Your knuckles turn white as you tightly clutch onto the medical kit. By no means are you qualified enough to work on him yourself, but maybe you can address his wound and keep him from bleeding to death, that was if he were still bleeding from his neck. The wound on his throat looks old, the flesh tissue dead and the blood dried over. Something wasn't right.
The front door remains open, as if he had left his posistion at the window and forced the door open to get in. This was too odd. Staggering towards you at a lurching gait, he lets out a distant moan for contact. Clearing your throat, you call out, "Sir! Please sit down!"
He doesn't stop, no, your voice seems to of only made his pace quicker. Before you know it he's less then three feet away and a horrid stench fills your nostrils. Then, without warning, the man lunges at you, his pale hand clutching tightly onto your wrist. He tries to draw you in as he opens his mouth and leans in on you. It looks as if he's going to try and bite you! Do you..
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