After Virgil's morning episode I wasn't sure we should go out tonight. He finally calmed down in the office and we saw patients as usual, but he didn't have the same compassion for the ailing animal's. He just went through the motions as we made our rounds from room to room. I knew he was just biding his time until the hunt. I knew he was thirsty for blood. The nausea was pushing my morning bagel up my throat. Waves of guilt turning my skin from hot to cold. I was in debt to Vigril for saving me, what now seemed like a lifetime ago. I owed him that much. So I ignored the signs and pushed through the day, mentally preparing myself for the night.
I ate my dinner as twilight fell. A bowl of luke warm soup. My stomach was on edge, I couldn't stand to eat more and I wasn't sure I could hold it down during the evening festivities, so I ate enough to give me the strength for what was bound to be a long night. Friday's were always the worst. Everyone on their best behavior all week, and Friday they let it all go. And the evil one's, they preyed on that. Friday's were full of rapes and murders and robberies. Friday's used to terrify me, always looking over my shoulder. Now we had the upper hand. We were creating our own destiny. That's what I kept telling myself. But really, I was just praying Virgil could still tell the difference between the good and the bad.
As soon as the last bit of light faded from the sky I watched Virgil stand up from his bed and walk to the front door. His body strong, and confidant. His hazel eyes almost darkened as he sat there patiently by the door, staring up at me. I made believe it was just the shadows in the house darkening them, but I knew better. I knew he was hungry. I knew it was time. So I joined him at the door and we walked into the night.