Link to the whole series on Ao3
Jonathan Sims: Martin, if you are hearing this, I am sorry to say that you were right. It wasn't just a mugging.
...and I'm sorry. For not saying goodbye. Don't come to look for me. I don't want to be found.
S- He sighs. Statement begins. Statement of Jonathan Sims, well, likely former Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute and... vampire.
You were there for my last statement, Martin, but for anyone else listening to this let me catch you up on the details of what happened on July 4th. I was waiting at a bus stop when a woman lured me into an alley and mugged me, or at least that is what I thought at the time. I still don't have a memory of what actually happened, but it is as you suspected. She was a vampire. I shouldn't have dismissed you so quickly but I- I suppose I didn't want to believe it.
I wish it had just been a mugging.
The week after the attack was... surprisingly normal. I felt a little faint at times, and you kept insisting I was a little pale, but for the most part there was little I could not blame on lack of sleep or leftover adrenaline from that night. That was what proved, in my mind, that there was nothing supernatural about the attack.
I know now, it was likely my body working its way through the blood I had left.
It wasn't until that weekend that I began feeling... thirsty is the best way I can describe it, though the sensation is nothing like the thirst I felt as a human. It was more like... that feeling one gets from surviving for three days on nothing but caffeine. Jittery, hungry and tired, your body longing for a proper meal. I put it down to lack of sleep.
It wasn't as if there was one big change, I suppose that must have happened whilst I was sleeping off the effects of the attack, so a lot of things I just assumed were stress or tiredness. One time, on the Monday as I recall, I was walking through the Institute and I attempted to catch my reflection in a mirror. It was one of the old ones, with a silver back. It was blurry, but I could not see myself in it, only the shadows of the dark room. It was things such as that that should have made me realise.
It wasn't till Thursday that I made the connection between the attack and my symptoms.
You might recall, Martin, that Tim had been re-sizing some paper using the guillotine, and that he cut himself. I could smell it all the way from the Archives, although I did not yet know what I was smelling. I assumed somebody had decided to make lunch, a rare occurrence given we usually go out to Pret, but not impossible. I paused my statement- I know, very out of character for me, but I was so... thirsty. When I got to the room, everyone was present and accounted for. I could not understand where the smell had come from until I saw Time stick his finger into his mouth to remove the blood.
I turned around and headed downstairs, ashen. The reality of my condition crashed down upon me. All the "coincidences" began to lay themselves out in an awful pattern, pointing to only one explanation. I was a vampire.
The sound of a door opening and some quiet conversation.
M- Martin? No, don't come down here. I'm fine. You go to Pret, I've already eaten.
(Whispered) Please, please leave.
Excellent. I'll see you later.
Apologies, I need a minute. Statement paused.
