Wilbur Soot always knew he had a sickness, the type of sickness that ran through his blood, that took his viens and ate his heart. The Sickness which would thrive in every brunette strand of hair on his head and fester in his brown eyes.
So sick that he needed the proof of others blood to feed his sickness, not only their blood: thier flesh, their organs, their humanity, their purity, everything that made them human.
The sickness was greed. The sickness was anger. The sickness was the pain he would inflict on his prey. His sickness.
A sickness he learned to love, a sickness that gave him everything and pushed away everyone. A sickness that made a mother turn on her own son and a father fear his own blood.
A sickness that made Wilbur want to harvest everyone.
The Sickness wasn't picky but it did have a preference and unfortunately for Tommy Innit the sickness chose and loved him.
Poor Tommy Innit.
(this chapters very very short I'm so sorry. Also yes this is gonna be a tombur non con fanfic hate it all you want) words: 190