.

He stops.

He thinks he's just going to hold his nose for a minute now, thanks. Maybe longer. Does he need to breathe? He can try not breathing.

It's... really uncomfortable not to breathe!

But no, he doesn't need to breathe. And he finds it's not actually hard to notice that the smell is very likely a person, per se—it just seems to be the case that his mind defaults to not noticing that unless he's paying attention.

Also it's significantly easier now that he's not hungry and really high on turning.

It is really uncomfortable not to breathe! That's true! But it'd be really fucking inconvenient for someone if he decided to bite them and drain them so he thinks he's just going to stick with the slight inconvenience of not breathing!

He is tempted to go find out why someone is right by his door – maybe it's a mailman, who knows – but he doesn't want to go down there while they're around, thanks muchly.

Person. It's a person. He's just going to sit here and try to focus on how much of a person with a whole history and a whole potential future and lots of relations to various people and money and a life and people who would miss them and– everything that he stole from the other people while he was high.

You know, it's really fucking horrible to focus on the fact you didn't mean to kill five people and yet did it anyway and look how much you've fucked with while doing it.

The noises—recognizably steps and a heartbeat—recede from his door.

And when he is really sure that they are gone, he will wait another minute and then go check for mail at his door.

There's an envelope on the ground.

He picks it up. Is it addressed to his mom? He's guessing it's addressed to his mom.

Nope! It's addressed to him! And written by one Sadde Woods, apparently.

… Right.

Well, he picks it up and opens it, in that case.

I have no idea why I'm writing this, because you're dead, and that sucks, and it makes no sense, and no one will give me any answers. I'm going to school and I won't see you, and it's pointless and stupid and I can't fix it and I don't even have any stupid magic that can undo this because I couldn't ever find any. Nothing other than the useless. Your mom will probably find this and, well, hi Theo's mom, I'm sorry for your loss, the world sucks, but I hope you know that your son'll be missed.

Goodbye, I suppose. I'm too atheistic to hope that an afterlife could be real, so I'll have to learn to live with the you-shaped hole now.

… Owch. Ow. That makes him feel even worse for being such a colossal monster because now he has someone unwittingly grieving over a murderer.

Eugh.

He's only been dead for like a day though, right? … He probably should check that. He should probably also check where his phone is because– while he gets very little signal out here, he still gets some, and while there's nobody he'd be likely to call at this time (except maybe Sadde, eugh) it would still be useful, right?

He goes to turn on his laptop and check the date.

Yeah, it's only been a day, he "died" yesterday.

… He remembers Sadde's number, right? He'd expect to. It's not that difficult to remember cell numbers. Unless Sadde has an obscure cell number.

Yep, he does. Given the time, Sadde is probably making their way to school.