Chapter Text
‘Wanted: Blood Letting Companion’.
A post more ridiculous could never have shown up anywhere else. It seemed almost like a trap. A trap that irregardless, had him hooked.
Kirk kept coming back to the post he’d found on craigslist. Whoever had posted it had left a lot of details, yet hardly any explanation. Instead it just distracted Kirk as he tried to make his plasma, making him think of the anonymous poster offering up their own blood.
The poster was asking for ‘preferably those with medical experience’ to help them with blood draws on a two to three week schedule, but didn’t say why. The end of their post made a key point: “you can do whatever you want with the blood once it’s drawn. Just please don’t use it in any necromantic rituals. I can’t live with that on my conscience”
It was an oddly specific stipulation to make, and made him wonder whether or not they’d be okay with a research doctor turned vampire consuming their blood.
As the plasma spun in the autoclave, Kirk went back to the post for the hundredth time, reading through it and searching for answers that- despite the post being so straight forward- weren’t there. Why? Who needed bi to tri weekly blood draws and didn’t have a doctor or nurse to do it for them?
It’d first been published 16 days ago, so he assumed their offer was still on the table. The poster had attached their cellphone number, which Kirk hastily punched into his own phone.
“Hi, my name is Kirk,” he spoke as he typed, “this is about the blood draws. Do you still need someone to do them?”
Real blood. The idea made him suck in a deep breath and stare off into space as his mouth watered at the idea. The recipe for plasma that he and Magnus had designed got him by, and so did picking a criminal that wouldn’t be missed, but this was different. Nobody had ever offered their blood to him.
And then he set his phone down with a smack. If the post was fake, or the poster no longer needed anyone, there was no point in fixating on the possibilities. He was about to go back to working on his blend when it vibrated against the table top. That was fast.
‘Hi! Yes, I’m still looking for help. Do you have blood draw experience?’ they texted back.
‘Yes. I do research on blood. Looking for a cure for lymphoma’
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. At least not anymore, but he didn’t want to go name dropping just yet. They would surely find out later about who he really was, like if they met up with him in person.
‘Sounds like exciting stuff and I’m happy to contribute to the fight :) Do you want to meet tomorrow night and see if this’ll work out? Westenra @ 19:00?’
He knew where that was- it was midtown Gotham. Not the worst place, but he was definitely going to need somewhere to change. His social skills might have been as atrophied as his regular digestive tract, but Kirk wasn’t going to waltz into a bar in his usual Batman suit.
‘Of course, if you’re comfortable there, let’s meet.’
He had to set the phone down to go turn off the autoclave and store his fake plasma. But as he worked, he heard two more messages come through. Suddenly, he couldn’t finish packing his project away in the refrigerator fast enough.
‘Great! See you tomorrow!’ they replied, and then followed up shortly thereafter with an image.
Kirk wasn’t sure what he was looking at- a black denim jacket with a red skull on the back hanging over a kitchen chair. The skull had fangs and barbed points like horns on top of it’s head. Did this have something to do with his own identity? Did the poster already know who he was?
Unlikely, he reminded himself as he shook his head, forcing his thoughts to slow down before he jumped to any conclusions. While everyone knew Kirk Langstrom was Batman, very few knew his mobile phone number. Maybe they’d sent him the picture on accident, and he was drawing conclusions based on an innocent mistake. He was quite content with that answer- until his phone buzzed again on his countertop.
‘Look for this jacket! Thanks again :)’ their text read.
Ah, so the red skull on their jacket was supposed to be an identifier. But, that was it. No introduction, no asking for proof of his credentials. Nor did they ask what they were supposed to be looking for at this meetup. This whole thing seemed too good to be true, and for that reason alone, Kirk knew he needed to go.