More thoughts add themselves to the swirling storm in his mind. Like everyone else, his conception of vampires has been coloured by the likes of Stoker, painted as lethal, threatening, but somehow seductive creatures who draw a person in and then kill them. A towering, immaculate apparition.

Kind of like a seven-foot-frame.

Bruno rubs his hands over his face, trying to push his thoughts into some kind of order. How much of this is a ruse? How much isn't? And if he died or ended up a vampire, himself, well...

They'd lived without him just fine for ten years.

"I won't lie, I... felt a little used. But I'm no stranger to that. If I... offer myself, if... I have to die, will you spare the others? I don't want them to die... because of me."