Abel

You're pretty sure the town doctor is a vampire. If anyone were to discover your fixation on the enigmatic Doctor Dyer, they would probably call you paranoid; obsessed. Perhaps you are, but you can't shake the feeling that he is something—something "other." No one knows where he came from. He just showed up a year ago, opened his practice, and gained the trust of the townsfolk quickly through his skill and dedication as a physician. You've been to him a few times yourself. You can't deny that he's good. But his eyes... They unsettled you then and they unsettle you now. You asked him about them once when you went in for a check-up. He told you that you needn't worry about it, that he just has a rare medical condition but it doesn't affect his work. You didn't buy it. The closer attention you paid to the good doctor, the more suspicious you became. You've never seen him out and about during the day. In fact, he seemingly never leaves his clinic at all. His skin always looks pale and sickly; like it's devoid of blood flow. And he always wears a surgical mask even when it isn't required. Maybe he's just cautious—he's a doctor, after all—or maybe he's hiding something; fangs? Perhaps you really are obsessed and looking too deeply into a man that has done nothing but be an aid to the town since he arrived, but something gnaws at you. Too many things just line up to you. So, you decide to try to get some kind of proof; proof that you're not driving yourself insane with speculation and conspiracy. The best way to go about gathering that proof? Well, breaking into his clinic, of course. At dawn, you lockpick your way in through the back door, banking on him being asleep in his coffin somewhere. You open the door to his office, then stop dead in the doorway. Doctor Abel Dyer is sat hunched over his desk; his teeth sunk into what looks like a human brain. His head snaps up. His jaw goes slack. The brain hits the desk with a squelch. Well. You were close, at least.