Opening Moves
Quick Warning I forgot to put in the first part: this
is one of my older stories, and is actually a short
story broken into parts for easier reading. The main
goal at the time was to write a story involving
elements from all four games that were yet on the
market...if changeling had been out there would have
been one....
-------------------------------------------------------
Marie and Micheal didn't have any idea what to say,
they were stunned and afraid of what looked like might
happen. Micheal edged his hand to his own pistol.
Lawrence had been more on the edge recently, but it
seemed that he had completely snapped. Almost as if
he actually believed that he and Marie were still
married.
Above them, Mina moved downstairs to a bottom floor
in the near-abandoned building she was using as hiding
place. She carefully put the sniper rifle together as
she watched the drama unfold.
"Put your hands up, bastard, don't think I don't know
what your doing," Lawrence, gun leading the way, and
grabbed Mike's gun out of its holster. "A gun, eh,
and what were you going to do with that mister. Shoot
pigeons?"
"I'm on duty," Micheal explained angrily.
"Is that so?" Lawrence asked. "You're a cop." He
knew that, he'd been on Mike's case the entire
two-years of his relationship with Marie. In the
distance the sound of closing sirens was heard. "You
call your friends on me, cop?!" the raging man yelled
in Micheal's face. Before he had a chance to answer,
Lawrence shot him six times. Three of the bullets
passed through the vest he was wearing.
"Michael!" Marie screamed as her fiancee slumped to
the ground. Lawrence turned the gun on her, and was
about to shoot, but he then changed his mind when he
saw the cops lined up behind him.
"Back off or I shoot the little whore." Of course if
they did back off he'd shoot her anyway, and there was
the fact that one of their brethren was lying in the
street probably bleeding to death. "I said back off,"
he growled and his gun hand jerked a little. In time
with the movement a shot rang out and took one of the
cops in between the eyes. The air was suddenly filled
with gunshots as the cops retaliated to what they
thought had been an action by their suspect.
Across the street, in the wreck of a building behind
the gunman, Mina smiled as she left to head back home.
Maybe Renfield would let her play with Katrina today.
Carmilla awoke a few hours before sunset screaming
from the nightmares of her sleeping period. After she
realized her surroundings she realized that she was
once again inside the Box. She couldn't remember how
long ago she had been put in, two, three days maybe as
many as five. She had lost count only He and Lucy
knew for sure.
Carmilla was hungry, but there was nothing to eat in
the lightless room. Who knew how long it would be she
was let out of this thing.
The only living things in the room with her were
insects, and unlike most people they didn't repulse
her, not anymore. After five years with Him she found
animals of anykind to be more trustworthy. Then she
noticed that the room wasn't totally lightless
anymore, a thin beam of sunlight streamed in on the
far side of the room. It provided enough light for
Carmilla's...
"Katrina!" she screamed suddenly. "My name is
Katrina! Katrina Wujick! I am not Carmilla! I am
not Carmilla. I am not Carmilla..." He had almost
won a battle at just that moment. She had almost
forgotten who she was, just like Lucy and Mina. He
had come close to winning many times over the past
year. Too many for Katrina's liking.
She breathed out a sigh and cried herself back to
sleep, the tears staining the white t-shirt she wore,
the only bright thing she had been allowed, but one
more stain hardly mattered one way or the other.
Especially with the Hunger calling to her so loudly.
At ten o'clock in the morning the telephone rang at
the apartment of Bregan and Micheal Rohan. Before the
first ring had died out, Bregan had the phone to his
ear.
"Hello?"
"Bregan Rohan?" the voice on the other end asked. He
sounded about as caring toward humanity as the Red
Talons. No that wasn't accurate. The Red Talons
cared about humanity, they just thought that it should
be driven to extinction. Bregan doubted if anyone
could evoke an emotional response from the faceless
man at the other end of the phone.
"Yes."
"This is San Francisco Metropolitian Hospital. I'm
calling about your brother." Bregan shifted forward
in his seat, dreading the news he knew was coming.
"Yes?"
"Your brother was shot several times today. Some of
the bullets punched through the vest he was wearing.
He was treated for gunshot, internal bleeding and
cracked ribs. He has not regained conciousness, and
it is not known at this time whether he shall
survive."
"Thanks, I'll come right down." The resigned,
emotionless expression in Bregan's suddenly gravelly
voice surprised even the robot-like speaker on the
other end, thus destroying Bregan's theory.
"Er...Visting hours are from noon to six pm." Then
there was a click as the caller hung up. Okay, so he
was wrong. The robot was capable of emotions.
Bregan set down the phone with his suddenly hairy and
clawed hand. He looked into the mirror and saw that
he had shifted into Glabro form during the
conversation. A note to those who knew him about how
angry he truly was.
"I need to see him sooner than that." Bregan stood
up out of the chair and walked forward. Suddenly the
air rippled around him and he seemed to walk behind a
wall that wasn't there. When he'd vanished the air
returned to normal, with him gone.
He appeared in the Umbra a minute later, one of two
spirit worlds that shadowed the physical one. He knew
the approximate direction of the hospital and he began
to head in that direction. Bregan knew a Silent
Strider with a theory that he wanted to test. Bregan
hoped to Gaia that he was right.
About an hour later, with no real problems from the
local spirits, Bregan was nearing the hospital. Like
almost all of the other buildings in the city, the
hospital was covered with what looked to be
crsytallized spider webs. Above him on the telephone
wires and power lines he watched as innumerable net
spiders rushed about to deliver their messages and
carry out other errands.
Ten, even five, years back it would never have been
so busy. Now that nearly everybody had a connection
to the Internet the traffic had increased. It was one
of the increasingly rare instances of the Weaver and
the Wyld combining powers to make something wonderous.
That was the way the world was supposed to work,
before the Wyrm and the Weaver went insane.
Bregan didn't have time for theology though. He
entered the umbral shadow of the hospital cautiously.
All kinds of people came to hospitals and they were
often crowded. As a result numerous spirits also
converged on such places. Banes found much here to
ply their trade of corruption and suffering. Despite
this, it was rare that a truly dangerous infestation
could be found in a such a place of good will.
At least he was safe from the restless souls of dead
men and women, they dwelled in the Underworld, a
seperate, darker version of the Umbra. Few Garou
traveled there, those that did rarely spoke of what
they found. Bregan sometimes heard the wraiths'
voices speaking as he heard those of the Umbral
spirits. His uncle told him that this was a gift most
theurge did not possess and should be cherished.
Bregan thought it was a damnable curse.
He found his brother's room quickly, not encountering
even a single Bane or other hostile spirit. Entering
the room, he found that his friend's theory held some
truth. Their was his brother's umbral shadow lying on
the bed, but unlike the shadows of most people, this
one was aware of the room around it.
"Bregan?" the shadow asked. Bregan nodded his head.
"Good to see you." The shadow sat up then. "Where
is this place?"
"The Umbra." At seeing Micheal's puzzled look he
clarified. "The spirit world."
"Then I'm dead," Micheal's shadow stated. Bregan's
response took him by surprise.
"No, if you were dead you would be either in the
Underworld or else you'd be where ever it is humans
without unfinished buisness go. Either way you'd be
beyond my power to find you. At least that's how
Dreamwalker explained it to me."
"The short term is I'm still alive," the shadow
looked over his brother. "I assume you came to
discuss my note."
"The thought had crossed my mind." Micheal gestured
for him to continue. "What the hell were you thinking
Mike? They changed the meeting place and you go along
with it! You're going to be a father, Micheal and you
can't..." Micheal was laughing. "There's nothing
fuckin' funny about this Mike."
"Are you listening to yourself?" he asked. Bregan
paused, then his eyes widened a little.
"I sound like you! Oh, man, look what you're doing
to me." They chuckled a little at the idea.
"They mentioned Marie." It was short, simple and to
the point. Bregan nodded understanding as he looked
to his future sister-in-law's umbral shadow, firmly
attached to her body, and unaware of spirit world
around it.
"I'll get the guy Mike, you just rest, not that you
have much choice. As for security."
"I think Lieutenant Jacobs could help in that
regard," Micheal suggested.
"I'll have to see him when he gets off then." Bregan
looked about the room as if searching for something,
his gaze immeadiatly settled on the window.
The spirit he was about to bind was usually something
only Glass Walkers toyed with. As Micheal's shadow
watched Bregan prepared the talismans he had dedicated
to himself to be used in ceremony. Bregan then began
chanting in Celtic and dancing about the room to the
amazement of his brother's shadow.
The window of the room began to shake and warp as the
dance continued, resisting whatever sort of ritual
Bregan was performing. By the end of the ceremony,
Bregan had triumphed despite the alien nature of the
glass elemental. Now he had to face it down to truly
bind it. His willpower matched with that of the
elemental's.
"Guard my brother's spirit and body from attack until
he is again healthy. Inform me of any major event."
That could be a long time, do you have the power to
keep me bound that long? It wasn't so much a voice as
it was a feeling. Something that emanated from the
glassy humanoid form before him.
"I'll worry about that when the subject turns up."
You are barely more than a cub, Fianna.
"And you are meerly a jaggling." It was a game
between binder and spirit, to admit weakness was to
lose.
Indeed, until the question is answered then. The
creature warped back into a window.
"See you later, Mike." Bregan waved buy to his
brother, and walked out of the room. On the stairwell
he stepped sideways back into the physical world, he
then walked back down the hallway to Mike's room for a
more official visit.
Jaera wasn't getting anywhere. Investigation had
never been her strong point. She had shown that
picture of Jared Mason about many of the nightclubs in
town. Nobody had seen him in any of those places.
Now she was about to show another person the picture,
a remake of a picture over one hundred years old. She
always claimed that the Confederate uniform was some
sort of Halloween costume.
"Yeah, I've seen him before," Jenny said. Jaera
blinked, surprised by the words.
"You have?"
"Yeah, he's always at the Shadowspot nightclub,
usually after dark. Always leaving with a different
girl each time." She paused a moment and scrunched up
her forehead in thought. "No, that's not right,
there are two different girls that he sometimes comes
in with. A blonde and an Indian, you know, the Asian
kind, but they don't come often, usually it's just
him."
"Thank you, you've been a lot of help," Jaera
commented as she got up to leave.
"No problem, talk to you later."
Jaera never noticed the man try to follow her, but
she lost him anyway, being like a needle in a haystack
to normal people.
The man waited patiently outside the bar, and when
Jenny Simon walked out of the bar he was ready for
her. If he couldn't catch the searcher, he'd bring
the source of information. He dragged the unconcious
girl to his car, to be driven to Varney's apartment.
>From there the ghoul took her to Renfield's haven.
Lieutenant Karl Jacobs walked confidantly to his car
from the police station, a little more money in his
account than the previous day. It was such an easy
task to perform when one considered the money. Not to
mention that strange red drug that seemed to bring
Jacobs some measure of his lost youth. He couldn't
remember exactly how he had come to the drug-lord's
payroll, and he didn't care much either.
He sat down into his car and turned the engine
casually. He pulled the car out of the police station
parking lot and into traffic. Traffic was very light
for some reason, and continued to thin out as he
proceeded along towards his home.
He was nearly a block from his street when he first
felt the gun barrel against the back of his neck.
There was not a single car in sight. The crooked cop
looked nervously into the rear view mirror and saw
Bregan Rohan sitting behind him.
"Hello, lieutenant, your gun please." the young man
said, Jacobs very slowly removed his service pistol.
"I believe we need to talk about how my brother ended
up where he did. Take the highway out of town."
"Your brother got careless," the nervous man said to
the seated figure in back seat. "He should have
called for back up."
"He did," Bregan assured him. "He talked to you,
and you sent him off without letting him speak."
"That's ridiculous," Jacobs claimed. "You're only
making trouble for your self, Bregan."
"I already have trouble, sir," Bregan smiled,
twisting the title into an insult. "And I have
witnesses to prove your lie."
"Who are these witnesses?" Karl Jacobs asked quickly,
he was sweating now. They left the city behind and
entered the wilds just beyond.
"That is not important, Lieutenant. What is
important is the question who paid you the twenty
thousand in your account?"
"I don't have one thousand in my account, much less
twenty," Jacobs began.
"Yes, you do, under the name Jacob Karr," Bregan
shook his head and tsked at the crooked cop.
"Somewhat unimaginative if you ask me."
"I am willing to forget this," Jacobs began to say.
He couldn't seem to bring himself to betray his
employer, there had to be another way out of this.
"Don't worry about it," Bregan told him. Outside,
the sun began to go down, he would have some cover
fairly soon. "The evidence is already being
delivered, I just want to know who paid you, and where
I can find him."
"You don't have anything, else I would already be in
custody." He was confidant now. "Let me go now, and
I'll forget this little incident." His passenger had
ceased paying attention and begun looking out the car
windows. "There's no way out of this. You should
have planned this a little better."
"Stop here," Bregan comanded. It was now totally
dark and they were at least ten miles beyond the city
limits. Residences were few and far between, and at
this time of night virtually no one was about. "Get
out of the car."
"You're going to shoot me," Jacobs almost laughed as
he exited the car. "They'll easily trace it back to
you, it's almost worth dying to have you given a life
sentence."
"All I was going to do was talk to you," Bregan left
the car slowly, he appeared larger for some reason,
and he had left the gun in the car. "I wasn't even
going to accuse you." The young man smiled, revealing
sharp teeth. "That was before I smelled the vampire
on you, then it became tell me or die. Now, ghoul,
run and die, or die where you stand. It makes no
difference to me."
"Vampires are fiction, boy, don't you know that?"
Jacobs was backing away now, despite his confidant
words. Bregan was obviously a little off his rocker,
and not to be negotiated with. Jacobs was confidant
of his ability to beat him in melee, which it looked
like it was going to come to.
"Fiction, just like werewolves." As Bregan completed
his words, he suddenly grew larger and then smaller
again, taking the form of a great wolf. Now all his
words came out as growls and barks.
Jacobs ran backwards a few steps, before turning
around and sprinting full out away from the insane
thing he had just seen. He could hear the wolf's
pounding feet behind him as it loped after him.
"Dream!" he shouted to himself. "It has to be a
dream!" Something huge vaulted over his head and
landed in front of him. A huge man-wolf that looked
like it could easily weigh in at a lean five hundred
pounds.
"If dream, you 'wake now," the thing growled at the
lieutenant.
Normal humans would have been driven temporarily
insane by the Crinos form of a Garou, but Jacobs was
no longer completely human. He had been given samples
of Renfield's blood in the form of an injection for
the past few months. His wits were unaffected by any
form of supernatural hindrance, of course none was
really needed.
Jacobs screamed as the Garou's claw descended towards
him. The screams did not last very long. The next
morning the news would be full of the tradegy, a wild
dog killing a respected lieutenant in the police
force.
Dr. Emily Grange awoke from her daysleep to the sound
of her phone ringing.
One. Two. Pause. One. Two. Pause. One. Two.
Pause.
Her answering machine had been set for three rings,
obviously somebody wanted to talk to her directly.
She moved swiftly to exit the fortified basement that
served as her haven. The phone had barely finished
its latest one, two cycle as she reached it.
Unsurprisingly, her caller ID named the caller as a
pay phone. She lifted the phone to her ear in an
irritated and sudden motion.
"Who is this?" she asked. "And what's so important
that I have to come home to a ringing phone?"
"Temper, Doc," a deep voice advised calmly. Emily
Grange's anger vanished like a vapor. "If I were a
snake, I would have bitten you for that response."
Grange's blood would have chilled if it weren't cold
already.
"What do you want?" she asked cautiously.
"I'm a colleauge of yours. In a fashion," the voice
was still calm. "It seems I could use your assistance
with a matter. Maybe we could meet at your office, to
discuss matters." Grange calmed down a little, this
was territory she knew. Twenty minutes later she was
walking into her office to find a tall man with dark
hair sitting in her chair.
"What is this case you were wanting to discuss with
me?" she asked the man before her, and it was a man.
She could almost see the heat of his living blood
emanating from his body, The eyes, however spoke of
great age despite the thirty year-old body. The man
was obviously a ghoul, somebody's servant out doing
the master's dirty work.
"A police officer was shot today, isn't it tragic."
Mock pity virtually oozed over each word.
"Yes," she agreed. "It always is. How did this
happen?"
"It seems he was shot at close range by a large
pistol," the man said sorrowfully, emphasizing the
phrases close range and large pistol. "A
comprehensive examination will reveal nothing more,
but this man was a friend of mine. I want to be sure
that he is cremated as per his wishes."
"A simple procedure," Emily agreed. "And for this
favor then you give me what?"
""Why, I should say that would be obvious." The man
had no accent, as if he had carefully erased it.
"I want to hear it in plain terms," Grange insisted.
"My share of this deal involves keeping the Camarilla
blissfully unaware of your dealings with the Setites."
"Supposing I seek the Setites' aid in dealing with
you." She did not fear the man, ghoulish blood aside.
"Don't bother, I've already spoken with Jean-Claude,"
The lifeless smile touched the ghoul's face again.
"The Setites go to so much trouble to hide their
hearts, it would be a shame if no one ever bothered to
look for them."
"You have his heart?" Emily Grange faltered a
moment, could Jean-Claude possibly be as powerful a
Setite as that. To remove the heart from his body?
"It took a good deal of time and money," the ghoul
admitted. "But yes we have the snake's heart."
"I guess we have a deal then," Dr. Emily Grange
spoke, finally, defeated.
"I thought we might." The man made as if to leave,
and then turned to dig the point a little further in.
"The Followers of Set are, by most opinions, the most
hated of your kind. The Sabbat fear them, the Inconnu
despises them, and the Camarilla, seems to have a mix
of the two emotions. It wouldn't do for your
acquaintances with them known, now would it." He then
walked calmly to the door, confidant in his safety.
"One thing first," Grange demanded as he reached the
door. The man stopped and turned around, with an
annoyed look on his face. This ghoul was
exceptionally arrogant considering the one-sided
nature of a conflict between them. "Who's your
master?"
"My master is long dead, girl," he said without any
hint of emotion. "Longer dead than you've been
alive." The ghoul then left without any more notice
for the vampire behind him.
=====
"Caffeinated Kender? What's that, a berserk spell?" -
Tribble, Kender Warrior of the Celestial Kingdom
Signed
He of Too Many Names (Thrythlind/Thryth/Luke/Hyperbole/Pika/Pooka)
http://members.aol.com/thrythlind/snake.html
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