For those curious as to which songs I've chosen for chapter titles, here's a list of all of Act One (including the chapters as yet unpublished.)
Tom Sawyer by Rush
Pictures of You by The Cure
She Sells Sanctuary by The Cult
Bloodletting by Concrete Blonde
Teacher Teacher by Rockpile
Regret by New Order
Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo
In Between Days by The Cure
Peace and Love, Inc. by Information Society
Desire (Come and Get It) by Gene Loves Jezebel
Most of these are fairly boilerplate Sirius First Wave songs. Rush is prog rock, a bit different than the rest of the list.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Act One Chapter Five - Teacher Teacher
Deborah pulled back the cover on the coffin and smiled. “Good evening.” She said, in a faux Bela Lugosi accent.
“Very funny.” Said Michael, sluggishly. He stepped forward out of the coffin.
At the end of the previous night, Deborah had led Michael back to her apartment and into the walk-in closet. There, she had placed two coffins against the wall, one for each of them. Michael had commented that it seemed rather stereotypical. Deborah’s reply had been that although coffins were not necessary for a vampire to find sleep, they did do a good job of keeping errant sunlight out during their slumber.
“So how are we today, my infant childe?”
“Confused. Bewildered.” Admitted Michael. “Hungry.”
“Normal.” Commented Deborah. “The first two will take time to resolve. The third we can do something about immediately.”
“So, we go forth to kill again?” said Michael, with a sardonic gloom.
“No, tonight you will learn to feed without killing. Come, downtown Blacksburg awaits.”
They left the apartment and wandered down the streets towards Main, where the bulk of the college town’s bars and taverns could be found. In the early evening of this Monday still had the downtown active and alive.
“College town.” Mused Michael. “Even on the first day of the school week, the bars are full.”
“Indeed they are. Makes our job easier. Especially considering…” she let her words trail off as she noticed a police officer coming down the street.
“They found her.”
“No doubt. There will be an increased police presence for a few days, perhaps weeks.”
“Won’t they wonder why there was a body drained of blood?”
“At first, but the press will not print anything about that and those officers assigned to the case will be…modified to forget that little bit.”
“Other kindred?”
“For some things. Mortals held in thrall for others. We have a whole network dedicated to keeping our existence secret from the mortal world. It is our most important law. We call it the Masquerade.”
“Why? If we are so much more powerful than they?”
“There was a time, long ago, when we moved openly and we were justly feared for our power. But as time went on, mortals grew more numerous and more sophisticated. So we withdrew to the shadows, hiding in their midst, convincing them that we are mere legend and folklore, lest they overwhelm us. As powerful as each of us is, we are no match for their numbers. Against one mortal, a kindred will be victor. Against one hundred or more, that’s something else.”
“I understand.”
“Good. This is why we do not kill indiscriminately. No question that a kindred will slip up from time to time and drink too deeply, killing their prey. But we try to avoid such a thing for dead bodies tend to draw suspicion, tend to make mortals fearful. Both make our lives more difficult and more dangerous.”
“So how do I stop myself?”
“By force of will. By the same means you would use as a mortal to not finish a plate of food. Simply setting a stopping point and holding to it.”
“And if I guess wrong?”
“Trust your instincts, but only to a point. Within you is a beast that would ravage the whole world if you let it. It's the monstrous spirit that has taken up residence in your soul. You must learn to master it, control it, or it will control you. Feeding is one of the more dangerous times. But you can tell, if you keep your wits about you, when you are taking your prey close to the point of death. This is your second lesson.”
“How long did it take you to learn it?”
“By my second night, I was feeding without killing. It does not take long to learn.” said Deborah. "One of the few benefits of your first kill is that you fed to satisfaction last night. Keep yourself 'topped off' as it were, and the Beast Within will be easier to manage."
"And how do I do that?"
"Take only a little blood each night from now on. From any one of these clueless mortals you see around you."
“But what if they make a scene? If they struggle? I have to bite. Wouldn’t that hurt?”
“It does for a moment, but then the Kiss kicks in. You remember it from when I fed from you. A feeling of bliss and ecstasy. Only the most willful will still resist you. Such that can are few and far between. As for the wound you leave, your saliva causes it to seal almost instantly. You leave a mark only upon the dead.”
“Convenient.”
“Indeed. Come. Let us see how your irresistible beauty serves you.”
“Is that how I’m to hunt?”
“I think you will find it far more stimulating and pleasurable than simply grabbing people in the dark as a robber might.”
“You want me to seduce someone? Fuck them?”
“If you want. Getting laid each night is a bit of a perk.”
“But what about us?”
Deborah laughed. “You are feeding, hunting, and enjoying it. Why would that bother me? I intend to do the same this night. Now go! It will be easier if they do not think we are together.”
Michael walked in first and looked around. He felt a bit of anxiety as he scanned the crowd. He headed over to the bar slowly, looking around for a potential victim as he did so.
As he approached the bar, it occurred to him that he did not know what would happen were he to consume human food and drink. He knew the legends, the old horror stories. Dracula did not drink...wine. What would happen if he did? After all, he figured that barfing up whatever drink he ordered would not do well for his efforts to appear irresistible to his mark.
He was not entirely sure how his powers worked, but he tried to relax, play it cool, smile. As he did so, he noticed that people’s heads turned. People began to take notice. A few, only those in close proximity. Michael smiled more broadly. This would be easier than he thought.
But as he reached the bar, Michael realized another problem. At age 18, he would be unable to buy a drink. Something non-intoxicating would have to do.
"A coke." he said to the barkeep.
"Not 21, eh?" said a voice nearby.
"Not yet." Michael lamented. He turned to look at the speaker. He was pleasantly surprised to see someone he knew, one of his classmates in the computer science program. She was dressed rather casually with a drink in hand, with dark hair and sharp blue eyes. Michael racked his brain to remember her name.
"Kris, isn't it?"
"Yeah, and you're Michael, one of the freshmen."
"Please don't hold that against me."
"I wasn't planning on it. I'm glad you're here. I always did think you were kinda cute."
"Oh?" remarked a surprised Michael. Was she sincere or were his new-found powers already working their magic? Either way, Michael knew he'd found his mark.
"Yeah. I'd seen you around campus and in the lab, wondering if you were seeing someone."
"Not anymore." said Michael with a grim tone.
Kris frowned. "I'm sorry."
Michael shrugged. "It was bound to happen. I'm here. She's back home. You know how it goes. So, this may be your lucky night. I seem to be on the market."
Kris laughed nervously. Michael's Coke arrived and he somewhat tentatively took a sip from it. It tasted really good, like the best soda he'd ever had. That took him aback a bit.
"Something wrong?"
"No, it's nothing." He took a few more drinks, savoring the flavor. This, he deduced, must be part of the vampire's enhanced senses. Taste was apparently not neglected in that.
At that moment, Deborah made her entrance. And nearly everyone in the bar knew it, as every eye drew towards her. Michael felt a twinge of envy and then a thought crossed his mind. "Soon that'll be me doing that."
"She certainly makes an entrance." quipped Michael.
"Hey, eyes over here." laughed Kris, grabbing Michael's chin and turning his head back to her. "Remember me?"
"Oh, how could I forget?" flirted Michael in return. "Say, interested in finding someplace a little less crowded?"
A sly smile crept across Kris' lips. "Sure."
Michael chugged down the rest of his Coke and headed for the door. Kris fell into step alongside him, hooking one of her arms about his waist. Michael placed his own arm across her shoulders and they headed toward the door together. Michael caught Deborah watching out of the corner of his eye. So far so good.
They headed outside into the cool October night, the evening chill refreshing compared to the heat of the crowded bar. Michael glanced up and down the street. "So where to?"
"I'm going to guess you walked over, so no convenient back seat of your car nearby."
"Aren't we in a hurry? The night is young!" exclaimed Michael, melodramatically. He felt high, like no matter what he said or did tonight, Kris would find it charming and irresistible.
"If you don't mind the walk, my dorm is over in Slusher."
"Lead on."
"You haven't had a drop and yet it's like you’re drunk." she laughed.
"I've had a shitty few days. You've already done a lot to cheer me up."
"I intend to do more." She leaned in and gave Michael a playful nip on the neck.
They walked past the copy shop and reached the corner of College Ave and Draper Road. Seeing no one close by, Michael saw his chance. He darted around the corner, pulling Kris with him. He pinned her against the wall and smothered her mouth with his. She resisted a bit at first, more from surprise than anything else, but relented, relishing the kiss.
He broke off after a few seconds. "That was a pleasant surprise." she half panted.
"I wasn't going to wait any longer to taste those lips of yours."
'You can sample the other pair, if you'd like.'
"Not here, and not now." said Michael politely. He couldn't believe how confident he felt, how alive he felt. Now he understood what Deborah had meant about this being the best way for a vampire to hunt. This was fun. He shoved those thoughts aside to kiss her again, this time not just her lips, but her cheeks, her chin, her neck. And then he struck.
He drank, savoring the taste of her. As he did so, he could feel her weaken in his arms, moving closer and closer to the point of danger. Then, he forced himself away, breaking off. Kris slid down the brick wall to slump on the sidewalk. She was still breathing, but she looked pale, sickly.
Michael leaned down and propped up her legs. A couple of bystanders stopped at the odd scene, concerned, but Michael dismissed their worries with a simple "She just passed out." After a minute or so, Kris came around again.
"You alright?" he asked her. "Kris, can you hear me?"
"Wha...wha...what happened?"
"You fainted. If we hadn't been together, you'd have dropped right onto the pavement."
"I did?" she said, becoming more cognizant of her surroundings. "I didn't have that much to drink. Oh, God, you must think..." Had she not just been drained of a good bit of blood, Michael could imagine her turning beet red in embarrassment. But as it was, the best she could muster was a pale pink.
"Don't worry about that. You just gave me a scare, that's all. Can you stand?"
"I think."
"Maybe you'd best go home. I'll walk you to your dorm."
Kris came to her feet and leaned on Michael. He then guided her carefully over the quarter mile or so from the street corner to Slusher Hall dorm. At the front door, he paused.
"You could still come up?"
Michael had wondered if she'd still offer, but he'd already made up his mind to decline. After all, anticipation could be a powerful aphrodisiac in the right circumstances. He shook his head. "No, but thank you. I think you'd best get some rest, clear your head, sleep this off."
"I'm not this much of a lightweight."
"Maybe you're getting sick. Don't worry, Kris, I'm not going away. The window of opportunity is not going to slam shut on us. I won't let it."
She managed a weak smile in response. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. There's next time."
"When will that be?"
"Soon." he pledged. "Now go, get some rest and recover." He leaned forward and kissed her again. She returned the kiss with as much passion as she could muster. With a wave, he turned and departed.
He headed back to the bar, confident that Deborah had already lured some in some poor sap and was already at work. If it had only taken him this long, an old pro like her would likely be done and waiting for him.
He was not disappointed. Although she was absent the bar, Michael was soon drawn to the sound of two people copulating in the alley behind it. Sure enough, when he turned the corner, he found her astride some frat boy, her skirt hiked up around her waist, furiously riding him. After a few seconds of that, he watched her clamp down on his neck and drink.
She came up after a few seconds and her victim flopped back onto the pavement. She gave him a cursory examination, stood up, pulled down her skirt, and turned around.
“Enjoy the show?” she asked as she walked over.
“I appear to have missed most of it.” He reached up to rub a spot of blood off the side of her mouth. “Missed a bit.” He said, licking the spot off his thumb.
“Did you score?”
“Define score. I’ve fed, but I did not fuck.”
“Oh?”
“Figured it would give me an excuse to go back for seconds.”
Deborah laughed. “Building a harem already? My, you do learn fast. I take it then you did not leave a body behind for someone to find.”
“No.”
“Good.” She said. “Now I’m guessing you have further questions. Now that we have fed, let the lessons continue.”
“I had a coke at the bar.” Interjected Michael. Now that he was sated, he wanted to know about that.
“Did you? Was it the best ever?”
“Seemed that way.”
“I like this bar. It does not water down the drinks, even the non-alcoholic ones.” She commented, “but as you’ve noticed you can still eat and drink like a normal human being. In fact, everything will taste all the better with your enhanced senses.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You gain no sustenance from mortal food. No satisfaction. The only food that satisfies is blood. You body simply will no longer metabolize anything else. It will pass through undigested.”
“Ugh. That doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“No worse than taking a shit or a piss. Look at it this way. There are advantages. You can put down your body weight in booze and not get the least bit drunk. Nice to help you keep you wits about you in settings like these.”
Michael nodded and paused to think. Deborah looked at him patiently.
“More questions.” She discerned.
“You spoke of how mortals outnumber us, that they are a threat to us when massed in numbers. That implies that we are not invulnerable.”
“Not hardly.”
“But the legends make us out to be nearly so. What can kill us?”
“You can probably guess some of the things on the list.”
“Sunlight.”
“Indeed. The rays of the sun burn like fire. Only a very few of the eldest of us can withstand the sun’s gaze for more than a minute or two.”
“What else?”
“What do you know of the legends?”
“Stake through the heart is lethal.”
Deborah shook her head. “If the stake is metal, it’ll hurt a bit. Wood however causes a rigor mortus like paralysis. But neither is lethal.”
“Beheading.”
“That will finish us. As will massive body trauma.”
“Massive body trauma?”
“Hand grenade goes off at point blank range, for example. More often than not, it’ll blow your body to pieces and make you a dead kindred. Likewise, heavy weapons like a big machine gun or cannon. They tend to chew a body up pretty badly.”
“But not lighter guns?”
“Nuisance mostly. An enemy could empty a whole clip of 9 mil at you and do little more than make you mad.”
“So that’s why you wanted me for your little vendetta. Plenty of people here who can shoot. Only a rare few know how to handle a blade.”
Deborah nodded. “Yes. A sword is a far more lethal weapon against a kindred and in the hands of one.”
“So what about crosses?”
“You should be able to answer that. Your necklace?”
"You've touched it, so I'm guessing they have no effect."
"Correct."
“Can’t cross running water.”
“Same.”
“No reflection.”
“Again, a myth.”
“Must be invited inside.”
“More misinformation. Most of the old folklore was made up by our own kind to keep the mortals guessing. Outside of blades, the sun, and the most powerful of modern weapons, there are only two more things you need fear. Fire is our bane also. Avoid it.”
“And the last?”
“The claws and affectations of other mystical creatures.”
“Other? You mean vampires are…”
“…not alone in the night. No. We share the shadows with skinchangers, wizards, ghosts, fae, and maybe a few other things that I’ve never heard of. They are rare like us and keep their secrets as well as we do. But they are at best neutral to us and at worst outright hostile. Be wary when you encounter them.”
“How will I know?”
“Most of the time, you won’t unless they want you to know. Like us, they have their reasons to stay hidden. Although there may be one in our very midst.”
Michael looked around. “Where? Who?”
“Not here. But one of our common acquaintances.” She looked up at Michael. “When a mortal eats chicken, it tastes different than beef.”
“Of course.”
“All humans should taste the same to us as well. Mike Boorman doesn’t.”
“Boar?” said Michael incredulously. “What is he then?”
“I don’t know. There are things about which I know very little and the others in the night is one of those things. But he’s not human, that much I’m certain of.”
“Mitch has got his weird luck. Could that mean anything?”
“Maybe. But he tastes normal.”
“You’ve fucked and fed from both of them, haven’t you?”
“More than that. They are both enthralled to me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“What my sire did to me, I’ve now done to them. They are both compelled to be loyal to me, will obey my commands.”
“So they know what you are?”
“Not at first. They do now.”
“And they were in on this? Making me into a vampire that is.”
“Not exactly." she said. "They were your competition."
"Meaning?"
"I was going to make one of you Kindred. You drew the short straw."
"Did they know that was your plan? Did they know any of this?"
"A little. It is safe for them to know the truth. A bound thrall will never betray you. The power of the blood makes them loyal and affectionate in all things."
“How is that done? Enthralling, that is?”
“Not only can a vampire feed from mortals, but we can be fed from as well. Three tastes of our blood over three separate nights and they are yours. This is useful to us, as many of the things our society requires to function and remain secret are carried out by these thralls.”
“Because for all our powers, we still cannot go about during the daylight.”
“Indeed. We need our thralls to survive.”
“Okay, you said your master enthralled you. So it works on vampires as well?”
“Works on everything, as far as I know. Some kindred are known to enthrall animals for bodyguards and spies. A lucky few have managed to enthrall other supernaturals, although it is said to be difficult. Most thralls are humans. But the most paranoid or controlling kindred will enthrall other vampires, to ensure their loyalty.”
“I fed from you when I was made.”
“That does count. But until you feed twice more from me, you need not worry.”
“How is such a bond broken?”
“Death of the master is the easiest way. But bonds do fade over time if the master and thrall are separated from one another for a long time. And by a long time, I mean decades.”
“So I can move faster than a human, am stronger than a human. I can attract people to me by pure animal charisma. I can make slaves with my blood. I’m vulnerable only to fire, sunlight, and decapitation. What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“The old legends talk about all sorts of powers. Can turn into a bat or wolf. Transform into a mist. Can read thoughts.”
“Appear as whoever you wish. Cast illusions. Control animals. Yes, I know the tales. Hell, most of them as I said were written by us kindred. Some to obfuscate. Others to frighten, to make sure the mortals understand what power we represent.”
“So I can do all these things?”
“You could, with training and age. But only a rare few of us ever exhibit them all. Besides that, you will need a teacher who has mastered the power in order to learn it. You will learn some powers by instinct. Others will need to be taught.”
"How will I know the difference?"
"Kindred are divided into five subspecies we call Clans. Each is given a dark gift unique to itself. You are Daeva, as I am. We are graceful and beautiful and our strength comes from the manipulation of passion and desire. The Mekhet are shadowy and secret, masters of stealth. The Nosferatu are horrid and terrifying and use fear as their weapon. The Gangrel are feral and animalistic, master hunters. Lastly are the Ventrue, lordly and domineering." Deborah paused. “Imagine for a moment, all the predators in nature. Each one is given a skill, an ability, to find, to hunt, and to kill their prey. The spider has its web. A snake its venom. A lion its strength. A hawk its sight. Each of the clans is a predator of humanity and they are given powers appropriate to that role.”
“The ability to hide in plain sight and leave no tracks. The ability to mesmerize prey and attract them to them. The strength and speed to overpower.”
“Indeed. There are many powers and each one makes it easier for you to hunt.”
“That’s all people are to us. Food.” Said Michael grimly.
“Yes and no. We are rational thinking creatures like they. They can be friends, lovers, tools. We can love them, hate them, or care nothing for them. But understand one thing. You are the predator and they are the prey and that will never change.”
“Humanity is not the top of heap after all.”
“They never were. We simply let them think so.”
Michael got a confused look on his face.
“You are wondering how all this can be. Why we exist?”
“All philosophical questions of some depth. I’m not expecting an answer really.” Admitted Michael. “It’s just that I thought I knew how the world worked. Thought I had it figured out.”
“The simple reality is anything but simple. We are alive and yet not. We may behave like other life forms, but we do not breathe, eat, or breed in the same way they do. We have powers that defy the known sciences. By all reckoning, our existence should be an impossibility, and yet we are real. Why do we exist? Again, that is a question best left to philosophers. In some ways, it is no different than it is for humans. Each one of them spends at least some of their time, effort, and thought finding purpose and meaning in their lives. They find it in their careers, in the religions, in patriotism, or any number of other things. We are no different.”
“Are we not?”
“On the surface, no. Some of us turn to faith; Some vampires see themselves as avenging angels placed here by God or as the manifestation of pagan gods angry at being forgotten and neglected. Others hunger for power and prestige. And still others revel in their power and become the ultimate predator, hunting and killing the most difficult and dangerous prey. And then others just try to get by.”
“And you?”
“Am I so difficult to figure out?” said Deborah, stepping away and holding out her arms as if to show off.
“To feed and to fuck.” Said Michael bluntly.
“To have fun. To enjoy myself. Is that so wrong?”
Michael sighed. He was not certain that Deborah was telling him the whole story. “No, but if that’s all you’re after, why the need for a protégé who can fight for you? Did one of your lovers belong to someone else, someone rather jealous and powerful? Or is it something else?”
Deborah assessed him with a sharp glance. “You’re going to be hard to lie to.” She admitted. “Let’s just say some of our kind, much like mortals, feel the need to impose their personal philosophies and lifestyles on others. A life of hedonistic excess is just as frowned upon by some kindred as it is by prudish mortals.”
“And let me guess. Those sorts of kindred are fairly commonplace in the mortal world known as the Bible Belt.”
“As they did as mortals, so now they do as vampires. You learn quickly. That will serve you well.” Deborah stepped forward. “I have some things I must attend to as do you.”
“I do?”
“Yes. For two nights now you have been away from your dorm room. Your roommate will no doubt be growing worried, the sort of worry that attracts attention from the wrong sorts of mortals. Might I suggest a visit to gather your things and to explain that you are moving off-campus. Give him whatever excuse you wish. Can I trust you to be on your own?”
“I can’t imagine I’d be that much trouble. I’ve fed. I’m content.”
“Good. I’ll see you back at the apartment at dawn.”
Act One Chapter Six
“Very funny.” Said Michael, sluggishly. He stepped forward out of the coffin.
At the end of the previous night, Deborah had led Michael back to her apartment and into the walk-in closet. There, she had placed two coffins against the wall, one for each of them. Michael had commented that it seemed rather stereotypical. Deborah’s reply had been that although coffins were not necessary for a vampire to find sleep, they did do a good job of keeping errant sunlight out during their slumber.
“So how are we today, my infant childe?”
“Confused. Bewildered.” Admitted Michael. “Hungry.”
“Normal.” Commented Deborah. “The first two will take time to resolve. The third we can do something about immediately.”
“So, we go forth to kill again?” said Michael, with a sardonic gloom.
“No, tonight you will learn to feed without killing. Come, downtown Blacksburg awaits.”
They left the apartment and wandered down the streets towards Main, where the bulk of the college town’s bars and taverns could be found. In the early evening of this Monday still had the downtown active and alive.
“College town.” Mused Michael. “Even on the first day of the school week, the bars are full.”
“Indeed they are. Makes our job easier. Especially considering…” she let her words trail off as she noticed a police officer coming down the street.
“They found her.”
“No doubt. There will be an increased police presence for a few days, perhaps weeks.”
“Won’t they wonder why there was a body drained of blood?”
“At first, but the press will not print anything about that and those officers assigned to the case will be…modified to forget that little bit.”
“Other kindred?”
“For some things. Mortals held in thrall for others. We have a whole network dedicated to keeping our existence secret from the mortal world. It is our most important law. We call it the Masquerade.”
“Why? If we are so much more powerful than they?”
“There was a time, long ago, when we moved openly and we were justly feared for our power. But as time went on, mortals grew more numerous and more sophisticated. So we withdrew to the shadows, hiding in their midst, convincing them that we are mere legend and folklore, lest they overwhelm us. As powerful as each of us is, we are no match for their numbers. Against one mortal, a kindred will be victor. Against one hundred or more, that’s something else.”
“I understand.”
“Good. This is why we do not kill indiscriminately. No question that a kindred will slip up from time to time and drink too deeply, killing their prey. But we try to avoid such a thing for dead bodies tend to draw suspicion, tend to make mortals fearful. Both make our lives more difficult and more dangerous.”
“So how do I stop myself?”
“By force of will. By the same means you would use as a mortal to not finish a plate of food. Simply setting a stopping point and holding to it.”
“And if I guess wrong?”
“Trust your instincts, but only to a point. Within you is a beast that would ravage the whole world if you let it. It's the monstrous spirit that has taken up residence in your soul. You must learn to master it, control it, or it will control you. Feeding is one of the more dangerous times. But you can tell, if you keep your wits about you, when you are taking your prey close to the point of death. This is your second lesson.”
“How long did it take you to learn it?”
“By my second night, I was feeding without killing. It does not take long to learn.” said Deborah. "One of the few benefits of your first kill is that you fed to satisfaction last night. Keep yourself 'topped off' as it were, and the Beast Within will be easier to manage."
"And how do I do that?"
"Take only a little blood each night from now on. From any one of these clueless mortals you see around you."
“But what if they make a scene? If they struggle? I have to bite. Wouldn’t that hurt?”
“It does for a moment, but then the Kiss kicks in. You remember it from when I fed from you. A feeling of bliss and ecstasy. Only the most willful will still resist you. Such that can are few and far between. As for the wound you leave, your saliva causes it to seal almost instantly. You leave a mark only upon the dead.”
“Convenient.”
“Indeed. Come. Let us see how your irresistible beauty serves you.”
“Is that how I’m to hunt?”
“I think you will find it far more stimulating and pleasurable than simply grabbing people in the dark as a robber might.”
“You want me to seduce someone? Fuck them?”
“If you want. Getting laid each night is a bit of a perk.”
“But what about us?”
Deborah laughed. “You are feeding, hunting, and enjoying it. Why would that bother me? I intend to do the same this night. Now go! It will be easier if they do not think we are together.”
Michael walked in first and looked around. He felt a bit of anxiety as he scanned the crowd. He headed over to the bar slowly, looking around for a potential victim as he did so.
As he approached the bar, it occurred to him that he did not know what would happen were he to consume human food and drink. He knew the legends, the old horror stories. Dracula did not drink...wine. What would happen if he did? After all, he figured that barfing up whatever drink he ordered would not do well for his efforts to appear irresistible to his mark.
He was not entirely sure how his powers worked, but he tried to relax, play it cool, smile. As he did so, he noticed that people’s heads turned. People began to take notice. A few, only those in close proximity. Michael smiled more broadly. This would be easier than he thought.
But as he reached the bar, Michael realized another problem. At age 18, he would be unable to buy a drink. Something non-intoxicating would have to do.
"A coke." he said to the barkeep.
"Not 21, eh?" said a voice nearby.
"Not yet." Michael lamented. He turned to look at the speaker. He was pleasantly surprised to see someone he knew, one of his classmates in the computer science program. She was dressed rather casually with a drink in hand, with dark hair and sharp blue eyes. Michael racked his brain to remember her name.
"Kris, isn't it?"
"Yeah, and you're Michael, one of the freshmen."
"Please don't hold that against me."
"I wasn't planning on it. I'm glad you're here. I always did think you were kinda cute."
"Oh?" remarked a surprised Michael. Was she sincere or were his new-found powers already working their magic? Either way, Michael knew he'd found his mark.
"Yeah. I'd seen you around campus and in the lab, wondering if you were seeing someone."
"Not anymore." said Michael with a grim tone.
Kris frowned. "I'm sorry."
Michael shrugged. "It was bound to happen. I'm here. She's back home. You know how it goes. So, this may be your lucky night. I seem to be on the market."
Kris laughed nervously. Michael's Coke arrived and he somewhat tentatively took a sip from it. It tasted really good, like the best soda he'd ever had. That took him aback a bit.
"Something wrong?"
"No, it's nothing." He took a few more drinks, savoring the flavor. This, he deduced, must be part of the vampire's enhanced senses. Taste was apparently not neglected in that.
At that moment, Deborah made her entrance. And nearly everyone in the bar knew it, as every eye drew towards her. Michael felt a twinge of envy and then a thought crossed his mind. "Soon that'll be me doing that."
"She certainly makes an entrance." quipped Michael.
"Hey, eyes over here." laughed Kris, grabbing Michael's chin and turning his head back to her. "Remember me?"
"Oh, how could I forget?" flirted Michael in return. "Say, interested in finding someplace a little less crowded?"
A sly smile crept across Kris' lips. "Sure."
Michael chugged down the rest of his Coke and headed for the door. Kris fell into step alongside him, hooking one of her arms about his waist. Michael placed his own arm across her shoulders and they headed toward the door together. Michael caught Deborah watching out of the corner of his eye. So far so good.
They headed outside into the cool October night, the evening chill refreshing compared to the heat of the crowded bar. Michael glanced up and down the street. "So where to?"
"I'm going to guess you walked over, so no convenient back seat of your car nearby."
"Aren't we in a hurry? The night is young!" exclaimed Michael, melodramatically. He felt high, like no matter what he said or did tonight, Kris would find it charming and irresistible.
"If you don't mind the walk, my dorm is over in Slusher."
"Lead on."
"You haven't had a drop and yet it's like you’re drunk." she laughed.
"I've had a shitty few days. You've already done a lot to cheer me up."
"I intend to do more." She leaned in and gave Michael a playful nip on the neck.
They walked past the copy shop and reached the corner of College Ave and Draper Road. Seeing no one close by, Michael saw his chance. He darted around the corner, pulling Kris with him. He pinned her against the wall and smothered her mouth with his. She resisted a bit at first, more from surprise than anything else, but relented, relishing the kiss.
He broke off after a few seconds. "That was a pleasant surprise." she half panted.
"I wasn't going to wait any longer to taste those lips of yours."
'You can sample the other pair, if you'd like.'
"Not here, and not now." said Michael politely. He couldn't believe how confident he felt, how alive he felt. Now he understood what Deborah had meant about this being the best way for a vampire to hunt. This was fun. He shoved those thoughts aside to kiss her again, this time not just her lips, but her cheeks, her chin, her neck. And then he struck.
He drank, savoring the taste of her. As he did so, he could feel her weaken in his arms, moving closer and closer to the point of danger. Then, he forced himself away, breaking off. Kris slid down the brick wall to slump on the sidewalk. She was still breathing, but she looked pale, sickly.
Michael leaned down and propped up her legs. A couple of bystanders stopped at the odd scene, concerned, but Michael dismissed their worries with a simple "She just passed out." After a minute or so, Kris came around again.
"You alright?" he asked her. "Kris, can you hear me?"
"Wha...wha...what happened?"
"You fainted. If we hadn't been together, you'd have dropped right onto the pavement."
"I did?" she said, becoming more cognizant of her surroundings. "I didn't have that much to drink. Oh, God, you must think..." Had she not just been drained of a good bit of blood, Michael could imagine her turning beet red in embarrassment. But as it was, the best she could muster was a pale pink.
"Don't worry about that. You just gave me a scare, that's all. Can you stand?"
"I think."
"Maybe you'd best go home. I'll walk you to your dorm."
Kris came to her feet and leaned on Michael. He then guided her carefully over the quarter mile or so from the street corner to Slusher Hall dorm. At the front door, he paused.
"You could still come up?"
Michael had wondered if she'd still offer, but he'd already made up his mind to decline. After all, anticipation could be a powerful aphrodisiac in the right circumstances. He shook his head. "No, but thank you. I think you'd best get some rest, clear your head, sleep this off."
"I'm not this much of a lightweight."
"Maybe you're getting sick. Don't worry, Kris, I'm not going away. The window of opportunity is not going to slam shut on us. I won't let it."
She managed a weak smile in response. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. There's next time."
"When will that be?"
"Soon." he pledged. "Now go, get some rest and recover." He leaned forward and kissed her again. She returned the kiss with as much passion as she could muster. With a wave, he turned and departed.
He headed back to the bar, confident that Deborah had already lured some in some poor sap and was already at work. If it had only taken him this long, an old pro like her would likely be done and waiting for him.
He was not disappointed. Although she was absent the bar, Michael was soon drawn to the sound of two people copulating in the alley behind it. Sure enough, when he turned the corner, he found her astride some frat boy, her skirt hiked up around her waist, furiously riding him. After a few seconds of that, he watched her clamp down on his neck and drink.
She came up after a few seconds and her victim flopped back onto the pavement. She gave him a cursory examination, stood up, pulled down her skirt, and turned around.
“Enjoy the show?” she asked as she walked over.
“I appear to have missed most of it.” He reached up to rub a spot of blood off the side of her mouth. “Missed a bit.” He said, licking the spot off his thumb.
“Did you score?”
“Define score. I’ve fed, but I did not fuck.”
“Oh?”
“Figured it would give me an excuse to go back for seconds.”
Deborah laughed. “Building a harem already? My, you do learn fast. I take it then you did not leave a body behind for someone to find.”
“No.”
“Good.” She said. “Now I’m guessing you have further questions. Now that we have fed, let the lessons continue.”
“I had a coke at the bar.” Interjected Michael. Now that he was sated, he wanted to know about that.
“Did you? Was it the best ever?”
“Seemed that way.”
“I like this bar. It does not water down the drinks, even the non-alcoholic ones.” She commented, “but as you’ve noticed you can still eat and drink like a normal human being. In fact, everything will taste all the better with your enhanced senses.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You gain no sustenance from mortal food. No satisfaction. The only food that satisfies is blood. You body simply will no longer metabolize anything else. It will pass through undigested.”
“Ugh. That doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“No worse than taking a shit or a piss. Look at it this way. There are advantages. You can put down your body weight in booze and not get the least bit drunk. Nice to help you keep you wits about you in settings like these.”
Michael nodded and paused to think. Deborah looked at him patiently.
“More questions.” She discerned.
“You spoke of how mortals outnumber us, that they are a threat to us when massed in numbers. That implies that we are not invulnerable.”
“Not hardly.”
“But the legends make us out to be nearly so. What can kill us?”
“You can probably guess some of the things on the list.”
“Sunlight.”
“Indeed. The rays of the sun burn like fire. Only a very few of the eldest of us can withstand the sun’s gaze for more than a minute or two.”
“What else?”
“What do you know of the legends?”
“Stake through the heart is lethal.”
Deborah shook her head. “If the stake is metal, it’ll hurt a bit. Wood however causes a rigor mortus like paralysis. But neither is lethal.”
“Beheading.”
“That will finish us. As will massive body trauma.”
“Massive body trauma?”
“Hand grenade goes off at point blank range, for example. More often than not, it’ll blow your body to pieces and make you a dead kindred. Likewise, heavy weapons like a big machine gun or cannon. They tend to chew a body up pretty badly.”
“But not lighter guns?”
“Nuisance mostly. An enemy could empty a whole clip of 9 mil at you and do little more than make you mad.”
“So that’s why you wanted me for your little vendetta. Plenty of people here who can shoot. Only a rare few know how to handle a blade.”
Deborah nodded. “Yes. A sword is a far more lethal weapon against a kindred and in the hands of one.”
“So what about crosses?”
“You should be able to answer that. Your necklace?”
"You've touched it, so I'm guessing they have no effect."
"Correct."
“Can’t cross running water.”
“Same.”
“No reflection.”
“Again, a myth.”
“Must be invited inside.”
“More misinformation. Most of the old folklore was made up by our own kind to keep the mortals guessing. Outside of blades, the sun, and the most powerful of modern weapons, there are only two more things you need fear. Fire is our bane also. Avoid it.”
“And the last?”
“The claws and affectations of other mystical creatures.”
“Other? You mean vampires are…”
“…not alone in the night. No. We share the shadows with skinchangers, wizards, ghosts, fae, and maybe a few other things that I’ve never heard of. They are rare like us and keep their secrets as well as we do. But they are at best neutral to us and at worst outright hostile. Be wary when you encounter them.”
“How will I know?”
“Most of the time, you won’t unless they want you to know. Like us, they have their reasons to stay hidden. Although there may be one in our very midst.”
Michael looked around. “Where? Who?”
“Not here. But one of our common acquaintances.” She looked up at Michael. “When a mortal eats chicken, it tastes different than beef.”
“Of course.”
“All humans should taste the same to us as well. Mike Boorman doesn’t.”
“Boar?” said Michael incredulously. “What is he then?”
“I don’t know. There are things about which I know very little and the others in the night is one of those things. But he’s not human, that much I’m certain of.”
“Mitch has got his weird luck. Could that mean anything?”
“Maybe. But he tastes normal.”
“You’ve fucked and fed from both of them, haven’t you?”
“More than that. They are both enthralled to me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“What my sire did to me, I’ve now done to them. They are both compelled to be loyal to me, will obey my commands.”
“So they know what you are?”
“Not at first. They do now.”
“And they were in on this? Making me into a vampire that is.”
“Not exactly." she said. "They were your competition."
"Meaning?"
"I was going to make one of you Kindred. You drew the short straw."
"Did they know that was your plan? Did they know any of this?"
"A little. It is safe for them to know the truth. A bound thrall will never betray you. The power of the blood makes them loyal and affectionate in all things."
“How is that done? Enthralling, that is?”
“Not only can a vampire feed from mortals, but we can be fed from as well. Three tastes of our blood over three separate nights and they are yours. This is useful to us, as many of the things our society requires to function and remain secret are carried out by these thralls.”
“Because for all our powers, we still cannot go about during the daylight.”
“Indeed. We need our thralls to survive.”
“Okay, you said your master enthralled you. So it works on vampires as well?”
“Works on everything, as far as I know. Some kindred are known to enthrall animals for bodyguards and spies. A lucky few have managed to enthrall other supernaturals, although it is said to be difficult. Most thralls are humans. But the most paranoid or controlling kindred will enthrall other vampires, to ensure their loyalty.”
“I fed from you when I was made.”
“That does count. But until you feed twice more from me, you need not worry.”
“How is such a bond broken?”
“Death of the master is the easiest way. But bonds do fade over time if the master and thrall are separated from one another for a long time. And by a long time, I mean decades.”
“So I can move faster than a human, am stronger than a human. I can attract people to me by pure animal charisma. I can make slaves with my blood. I’m vulnerable only to fire, sunlight, and decapitation. What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“The old legends talk about all sorts of powers. Can turn into a bat or wolf. Transform into a mist. Can read thoughts.”
“Appear as whoever you wish. Cast illusions. Control animals. Yes, I know the tales. Hell, most of them as I said were written by us kindred. Some to obfuscate. Others to frighten, to make sure the mortals understand what power we represent.”
“So I can do all these things?”
“You could, with training and age. But only a rare few of us ever exhibit them all. Besides that, you will need a teacher who has mastered the power in order to learn it. You will learn some powers by instinct. Others will need to be taught.”
"How will I know the difference?"
"Kindred are divided into five subspecies we call Clans. Each is given a dark gift unique to itself. You are Daeva, as I am. We are graceful and beautiful and our strength comes from the manipulation of passion and desire. The Mekhet are shadowy and secret, masters of stealth. The Nosferatu are horrid and terrifying and use fear as their weapon. The Gangrel are feral and animalistic, master hunters. Lastly are the Ventrue, lordly and domineering." Deborah paused. “Imagine for a moment, all the predators in nature. Each one is given a skill, an ability, to find, to hunt, and to kill their prey. The spider has its web. A snake its venom. A lion its strength. A hawk its sight. Each of the clans is a predator of humanity and they are given powers appropriate to that role.”
“The ability to hide in plain sight and leave no tracks. The ability to mesmerize prey and attract them to them. The strength and speed to overpower.”
“Indeed. There are many powers and each one makes it easier for you to hunt.”
“That’s all people are to us. Food.” Said Michael grimly.
“Yes and no. We are rational thinking creatures like they. They can be friends, lovers, tools. We can love them, hate them, or care nothing for them. But understand one thing. You are the predator and they are the prey and that will never change.”
“Humanity is not the top of heap after all.”
“They never were. We simply let them think so.”
Michael got a confused look on his face.
“You are wondering how all this can be. Why we exist?”
“All philosophical questions of some depth. I’m not expecting an answer really.” Admitted Michael. “It’s just that I thought I knew how the world worked. Thought I had it figured out.”
“The simple reality is anything but simple. We are alive and yet not. We may behave like other life forms, but we do not breathe, eat, or breed in the same way they do. We have powers that defy the known sciences. By all reckoning, our existence should be an impossibility, and yet we are real. Why do we exist? Again, that is a question best left to philosophers. In some ways, it is no different than it is for humans. Each one of them spends at least some of their time, effort, and thought finding purpose and meaning in their lives. They find it in their careers, in the religions, in patriotism, or any number of other things. We are no different.”
“Are we not?”
“On the surface, no. Some of us turn to faith; Some vampires see themselves as avenging angels placed here by God or as the manifestation of pagan gods angry at being forgotten and neglected. Others hunger for power and prestige. And still others revel in their power and become the ultimate predator, hunting and killing the most difficult and dangerous prey. And then others just try to get by.”
“And you?”
“Am I so difficult to figure out?” said Deborah, stepping away and holding out her arms as if to show off.
“To feed and to fuck.” Said Michael bluntly.
“To have fun. To enjoy myself. Is that so wrong?”
Michael sighed. He was not certain that Deborah was telling him the whole story. “No, but if that’s all you’re after, why the need for a protégé who can fight for you? Did one of your lovers belong to someone else, someone rather jealous and powerful? Or is it something else?”
Deborah assessed him with a sharp glance. “You’re going to be hard to lie to.” She admitted. “Let’s just say some of our kind, much like mortals, feel the need to impose their personal philosophies and lifestyles on others. A life of hedonistic excess is just as frowned upon by some kindred as it is by prudish mortals.”
“And let me guess. Those sorts of kindred are fairly commonplace in the mortal world known as the Bible Belt.”
“As they did as mortals, so now they do as vampires. You learn quickly. That will serve you well.” Deborah stepped forward. “I have some things I must attend to as do you.”
“I do?”
“Yes. For two nights now you have been away from your dorm room. Your roommate will no doubt be growing worried, the sort of worry that attracts attention from the wrong sorts of mortals. Might I suggest a visit to gather your things and to explain that you are moving off-campus. Give him whatever excuse you wish. Can I trust you to be on your own?”
“I can’t imagine I’d be that much trouble. I’ve fed. I’m content.”
“Good. I’ll see you back at the apartment at dawn.”
Act One Chapter Six
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Act One Chapter Four - Bloodletting
Michael’s alarm blared loudly, violently driving away the bliss of dreamless sleep. He propped himself up to see the time. 8:00am. His first class would be in an hour. Or would it? What day was it?
He rolled over and the memories of the previous 24 hours came flooding back with a vengeance: the letter, Karl’s “broke up” comment in the Shadowrun game, the phone conversation with Rebecca’s accusations and her confession, the long walk around the dark campus, and….
The final memory sent a shudder through him. Had that really happened? Had he truly forced himself upon Deborah? Had he really raped her? But why did it seem that she didn’t mind? What was it that she’d said? “Do it? Do to me what you’d do to her?” or something like that. Was that consent?
Even if it was, or had started out as such, he knew she could make an accusation stick. He’d been rough, vented all his anger and frustration onto her petite form. No doubt she was battered and bruised. Had he come inside her? That would be more evidence. And on top of that, she might conceive.
“You got back late. Everything all right?” It was Corwin.
Michael tried once more to bury his confusion, but now with his fears, it was even more futile that before. Still, he was able to muster an answer. “No.” he said truthfully.
“Look, I’m sorry about Rebecca.”
“As a lot of people told me, it was bound to happen. How went the game?”
“Good. We found Mal in the end. Got loot. Got experience. I’m not sure Shadowrun is for me, but I might be convinced to play again sometime.”
“Cool.” Michael sat up on his loft and began to slowly climb down. His body hurt, partly he knew from his lack of sleep, but some he suspected was the after effects of what he’d done to Deborah. “I’m going to get a shower.”
Corwin returned to whatever he was doing and Michael gathered up his things. He headed down the hall to the dorm showers, hoping the cold water would help clear his head. It did, and as he stood there under it, his perspective drew into sharp focus. There was no changing what had happened. If Deborah chose to press charges, she was certainly within her rights, and he knew they could throw the book at him.
Once again, his thoughts drifted to suicide, now with the added incentive of guilt. Now he began to dwell on logistics. If he were to do it, how? A gun? He didn’t have one of those. Pills? Nothing in his personal medical stash was lethal, although he was certain he could make himself quite sick by overdosing on them. Jump off a cliff? Where was one? A building maybe? Slusher Tower perhaps? But how would he get inside without being noticed. The top of Burruss Hall? Same problem.
Michael was getting frustrated with himself. Most of these problems could be overcome, but he was too cowardly to try. He turned off the shower, dried off, got dressed, and returned to his dorm.
Despite the cold shower, his physical exhaustion soon overcame him, and Michael simply crawled back into his bed and fell asleep again. Some hours later, he was awoken by someone pounding at his door. Abject terror seized him, but then he heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, Michael, you in there?” It was Boar.
“One moment.” Michael climbed down and let him in. Mitch was with him.
“Hey, how you doing? I heard…uh….” Said Boar. “your girl dumped you. Mitch told me.”
Michael nodded grimly. He found it odd that losing Rebecca now seemed the least of the weights upon his heart.
“You need a distraction.” Offered Mitch.
“Last night’s game was meant to be one.” Reminded Michael. “I left early, remember?”
“You may be a game geek, Michael, but a role-playing game is hardly a fitting distraction. Gives you too much time to think.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Swords, armor, and the three of us going up to the Roanoke SCA meeting to bust some heads.”
“They’d let us do that?”
“Sure, I know the people up there. Practice with them all the time over the summer when the Tech group is on hiatus. Come on, get your stuff. Just imagine each of your opponents as the guy who stole Rebecca from you.”
“That might be dangerous.” Said Mitch. “But try not to do it when I’m your opponent.”
----
Michael had fought the fiercest he ever had. After only a few hours, the Roanoke group asked them to leave, he’d been so rough. Michael didn’t care. It felt good to vent his anger and frustration.
They killed a few more hours at the Valley View Mall, looking for anime videos for Mitch’s collection. They found several and Mitch made some purchases.
“Got lucky on tips the other night.” He offered.
“Lucky again.” Observed Boar.
“Say, laughter is the best medicine. A few eps of Ranma ought to help cheer our friend here.” Mitch replied. “But I’d avoid Orange Road.”
“Sure, I suppose. Just so long as I can drink.” Said Boar. “As always, Michael, you’re welcome to the stash.”
“You may regret that invitation, Boar.” Said Michael glumly.
----
Back at Boar’s apartment, Mitch set out to show off some of his anime. The Ranma series he spoke of was something of a martial arts comedy, and Michael admitted that had he been in a better mood, he might have enjoyed it more. But his mind returned to its grim thoughts.
“Here. If you’re not going to watch with him, then drink with me.” Said Boar, offering a glass filled with a tea-colored concoction.
“What’s this?”
“Something I think you’ll like. Got enough booze to kick your ass.”
“I think my ass has been well and goodly kicked already. What’s it called?”
“Long Island Iced Tea. Just remember, there isn’t any tea in it.”
Michael took a chug and the alcohol hit him like a ton of bricks. But he had to admit he liked the flavor. “Woah.” He said.
“Hey, Mitchie, I think he likes it.”
“So, the plan is now to get me blitzed?”
“Something’s got to break you out of this funk.”
“You might find it to be not so easy.” Said Michael. “I got blue balled at Homecoming and moped around for two weeks. This is far worse.”
“So that’s what had you so quiet after you got back from your trip. Well, I think I know just the solution.”
Michael felt a surge of fear. “What are you doing?” he asked timidly.
“You just drink.” Said Boar as he darted into the kitchen.
“I do not want to see her.” Said Michael.
“If not Deb, then who? I’m sure we can find someone else.” Mitch half spoke to Michael and half to Boar in the other room.
“Yeah, I think we can give him quite a selection.” Came the reply. “Party time!”
Michael kept to his drink and it was not long before folks started showing up. Many of them were SCA people that he knew from the club and a few others from his role-playing group like Karl and Geoffrey. But there were also girls: blondes, brunettes, fat, thin, short, and tall.
The apartment began to fill with party guests, but Michael kept to himself, sitting on a corner of the sofa and nursing his 3rd (or was it 4th?) Long Island. He was quite drunk.
One of the girls bounced over to Boar, a giggly buxom brunette. “So, Boar, what’s the occasion?”
Boar motioned towards Michael. “You see the sullen one over there. We’re trying to cheer him up.”
“He’s kinda cute. Why does he need cheering up?”
“Got dumped.”
“I think I know what to do.” She sauntered over to Michael.
Michael gave her an indifferent glance as she came over. “Hi, my name is Kaylie. And you are?”
“Drunk.” Said Michael honestly. His speech was well-slurred.
“My favorite kind.” She slid up next to him.
“I think this one’s more my type.” Said another voice.
Michael stood up straight with a start, his glass dropping to the floor. From behind Kaylie came Deborah.
“Deb.” Said Michael. Any sign that he was inebriated was gone in an instant.
“So, let’s talk. Come with me.” Her tone was forceful, but not hostile.
“Ok.” Said Michael meekly. He followed her outside on to the very lawn where she’d first propositioned him nearly two months earlier.
Deborah lit a cigarette and kicked off her shoes. She walked around in the grass. “You’re taking all this awfully hard.”
Michael stared at her in disbelief. He’d been expecting an accusation, an insult, a slap in the face. Anything but a comment of concern about his break-up.
“I guess last night wasn’t enough." she continued. "I suppose part of that was because you ran off so soon…”
“Ok, I must be more drunk than I thought. I'm remembering last night a whole lot differently than you are.”
“Oh, and what do you remember?”
“I…” the words were difficult to come by. “…forced myself on you.”
“No, you didn’t.” corrected Deborah.
“Excuse me?”
“I gave you what I thought you needed, a chance to vent your anger, your frustration.” Continued Deborah. “The fact that I finally got fucked by you is just a bonus. I came back tonight for more, if you’re interested.”
“I must be losing my mind. I know what I did.”
“You did precisely what I wanted you to do.”
“I thought I hurt you.”
“I can assure you that I’ve had far rougher than you. Trust me, darling, you’re not capable of hurting me, not that way. I asked you to do it, don’t you remember? Do to me what you want to do to her? I did say that and you followed through.”
“It was all a setup?”
“Of sorts.”
Michael let out a sigh of relief. “I thought I was in so much trouble. I thought…”
Deborah cut him off. “Now, be honest. You liked it?”
Michael shook his head. “Not like that.”
“Then how?”
“Gentle, loving. The way it should be.”
“Like this?” She walked over, stood on her tip toes and kissed him. She broke off the kiss quickly and he nodded. “Remember how I said I knew you? I stand by that. You’re not a hard read, Michael Allens. This,” she gave his cheek a gentle caress, “is both what you offer and desire. But so many either can’t see it or have openly rejected it.”
“But not you.” Observed Michael. “No, I did the rejecting. You offered both affection and opportunity and I spat in your face. You even let me do what I did last night without a bit of anger or bitterness. I seems no matter how hard I try, I fail…at everything.”
“Not tonight you don’t. Come with me. Let me drive away all those bitter thoughts. Let me offer you something you can barely imagine.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.
Like a dog on a leash, Michael let her lead him down to the parking lot and to her car.
----
Michael tossed aside the covers and walked over to the window. Outside all was silence. At nearly 4am, even the college town that was Blacksburg was subdued. He looked back at the bed and saw Deborah’s nude form lying there peacefully. He shook his head, amazed at the events of the past two days.
He returned to the window and dwelt on those thoughts. His contemplations were interrupted by Deborah. “A penny for your thoughts?” she said. He jumped, startled, since he had thought her deep asleep. “Sorry.” She added.
“Should I sell them so cheaply?” he mused. “Given all that’s happened lately, I suppose that’s the best deal I could get.” His tone was grim. Deborah made no comment.
He walked back over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “These past few hours have been incredible, unbelievable. You, this, us. But what happens now? The hole inside me is still there, and as much as I love being with you, you’re still not her. Nothing’s changed. And lust is a poor substitution for love.”
“So what does happen now?” asked Deborah. “What do you want?”
“What I wanted most in life. And now it is what I cannot have. So now I wonder. I’ve been wondering about it for almost two days. Is my life over? Should I just, you know, put a gun to my head and kill the pain, end this farce that my life has become?” He looked at her intently. “You may regret asking what I’m thinking.”
She shook her head. “No, you’ve said nothing that’s surprised or shocked me. But let’s be honest. You’re not the one you really want to kill.”
Michael felt a twinge of anger and slowly nodded. “That little prick Shawn. His punk brother. Oh, if I let myself go…” he paused, as if dwelling on the thought.
“And Rebecca herself?” added Deborah. “Others may have offered the thirty pieces of silver, but she’s the one who took them. She’s the one that betrayed you.”
Michael shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. Not even now.”
“The line between love and hate is thin indeed, and she has crossed it. You offer your loyalty and honor to one who has proven herself utterly unworthy of it. She’s no different than the men you mentioned. And you know it.” Deborah’s tone was both harsh and compassionate at the same time, a tone of truth-telling.
“So what would you have me do? Kill them? Are you for real?”
“What’s stopping you?”
“You have to ask?”
“It’s what you want.”
“Life in prison? No, thanks.”
“What does it matter anymore?” said Deborah. “You said yourself you wanted to die, wanted to commit suicide. Why not take a few with you?”
“You’re out of your mind.” Yelled Michael, jumping to his feet. “You’re serious.”
Deborah paused for a moment. “What if I told you I could give you what you wanted?”
“So what are you, Deborah? The criminal underworld boss of Blacksburg?” mocked Michael incredulously. “You going to send some thugs to do them in?”
“No, not criminal. Something more. Allow me to demonstrate. Some light perhaps, will make this easier. Sit, let me show you something.”
Michael sat back down and expected Deborah to turn on the lamp on the bed stand. Instead, the overhead light flashed on. Deborah was standing by the door.
Michael nearly jumped out of his skin. “What the…How did…”
“Get across the room so quickly. I walked. But that’s not all I can do.” She walked back over slowly and held up her left hand. “Let’s see. Perhaps two fingers will be enough.” She held up two fingers and hooked them under the foot of the bed. Then, effortlessly, she lifted the foot of the bed, with Michael still sitting on it, off the floor.
That was too much for Michael. Fear gripped him and he rolled off the bed and dashed for the door, heedless of all else save the need to get out of that apartment.
Deborah was in his path before he could even reach the bedroom door. “You planning to leave without even your clothes?”
Michael stopped and skidded on the tile floor. His legs went out from under him and he landed hard on his rear. “What are you?” he stuttered out.
“Calm yourself.” She said. “If I’d wanted you dead, you would be. I’ve at least five times your strength and speed. In response to your question, I was once human. Just like you. But now, I’m something more.”
Michael just stared at her and said nothing, his breathing heavy from terror. Deborah knelt down. “I could give you this. Make you like me.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You would have to cut all ties to your previous life: Parents, siblings, friends. You would be forever denied the warmth of the sun. And you would have to hunt, each night, for human blood.”
“You’re a vampire.” Michael could hardly believe what he was saying, but what he had just witnessed was undeniable.
“That is what the old legends call my kind. We prefer the term “Kindred”, but yes. That is what I am. And that is what you could be, if you accept my offer.”
Michael stood up, still shivering in fear, but he seemed to have control of himself. “You wouldn’t be offering this out of the goodness of your heart. To make me a monster like you. What’s the real reason?”
“I need your help. Someone with your skills, to help me defeat one of my enemies.”
“So I’m to be cannon fodder in some sort of vampire war?”
“No, but a soldier, yes. If I’d wanted cannon fodder I’d have picked some poor soul at random from the crowd. But you, with what you’ve learned through the SCA about sword play and your martial arts, you are far more than fodder. Far more useful.” She paused to let it sink in for a moment. “The deal is simple. You help rid me of my enemy, and I’ll help you gain revenge on yours.”
“And kill them?”
“If you want. Kill them, ruin them, drive them mad, whatever you wish. Leave them alive perhaps with the ruins of what they could have been,” offered Deborah, “just as they did you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“The door is behind me.”
“What’s to stop me from telling others what you really are?”
“For one, who would believe you? And two, if you do, I will kill you. And don’t think for a second you’ll escape me. Just as my strength and speed are enhanced beyond human norms, so too are my senses. Wherever you go, I can track you. You will never escape me.” She looked at him with a gaze as hard as stone. “You already know this. I found you last night. I’ve found you every time I’ve wanted.”
“So that’s what this is all about? From day one, you’ve not been wanted to fuck me, you’ve been wanting to recruit me.”
“The fucking is an added bonus. I said we have enhanced senses, including touch. Makes the pleasure all the greater.” She smiled. “Oh, and on that note, you should probably consider in your deliberations another vampiric gift that I’ve not yet mentioned. One you have already seen at work, although likely didn’t know it.”
“Your beauty.”
“More than beauty. The ability to walk into a room and have every eye turn to you. To make every person there want to be you or with you. To make every dick harden and every pussy wet just by your very presence. You felt it, I know you did. You wanted me from the moment you laid eyes on me. In fact, I’m actually pretty impressed you resisted as long as you did.”
“So maybe being such a ‘Churchboy’ wasn’t a bad thing after all? It made me more interesting.”
“Indeed. The hunt was all the sweeter.”
Michael thought for a moment. “I could use this power on Rebecca?”
“Oh, certainly. Have what you always denied yourself before. Have her gushing between the legs just by you walking in the door, begging to go down on you. You could have your way with her, do whatever you like, before you deliver whatever coupe de grace you have in mind.”
“And all I need do is kill this enemy of yours?”
“Help me kill him, yes.”
“Then I accept. Make me like you.”
Deborah nodded. “I warn you. This will hurt a bit.” Then faster than he could see, she was on him. Her weight knocked him back to the floor and he skidded several feet. He felt a sharp pain in his neck. Fear grabbed him again, but only for a moment. It vanished and was replaced with a sense of peace and pleasure.
“What you are feeling,” said Deborah, pausing from her feast, her face now covered in blood, “is what we call the Kiss. It will make your future victims far more pliable.” She dove in again. Michael gave no resistance.
After a few seconds, she came up again. “You have now drained to the point of death. If I do nothing else, you will die.” She sat back. “So how much do you trust me, Michael?”
Weak and barely conscious, Michael could do little more than reach out, as if to grab her. “Very well.” She said, cutting her wrist with her fingernail and making it bleed. “Drink and join our world.”
The first drop that hit his tongue seemed to invigorate him. He sat up and grabbed her arm, placing his mouth on her wound and sucking at the blood there. Deborah twitched herself, as if in pain, but she held on for a few seconds, yanking away when it became unbearable.
“I had forgotten that it hurts.” She said to herself, grabbing and squeezing at her arm as if to staunch her own pain. Michael convulsed once and then lay still.
After a time, several minutes, he convulsed again and sat up. “Is it done?”
“Indeed. Welcome to your new life.”
“This was done to you?”
Deborah nodded.
“When?”
“It was 1949, in San Francisco. My mother was a Chinese prostitute. My father some drunken Irish sailor who didn’t pull out in time.”
“You’re half-Chinese? That explains…”
“My exotic good looks?” said Deborah with a quirky smile. “Yes. As they say in the old days, when I had my flowering, I was put to work in my mother’s brother. I was given my tattoo and turned tricks just like everyone else. And then, she came. I’d never been with a woman before, but she was not just a woman. She was kindred and was looking for a toy for her amusement. She chose me, made me into what I am now. She kept me for a time, years really, decades. We would travel from city to city, until I found a liberator to set me free from her.”
“You had her killed?”
“It was the only way. Once on my own, I came to Virginia. Made a name for myself in Roanoke. And I’ve been here ever since. And now, I have a pet of my own. But unlike my maker did with me, I will not hold you in thrall. We are friends and lovers. And for the time being, united in common purpose. But when those purposes are ended, you may go or stay as you wish.”
“But not before?”
“That would be unwise. You are a babe in arms, or the equivalent thereof. You know nothing of us, how we live, how we survive, how our society is structured. I will teach you these things. But without me, you would be just as doomed as if I had abandoned you drained of your blood on floor a minute ago.”
Michael nodded. He rubbed his belly pensively.
“It’s begun, hasn’t it? The hunger. You will never be rid of it completely. However, you are newly made and it is worst in that moment. We must hunt. So begins your first lesson. Come, get your clothes. It is late but I’m sure we can find some morsel on the streets tonight.”
“Dawn will be in a few hours.”
“Yes, and we must be back under shadow before it arrives. Hurry.”
----
“Pickings will be slim this late. But it’s not difficult in a college town to know where to look.” Said Deborah as they walked down the street from her apartment towards downtown Blacksburg.
“At 4:30am, there are only two places open.”
“Indeed, both within a short walk of here. The donut shop and 7-11. Tell me. Which is the better choice tonight?”
Michael sniffed the air as a hound might. His mind flooded with scents he’d never experienced before. It was overwhelming.
“Your mind will adapt to your enhanced senses with time. Right now, it’ll be hard to discern anything by scent, since that takes practice. But in the quiet of this night, try a different tact. Use your hearing.”
Michael did so. There was little background noise to distract him. But he could still hear a great deal. The sound of the donut machine running a block away inside the shop. A car coming down Main Street two blocks further. And the sound of breathing as a night owl student made his or her way towards the 7-11 convenience store.
“The 7-11.”
Deborah turned her head as if to listen as well. She sniffed the air. “Yes, very good. And she’s drunk to boot. So much the better.”
When Deborah and Michael arrived, their quarry had already gone inside. She was young, perhaps a freshman, and seemed a bit tipsy. She was alone, apparently on a snack run after a late night drinking binge. The only other soul in sight was the store clerk.
“So, how do we take her?” asked Deborah.
“Given the time, wouldn’t brute force be best?”
Deborah nodded. “But no witnesses. Make sure the clerk sees nothing.”
Michael looked around. Near the edge of the store parking lot was a brick half-wall. A perfect place to hide. He gestured towards it and moved to hide. Deborah remained behind.
When the girl came out of the store, she made her way towards the half-wall, unaware of what lay in wait. When she passed from the lighted parking lot into the shadows, Michael struck. Fast as lightning, he leaped out from behind the wall and grabbed the girl, dragging her back with barely a struggle.
Deborah stood up and walked over. When she arrived, Michael had finished. Deborah leaned down and checked the girl. “Dead.” She observed. “Almost always happens with the first feeding.”
Michael jumped back as if bitten. “What? I killed her?”
Deborah nodded. “You’ll get used to it. Killing will soon become less of a moral quandary and more of a practical one.”
"You let her die? You let me kill her." said Michael with a shocked anger.
Deborah picked up the limp corpse, carried it over to a nearby dumpster, and tossed it inside. He looked at her incredulously.
“This isn’t…” began Michael.
“Isn’t what? A bit late for second thoughts now.” Said Deborah fiercely. “You have been reborn to darkness. The choice is now your life or theirs. This is your first lesson, Michael. You are now a predator, a killer. That is a simple fact.”
“So that is to be my life now? To kill indiscriminately?”
“You will find your unlife short indeed were you to do so. No, there are certain realities. I want those to become clear to you, before I show you how to temper your new bestial nature.” Deborah glanced towards the horizon. “Come, there are many nights ahead for these lessons. I am weary and the sun will soon be upon us.”
Act One Chapter Five
He rolled over and the memories of the previous 24 hours came flooding back with a vengeance: the letter, Karl’s “broke up” comment in the Shadowrun game, the phone conversation with Rebecca’s accusations and her confession, the long walk around the dark campus, and….
The final memory sent a shudder through him. Had that really happened? Had he truly forced himself upon Deborah? Had he really raped her? But why did it seem that she didn’t mind? What was it that she’d said? “Do it? Do to me what you’d do to her?” or something like that. Was that consent?
Even if it was, or had started out as such, he knew she could make an accusation stick. He’d been rough, vented all his anger and frustration onto her petite form. No doubt she was battered and bruised. Had he come inside her? That would be more evidence. And on top of that, she might conceive.
“You got back late. Everything all right?” It was Corwin.
Michael tried once more to bury his confusion, but now with his fears, it was even more futile that before. Still, he was able to muster an answer. “No.” he said truthfully.
“Look, I’m sorry about Rebecca.”
“As a lot of people told me, it was bound to happen. How went the game?”
“Good. We found Mal in the end. Got loot. Got experience. I’m not sure Shadowrun is for me, but I might be convinced to play again sometime.”
“Cool.” Michael sat up on his loft and began to slowly climb down. His body hurt, partly he knew from his lack of sleep, but some he suspected was the after effects of what he’d done to Deborah. “I’m going to get a shower.”
Corwin returned to whatever he was doing and Michael gathered up his things. He headed down the hall to the dorm showers, hoping the cold water would help clear his head. It did, and as he stood there under it, his perspective drew into sharp focus. There was no changing what had happened. If Deborah chose to press charges, she was certainly within her rights, and he knew they could throw the book at him.
Once again, his thoughts drifted to suicide, now with the added incentive of guilt. Now he began to dwell on logistics. If he were to do it, how? A gun? He didn’t have one of those. Pills? Nothing in his personal medical stash was lethal, although he was certain he could make himself quite sick by overdosing on them. Jump off a cliff? Where was one? A building maybe? Slusher Tower perhaps? But how would he get inside without being noticed. The top of Burruss Hall? Same problem.
Michael was getting frustrated with himself. Most of these problems could be overcome, but he was too cowardly to try. He turned off the shower, dried off, got dressed, and returned to his dorm.
Despite the cold shower, his physical exhaustion soon overcame him, and Michael simply crawled back into his bed and fell asleep again. Some hours later, he was awoken by someone pounding at his door. Abject terror seized him, but then he heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, Michael, you in there?” It was Boar.
“One moment.” Michael climbed down and let him in. Mitch was with him.
“Hey, how you doing? I heard…uh….” Said Boar. “your girl dumped you. Mitch told me.”
Michael nodded grimly. He found it odd that losing Rebecca now seemed the least of the weights upon his heart.
“You need a distraction.” Offered Mitch.
“Last night’s game was meant to be one.” Reminded Michael. “I left early, remember?”
“You may be a game geek, Michael, but a role-playing game is hardly a fitting distraction. Gives you too much time to think.”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“Swords, armor, and the three of us going up to the Roanoke SCA meeting to bust some heads.”
“They’d let us do that?”
“Sure, I know the people up there. Practice with them all the time over the summer when the Tech group is on hiatus. Come on, get your stuff. Just imagine each of your opponents as the guy who stole Rebecca from you.”
“That might be dangerous.” Said Mitch. “But try not to do it when I’m your opponent.”
----
Michael had fought the fiercest he ever had. After only a few hours, the Roanoke group asked them to leave, he’d been so rough. Michael didn’t care. It felt good to vent his anger and frustration.
They killed a few more hours at the Valley View Mall, looking for anime videos for Mitch’s collection. They found several and Mitch made some purchases.
“Got lucky on tips the other night.” He offered.
“Lucky again.” Observed Boar.
“Say, laughter is the best medicine. A few eps of Ranma ought to help cheer our friend here.” Mitch replied. “But I’d avoid Orange Road.”
“Sure, I suppose. Just so long as I can drink.” Said Boar. “As always, Michael, you’re welcome to the stash.”
“You may regret that invitation, Boar.” Said Michael glumly.
----
Back at Boar’s apartment, Mitch set out to show off some of his anime. The Ranma series he spoke of was something of a martial arts comedy, and Michael admitted that had he been in a better mood, he might have enjoyed it more. But his mind returned to its grim thoughts.
“Here. If you’re not going to watch with him, then drink with me.” Said Boar, offering a glass filled with a tea-colored concoction.
“What’s this?”
“Something I think you’ll like. Got enough booze to kick your ass.”
“I think my ass has been well and goodly kicked already. What’s it called?”
“Long Island Iced Tea. Just remember, there isn’t any tea in it.”
Michael took a chug and the alcohol hit him like a ton of bricks. But he had to admit he liked the flavor. “Woah.” He said.
“Hey, Mitchie, I think he likes it.”
“So, the plan is now to get me blitzed?”
“Something’s got to break you out of this funk.”
“You might find it to be not so easy.” Said Michael. “I got blue balled at Homecoming and moped around for two weeks. This is far worse.”
“So that’s what had you so quiet after you got back from your trip. Well, I think I know just the solution.”
Michael felt a surge of fear. “What are you doing?” he asked timidly.
“You just drink.” Said Boar as he darted into the kitchen.
“I do not want to see her.” Said Michael.
“If not Deb, then who? I’m sure we can find someone else.” Mitch half spoke to Michael and half to Boar in the other room.
“Yeah, I think we can give him quite a selection.” Came the reply. “Party time!”
Michael kept to his drink and it was not long before folks started showing up. Many of them were SCA people that he knew from the club and a few others from his role-playing group like Karl and Geoffrey. But there were also girls: blondes, brunettes, fat, thin, short, and tall.
The apartment began to fill with party guests, but Michael kept to himself, sitting on a corner of the sofa and nursing his 3rd (or was it 4th?) Long Island. He was quite drunk.
One of the girls bounced over to Boar, a giggly buxom brunette. “So, Boar, what’s the occasion?”
Boar motioned towards Michael. “You see the sullen one over there. We’re trying to cheer him up.”
“He’s kinda cute. Why does he need cheering up?”
“Got dumped.”
“I think I know what to do.” She sauntered over to Michael.
Michael gave her an indifferent glance as she came over. “Hi, my name is Kaylie. And you are?”
“Drunk.” Said Michael honestly. His speech was well-slurred.
“My favorite kind.” She slid up next to him.
“I think this one’s more my type.” Said another voice.
Michael stood up straight with a start, his glass dropping to the floor. From behind Kaylie came Deborah.
“Deb.” Said Michael. Any sign that he was inebriated was gone in an instant.
“So, let’s talk. Come with me.” Her tone was forceful, but not hostile.
“Ok.” Said Michael meekly. He followed her outside on to the very lawn where she’d first propositioned him nearly two months earlier.
Deborah lit a cigarette and kicked off her shoes. She walked around in the grass. “You’re taking all this awfully hard.”
Michael stared at her in disbelief. He’d been expecting an accusation, an insult, a slap in the face. Anything but a comment of concern about his break-up.
“I guess last night wasn’t enough." she continued. "I suppose part of that was because you ran off so soon…”
“Ok, I must be more drunk than I thought. I'm remembering last night a whole lot differently than you are.”
“Oh, and what do you remember?”
“I…” the words were difficult to come by. “…forced myself on you.”
“No, you didn’t.” corrected Deborah.
“Excuse me?”
“I gave you what I thought you needed, a chance to vent your anger, your frustration.” Continued Deborah. “The fact that I finally got fucked by you is just a bonus. I came back tonight for more, if you’re interested.”
“I must be losing my mind. I know what I did.”
“You did precisely what I wanted you to do.”
“I thought I hurt you.”
“I can assure you that I’ve had far rougher than you. Trust me, darling, you’re not capable of hurting me, not that way. I asked you to do it, don’t you remember? Do to me what you want to do to her? I did say that and you followed through.”
“It was all a setup?”
“Of sorts.”
Michael let out a sigh of relief. “I thought I was in so much trouble. I thought…”
Deborah cut him off. “Now, be honest. You liked it?”
Michael shook his head. “Not like that.”
“Then how?”
“Gentle, loving. The way it should be.”
“Like this?” She walked over, stood on her tip toes and kissed him. She broke off the kiss quickly and he nodded. “Remember how I said I knew you? I stand by that. You’re not a hard read, Michael Allens. This,” she gave his cheek a gentle caress, “is both what you offer and desire. But so many either can’t see it or have openly rejected it.”
“But not you.” Observed Michael. “No, I did the rejecting. You offered both affection and opportunity and I spat in your face. You even let me do what I did last night without a bit of anger or bitterness. I seems no matter how hard I try, I fail…at everything.”
“Not tonight you don’t. Come with me. Let me drive away all those bitter thoughts. Let me offer you something you can barely imagine.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.
Like a dog on a leash, Michael let her lead him down to the parking lot and to her car.
----
Michael tossed aside the covers and walked over to the window. Outside all was silence. At nearly 4am, even the college town that was Blacksburg was subdued. He looked back at the bed and saw Deborah’s nude form lying there peacefully. He shook his head, amazed at the events of the past two days.
He returned to the window and dwelt on those thoughts. His contemplations were interrupted by Deborah. “A penny for your thoughts?” she said. He jumped, startled, since he had thought her deep asleep. “Sorry.” She added.
“Should I sell them so cheaply?” he mused. “Given all that’s happened lately, I suppose that’s the best deal I could get.” His tone was grim. Deborah made no comment.
He walked back over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “These past few hours have been incredible, unbelievable. You, this, us. But what happens now? The hole inside me is still there, and as much as I love being with you, you’re still not her. Nothing’s changed. And lust is a poor substitution for love.”
“So what does happen now?” asked Deborah. “What do you want?”
“What I wanted most in life. And now it is what I cannot have. So now I wonder. I’ve been wondering about it for almost two days. Is my life over? Should I just, you know, put a gun to my head and kill the pain, end this farce that my life has become?” He looked at her intently. “You may regret asking what I’m thinking.”
She shook her head. “No, you’ve said nothing that’s surprised or shocked me. But let’s be honest. You’re not the one you really want to kill.”
Michael felt a twinge of anger and slowly nodded. “That little prick Shawn. His punk brother. Oh, if I let myself go…” he paused, as if dwelling on the thought.
“And Rebecca herself?” added Deborah. “Others may have offered the thirty pieces of silver, but she’s the one who took them. She’s the one that betrayed you.”
Michael shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. Not even now.”
“The line between love and hate is thin indeed, and she has crossed it. You offer your loyalty and honor to one who has proven herself utterly unworthy of it. She’s no different than the men you mentioned. And you know it.” Deborah’s tone was both harsh and compassionate at the same time, a tone of truth-telling.
“So what would you have me do? Kill them? Are you for real?”
“What’s stopping you?”
“You have to ask?”
“It’s what you want.”
“Life in prison? No, thanks.”
“What does it matter anymore?” said Deborah. “You said yourself you wanted to die, wanted to commit suicide. Why not take a few with you?”
“You’re out of your mind.” Yelled Michael, jumping to his feet. “You’re serious.”
Deborah paused for a moment. “What if I told you I could give you what you wanted?”
“So what are you, Deborah? The criminal underworld boss of Blacksburg?” mocked Michael incredulously. “You going to send some thugs to do them in?”
“No, not criminal. Something more. Allow me to demonstrate. Some light perhaps, will make this easier. Sit, let me show you something.”
Michael sat back down and expected Deborah to turn on the lamp on the bed stand. Instead, the overhead light flashed on. Deborah was standing by the door.
Michael nearly jumped out of his skin. “What the…How did…”
“Get across the room so quickly. I walked. But that’s not all I can do.” She walked back over slowly and held up her left hand. “Let’s see. Perhaps two fingers will be enough.” She held up two fingers and hooked them under the foot of the bed. Then, effortlessly, she lifted the foot of the bed, with Michael still sitting on it, off the floor.
That was too much for Michael. Fear gripped him and he rolled off the bed and dashed for the door, heedless of all else save the need to get out of that apartment.
Deborah was in his path before he could even reach the bedroom door. “You planning to leave without even your clothes?”
Michael stopped and skidded on the tile floor. His legs went out from under him and he landed hard on his rear. “What are you?” he stuttered out.
“Calm yourself.” She said. “If I’d wanted you dead, you would be. I’ve at least five times your strength and speed. In response to your question, I was once human. Just like you. But now, I’m something more.”
Michael just stared at her and said nothing, his breathing heavy from terror. Deborah knelt down. “I could give you this. Make you like me.”
“What’s the catch?”
“You would have to cut all ties to your previous life: Parents, siblings, friends. You would be forever denied the warmth of the sun. And you would have to hunt, each night, for human blood.”
“You’re a vampire.” Michael could hardly believe what he was saying, but what he had just witnessed was undeniable.
“That is what the old legends call my kind. We prefer the term “Kindred”, but yes. That is what I am. And that is what you could be, if you accept my offer.”
Michael stood up, still shivering in fear, but he seemed to have control of himself. “You wouldn’t be offering this out of the goodness of your heart. To make me a monster like you. What’s the real reason?”
“I need your help. Someone with your skills, to help me defeat one of my enemies.”
“So I’m to be cannon fodder in some sort of vampire war?”
“No, but a soldier, yes. If I’d wanted cannon fodder I’d have picked some poor soul at random from the crowd. But you, with what you’ve learned through the SCA about sword play and your martial arts, you are far more than fodder. Far more useful.” She paused to let it sink in for a moment. “The deal is simple. You help rid me of my enemy, and I’ll help you gain revenge on yours.”
“And kill them?”
“If you want. Kill them, ruin them, drive them mad, whatever you wish. Leave them alive perhaps with the ruins of what they could have been,” offered Deborah, “just as they did you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“The door is behind me.”
“What’s to stop me from telling others what you really are?”
“For one, who would believe you? And two, if you do, I will kill you. And don’t think for a second you’ll escape me. Just as my strength and speed are enhanced beyond human norms, so too are my senses. Wherever you go, I can track you. You will never escape me.” She looked at him with a gaze as hard as stone. “You already know this. I found you last night. I’ve found you every time I’ve wanted.”
“So that’s what this is all about? From day one, you’ve not been wanted to fuck me, you’ve been wanting to recruit me.”
“The fucking is an added bonus. I said we have enhanced senses, including touch. Makes the pleasure all the greater.” She smiled. “Oh, and on that note, you should probably consider in your deliberations another vampiric gift that I’ve not yet mentioned. One you have already seen at work, although likely didn’t know it.”
“Your beauty.”
“More than beauty. The ability to walk into a room and have every eye turn to you. To make every person there want to be you or with you. To make every dick harden and every pussy wet just by your very presence. You felt it, I know you did. You wanted me from the moment you laid eyes on me. In fact, I’m actually pretty impressed you resisted as long as you did.”
“So maybe being such a ‘Churchboy’ wasn’t a bad thing after all? It made me more interesting.”
“Indeed. The hunt was all the sweeter.”
Michael thought for a moment. “I could use this power on Rebecca?”
“Oh, certainly. Have what you always denied yourself before. Have her gushing between the legs just by you walking in the door, begging to go down on you. You could have your way with her, do whatever you like, before you deliver whatever coupe de grace you have in mind.”
“And all I need do is kill this enemy of yours?”
“Help me kill him, yes.”
“Then I accept. Make me like you.”
Deborah nodded. “I warn you. This will hurt a bit.” Then faster than he could see, she was on him. Her weight knocked him back to the floor and he skidded several feet. He felt a sharp pain in his neck. Fear grabbed him again, but only for a moment. It vanished and was replaced with a sense of peace and pleasure.
“What you are feeling,” said Deborah, pausing from her feast, her face now covered in blood, “is what we call the Kiss. It will make your future victims far more pliable.” She dove in again. Michael gave no resistance.
After a few seconds, she came up again. “You have now drained to the point of death. If I do nothing else, you will die.” She sat back. “So how much do you trust me, Michael?”
Weak and barely conscious, Michael could do little more than reach out, as if to grab her. “Very well.” She said, cutting her wrist with her fingernail and making it bleed. “Drink and join our world.”
The first drop that hit his tongue seemed to invigorate him. He sat up and grabbed her arm, placing his mouth on her wound and sucking at the blood there. Deborah twitched herself, as if in pain, but she held on for a few seconds, yanking away when it became unbearable.
“I had forgotten that it hurts.” She said to herself, grabbing and squeezing at her arm as if to staunch her own pain. Michael convulsed once and then lay still.
After a time, several minutes, he convulsed again and sat up. “Is it done?”
“Indeed. Welcome to your new life.”
“This was done to you?”
Deborah nodded.
“When?”
“It was 1949, in San Francisco. My mother was a Chinese prostitute. My father some drunken Irish sailor who didn’t pull out in time.”
“You’re half-Chinese? That explains…”
“My exotic good looks?” said Deborah with a quirky smile. “Yes. As they say in the old days, when I had my flowering, I was put to work in my mother’s brother. I was given my tattoo and turned tricks just like everyone else. And then, she came. I’d never been with a woman before, but she was not just a woman. She was kindred and was looking for a toy for her amusement. She chose me, made me into what I am now. She kept me for a time, years really, decades. We would travel from city to city, until I found a liberator to set me free from her.”
“You had her killed?”
“It was the only way. Once on my own, I came to Virginia. Made a name for myself in Roanoke. And I’ve been here ever since. And now, I have a pet of my own. But unlike my maker did with me, I will not hold you in thrall. We are friends and lovers. And for the time being, united in common purpose. But when those purposes are ended, you may go or stay as you wish.”
“But not before?”
“That would be unwise. You are a babe in arms, or the equivalent thereof. You know nothing of us, how we live, how we survive, how our society is structured. I will teach you these things. But without me, you would be just as doomed as if I had abandoned you drained of your blood on floor a minute ago.”
Michael nodded. He rubbed his belly pensively.
“It’s begun, hasn’t it? The hunger. You will never be rid of it completely. However, you are newly made and it is worst in that moment. We must hunt. So begins your first lesson. Come, get your clothes. It is late but I’m sure we can find some morsel on the streets tonight.”
“Dawn will be in a few hours.”
“Yes, and we must be back under shadow before it arrives. Hurry.”
----
“Pickings will be slim this late. But it’s not difficult in a college town to know where to look.” Said Deborah as they walked down the street from her apartment towards downtown Blacksburg.
“At 4:30am, there are only two places open.”
“Indeed, both within a short walk of here. The donut shop and 7-11. Tell me. Which is the better choice tonight?”
Michael sniffed the air as a hound might. His mind flooded with scents he’d never experienced before. It was overwhelming.
“Your mind will adapt to your enhanced senses with time. Right now, it’ll be hard to discern anything by scent, since that takes practice. But in the quiet of this night, try a different tact. Use your hearing.”
Michael did so. There was little background noise to distract him. But he could still hear a great deal. The sound of the donut machine running a block away inside the shop. A car coming down Main Street two blocks further. And the sound of breathing as a night owl student made his or her way towards the 7-11 convenience store.
“The 7-11.”
Deborah turned her head as if to listen as well. She sniffed the air. “Yes, very good. And she’s drunk to boot. So much the better.”
When Deborah and Michael arrived, their quarry had already gone inside. She was young, perhaps a freshman, and seemed a bit tipsy. She was alone, apparently on a snack run after a late night drinking binge. The only other soul in sight was the store clerk.
“So, how do we take her?” asked Deborah.
“Given the time, wouldn’t brute force be best?”
Deborah nodded. “But no witnesses. Make sure the clerk sees nothing.”
Michael looked around. Near the edge of the store parking lot was a brick half-wall. A perfect place to hide. He gestured towards it and moved to hide. Deborah remained behind.
When the girl came out of the store, she made her way towards the half-wall, unaware of what lay in wait. When she passed from the lighted parking lot into the shadows, Michael struck. Fast as lightning, he leaped out from behind the wall and grabbed the girl, dragging her back with barely a struggle.
Deborah stood up and walked over. When she arrived, Michael had finished. Deborah leaned down and checked the girl. “Dead.” She observed. “Almost always happens with the first feeding.”
Michael jumped back as if bitten. “What? I killed her?”
Deborah nodded. “You’ll get used to it. Killing will soon become less of a moral quandary and more of a practical one.”
"You let her die? You let me kill her." said Michael with a shocked anger.
Deborah picked up the limp corpse, carried it over to a nearby dumpster, and tossed it inside. He looked at her incredulously.
“This isn’t…” began Michael.
“Isn’t what? A bit late for second thoughts now.” Said Deborah fiercely. “You have been reborn to darkness. The choice is now your life or theirs. This is your first lesson, Michael. You are now a predator, a killer. That is a simple fact.”
“So that is to be my life now? To kill indiscriminately?”
“You will find your unlife short indeed were you to do so. No, there are certain realities. I want those to become clear to you, before I show you how to temper your new bestial nature.” Deborah glanced towards the horizon. “Come, there are many nights ahead for these lessons. I am weary and the sun will soon be upon us.”
Act One Chapter Five
Character Concepts
As I'll be trading off Storytelling duties with others in our group, I will need a player character of my own. I've got two ideas, the first I'm calling the "blank slate", the second is the "fish out of water." You'll see why they have those titles in a moment.
Concept #1
----------
Do you know what it is like to be completely alone? No, I suppose not. Few others do. Let me tell you my story. I was born the middle child to a blue colar family in a blue colar Pennsylvania town. Football town, a place where everything revolves around those games. I was a sickly child, not strong, not quick. In that society, worthless. My parents doted on my kid sister and demanded everything of my older brother, but largely ignored me. They hardly noticed that I never lost my baby teeth the way other kids do. No, mine got knocked out by the bullies on the playground. They never cared about the bruises. "It'll toughen him up." my father would say and that ended all discussion of the matter.
And so it was through grade school, and even into middle school. But then I found where my dad kept his .357 Magnum. I smuggled it to school one day, tucked in my belt. I felt on top of the world as I marched up to Tommy Morris' desk in homeroom. He was the team's star running back, going to play for Penn State and then the NFL one day. He was also the biggest bully in school. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled at me. I pulled the gun and watched him piss himself. Then I pulled the trigger. Twice.
It was the same day the space shuttle blew up. But in my town, no one remembers it as the day the Challenger exploded. No, it was the day "that kid shot Tommy Morris." They don't even remember my name, just his.
The next two years were a blur. Arrested for murder. My folks were run out of town. Tried as an adult. Guilty. Twenty-five to life. Frackville Prison. And there I was, a lamb among the wolves, in a maximum security penitentary, all at the tender age of 14.
That was...well, there aren't words for it. I did my best to keep my head down. Wasn't too hard. At first, I wasn't an asset or a threat to the other inmates. Occasionally, one would come to me for "conjugal relief." That was unpleasant to put it mildly, but those stopped after a while. I spent most of my days in the library or the gym, learning all the stuff I was missing in school and packing on the muscle, because what else was there to do?
My actual adult years were different. Now, the other prisoners wanted a piece of me, either as an ally in their futile games of power, or to take me down a notch. But I kept out of it, stayed neutral, behaved myself, and the years past. Then word came that the system was broke, and they were letting as many people go as they could. Parole hearing became a joke and my required 25 years were up.
A few commendations for good behavior and they rubber-stamped me right out the door. But where I was going to go? My family was long gone and no one in my home town wanted to remember me. A fellow prisoner, Jimmy, was released the same day, having served his debt to society for armed robbery. He was from Philly and suggested we go there.
It wasn't easy finding work at first, but the clubs and bars down on South Street always needed some muscle. I got a job as a bouncer. The proprietor barely looked 20, but she gave me a chance, decent hours, decent pay, and didn't seem to care about my record. Hell, she even said it something of an asset in that line of work. Made me scary, she told me.
I worked there for about a year, was starting to take classes at Temple. It was a decent life. But I was still alone and really didn't know how I was going to fix that. My classmates at Temple were kids, and no one gets friendly with the bouncer at a bar. Well, no one but her.
Her name was Marissa, and apparently she found me handsome or something. I had no idea how to respond to that. I had missed all those formative social years. Never went to homecoming to the prom. Never fooled around and had one-night-stands in college. My only sexual experience was being bottomed in Cell 17 by a man named Bubba. But she didn't seem to mind that. Even said my "innocence" was endearing. I fell for her so hard and she for me.
One night, after I got off work, we snuck into the alley behind the club. She was going to show me how it was done. I just gotten my pants down when something struck from behind and everything went black. When I awoke, I was alone and felt strange. I could hear things I'd never heard before, smell things too, like a whole new world had opened up to me. And I found Marissa, what was left of her, in a nearby dumpster. I ran.
I soon found out I couldn't abide the sunlight. And that food no longer satisfied my hungers. Blood was all I wanted. I'd become something monstrous. I might have self-destructed within a week had my boss not found me. The secret of her odd youth now made sense. She was like me, a vampire.
Rebecca took me in, said that since I was abandoned by my sire, that she would take me in and teach me the ways of the kindred. Soon, I will meet the "Prince" and become fully introduced into their society. Good. Maybe I'll meet the one who made me this way. Maybe I'll meet the one who killed the only person who ever loved me. And then I'll do to him what I did to Tommy Morris.
Clan: Gangrel or Nosferatu
Stats: Physical primary. Weak social.
Skills: Physical primary. Weak knowledge.
Disciplines: Physical only. Nothing esoteric or supernatural.
Concept #2
-----------
They don't tell you in the history books about how cold it really was at Valley Forge. How miserable the conditions. Well, some of the historians do, but with 200 years detachment, it never comes across quite as brutal as it should. No pay. Little to no food. Bitter cold and snow. Murmurs of mutiny every day and Washington, the great saint of our nation, become more brutal and more monstrous to keep the army together.
I grew sick of seeing men be shot for nothing more than a desire for hearth and home. I fled into the night, past sentries who had frozen to death at their posts. I figured I had nothing left to lose. I would either die like them at Valley Forge, be shot for desertion, or shot by the British as a spy, but maybe I might slip between all those horrid fates and see my home again.
The British however did catch. Although not really the British, their Hessian mercenaries. Since I knew a bit of German, I was able to convince them that I knew a bit of Washington's plans. I didn't know much, but I bargained what I did know for a chance at life. When the spring came and the Hessians repelled Washington's first advance, the British credited me with the victory. General Monroe wanted to see me, to thank me personally.
General Thomas Monroe was not what I expected. You know him now as the great ancient of our city, but this was long ago, before his encounter with the 13th disciple and conversion to fanaticism. During the Revolution, he was a Royalist, determined to keep America in English hands and Philadelphia out of Carthian hands. He was more successful with the latter, but not entirely. The throne went to another. Another that I, now a vampire, served with fidelity and loyalty. Not that it mattered.
Monroe was not keen to forgive my betrayal. By the 1890s, he'd manuevered his allies in such a way to leave me vulnerable, ripe for his revenge. A well-planned false accusation and Prince Baird called a blood hunt to destroy me. I fled to Montgomery County, dug a hole in a field, and went to sleep within it.
The builders who disturbed my slumber a hundred years later did not live long to regret their mistake. I awoke to a brand new world. Prince Baird dead, Monroe is stripped of most of his power and soon to enter torpor himself, and the city is now in the hands of a young Carthian Prince named Michael Allens. I understand little of this modern world, but I am certain that I remember enough to teach this young Prince a thing or two. School's in session.
Clan: Mekhet
Stats: Mental high. Social weak
Skills: ?
Disciplines: Obfuscate
Concept #1
----------
Do you know what it is like to be completely alone? No, I suppose not. Few others do. Let me tell you my story. I was born the middle child to a blue colar family in a blue colar Pennsylvania town. Football town, a place where everything revolves around those games. I was a sickly child, not strong, not quick. In that society, worthless. My parents doted on my kid sister and demanded everything of my older brother, but largely ignored me. They hardly noticed that I never lost my baby teeth the way other kids do. No, mine got knocked out by the bullies on the playground. They never cared about the bruises. "It'll toughen him up." my father would say and that ended all discussion of the matter.
And so it was through grade school, and even into middle school. But then I found where my dad kept his .357 Magnum. I smuggled it to school one day, tucked in my belt. I felt on top of the world as I marched up to Tommy Morris' desk in homeroom. He was the team's star running back, going to play for Penn State and then the NFL one day. He was also the biggest bully in school. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled at me. I pulled the gun and watched him piss himself. Then I pulled the trigger. Twice.
It was the same day the space shuttle blew up. But in my town, no one remembers it as the day the Challenger exploded. No, it was the day "that kid shot Tommy Morris." They don't even remember my name, just his.
The next two years were a blur. Arrested for murder. My folks were run out of town. Tried as an adult. Guilty. Twenty-five to life. Frackville Prison. And there I was, a lamb among the wolves, in a maximum security penitentary, all at the tender age of 14.
That was...well, there aren't words for it. I did my best to keep my head down. Wasn't too hard. At first, I wasn't an asset or a threat to the other inmates. Occasionally, one would come to me for "conjugal relief." That was unpleasant to put it mildly, but those stopped after a while. I spent most of my days in the library or the gym, learning all the stuff I was missing in school and packing on the muscle, because what else was there to do?
My actual adult years were different. Now, the other prisoners wanted a piece of me, either as an ally in their futile games of power, or to take me down a notch. But I kept out of it, stayed neutral, behaved myself, and the years past. Then word came that the system was broke, and they were letting as many people go as they could. Parole hearing became a joke and my required 25 years were up.
A few commendations for good behavior and they rubber-stamped me right out the door. But where I was going to go? My family was long gone and no one in my home town wanted to remember me. A fellow prisoner, Jimmy, was released the same day, having served his debt to society for armed robbery. He was from Philly and suggested we go there.
It wasn't easy finding work at first, but the clubs and bars down on South Street always needed some muscle. I got a job as a bouncer. The proprietor barely looked 20, but she gave me a chance, decent hours, decent pay, and didn't seem to care about my record. Hell, she even said it something of an asset in that line of work. Made me scary, she told me.
I worked there for about a year, was starting to take classes at Temple. It was a decent life. But I was still alone and really didn't know how I was going to fix that. My classmates at Temple were kids, and no one gets friendly with the bouncer at a bar. Well, no one but her.
Her name was Marissa, and apparently she found me handsome or something. I had no idea how to respond to that. I had missed all those formative social years. Never went to homecoming to the prom. Never fooled around and had one-night-stands in college. My only sexual experience was being bottomed in Cell 17 by a man named Bubba. But she didn't seem to mind that. Even said my "innocence" was endearing. I fell for her so hard and she for me.
One night, after I got off work, we snuck into the alley behind the club. She was going to show me how it was done. I just gotten my pants down when something struck from behind and everything went black. When I awoke, I was alone and felt strange. I could hear things I'd never heard before, smell things too, like a whole new world had opened up to me. And I found Marissa, what was left of her, in a nearby dumpster. I ran.
I soon found out I couldn't abide the sunlight. And that food no longer satisfied my hungers. Blood was all I wanted. I'd become something monstrous. I might have self-destructed within a week had my boss not found me. The secret of her odd youth now made sense. She was like me, a vampire.
Rebecca took me in, said that since I was abandoned by my sire, that she would take me in and teach me the ways of the kindred. Soon, I will meet the "Prince" and become fully introduced into their society. Good. Maybe I'll meet the one who made me this way. Maybe I'll meet the one who killed the only person who ever loved me. And then I'll do to him what I did to Tommy Morris.
Clan: Gangrel or Nosferatu
Stats: Physical primary. Weak social.
Skills: Physical primary. Weak knowledge.
Disciplines: Physical only. Nothing esoteric or supernatural.
Concept #2
-----------
They don't tell you in the history books about how cold it really was at Valley Forge. How miserable the conditions. Well, some of the historians do, but with 200 years detachment, it never comes across quite as brutal as it should. No pay. Little to no food. Bitter cold and snow. Murmurs of mutiny every day and Washington, the great saint of our nation, become more brutal and more monstrous to keep the army together.
I grew sick of seeing men be shot for nothing more than a desire for hearth and home. I fled into the night, past sentries who had frozen to death at their posts. I figured I had nothing left to lose. I would either die like them at Valley Forge, be shot for desertion, or shot by the British as a spy, but maybe I might slip between all those horrid fates and see my home again.
The British however did catch. Although not really the British, their Hessian mercenaries. Since I knew a bit of German, I was able to convince them that I knew a bit of Washington's plans. I didn't know much, but I bargained what I did know for a chance at life. When the spring came and the Hessians repelled Washington's first advance, the British credited me with the victory. General Monroe wanted to see me, to thank me personally.
General Thomas Monroe was not what I expected. You know him now as the great ancient of our city, but this was long ago, before his encounter with the 13th disciple and conversion to fanaticism. During the Revolution, he was a Royalist, determined to keep America in English hands and Philadelphia out of Carthian hands. He was more successful with the latter, but not entirely. The throne went to another. Another that I, now a vampire, served with fidelity and loyalty. Not that it mattered.
Monroe was not keen to forgive my betrayal. By the 1890s, he'd manuevered his allies in such a way to leave me vulnerable, ripe for his revenge. A well-planned false accusation and Prince Baird called a blood hunt to destroy me. I fled to Montgomery County, dug a hole in a field, and went to sleep within it.
The builders who disturbed my slumber a hundred years later did not live long to regret their mistake. I awoke to a brand new world. Prince Baird dead, Monroe is stripped of most of his power and soon to enter torpor himself, and the city is now in the hands of a young Carthian Prince named Michael Allens. I understand little of this modern world, but I am certain that I remember enough to teach this young Prince a thing or two. School's in session.
Clan: Mekhet
Stats: Mental high. Social weak
Skills: ?
Disciplines: Obfuscate
Act One Chapter Three - She Sells Sanctuary
Whack! Whack! went the noise of the rattan against the tree. Michael was pleased with the rhythm and accuracy of his blows, enough to let a smile cross his face. It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, and the SCA was on the Drillfield of Virginia Tech to practice swordplay.
“Ah, the brooding one comes forth to rejoin his boon companions.” Said Boar as he walked up, speaking in-character for the SCA meeting.
“Methinks he hath received a missive from his fair lady.” Added Mitch.
“Well met, my friends. Your intuition has not failed you.” Replied Michael, also in-character.
“After your trip home, you did not seem yourself.”
“I wasn’t. Things didn’t quite work out the way I’d hoped. I was a little depressed by it.” Michael decided against going into further detail. He figured it would only lead to more teasing about his refusal to sleep with Deborah.
“So, what did she say in the letter?” asked Mitch.
“In truth, I don’t know. I haven’t read her letter yet. I picked it up from the mail box and then dashed over here.”
“Now here is a man dedicated to his craft. He ignores a long awaited letter in order to whack a tree with a fake sword.” Teased Boar. “Go, you fool. After two weeks moping in your dorm room, I doubt your skills will atrophy that much further in a few short minutes.”
“Alright.” Agreed Michael.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to read it?” added Mitch as Michael walked away. “After all, if their last meeting ended with a fight?”
“No worries.” Said Michael as he fetched the letter from his pack and ran it under his nose. “I doubt she’d send a Dear John scented with her perfume.”
Mike and Mitch looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Well then.” Said Mitch. “I stand corrected.”
Michael ignored them as he opened the letter. There was single page on pink stationary and a photograph of the two of them taken at the beginning of the homecoming dance. He savored seeing her in that dress again and his memories immediately darted to seeing her out of it in the shadows of the picnic pavilion. Michael began to read.
Sept 30, 1991
Dear Michael,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write. Things are so busy here with school and family stuff. My brother is off to boot camp, so we had a big send off for him. And now I finally have a moment to write you.
I wish now I had not turned you down that night. It’s been hard with you being away. I miss you. I wish you could be here and hold me in your arms. Believe me when I say I really regret wimping out. I never wanted to be with anyone as badly and I blew it. Please forgive me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Not after all we’ve been through.
It’s been wonderful seeing all that’s going on with you down at Tech. You really are changing into a new man, Michael. I’m sure some of those you’ve talked about are part of that. I’m excited that you’ve found such a good group of friends: Gamers and SCAtians and all that. Being on a big college campus, you must meet all sorts of interesting people. I look forward to coming down to visit and meet all of them.
Until next time. Love forever.
Rebecca
Michael looked up from the perfumed page to see Boar and Mitch waiting expectantly. When he said nothing, the two looked back at one another. “Ah, young love.” Teased Boar.
“Would you two stop it?”
“You want to make us?” challenged Boar playfully. “I still have a few thumpings to avenge.”
“So be it.” Said Michael, picking up his rattan sword.
----
“…living so long with my pictures of you…almost believe that they’re real.” Played the CD player.
Boar was waving a photograph. “Hey, guys, take a gander at Lord duLac's fair lady.” Michael was chasing after him, trying to fetch back the picture. They had all gathered, as they always did after SCA, back at Boar’s apartment. The booze came out. The radio was playing and all were there to have a good time.
“So that’s the one you turned down Deborah for?” said one. “Now I can see why.”
Michael fetched the photo back. “Come on, guys, give me a break.”
“You’re just a freshman. It’s our job to make your life miserable.”
“A freshman that can kick your ass on the tourney field.”
“He keeps bringing that up.” Added Mitch. “Pride goeth before the fall, they say.”
“I’ve just got one question for you.” Said Boar, taking a swig from his drink. “Does she put out like Deb?”
Michael might have been angry at such an implication before, but he was in far too good a mood today for that. He gave Boar a playful smack on the shoulder. “No, God no. Is that all you think about? There are more important things.”
“Whatever. Looks like Churchboy has got himself a Churchgirl.” Boar chuckled.
Michael darkened. Boar was pushing and Michael's good humor had its limits. He tucked the picture into his pocket. “It’s not like that. I’m the only one for her. She’s already said as much. I’m tired of your insinuations and tired of the teasing, Mike.” His tone grew hostile.
At that moment, Deb walked in the door. Spotting the look on Michael’s face, she came over.
“I think that’s probably enough for one night.” She said, moving between Michael and Boar and placing her hand affectionately on Michael’s chest. “We’re all friends here. Let’s try to keep it that way.”
“Yeah, I’m just kidding you.” Said Boar. “Try not to take it too seriously.”
“I get…” Michael began angrily, but Deb grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Let it go.” She said. “It’s not worth it.”
“He teases me and I'm sick of it.”
“I heard. Boar’s voice tends to carry.” Said Deb coolly. “He can only hurt you if you let him.” She paused. "So, can I see her?"
“You are a strange one, Deborah.”
"I'd like to size up the competition."
Michael pulled out Rebecca's picture and showed it to Deborah. "Not bad. Cute. Redhead. Decent chest. Nice curves. Great legs."
"It's like you're drooling over her yourself."
"Maybe I am. Or have they not told you I go both ways?"
Michael frowned at that admission. Deborah's response surprised him. "Ah, and there's the Churchboy I remember. I missed you." She looked him in the eye. "Should I guess about what happened a couple weeks ago?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Well, either you went all the way and you're embarrassed to admit it or she turned you down. If the former, I want all the juicy details. It'll make me wet just thinking about it."
"You are unashamedly vulgar." growled Michael.
"If it's the latter, I can always offer you a consolation prize."
"You don't quit easily, do you?"
“No, because I know I have something you want.”
“No, you don’t.” said Michael, returning the photo to his pocket.
“Ah, but I do. You see, even if you scored, she's still there and I'm here. In fact, I imagine I've got a better chance now if she popped your cherry, because now you know what it's like."
"Do you really think I find you even remotely attractive?"
"You're a terrible liar, Michael. That's just weak. They all know what you really think and so do I."
“Am I that transparent?”
“You are many things, but complicated is not one of them.” She paused. “Look, I can teach you to loosen up, to take life as it comes, to enjoy yourself. You’re so afraid to let your guard down for even a minute. You’re so closed off, thinking you’re hiding behind these great walls.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know almost everything. That’s what bothers you.” She slid closer, wrapping her arms about his waist. “Just trust us. Trust me, and we can show you things that’ll blow your mind. We’ll give you the time of your life, if you let us.”
“I have everything I want. Everything I need. You offer me nothing I want.” He gave her a less-than-pleasant shove and stormed out the door.
“Indeed.” Said Deborah to herself. “We shall see.”
----
Michael came down the stairs into the basement of Thomas Hall, down to the mailboxes for the students. He was pleasantly surprised to see Karl checking his mail.
“Hey, Shadowrun tonight at BRPA.” Reminded Karl. “You coming?”
“I intend to. Why the change of venue?”
“Just trying to get some new players, maybe make some folks interested in a new or different game. I could use your help there.”
“Some of my BattleTech group will be there. I think we can talk them into a switch, at least for the night.”
“Good. Looking forward to it.”
Michael opened up his mailbox and saw a letter within. “Hey!” he exclaimed out loud.
“What is it?” inquired Karl.
“A letter from Rebecca. Second in two weeks.”
“She must really miss you.”
“Well, the last one was something. Perfume and all.” Michael ripped open the envelope and began to read.
October 14, 1992
Dear Michael,
This letter will probably come as a shock for you. But there's no easy way to say what I have to say. Things have changed since the last time I wrote.
Shawn and I were working on a lab project one night, and we got to talking. We got talking about Tommy. He's really the first person I've spoken to about what happened besides you. He was understanding and sympathetic. It was like he knew what it meant to go through all that.
One thing led to another and we started going out. We've gone out several times in these past two weeks. Things are really clicking for us. I've never had a relationship quite like this. Things are really serious between us.
Of course, you're certainly smart enough to know what this means for us. I'm sorry this is such a shock and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. You've been good to me, and you will always remain a special friend to me. But our time as a couple is over.
Rebecca
Karl reached out to touch Michael's shoulder. “You look like you just got punched in the gut.”
“I did.”
----
Michael picked at his dice as the others around him relished the fun of the Shadowrun game. He had hoped being there would provide a nice distraction from the gnawing hole in his heart, but he’d hardly spoken. Hardly done anything except show up.
Corwin was across the table from him, enjoying his new character, a street detective. Beside him was Mitch, whose luck with his dice still seemed uncanny. Their in-game mission was to track down a missing mercenary, something Michael’s character would have come in handy for, but Michael simply wasn’t into the game.
“So,” said Corwin, in-character, “what do you know about this guy?”
“Mal used to run with a group of Shadowrunners I was with,” said Karl, playing the part as he always did of the non-player characters. “but we broke up about six months ago.”
Karl was about to continue when Michael shot to his feet. The words “broke up,” even in this completely unrelated context, were simply too much for him to bear.
“I’m sorry, guys, but I’m just not with it tonight. I think I’m going home.” With that, Michael swiftly gathered his things and headed out the door.
It was a short walk up from Squires Student Center to Thomas. Michael checked his watch. It was about 8:45pm and the sun had set. With Corwin still in the game, his room would be empty and it was the perfect time to get some answers.
Michael indifferently dropped his gaming materials on the floor and headed over to the phone. He punched in Rebecca’s number from memory, his heart in his throat as he did so. Despite his terror, he knew he had to do this.
The other end picked up after only a few short rings. A familiar voice said “Hello.”
“Rebecca.” Said Michael feebly.
“Hi, Michael. I thought I might be getting this call.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I told you that in the letter.” Said Rebecca impatiently. It was obvious she did not want to discuss the matter, but courtesy kept her on the line.
“Things were going so well for us. I really thought we were…”
“Michael, the simple fact is there are a lot of things about you that I truly love, but there are some things that I don’t. I’ve given this a lot of thought since you were home last. And I’m not sure I can live with these things. There are things about you that frighten me.”
“Like what?” said Michael with a baffled tone.
“Your temper, for one. You scare me when you are angry.”
“I would never hurt you. How can you say that?”
“Yet you lash out at me from time to time. Like you did after Todd came after you at the game.”
“He’s an asshole; he’s bullied me for years. Yes, I was angry. And yes, I did snap at you. But I apologized and I thought you forgave me.” Michael paused for a moment and took a different tact. “Besides, if you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly a match for him or anyone else. Not only wouldn’t I hurt you, there’s plenty of evidence to suggest I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” Said Rebecca, stonewalling him. “You took martial arts. I’ve seen you at SCA events. You know how to fight. And I know you. Well enough to know what you’d do to me even now if we were face-to-face having this conversation.”
“You genuinely think I’d hurt you?” said Michael incredulously. These new accusations stung worse than being broken up with.
“I know you’d try, because I’m about to tell you something that I know will set you off.”
“What?”
“There’s no delicate way to put this so I’ll be blunt. Shawn and I have slept together.”
The hammer-blow feeling Michael received when he first read the letter that afternoon returned with a vengeance. “You did what?” he stammered out. “You said it was me you wanted. I thought…” Michael felt rage boil up within him, the volume of his voice rising as it did. “I SAVED MYSELF FOR YOU!” He shouted.
“See what I mean?” said Rebecca, satisfied that Michael had now made her point for her.
Michael regained his composure. “How could you?” he asked feebly.
“You’re not here. Shawn is.”
“But I love you.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” The click of her phone hanging up followed.
----
Michael wandered for hours, making circuits of Virginia Tech’s campus, trying to find some peace amidst the chaos of his feelings. It hurt. It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt. And he was angry, furious at Rebecca’s betrayal, her hypocrisy, all the broken promises.
But most of all, he felt humiliated. The last few years of his life now seemed a fool’s venture. Everything he’d done, everything he’d tried to do was folly. His compassion for her over the death of her brother. His loyalty. His faith. He now knew it had bought him nothing, and what had it cost him?
Physical weariness finally got the better of him and he sat down, slumped really, within a small copse of trees near the Duck Pond. His despair overwhelmed him and he began to cry. As the tears flowed, his thoughts moved to suicide; he began to think of death as a release from the pain. A perverse smile crossed his lips briefly. What retribution it would be if Rebecca blamed herself for his death just as she had for her brother’s?
But the vengeful thought was soon overwhelmed once more by his grief and he returned to his tears. He did not know nor did he care how long he sat there weeping. But he was not alone.
Quietly, almost respectfully, Deborah stepped out of the shadows and stood nearby. She said nothing, but merely waited for Michael to notice her arrival.
After a time, he looked up. His eyes were red from the tears and he seemed unable to focus on her at first. But after a moment, he locked eyes with her, but said nothing.
“So,” she said quietly. “it has happened.”
Michael stood up slowly, with deliberate menace. “Come to say ‘I told you so’?” He jeered angrily.
Deb gave no answer, but merely kept her gaze firmly locked on his as he tried to tower over her. Deb was certain that anything she said would set him off, regardless of what tone she took.
She spoke anyway. “Playing by the rules didn’t work.” She said matter-of-factly. “It never does.”
“Then fuck the rules!” roared Michael. He gave Deborah a hard shove, knocking her off her feet and onto the grass. “And fuck you.”
Deborah said nothing, but a small smile crossed her lips. Michael looked down at her, his temper still hot. Her legs were apart and he had full view up her mini-skirt. Deborah was wearing no panties.
His eyes darted from her crotch to her face. She was well aware of what he could see, and yet her look was oddly neutral, as if waiting for him to make the next move.
He did. He reached down and grabbed her ankles, dragging her towards him across the wet grass. As he did so, her skirt hiked up fully, exposing her completely.
“So now the armor comes off. And the real you finally emerges.” Commented Deborah as Michael fumbled with his belt. He stopped, his uncertainty returning. “DO IT!” she shouted. “DO TO ME WHAT YOU WANT TO DO TO HER!”
Michael’s face hardened. There was no more hesitation. He practically ripped off his belt and yanked his pants down. The underwear followed. His manhood was stiffened by fury and he dropped to his knees and thrust into her.
His thrusts were violent, rough, but Deborah gave no resistance. She said nothing more, no protest, no moans of pleasure, nothing. Her face returned to its odd neutrality, as if she were a mere disinterested observer of her own rape.
But she was not completely passive either. After a few minutes of Michael’s furious pounding, she reached down and pulled up the hem of her tank top, exposing her breasts. Michael took advantage and grabbed and groped at them, never slowing his pace.
His frantic rhythm soon got the better of Michael and he gave one final desperate thrust as he reached climax, emptying himself into her. In that same moment, he seemed to return to himself.
He staggered back to his feet, nearly tripping over the jeans about his ankles. His face was a mask of unbelieving horror, unable to comprehend what he had just done. Deborah lay there, her clothing disheveled, her eyes never leaving him.
“Oh, my God.” Was all he could utter. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them back up. And he tore off into the night.
Act One Chapter Four
“Ah, the brooding one comes forth to rejoin his boon companions.” Said Boar as he walked up, speaking in-character for the SCA meeting.
“Methinks he hath received a missive from his fair lady.” Added Mitch.
“Well met, my friends. Your intuition has not failed you.” Replied Michael, also in-character.
“After your trip home, you did not seem yourself.”
“I wasn’t. Things didn’t quite work out the way I’d hoped. I was a little depressed by it.” Michael decided against going into further detail. He figured it would only lead to more teasing about his refusal to sleep with Deborah.
“So, what did she say in the letter?” asked Mitch.
“In truth, I don’t know. I haven’t read her letter yet. I picked it up from the mail box and then dashed over here.”
“Now here is a man dedicated to his craft. He ignores a long awaited letter in order to whack a tree with a fake sword.” Teased Boar. “Go, you fool. After two weeks moping in your dorm room, I doubt your skills will atrophy that much further in a few short minutes.”
“Alright.” Agreed Michael.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to read it?” added Mitch as Michael walked away. “After all, if their last meeting ended with a fight?”
“No worries.” Said Michael as he fetched the letter from his pack and ran it under his nose. “I doubt she’d send a Dear John scented with her perfume.”
Mike and Mitch looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Well then.” Said Mitch. “I stand corrected.”
Michael ignored them as he opened the letter. There was single page on pink stationary and a photograph of the two of them taken at the beginning of the homecoming dance. He savored seeing her in that dress again and his memories immediately darted to seeing her out of it in the shadows of the picnic pavilion. Michael began to read.
Sept 30, 1991
Dear Michael,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write. Things are so busy here with school and family stuff. My brother is off to boot camp, so we had a big send off for him. And now I finally have a moment to write you.
I wish now I had not turned you down that night. It’s been hard with you being away. I miss you. I wish you could be here and hold me in your arms. Believe me when I say I really regret wimping out. I never wanted to be with anyone as badly and I blew it. Please forgive me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Not after all we’ve been through.
It’s been wonderful seeing all that’s going on with you down at Tech. You really are changing into a new man, Michael. I’m sure some of those you’ve talked about are part of that. I’m excited that you’ve found such a good group of friends: Gamers and SCAtians and all that. Being on a big college campus, you must meet all sorts of interesting people. I look forward to coming down to visit and meet all of them.
Until next time. Love forever.
Rebecca
Michael looked up from the perfumed page to see Boar and Mitch waiting expectantly. When he said nothing, the two looked back at one another. “Ah, young love.” Teased Boar.
“Would you two stop it?”
“You want to make us?” challenged Boar playfully. “I still have a few thumpings to avenge.”
“So be it.” Said Michael, picking up his rattan sword.
----
“…living so long with my pictures of you…almost believe that they’re real.” Played the CD player.
Boar was waving a photograph. “Hey, guys, take a gander at Lord duLac's fair lady.” Michael was chasing after him, trying to fetch back the picture. They had all gathered, as they always did after SCA, back at Boar’s apartment. The booze came out. The radio was playing and all were there to have a good time.
“So that’s the one you turned down Deborah for?” said one. “Now I can see why.”
Michael fetched the photo back. “Come on, guys, give me a break.”
“You’re just a freshman. It’s our job to make your life miserable.”
“A freshman that can kick your ass on the tourney field.”
“He keeps bringing that up.” Added Mitch. “Pride goeth before the fall, they say.”
“I’ve just got one question for you.” Said Boar, taking a swig from his drink. “Does she put out like Deb?”
Michael might have been angry at such an implication before, but he was in far too good a mood today for that. He gave Boar a playful smack on the shoulder. “No, God no. Is that all you think about? There are more important things.”
“Whatever. Looks like Churchboy has got himself a Churchgirl.” Boar chuckled.
Michael darkened. Boar was pushing and Michael's good humor had its limits. He tucked the picture into his pocket. “It’s not like that. I’m the only one for her. She’s already said as much. I’m tired of your insinuations and tired of the teasing, Mike.” His tone grew hostile.
At that moment, Deb walked in the door. Spotting the look on Michael’s face, she came over.
“I think that’s probably enough for one night.” She said, moving between Michael and Boar and placing her hand affectionately on Michael’s chest. “We’re all friends here. Let’s try to keep it that way.”
“Yeah, I’m just kidding you.” Said Boar. “Try not to take it too seriously.”
“I get…” Michael began angrily, but Deb grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Let it go.” She said. “It’s not worth it.”
“He teases me and I'm sick of it.”
“I heard. Boar’s voice tends to carry.” Said Deb coolly. “He can only hurt you if you let him.” She paused. "So, can I see her?"
“You are a strange one, Deborah.”
"I'd like to size up the competition."
Michael pulled out Rebecca's picture and showed it to Deborah. "Not bad. Cute. Redhead. Decent chest. Nice curves. Great legs."
"It's like you're drooling over her yourself."
"Maybe I am. Or have they not told you I go both ways?"
Michael frowned at that admission. Deborah's response surprised him. "Ah, and there's the Churchboy I remember. I missed you." She looked him in the eye. "Should I guess about what happened a couple weeks ago?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Well, either you went all the way and you're embarrassed to admit it or she turned you down. If the former, I want all the juicy details. It'll make me wet just thinking about it."
"You are unashamedly vulgar." growled Michael.
"If it's the latter, I can always offer you a consolation prize."
"You don't quit easily, do you?"
“No, because I know I have something you want.”
“No, you don’t.” said Michael, returning the photo to his pocket.
“Ah, but I do. You see, even if you scored, she's still there and I'm here. In fact, I imagine I've got a better chance now if she popped your cherry, because now you know what it's like."
"Do you really think I find you even remotely attractive?"
"You're a terrible liar, Michael. That's just weak. They all know what you really think and so do I."
“Am I that transparent?”
“You are many things, but complicated is not one of them.” She paused. “Look, I can teach you to loosen up, to take life as it comes, to enjoy yourself. You’re so afraid to let your guard down for even a minute. You’re so closed off, thinking you’re hiding behind these great walls.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know almost everything. That’s what bothers you.” She slid closer, wrapping her arms about his waist. “Just trust us. Trust me, and we can show you things that’ll blow your mind. We’ll give you the time of your life, if you let us.”
“I have everything I want. Everything I need. You offer me nothing I want.” He gave her a less-than-pleasant shove and stormed out the door.
“Indeed.” Said Deborah to herself. “We shall see.”
----
Michael came down the stairs into the basement of Thomas Hall, down to the mailboxes for the students. He was pleasantly surprised to see Karl checking his mail.
“Hey, Shadowrun tonight at BRPA.” Reminded Karl. “You coming?”
“I intend to. Why the change of venue?”
“Just trying to get some new players, maybe make some folks interested in a new or different game. I could use your help there.”
“Some of my BattleTech group will be there. I think we can talk them into a switch, at least for the night.”
“Good. Looking forward to it.”
Michael opened up his mailbox and saw a letter within. “Hey!” he exclaimed out loud.
“What is it?” inquired Karl.
“A letter from Rebecca. Second in two weeks.”
“She must really miss you.”
“Well, the last one was something. Perfume and all.” Michael ripped open the envelope and began to read.
October 14, 1992
Dear Michael,
This letter will probably come as a shock for you. But there's no easy way to say what I have to say. Things have changed since the last time I wrote.
Shawn and I were working on a lab project one night, and we got to talking. We got talking about Tommy. He's really the first person I've spoken to about what happened besides you. He was understanding and sympathetic. It was like he knew what it meant to go through all that.
One thing led to another and we started going out. We've gone out several times in these past two weeks. Things are really clicking for us. I've never had a relationship quite like this. Things are really serious between us.
Of course, you're certainly smart enough to know what this means for us. I'm sorry this is such a shock and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. You've been good to me, and you will always remain a special friend to me. But our time as a couple is over.
Rebecca
Karl reached out to touch Michael's shoulder. “You look like you just got punched in the gut.”
“I did.”
----
Michael picked at his dice as the others around him relished the fun of the Shadowrun game. He had hoped being there would provide a nice distraction from the gnawing hole in his heart, but he’d hardly spoken. Hardly done anything except show up.
Corwin was across the table from him, enjoying his new character, a street detective. Beside him was Mitch, whose luck with his dice still seemed uncanny. Their in-game mission was to track down a missing mercenary, something Michael’s character would have come in handy for, but Michael simply wasn’t into the game.
“So,” said Corwin, in-character, “what do you know about this guy?”
“Mal used to run with a group of Shadowrunners I was with,” said Karl, playing the part as he always did of the non-player characters. “but we broke up about six months ago.”
Karl was about to continue when Michael shot to his feet. The words “broke up,” even in this completely unrelated context, were simply too much for him to bear.
“I’m sorry, guys, but I’m just not with it tonight. I think I’m going home.” With that, Michael swiftly gathered his things and headed out the door.
It was a short walk up from Squires Student Center to Thomas. Michael checked his watch. It was about 8:45pm and the sun had set. With Corwin still in the game, his room would be empty and it was the perfect time to get some answers.
Michael indifferently dropped his gaming materials on the floor and headed over to the phone. He punched in Rebecca’s number from memory, his heart in his throat as he did so. Despite his terror, he knew he had to do this.
The other end picked up after only a few short rings. A familiar voice said “Hello.”
“Rebecca.” Said Michael feebly.
“Hi, Michael. I thought I might be getting this call.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I told you that in the letter.” Said Rebecca impatiently. It was obvious she did not want to discuss the matter, but courtesy kept her on the line.
“Things were going so well for us. I really thought we were…”
“Michael, the simple fact is there are a lot of things about you that I truly love, but there are some things that I don’t. I’ve given this a lot of thought since you were home last. And I’m not sure I can live with these things. There are things about you that frighten me.”
“Like what?” said Michael with a baffled tone.
“Your temper, for one. You scare me when you are angry.”
“I would never hurt you. How can you say that?”
“Yet you lash out at me from time to time. Like you did after Todd came after you at the game.”
“He’s an asshole; he’s bullied me for years. Yes, I was angry. And yes, I did snap at you. But I apologized and I thought you forgave me.” Michael paused for a moment and took a different tact. “Besides, if you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly a match for him or anyone else. Not only wouldn’t I hurt you, there’s plenty of evidence to suggest I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” Said Rebecca, stonewalling him. “You took martial arts. I’ve seen you at SCA events. You know how to fight. And I know you. Well enough to know what you’d do to me even now if we were face-to-face having this conversation.”
“You genuinely think I’d hurt you?” said Michael incredulously. These new accusations stung worse than being broken up with.
“I know you’d try, because I’m about to tell you something that I know will set you off.”
“What?”
“There’s no delicate way to put this so I’ll be blunt. Shawn and I have slept together.”
The hammer-blow feeling Michael received when he first read the letter that afternoon returned with a vengeance. “You did what?” he stammered out. “You said it was me you wanted. I thought…” Michael felt rage boil up within him, the volume of his voice rising as it did. “I SAVED MYSELF FOR YOU!” He shouted.
“See what I mean?” said Rebecca, satisfied that Michael had now made her point for her.
Michael regained his composure. “How could you?” he asked feebly.
“You’re not here. Shawn is.”
“But I love you.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” The click of her phone hanging up followed.
----
Michael wandered for hours, making circuits of Virginia Tech’s campus, trying to find some peace amidst the chaos of his feelings. It hurt. It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt. And he was angry, furious at Rebecca’s betrayal, her hypocrisy, all the broken promises.
But most of all, he felt humiliated. The last few years of his life now seemed a fool’s venture. Everything he’d done, everything he’d tried to do was folly. His compassion for her over the death of her brother. His loyalty. His faith. He now knew it had bought him nothing, and what had it cost him?
Physical weariness finally got the better of him and he sat down, slumped really, within a small copse of trees near the Duck Pond. His despair overwhelmed him and he began to cry. As the tears flowed, his thoughts moved to suicide; he began to think of death as a release from the pain. A perverse smile crossed his lips briefly. What retribution it would be if Rebecca blamed herself for his death just as she had for her brother’s?
But the vengeful thought was soon overwhelmed once more by his grief and he returned to his tears. He did not know nor did he care how long he sat there weeping. But he was not alone.
Quietly, almost respectfully, Deborah stepped out of the shadows and stood nearby. She said nothing, but merely waited for Michael to notice her arrival.
After a time, he looked up. His eyes were red from the tears and he seemed unable to focus on her at first. But after a moment, he locked eyes with her, but said nothing.
“So,” she said quietly. “it has happened.”
Michael stood up slowly, with deliberate menace. “Come to say ‘I told you so’?” He jeered angrily.
Deb gave no answer, but merely kept her gaze firmly locked on his as he tried to tower over her. Deb was certain that anything she said would set him off, regardless of what tone she took.
She spoke anyway. “Playing by the rules didn’t work.” She said matter-of-factly. “It never does.”
“Then fuck the rules!” roared Michael. He gave Deborah a hard shove, knocking her off her feet and onto the grass. “And fuck you.”
Deborah said nothing, but a small smile crossed her lips. Michael looked down at her, his temper still hot. Her legs were apart and he had full view up her mini-skirt. Deborah was wearing no panties.
His eyes darted from her crotch to her face. She was well aware of what he could see, and yet her look was oddly neutral, as if waiting for him to make the next move.
He did. He reached down and grabbed her ankles, dragging her towards him across the wet grass. As he did so, her skirt hiked up fully, exposing her completely.
“So now the armor comes off. And the real you finally emerges.” Commented Deborah as Michael fumbled with his belt. He stopped, his uncertainty returning. “DO IT!” she shouted. “DO TO ME WHAT YOU WANT TO DO TO HER!”
Michael’s face hardened. There was no more hesitation. He practically ripped off his belt and yanked his pants down. The underwear followed. His manhood was stiffened by fury and he dropped to his knees and thrust into her.
His thrusts were violent, rough, but Deborah gave no resistance. She said nothing more, no protest, no moans of pleasure, nothing. Her face returned to its odd neutrality, as if she were a mere disinterested observer of her own rape.
But she was not completely passive either. After a few minutes of Michael’s furious pounding, she reached down and pulled up the hem of her tank top, exposing her breasts. Michael took advantage and grabbed and groped at them, never slowing his pace.
His frantic rhythm soon got the better of Michael and he gave one final desperate thrust as he reached climax, emptying himself into her. In that same moment, he seemed to return to himself.
He staggered back to his feet, nearly tripping over the jeans about his ankles. His face was a mask of unbelieving horror, unable to comprehend what he had just done. Deborah lay there, her clothing disheveled, her eyes never leaving him.
“Oh, my God.” Was all he could utter. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them back up. And he tore off into the night.
Act One Chapter Four
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Well, we're off...
It looks like we're moving forward with the campaign. It's an interesting setup; using Skype for voice, some online die rollers, and the GURPS 4th Edition rules set.
I've posted a couple of background pages below. Should give the curious some meat to chew on for both plots (We're going to swap GM duties throughout the campaign to mix things up) and for character concepts.
Looking forward to this.
I've posted a couple of background pages below. Should give the curious some meat to chew on for both plots (We're going to swap GM duties throughout the campaign to mix things up) and for character concepts.
Looking forward to this.
Philadelphia by Night 2012 Dramatis Personae
(As before, spoiler alert. Some bigger spoilers here than in the history.)
Michael Allens, Prince of Philadelphia
Daeva vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced in 1991.
Power base: University of Pennsylvania, City council, Mayor’s office, various commercial enterprises.
A young prince but ambitious, Michael Allens was embraced in Blacksburg, Virginia to be a soldier in the Carthians’ war against the Lancea Sanctum. He eventually surpassed his sire and struck out for a city of his own, overthrowing the Lancea Prince of Philadelphia in 2000. He has ruled the city ever since, giving lip service to the Carthian philosophy, but largely ruling no differently than an Invictus Prince would.
Michael’s recent efforts have been focused on recovery, as his people have just come out of a nasty conflict with the city’s fae.
Rebecca Philips, Primogen
Daeva vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced in 1992, childe of Prince Michael
Power base: South Street businesses, Drug gangs
A vampire of many contradictions. Embraced in the same conflict as her sire, Rebecca switched sides for a time and fought for the Lancea Sanctum. Forced to flee when her Lancea mentor was killed, she came to Philadelphia. When Prince Michael likewise came to her city, she saw the writing on the wall and switched sides again. Now the primogen of the Carthians in Philadelphia, she is caught between those in her covenant who see her “conversion” as suspect and the Prince who she has often opposed. Despite that opposition, she is frequently his lover, with their relationship heating and cooling periodically throughout the last ten years.
Rebecca’s power base is the one most immediately threatened by the rise of Chupacabra. This has driven her closer to the Prince and to Damian, in hopes that one of them can protect her allies. A dangerous arrangement to say the least.
Damian Drake, Primogen
Ventrue vampire of the Invictus covenant, Embrace circa 1860
Power base: Police & Fire departments
Drake is something of a mystery. Once a powerful Invictus in Washington DC, he became embroiled in the war between the Carthians and Lancea Sanctum in Virginia in the mid-1990s. Ever since, he has tagged along with Prince Michael as a nominal ally. Now settled in Philadelphia, his loyalty to the Prince has slipped and now he is largely the Prince’s biggest enemy. Drake has a hatred of mages and sorcery and is known to hunt them for food in defiance of the Prince’s treaties.
Thomas Monroe, Primogen
Mekhet vampire of the Lancea Sanctum, Embrace unknown (suspected 17th century)
Power base: Evangelical churches
Monroe was the former Prince’s chief advisor and ally. After Prince Michael’s takeover, he was the only major member of the old order remaining, having bent the knee reluctantly to the new Prince. Most suspect that Monroe’s loyalty to Michael is feigned and that he has once taken up his place as the “power behind the throne.”
Paul Miller, Sherrif
Gangrel vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced 1999.
Power base: None, although has some influence over the Philadelphia werewolves.
Paul has alternated between valuable asset and dangerous liability to his Prince over the past ten years. A solid fighter, he is a kindred of divided loyalties. On one side is his Prince and the Carthian cause, on the other is his kid sister, a member of the Ganshohawanee tribe of werewolves. Juggling these two loyalties has not been easy and has made him vulnerable to influence by the Prince’s rivals or outright attack from them.
Kathleen
Ventrue vampire, unaligned. Embraced 1999.
Power base: Philadelphia Hospitals
As the childe of the infamous “Ernie,” Kathleen has proven both a boon and a foil to Prince Michael’s plans. Too young as yet to manifest the full nature of the Malkovian bloodline, she is still quite deranged however. Like her sire, she has a curious obsession with the Prince, seeking to protect and “help” him. However, said help is rarely exactly what the Prince truly desires for his plans and is often counterproductive to them.
Bernardo Sangiovanni, Primogen
Mekhet vampire of the Ordo Dracul. Embraced 1920.
Power base: Pharmaceutical businesses in Montgomery County.
Bernardo is first and foremost a businessman, one clever enough to have kept his head down and avoided major trouble through two coups for the throne. However, his neutrality may be feigned, as no other vampire in the city can call upon the financial resources that Bernardo can. He uses this leverage to call in favors beneficial to him. Thomas Monroe, Rebecca Philips, and the Prince all owe Bernardo debts for some of their financial adventurism over the last ten years.
Michael “Boar” Boorman
Ghost wolf werewolf
Power base: None. He is regarded as outcast and “untouchable” by other werewolves.
A friend of Prince Michael from his mortal days, Boar now serves as one of the Prince’s two chief bodyguards. Boar was born a werewolf, but did not discover his heritage until his early 20s. That late introduction resulted in him not adapting well to their society, and he was eventually exiled from his tribe. He now serves Michael in Philadelphia and is almost always close by the Prince’s side.
James “Mitch” Mitchell
Acanthus mage of the Mysterium order.
Power base: None, but has some influence with the local mages.
Also a friend of the Prince (and of Boar) from their days in college, Mitch awakened to his sorcerous nature when he caught in the crossfire of the Lancea-Carthian War and nearly killed. Now he serves both as a bodyguard to the Prince and as an envoy between the vampires and the mages of Philadelphia.
Tatiana, Fae queen of Philadelphia
Spring court darkling
Power base: Galleria Mall
Tatiana tried to hold her people together against the onslaught of Monroe’s Lancea vampires, and was eager to help the upstart Michael overthrow the Lancea. But many of her people were bitter and angry at the persecutions and refused to accept the peace. Now, most of her people are dead, having badly depleted the vampire population as a result. Now, the fae are licking their wounds and trying to rebuild.
Salvador Ortega, Chief of the Ganshohawanee Werewolf Tribe
Elodoth Bone Shadow
Power base: Fairmont Park
An aged werewolf, Salvador has been head of the Philadelphia werewolf tribe for nearly 30 years. During that time, he has continued the exchange of favors with the vampires that have kept the two peoples at peace with one another, often with the result of his werewolves working as enforcers for various vampires. However, young upstarts in the tribe see the vampires’ current weakness as an opportunity to rise to power. Salvador betrayed the vampires once (when he turned on Prince Walsh to support Michael Allens), so it is unknown whether he will take this opportunity to advance his own people or not. If he does not, others may take it for him.
Gretchen Mosley, Hierarch of Philadelphia
Moros mage of the Mysterium Order
Power base: Temple University, Franklin Institute
Never common, the mages of Philadelphia have mostly to themselves, focusing on research of the mysteries of the universe. However, with the other powers weakened in the city, their ambitious new hierarch may be interested in a different kind of study, one the fae and vampires may regret.
Chupacabra
Unknown
The Mexican drug gangs have infiltrated Philadelphia and are now at war with the local criminal element. They are led by a mysterious figure named for the legendary Mexican monster. No one knows exactly who or what Chupacabra is, although the blood-sucking nature of his namesake leads most to think he (or she) is a vampire. But what is known is that his gangs are highly effective and are rapidly taking over the drug and vice market throughout the city, much to the chagrin of the local supernaturals.
Michael Allens, Prince of Philadelphia
Daeva vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced in 1991.
Power base: University of Pennsylvania, City council, Mayor’s office, various commercial enterprises.
A young prince but ambitious, Michael Allens was embraced in Blacksburg, Virginia to be a soldier in the Carthians’ war against the Lancea Sanctum. He eventually surpassed his sire and struck out for a city of his own, overthrowing the Lancea Prince of Philadelphia in 2000. He has ruled the city ever since, giving lip service to the Carthian philosophy, but largely ruling no differently than an Invictus Prince would.
Michael’s recent efforts have been focused on recovery, as his people have just come out of a nasty conflict with the city’s fae.
Rebecca Philips, Primogen
Daeva vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced in 1992, childe of Prince Michael
Power base: South Street businesses, Drug gangs
A vampire of many contradictions. Embraced in the same conflict as her sire, Rebecca switched sides for a time and fought for the Lancea Sanctum. Forced to flee when her Lancea mentor was killed, she came to Philadelphia. When Prince Michael likewise came to her city, she saw the writing on the wall and switched sides again. Now the primogen of the Carthians in Philadelphia, she is caught between those in her covenant who see her “conversion” as suspect and the Prince who she has often opposed. Despite that opposition, she is frequently his lover, with their relationship heating and cooling periodically throughout the last ten years.
Rebecca’s power base is the one most immediately threatened by the rise of Chupacabra. This has driven her closer to the Prince and to Damian, in hopes that one of them can protect her allies. A dangerous arrangement to say the least.
Damian Drake, Primogen
Ventrue vampire of the Invictus covenant, Embrace circa 1860
Power base: Police & Fire departments
Drake is something of a mystery. Once a powerful Invictus in Washington DC, he became embroiled in the war between the Carthians and Lancea Sanctum in Virginia in the mid-1990s. Ever since, he has tagged along with Prince Michael as a nominal ally. Now settled in Philadelphia, his loyalty to the Prince has slipped and now he is largely the Prince’s biggest enemy. Drake has a hatred of mages and sorcery and is known to hunt them for food in defiance of the Prince’s treaties.
Thomas Monroe, Primogen
Mekhet vampire of the Lancea Sanctum, Embrace unknown (suspected 17th century)
Power base: Evangelical churches
Monroe was the former Prince’s chief advisor and ally. After Prince Michael’s takeover, he was the only major member of the old order remaining, having bent the knee reluctantly to the new Prince. Most suspect that Monroe’s loyalty to Michael is feigned and that he has once taken up his place as the “power behind the throne.”
Paul Miller, Sherrif
Gangrel vampire of the Carthian covenant, Embraced 1999.
Power base: None, although has some influence over the Philadelphia werewolves.
Paul has alternated between valuable asset and dangerous liability to his Prince over the past ten years. A solid fighter, he is a kindred of divided loyalties. On one side is his Prince and the Carthian cause, on the other is his kid sister, a member of the Ganshohawanee tribe of werewolves. Juggling these two loyalties has not been easy and has made him vulnerable to influence by the Prince’s rivals or outright attack from them.
Kathleen
Ventrue vampire, unaligned. Embraced 1999.
Power base: Philadelphia Hospitals
As the childe of the infamous “Ernie,” Kathleen has proven both a boon and a foil to Prince Michael’s plans. Too young as yet to manifest the full nature of the Malkovian bloodline, she is still quite deranged however. Like her sire, she has a curious obsession with the Prince, seeking to protect and “help” him. However, said help is rarely exactly what the Prince truly desires for his plans and is often counterproductive to them.
Bernardo Sangiovanni, Primogen
Mekhet vampire of the Ordo Dracul. Embraced 1920.
Power base: Pharmaceutical businesses in Montgomery County.
Bernardo is first and foremost a businessman, one clever enough to have kept his head down and avoided major trouble through two coups for the throne. However, his neutrality may be feigned, as no other vampire in the city can call upon the financial resources that Bernardo can. He uses this leverage to call in favors beneficial to him. Thomas Monroe, Rebecca Philips, and the Prince all owe Bernardo debts for some of their financial adventurism over the last ten years.
Michael “Boar” Boorman
Ghost wolf werewolf
Power base: None. He is regarded as outcast and “untouchable” by other werewolves.
A friend of Prince Michael from his mortal days, Boar now serves as one of the Prince’s two chief bodyguards. Boar was born a werewolf, but did not discover his heritage until his early 20s. That late introduction resulted in him not adapting well to their society, and he was eventually exiled from his tribe. He now serves Michael in Philadelphia and is almost always close by the Prince’s side.
James “Mitch” Mitchell
Acanthus mage of the Mysterium order.
Power base: None, but has some influence with the local mages.
Also a friend of the Prince (and of Boar) from their days in college, Mitch awakened to his sorcerous nature when he caught in the crossfire of the Lancea-Carthian War and nearly killed. Now he serves both as a bodyguard to the Prince and as an envoy between the vampires and the mages of Philadelphia.
Tatiana, Fae queen of Philadelphia
Spring court darkling
Power base: Galleria Mall
Tatiana tried to hold her people together against the onslaught of Monroe’s Lancea vampires, and was eager to help the upstart Michael overthrow the Lancea. But many of her people were bitter and angry at the persecutions and refused to accept the peace. Now, most of her people are dead, having badly depleted the vampire population as a result. Now, the fae are licking their wounds and trying to rebuild.
Salvador Ortega, Chief of the Ganshohawanee Werewolf Tribe
Elodoth Bone Shadow
Power base: Fairmont Park
An aged werewolf, Salvador has been head of the Philadelphia werewolf tribe for nearly 30 years. During that time, he has continued the exchange of favors with the vampires that have kept the two peoples at peace with one another, often with the result of his werewolves working as enforcers for various vampires. However, young upstarts in the tribe see the vampires’ current weakness as an opportunity to rise to power. Salvador betrayed the vampires once (when he turned on Prince Walsh to support Michael Allens), so it is unknown whether he will take this opportunity to advance his own people or not. If he does not, others may take it for him.
Gretchen Mosley, Hierarch of Philadelphia
Moros mage of the Mysterium Order
Power base: Temple University, Franklin Institute
Never common, the mages of Philadelphia have mostly to themselves, focusing on research of the mysteries of the universe. However, with the other powers weakened in the city, their ambitious new hierarch may be interested in a different kind of study, one the fae and vampires may regret.
Chupacabra
Unknown
The Mexican drug gangs have infiltrated Philadelphia and are now at war with the local criminal element. They are led by a mysterious figure named for the legendary Mexican monster. No one knows exactly who or what Chupacabra is, although the blood-sucking nature of his namesake leads most to think he (or she) is a vampire. But what is known is that his gangs are highly effective and are rapidly taking over the drug and vice market throughout the city, much to the chagrin of the local supernaturals.
Philadelphia by Night 2012 Background History
(Some mild spoilers for the later, as yet unpublished, chapters of the fan fiction)
Supernatural History of Philadelphia
To say that politics in Philadelphia is chaotic in recent years would be an understatement. But it was once one of the more stable territories in the United States. Its earliest years saw the city under the control of an alliance of Lenape werewolves and a cabal of “heretic” mages who had fled to Pennsylvania from Europe. Just prior to the revolution, the city grew large enough to hold a vampire population. A Carthian vampire was elected Prince in 1755 and made alliance with the werewolves and mages.
Carthian rule was short-lived. Philadelphia’s fae population saw the vampires as a threat and used the battles of the American Revolution to wage their own war against the Kindred. Weakened, the Carthian leadership was usurped by the Invictus faction and a new Prince came to power. This Prince, Cecil Baird, defeated the fae and established the primacy of the kindred in Philadelphia.
This would last for over 150 years. But in the late 1960s, the Lancea Sanctum overthrew Prince Cecil Baird. The Lancea were led by Elias Walsh and Thomas Monroe. With control of the mortal police and an alliance with the garou, Walsh and Monroe began to systematically eradicate most of the other supernaturals in the city, especially the fae.
South of Philadelphia, an alliance of Invictus and Carthians had defeated the Lancea Sanctum vampires in Virginia. Flush with their victories, a number of these vampires headed north to Philadelphia. Led by Michael Allens, they subverted the Lancea’s werewolf allies and pledged peace to the remaining mages and fae. In doing so, the Lancea Sanctum was overthrown and Prince Walsh killed.
Since then, Michael Allens has ruled Philadelphia. Although young, he has already had to fend off threats to his rule from vengeful fae and rival vampires. The most recent crisis was just two years ago, when a number of fae defied their queen to avenge themselves on the vampires for decades of persecution. The resulting conflict was brief, but has badly depleted the populations of both peoples.
Now the city is threatened from within and without. With the fae and vampire populations weakened, the mages and werewolves are reconsidering their old alliances. Plus, a new power is rising, masked behind brutal immigrant drug lords from Mexico.
Supernatural History of Philadelphia
To say that politics in Philadelphia is chaotic in recent years would be an understatement. But it was once one of the more stable territories in the United States. Its earliest years saw the city under the control of an alliance of Lenape werewolves and a cabal of “heretic” mages who had fled to Pennsylvania from Europe. Just prior to the revolution, the city grew large enough to hold a vampire population. A Carthian vampire was elected Prince in 1755 and made alliance with the werewolves and mages.
Carthian rule was short-lived. Philadelphia’s fae population saw the vampires as a threat and used the battles of the American Revolution to wage their own war against the Kindred. Weakened, the Carthian leadership was usurped by the Invictus faction and a new Prince came to power. This Prince, Cecil Baird, defeated the fae and established the primacy of the kindred in Philadelphia.
This would last for over 150 years. But in the late 1960s, the Lancea Sanctum overthrew Prince Cecil Baird. The Lancea were led by Elias Walsh and Thomas Monroe. With control of the mortal police and an alliance with the garou, Walsh and Monroe began to systematically eradicate most of the other supernaturals in the city, especially the fae.
South of Philadelphia, an alliance of Invictus and Carthians had defeated the Lancea Sanctum vampires in Virginia. Flush with their victories, a number of these vampires headed north to Philadelphia. Led by Michael Allens, they subverted the Lancea’s werewolf allies and pledged peace to the remaining mages and fae. In doing so, the Lancea Sanctum was overthrown and Prince Walsh killed.
Since then, Michael Allens has ruled Philadelphia. Although young, he has already had to fend off threats to his rule from vengeful fae and rival vampires. The most recent crisis was just two years ago, when a number of fae defied their queen to avenge themselves on the vampires for decades of persecution. The resulting conflict was brief, but has badly depleted the populations of both peoples.
Now the city is threatened from within and without. With the fae and vampire populations weakened, the mages and werewolves are reconsidering their old alliances. Plus, a new power is rising, masked behind brutal immigrant drug lords from Mexico.
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