The creepy old man led Seph over to an antique wooden table. Two porcelain cups sat atop it, their contents sickly red in color.
"Is that…"
Eugene grinned.
"Yep! Freshly harvested blood! You've gotta be careful to pick it from healthy folks, though. You don't want to catch any strange illnesses because of your favorite drink!"
Pointing at the glass, the old man frowned.
"It's already cooled. You don't need to drink it if you don't want to."
Seeing that Seph didn't really seem interested in drinking human blood, Eugene slid the cup over to his spot at the table.
"Here, take a seat. Let's have a chat."
Their previous conversation about Seph's mother had still been in progress, so Seph continued it as soon as she took her seat.
"So, you were saying that my mother hates you?"
Eugene nodded, his lips red from sipping on the cups full of blood.
