The morning hadn't started well, which honestly should've been a sign that he should lock all his doors and windows, close the blinds and just lie in bed until it passed.
William had woken up with his pillow soaked almost through in blood, having lapsed into low-mid symptoms sometime in the middle of the night. It was more like an everyday occurrence for him by this point and though his limbs did feel stiffer and he was colder than usual, he decided against his better judgement just to tough it out anyways. Usually it would've been fine. Clean himself up, get some tissues for his nose, throw the pillow into the laundry hamper and he was golden.
The bleeding stopped on his bus ride to work. It started again when he was shelving books in the later afternoon.
The second time around, after he'd had a somewhat stressful meeting with the headmistress about potential funding, the blood came fast and hard with minimal warning. One moment his nose was just dripping - something he could usually contain with some time in his office and a wad of tissues - and the next he turned to cough and got a splattering of blood and bits on the floor.
Shit.
The briefest glance in a window quickly confirmed his fears; his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils glazed over, and every time he blinked trickles of blood would fall down his cheeks from the corners of his eyes. He held his hands in front of his face for just a moment before he had to look away; his skin had turned paper white and hideous blue veins seemed to pulse just underneath. He coughed again. More blood.
The change was coming on frighteningly quick and he stumbled, crashing to the floor as he tried to shamble to his office where the phone was. Another attempt, then another, leaving bloody smatterings in his wake as he slammed the door shut behind him and shakily reached for the phone.
Call 911. Call the hospital...
By the time they were wheeling him into the ER, strapped down tight in a gurney, William was barely lucid. He'd already soaked through the bed in blood; it was coming out of his eyes, mouth, ears, nose... Even his pores seemed to seep it. The team that had been sent after him were informed of his condition: don't get anything on you, don't get scratched or bitten... They were in full body suits.
Unfortunately, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. William was lurching and straining against his heavy restraints; they creaked despite being made to handle someone much bigger. He wheezed and gasped heavily, occasionally making a guttural gurgling noise and something akin to "stay away".
In his severe state, all that could be done was to put him under heavy security, isolate him and wait for it to pass.
He was wheeled off to an empty security ward where he was restrained even further; the personnel did their job and quickly evacuated the room. William was surrounded by florescent lights, security cameras, observation window and very little else.
William's conscious mind could barely make out what was around him. He could see, smell, hear... But he could barely control what he was doing. He wanted to lie very still, but his body practically hummed and itched and get out get out get out--
