Excerpt: Warlock's Donor

A single light bulb was shining dimly above the counter in Casimir Warlock's underground laboratory. He was just finishing grinding to powder several plants and minerals he had discovered during his many travels over the prior few years, and tipped the mortar into a fine seive. Gently shaking it, he collected its contents into a fine powder and funneled them into a small round vial. Holding it up to the light, it glistened slightly as he smiled to himself.

Looking over, the young man who had attempted to break into Casimir's study was groaning and convulsing on his counter. "No need to pity him," Casimir thought to himself, "He's having a better time than he has been his whole life." He reached over hold up the man's head. His eyes had turned to hazel disks, the whites of his eyes milky and pale. It was the normal course of things. Looking down to the opposite side of his neck, Casimir saw his target, two gently bleeding puncture wounds into which had been injected the venom that caused the man to act in such a manner.

Taking his vial, Casimir tapped a small amount of the powder onto the man's neck until it filled the wounds. Almost immediately, it began to flesh out and match the color and texture of the man's skin, growing into the tiny nuances of the wounds.

Casimir smiled, relieved that his powder had worked, seemingly by magic, as he rubbed it deeper into the wound. When he was satisfied that the cause of his actions was no longer detectable, he threw the man over his shoulder and ascended the tiny staircase into a concrete tomb in St. Januarius Cemetery. Continuing on, he saw his sister and brother in law dancing in the moonlight outside of another tomb. Smiling again but otherwise disregarding them, he walked through the shadows to get to the hospital which shared the cemetery's patron saint and gently laid the man in front of the door. Hurrying back to avoid the fast approaching sun, he bowed to his relatives before returning to his tomb. As the door closed, he charmed it to appear unopened for years and yawned as he laid back in the sarcophagus to fall asleep.