You have to kill whoever answers that door. It's a non negotiable action. You have to. Whatever is behind that door is going to hurt you, and it's better that you kill it first. It won't be a person, that's for sure. The corrupted blood inside you demands it so. It claims that it's just to keep you safe. You're inclined to believe it.
The problem was, though, that a person answered the door. Despite the fact that they demanded blood, you knew you just couldn't do it. His name vaugely appears in your mind, and you loosely pull the ideas together that you know him, you know him. You shouldn't be doing this.
But you couldn't let go of the gun. You could never, this was the one thing keeping you safe here. But you know that you can't bring yourself to do anything to harm him. You lower the gun to the ground.
"I'm sorry." The words barely leave your mouth. "I'm sorry."
"Fine, fine, I just have to ask: How the hell did you get out?"
"No, no, it's my fault." You reply, slightly too quickly to be appropriate in conversation. "There's just something telling me to, okay? Okay, that's it."
He looks around a bit before taking your wrist. "Just get inside, okay?"
You instinctively try to pull away, eyes darting between your hand and his eyes. "Cmon, you don't have to do this. You don't! Just let go."