Act Three Chapter Title Explanation

Well, we're due for this with the last chapters of Act Three going up earlier today...

It's No Good by Depeche Mode

My hands down favorite track from De'Mode and the third track from Ultra that shows up as a chapter title in Philly by Night. Only real reason I chose it is because I like and decided that Michael would play it in his band in this chapter.

And We Danced by Hooters

Hooters is a quintessential Philadelphia rock band from the 1980s. Seeing as the first two chapters of the act are playing catch-up with the time gap between Acts Two and Three, this song is, like the previous chapter, mostly just a fluff choice. It fits the Philly environment nicely.

All the Things She Said by TATU

This one is a little anachronistic, since it was released in 2002, but given the rep of this Russian band as "lipstick lesbians," it fit nicely with Sarah's exploration of her sexuality now that she's a part of Michael and Rebecca's "trinity."

Something in the Air Tonight by Phil Collins

Oh, yeah. Cliche as hell, but still this track is just so cool (even if Phil has not quite the artist he was in Genesis' heyday.) It helps set the mood as the main characters start to realize just how big things really are when it comes to the Dark Brotherhood and who (or more accurately what) is behind them.

Gangster's Paradise by Coolio

I really don't like rap. There are very few rap songs that I like. All that said, I LOVE this track. It fits nicely as Michael begins to expand his criminal empire through the city.

Spirits in the Material World by the Police

Spirit magic is at the heart of this chapter as the main characters race to unlock the secrets of the Brotherhood's new weapon. So, of course, we go to this Police song for our chapter title.

A View to a Kill by Duran Duran

Stealing a James Bond song, the title is really where I found the appeal of this track for this chapter. Given how many people die in this chapter, it seems fitting.

Of Wolf and Man by Metallica & Wolf Moon by Type O Negative

Two chapters back to back that focus on Boar's efforts to use the werewolves to help Michael's ambitions. So we got two wolf themed songs back to back.

Creep by Radiohead

I've been playing coy to some degree with Michael's predatory sexuality. In this chapter, we really confront this ugly element of his character and seek to establish the boundaries of where he will or won't go. Radiohead's song is a perfect description of Michael here. He is a creep, but he's trying to not be quite as creepy as some of his allies (e.g. Monroe.)

Sister of Night by Depeche Mode

Our fourth and final Depeche Mode song from Ultra, this song is about Ai'ma.

The House of the Rising Sun by The Animals

This old classic is about a house of ill repute in New Orleans. Our chapter is about the Tong prostitution ring and Michael's attempted takeover thereof. Given that the phrase "Rising Sun" makes me think Asian (albeit towards Japanese culture rather than the Chinese of the Tongs in the story), it's a nice fit for this chapter.

The Sorcerer's Pledge by Candlemass

This somewhat obscure song fits nicely with Zao finally giving his consent and presence to an attack on the Brotherhood. He is a sorcerer making a pledge to support Michael's assault.

Hotel California by The Eagles

Long misinterpreted to be some manner of satanic tribute, Hotel California is really about the music industry. But I don't care about the truth here, I'd rather go with the misread for our purposes. The Hell Hotel really is a place "you can check out anytime you like, but can never leave."

Carmina Burana: O Fortuna by Carl Orff

I normally do pop or rock songs as chapter titles. But this piece of classical music (which is super overused in modern film) is too fitting here. The whole operatic song that makes up this track is an ode to the whimsies of fate. Given Zao's destiny at the hands of the Brotherhood, it was too fitting not to use. It's really haunting and it fits also with the atmosphere inside the nightmarish Hell Hotel.

Bloodflowers by the Cure

Off of The Cure's late 90s masterpiece album of the same name, this song is all about the capriciousness of life and death. Michael wins a huge victory, but at what cost? So many dead. Was it worth it?

Well, moving right along...

Act Three of Philly by Night is finally done and posted. Now for the climax as Michael makes his final moves on Prince Walsh and his allies. Of course, there are a lot of loose ends: Ernie, David, Monroe, and (of course) Michael and his own predilections. What will happen next?

Well, I'm working on it. I've had some serious personal shit go down lately. Spent a week in a hospital. Had a month off work to recover. Spent a good bit of it watching the new Marvel TV series on Netflix, Luke Cage.

If you haven't checked it out, you should. It's really good.

It's also helping me with a bit of a problem I've had with my narrative. Philly is a majority-minority city and it has been for a while. I'm just some white dude who likes vampires and the city of Philadelphia. I grew up in rich people's neighborhoods, so I don't really know squat about inner city life. But I want to make the story have some feeling of authenticity. Only way to do that is to give the narrative some color, some street, and I've got a lot of work to do to pull that off.

So I'm doing some revamps of the story to bring in some elements similar to Luke Cage. Hope that'll give the story some meat along with the primary narrative. Hope you like the end results.

Act Three Chapter Sixteen - Bloodflowers

The lights of the city reflected off the calm waters of the Schuylkill River as the late evening traffic raced up and down Kelly Drive. Michael stood by silently as, one by one, his companions lit candles, placed them within small boats, and took them down to the river bank.

Behind them, her voice firm, Sarah began to read off the names each boat represented. “Cortez Molina, Marcellius Myers, Jaclyn Butler, Bryce Rush, Julia Snow, Mikail Primakov, Scorpion Miller, Sabrina Savage, Anton Le Rouge...”

Werewolves, mages, TFV hunters, a vampire, all had given their lives to defeat the Dark Brotherhood. The enormity of it weighed heavily on Michael. They’d fought battles before against powerful enemies. But never had they wracked up a body count like this. Never had so many given so much for Michael’s schemes, however well-intentioned.

Sarah finished the list. “...Martin Lovejoy, Nicole Hurst, Balthazaar Murray, Thaddius Zao.”

There was a long quiet pause as the list concluded. Michael stepped forward. “These allies and friends gave all that they had for the sake of the future. The Dark Brotherhood has long cast its shadow upon this city, murdering and pillaging with impunity. It has made alliances with dark eldritch powers beyond our world, with elements of our world of darkness, and with ambitious mortals who seek beyond their grasp. But thanks to their sacrifice, the work of the Brotherhood has come undone. Their headquarters burned to the ground. Most of their number dead. Their schemes, for the time being, thwarted.”

Michael looked over the assembled crowd. Of those who’d joined his coalition, only the mages of the Consilium were absent. (They had chosen to hold their own memorial in Chinatown for Zao and their fallen.) Alex’ TFV squad, Boar’s entire pack, along with Michael’s coterie of vampires were present. Standing with Mitch was another very-welcome visitor, Anna Tate.

“The work isn’t done though.” Michael continued. “Regulus Noble escaped, as did Flame Santiago. The two of them still pose a significant threat. Others of the Brotherhood were absent the night we struck Hell Hotel. While only a handful now, they could rebuild and rise again to plague our city anew. We cannot let that happen.

“There are also the rumors. The hints. The clues. The investigations that brought many of us to Philadelphia in the first place. Unanswered questions. What were they planning? What do the communication satellites of the Comcast corporation have to do with it? Their alliance with the vampire prince. What does it mean? Who was pulling the strings? What was it that Flame was so desperate to retrieve from that statue before he fled? What purpose does it serve? These questions vex me, worry me. Is there enough left of the Brotherhood to still carry out their plans? I fear it may be so.

“Diligence has become our duty. Whatever else we live these nights for, finishing the work our beloved friends and allies gave their lives for must take precedence. The Brotherhood must be destroyed entirely. It’s only legacy a memory on the minds of wizard, vampire, and werewolf alike. To this task, I dedicate myself and I hope you will be with me.

“Our friends’ sacrifice cannot be in vain. We must finish what we started.” With that, Michael fell silent.

Alex barked a few second later. “Company, present arms.” Mariah, Isaac, and himself pulled the ceremonial M1 rifles from their side and fired a salute across the river. “Company, dismissed.”

With the end of the military ceremony, the group began to relax somewhat. Michael went to Alex. “There is a certain comfort that comes with the familiar. The rifle salute for a fallen veteran, even if only one of our number qualifies.”

“Actually, we have a service record for Scorpion Miller, so two.” said Alex. “Still, good speech.”

“That nightmare we all endured has to mean something.”

“It does. You’re right. This is a new beginning. The Brotherhood no longer threatens this city.”

“We’re not done.” Michael repeated.

“Oh, I know.”

“Any fallout from defying Mr. Drake?”

“I’m not worried about him. He’s probably kicking himself for revealing his ruse to us. Knowing that he’s one of you gives us some leverage. I’ll be keeping a very close eye on any future assignments from him, presuming he calls upon us at all.”

“And if I call on you?”

“I doubt you’d abuse the privilege. Something about the common experience of hell that makes trust easier.”

“I’m sorry about Mikail.”

“He understood the risks. He died doing his duty. But thanks. He will be missed.” Alex paused. “And I’m sorry about your...what’s the word...childe.”

Michael nodded. Alex continued. “Well, farewell, Michael Allens. I doubt this will be the last time we cross paths.” With that, Alex and the rest of the TFV group took their leave.

Michael turned and headed over to where Anna was standing with Mitch. “Glad you came, Anna.” said Michael.

She nodded but said nothing.

“This is what he wanted.” said Michael, referring to Martin. “The destruction of the Brotherhood. It was his hope and goal for the Consilium and we made it happen.”

“It was kind of you to include him among the fallen at Hell Hotel, but we all know who really killed him.”

“I am as much to blame for his death as you.” Michael admitted. “I was the one that pushed the two of you into researching magic that was beyond you. His blood is on my hands as well, perhaps even more than your own. You did not choose to land the killing blow; that was the beast that took control of you. But I did choose to give you a task for which you were not capable.”

“It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Michael shrugged and began to walk away. Mitch chased after him.

“She’s always like that. Don’t let it get to you.”

“I told the truth. I did...”

“You demand a lot from all of us, Michael, including yourself. After seeing what I saw in the Hell Hotel, I now understand what the stakes really were. This isn’t a world we live in that’s all flowers and rainbows. People like the Brotherhood exist. They are truly monsters and the only thing that can stop them is people like us. Winning the throne by saving the city is a good strategy, Michael. We’re with you.”

Mitch paused and then continued. “I like that you added Murray into the list as well. We both know what had to be done there.”

“If the truth ever comes out....”

“It won’t. The victors have written the history.” Mitch gave Michael a pat on the back. “We took a few licks, but we won. Don’t forget that in the midst of this memorial. We beat them. This is as much cause for celebration as it is mourning.”

“There will be fallout.”

“I don’t doubt it, but let’s worry about that another night.”

Michael hiked up the stairs to where Paul, Kathleen, and Janice were standing. Paul and his sister both had a frown on their faces.

“We could have helped. Might have made that list a lot shorter.” Paul grumbled.

“Or made it all the longer.” retorted Michael. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Paul, but attacking with such a large group was probably a misstep on our part. Our numbers didn’t count for much inside. The Brotherhood found ways to divide us or make our size count against us.”

“How are we going to prove ourselves to you if you don’t give us a chance?”

“The last time I gave someone a chance to prove themselves to me, a mage got possessed by a demon and tore her lover to pieces. I wouldn’t put too much stock in my judgment in that regard.” Michael looked at the three of them. “Your moment will come. But it’s probably better that I be surprised by it than dictate it to you.”

Paul shrugged. He was not satisfied with the answer, but it was the best Michael could offer with the mood he was in. The trio walked off and left Michael by himself.

Sarah walked over.

“I still haven’t heard an explanation as to why you chose to follow us inside.” Michael growled.

“These proceedings would be a lot more reverent if you weren’t so determined to be such an ass to everyone afterwards.” she snapped in reply without meeting his eyes.

Michael opened his mouth to offer a retort, but Sarah cut him off. “I knew you wouldn’t let me in if I just asked. I have no combat skills to offer such a group. I’m not a fighter. But Emmanuel raped me and I wanted a piece of him. So I followed you without you knowing.”

“Revealed some skills I didn’t know you had.”

“I am a childe of Ernie and I carry his blood. As I grow stronger and older, I begin to manifest some of his power.”

“You’ve never talked much about what Emmanuel did to you that night.”

“There’s a reason for that. Sure, I’ve been ‘raped’ dozens of times while hunting. I have a submissive masochistic streak, as you well know. But I was always in control in those circumstances. I was still in power. What Emmanuel did to me was different. He took away my power. Made me helpless and I was not about to let him get away with that.”

“And you shared none of these feelings with me?”

“Michael, I love you and I know you. If I had told you the depth of my injury, you’d have just gone off to avenge me. In the rotunda battle, I saw you hesitate between fighting Flame and fighting Emmanuel. You chose Flame, which was the right choice. Someone of his strength needed to be matched by yours. But if you’d played the gallant, you’d have gone for Emmanuel and that might have proven disastrous. Besides, I don’t need you to fight this battle for me. I needed to fight it myself, on my terms. He took my power and then I took his. And now he’s dead...by my hand. As it should be.”

Slightly revisionist, since it was Mitch’s bullet that finished Emmanuel. Michael thought to himself. But that was a minor point in the scheme of things. This was much bigger to Sarah than Michael had ever realized. He looked crestfallen as the epiphany dawned. “I’m ashamed to admit I’ve completely underestimated you. This is a side of you I never knew existed. I’ve seen you fight before. Sloppy, unskilled, and that’s what I thought you were capable of. This is different. Methodical, ruthless, determined; I’m not sure whether to admire you or be terrified of you.”

“I’ll take admiration, my love.” Sarah met his eyes and smiled, breaking the tension between them. “And I’ll give you even more to admire me for. I didn’t just dig out Emmanuel’s greatest fears. I found other things inside that head of his.” She paused dramatically. “Like what those satellites are for.”

---

Sarah set up an easel with newsprint as the others gathered around Michael’s office. She began by drawing a large circle in the middle of the paper.

“As we know, over the last several years, Comcast was building a new series of six communications satellites. We know this because while the satellites were being constructed at Langley in Tidewater, certain vampires were showing inordinate interest in them, which tipped off TFV, who tipped off us, all of which eventually led, at least partially, to our relocating to Philadelphia.”

Sarah drew six dots around the circle on the newsprint in a hexagonal shape. “Those satellites have since launched and have taken up these positions in orbit over the planet, allowing Comcast to receive television and internet signal from all over the world. Great investment for a growing company. Paul, you were a Comcast employee as a mortal and your sire had you checking these satellites out in detail. Did you find anything?”

“No,” Paul answered. “And neither did he. They’re just ordinary communications satellites. State of the art, very advanced, but for a rather mundane function. To broadcast and receive cable television from around the world.”

“And that’s what everyone’s meant to think, but the parabolic dishes of each satellite are mirrored. That’s not usually necessary when receiving microwave signal, correct?”

“Not necessary at all.”

“So why was it done?” Sarah wrote the word “sun” at the top of the newsprint and then drew a line from it to the first satellite, bounced the line to a second, a third, and then to the one on the bottom of the illustration.

“Holy shit, they’re going to use it to bring sunlight around the planet from the other side of the world.” said Boar.

Paul groaned. “They stole that from that horrible Batman movie from a few years ago.”

“Regardless of its source, the idea of a sunlight cannon is terrifying. They could zap anyone of us at any time.”

“They call it the ‘light of God,’ which struck me odd for a weapon being used by a bunch of devil worshipping infernalists.” said Sarah.

“So this is how Walsh intends to kill Monroe.” mused Michael. “He’ll flood the island with sunlight in the middle of the night. Monroe goes poof! And with such a weapon at his disposal, no other vampire in the city would dare oppose him.”

“But we learned this from a Brotherhood mage.” noted Mitch. “What do they have to do with this? There’s got to be a connection of some sort.”

“Maybe the Comcast CEO is a Raven Society member.” speculated Solomon.

“Or there’s more to this than just a vampire nuking cannon.” said Rebecca. “You said the satellites are already up there, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And Monroe is still alive. As are we.”

“So Walsh is waiting to use his toy.” inferred Michael, “but why?”

“Ma’atia’to is the easy answer. It has something to do with the Brotherhood’s demon patron.” said Mitch.

“An answer with no substance or context, but technically correct.” said Sarah. “Ma’atia’to is a spirit of murder from what we know and it will hunger for murder.”

“Could the sunlight be intense enough to harm humans?” offered Paul. “Light of God and all, fire and brimstone from the sky come down to smite sinners.”

“You’ve seen the specs of the satellites. What do you think?”

Paul thought for a moment. “Probably not. Too much atmosphere to pass through. The beam would become too diffuse. At its most intense, it might blind, but certainly not burn.” He paused. “Not a human anyway.”

“But you may be onto something.” speculated Michael. “An angelic figure, a beam of light from the sky, a command to smite sinners, and a human population ripe with hysteria over Y2K and the end of the world. That’s a formula for blood in the streets.”

“An orgy of murder for a god of murder.” whistled Rebecca.

“And everybody gets what they want. Walsh gets his weapon to destroy Monroe. The Brotherhood gets their death and destruction across the city.”

“And with the Gauntlet as weak as it will be that night, that probably means Ma’atia’to manifest in the real world.” added Boar. “You want end of the world hysteria? Here’s the Beast of the fucking Apocalypse walking down Market Street!”

“This is crazy.” added Kathleen. “Do we really think this is what they’re trying to do? This sounds like something out of a bad Christian novel. All we need is the Antichrist and we’ve got the full set of tropes.”

“I’d say the same,” said Michael. “but we’re vampires and werewolves and wizards. We just fought a battle against ghosts and demonic beasts with a group of wizards for whom this stuff is VERY real. We don’t know what they’re planning. But this fits their pattern as well as anything.”

“Increases the urgency of destroying them utterly.” said Solomon. “We’ve got about six months before New Year's Eve. That helps.”

“We have a lot of work to do.”

---

Elias Walsh looked out over the city from the balcony of his haven. The red neon of the giant PSFS sign behind him gave everything an eerie glow. He heard the entrance of two people behind them, both mortals, both agitated in mood.

“I was wondering when I would receive a visit.” said Elias. “I’ve been reading the news reports. Raven Society implicated in funding international terrorism. Government agents fight horrific battle at the old Divine Lorraine. Major fire destroys the evidence. Terrible scandal.”

“All thanks to one of yours.” growled Regulus.

“His name is Michael Allens and he’s just a piss ant.”

“That piss ant put together a coalition of hunters, wolves, vampires, and wizards that killed over a dozen of our people. You underestimate him...badly.” snarled Regulus.

Elias shrugged.

“It’s past time you made use of that weapon of yours.” added Flame. “Burn the fucker where he lives.”

“You two both know why we can’t do that.” said Elias dismissively. “If the Light of God is seen before its debut, then it will no power to trick the masses. The stagecraft of what we intend on New Years Eve must be flawless. It must be believed to be something miraculous, not a mere mechanism of technology. Of course, if you don’t care about any of that and you wish to break the agreement that we made with one another....”

“No,” said Regulus firmly. “The plan goes forward. It’s what my brother wanted. It’s what Ma’atia’to wills.”

Elias was enjoying this. After playing second fiddle to Regulus for so long, it was now obvious the game had shifted. He decided to twist the knife a little. “Just try to keep a low profile, Regulus. Provoking Allens is never a smart move.”

“Are you claiming we brought this on ourselves?” Regulus growled angrily.

“Your brother did rape his woman, did he not?” said Elias with a smug grin. “And Flame, you did kidnap three of his whores? I’ve learned myself, he does hit back.”

“You are the vampire prince.”

“I do not need a reminder of my authority, mage. Unlike your conveniently dualistic political division among your people, I must juggle the disparate goals and ambitions of a half dozen or more. Allens is one piece of the puzzle, an increasingly large one, but still only one piece. I commit too much to destroy him and others will smell weakness.”

“Like Monroe.”

“Hence why this must all fall into place at once. We created a good plan, one that will give all of us everything we want. WE STICK TO THE PLAN.”

Regulus kept silence this time and Elias was satisfied he’d won this round, perhaps the first of many to come. It felt good no longer being the junior partner in this conspiracy. “As for petty revenge, there are a few things I can do to make life more difficult for Mr. Allens. I had been considering them for some time anyway. Perhaps it is time to implement a plan or two. But don’t be expecting me to squash this bug just yet. He’ll go down with the rest on Y2K.”

“And what are we to do in the meantime?” growled Flame, stepping towards Walsh aggressively clearly unsatisfied.. Regulus intervened and stopped him.

“We’re not without options, Santiago.” said Regulus, his voice urgent but hushed. “Let our peacock Prince prance about on our misfortune. There are souls to be harvested. An old spell, used judiciously, and we can rebuild something of our number.”

He snapped his fingers. A wraith materialized beside him, then solidified in the form of Dimitrius, the Raven Society butler. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Trueblood?”

Dimitrius’s visage flickered for a moment, taking on the aspect of a 17th century colonist for the briefest of moments before returning to its usual shape. “You asked for me, master?”

End of Act Three
Next Act

Act Three Chapter Fifteen - Carmina Burana: O Fortuna

Dimitrius moved briskly into Regulus’ lab. The elder mage was gathering up as much material from his magical research as he could: papers, books, diagrams, computer disks, and anything else he thought he could easily transport.

“The traps didn’t stop them.” said Regulus without waiting for Dimitrius’ report.

“Many are dead, but many still survive.” said the butler. “They are proving most resourceful.”

“Those traps and spells should have killed the lot of them. They’re mages and mortals. Nothing more.”

“Not exactly.”

“Excuse me?”

“They appear to have werewolves and vampires among their number, sir. And a group of very resourceful paramilitary commandos.”

“Sleepers?” queried Regulus in disbelief.

“Hunters.”

“Damn Zao.” Swore Regulus. “He’s hitting us with a damned army.”

“Don’t act so surprised. Did you really think he’d come after us alone?” said Emmanuel entering the room.

“Where is the helicopter?” barked Regulus.

“En route. Presuming these hunters allow it to pass. They’ve got the Philadelphia police to close off the roads. No doubt they’ll be able to track its approach and departure.”

“Government hunters.” growled Regulus. “That may work to our benefit here. Let them have the mortals. The Raven Society can take the fall and we can go back underground until the ritual.”

“The battle’s not over yet, brother. They’ve yet to face the Brotherhood.”

“I don’t want to risk open battle with the ritual only months away. Even our sanctum is expendable.”

“I don’t think we have a choice anymore. You need not fear. I’ve made all the proper preparations. Time to see what our little cadre of infernalists can do.”

---

Zao emerged from the stairwell and scanned about. There was no sign of the other intruders; he and his mages were alone.

“They’ve separated us.” said Mosely nervously.

“Perhaps the others are dead.” mused Reginald Skelmsdale.

“No, I can sense them, Reg. They live.” said another mage, tapping his temple. “Although not all of them.”

“Fell prey to traps like Sabrina.” said Zao. “Can you sense the Brotherhood, Mr. Miller?”

Miller concentrated. “Vaguely. The spatial nature of this place is askew. They’ve taken full advantage of its sanctum nature. We’re on the same floor as our allies, and yet not. Our enemies may be here with us and yet elsewhere.”

“A fucking maze of mirrors.” said Mosely.

“Reality is what you make it, as you well know.” said Zao, unperturbed. “In a place like this, it is malleable as putty.” He paused to assess his companions. “That works in our favor as well. Don’t forget it.”

Zao moved onward into what appeared to be a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

“Smells good.” mused Skelmsdale.

“Only if you don’t know what it is. That’s not a beef roast in the middle.” Zao pointed out. Skelmsdale looked closer and saw the half-carved torso of a human male in the center of the table.

“Cannibals. They’re fucking cannibals.” said Mosely. She glared hard at Zao. “You knew this. All along, you knew what they were doing here.”

“Of course I did.” said Zao defensively. “They were my apprentices before they fell to evil. I know a lot more. All manner of depravity takes place under the Brotherhood’s watch. If you knew what I know of what they’re capable of, your blood would freeze in your veins.”

“That’s no excuse. You permitted this for decades.”

“Enough!” barked Zao loudly. “They are the stronger and always have been. You all think me a coward, but it was for your sake that I stayed my hand against this madness. We lacked the strength to stop it. Attacking before would have been suicide and then where would we be? No light of knowledge and virtue at all in this city for the Awakened. All mages would be fodder for the Brotherhood.

“My fate is sealed. By coming here, I have doomed myself. But once you are leader of our people, Gretchen, you must think beyond yourself. Evil is always about. If the Brotherhood dies tonight with me, then something else will emerge in the future. You can bet on that.”

---

Alex McCoid swept the hallway with his flashlight. No sign of movement. “Clear.” He called out and moved forward. His team moved up behind him, followed by Solomon and Julia.

“Not sure how we ended up with two of them.” mused Mariah Kingsley.

“I don’t mind. A little extra muscle is probably a good thing.” said Alex. He moved to the pair of double doors and pulled them open.

The room was a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

“This stuff must cost a fortune.” whistled Julia in disbelief.

“It does.” said a voice.

Flame Santiago and two other mages stepped forward from the back of the room. Alex opened fire with his L85, but Flame raised his hand and the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off some invisible barrier. “Nice try, hunter.”

Flame raised his other hand and a bolt of kinetic energy hurled out of it. It slammed Alex in the chest and flung him against the back wall. Mikail let out a loud cry and opened fire with his rifle. Again the bullets glanced off and one of Flame’s companions stepped forward. The woman mage launched into a high kick that hurled her across the room and right into the big Russian; no normal human could jump that far like that.

“Guns are useless. Get close!” said Solomon, taking command of the situation. He rushed forward with vampiric speed towards Flame, but the mage proved just as swift. He deftly dodged Solomon’s charge and then parried the swings of his fists.

Solomon quickly grew frustrated as he tried to land a blow. He felt slow, sluggish, and he suspected the veteran mage was draining his blows of their energy. Flame parried each strike and then landed a powerful strike to Solomon’s midsection. The big Gangrel went tumbling backwards.

“You’re not the first vampire I’ve fought. And you won’t be the last.” boasted Flame, drawing his sword.

Mikail came to his feet and cut loose with several strikes, remembering well his Sambo training in the Russian military. The woman mage parried his blows; she was clearly a trained martial artist in her own right. But the fight was far less one sided than the battle between Solomon and Flame, so she gave ground before the former Spetsnaz soldier.

Mariah rushed over to Alex and pulled him to his feet. He was winded but mostly uninjured. “Thank God for ballistic vests.” He panted. “That was like taking a sledgehammer to the chest.”

“We’re not done, hunters.” said the third Brotherhood mage, stepping forward confidently in challenge.

Alex snatched his combat knife from its scabbard, but it caught awkwardly on the lip of its sheath and rattled to the floor.

“Oooh, bad luck that.” mocked the mage.

Mariah rushed him, her own knife in hand. But the mage moved like lightning, as if time itself moved faster around him. As she lunged, she found her foe behind her. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, striking downward with his own dagger.

His maneuver might have worked if he hadn’t forgotten Alex. The big soldier tackled him to the ground before his blow could land. The dagger narrowly missed Mariah’s exposed neck and the three of them tumbled into a pile on the floor.

Solomon came back up, his hands forming vicious werewolf-like claws. Flame twirled his blade confidently, his focus entirely on the big Gangrel.

“Forgot about me, motherfucker.” said Julia, coming up beside Flame in a flash and cold cocking him. The mage assassin staggered and Solomon saw his chance.

“Together!” declared Julia as she lunged in as well.

Mikail exchanged blows with his foe. The woman mage was clearly very well trained in animal kung fu. He’d seen elements of mantis, tiger, and even monkey styles. She was fast and a lot smaller than him, but she was using her magic to amplify the power of her blows. Each strike hit like a freight train and only Mikail’s immense size and stamina had kept him in the fight.

She cut a tiger strike across his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. But Mikail saw an opening and he lunged on top of her. Using his weight he bore her down to the floor and smashed his fist hard into her face. Her nose broken, blood sprayed everywhere. Pinned in place, she could not wiggle out from under him and he pummeled her to death in short order.

“You fucker!” snarled Flame in rage at seeing his comrade die. But an insult was all he could manage as he dodged about the two vampires attacking him. He double-punched Solomon in the midsection again, catapulting the Gangrel across the room yet again. He then moved to charge Mikail. But Julia intercepted him.

“We’re not done.” she said confidently.

“Yes, we are.” said Flame. His eyes flashed red and Julia was enveloped in fire.

---

Michael paused outside a pair of double doors. A sharp pain just shot through his chest for no obvious reason. Rebecca rubbed her chest as well. “I felt it too.” she said.

“Julia’s dead.” said Michael.

“You okay?” said Boar sympathetically.

“You’ve lost yours. Now I’ve lost one of mine.” said Michael grimly. “Let’s keep moving.”

He opened the doors and proceeded inside. The room was a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

Cortez held his nose. “That isn’t what I think it is, is it?”

“Human.” said Michael. “Sadly, yes.”

“Male from the looks of it. Not one of your girls.”

“No, they’re right here.” said a voice.

Two spirit monsters emerged from the darkness at the far side of the room. Michael could vaguely make out the physical forms of Phoebe and Linda underneath the grotesque mutations. The speaker, whoever or wherever she was, remained hidden.

“Now what?” asked Rebecca. “We don’t want to kill them.”

“Do we have a choice?” wondered Mitch grimly.

“I certainly hope not.” said the wizard. The spirit monsters rushed forward.

Michael fired his shotgun into Phoebe, but as expected, it did almost nothing. Rebecca catapulted herself off a nearby wall and brought her scimitar down across the rushing Phoebe’s back, but it likewise had little effect. Phoebe grabbed Michael, hoisted him into the air, and slammed him hard against the wall. Michael fired again point blank before Phoebe’s second body slam knocked the gun from his hand.

Linda charged after Cortez, Mitch, and Boar. The two werewolves moved ahead of their mage companion and abandoned any further pretenses about how this fight was going to go. Both morphed into the massive gauru battle wolf-man and rushed Linda.

But the spirit monsters proved just as vicious as they ever had. After pummelling Michael against the wall, Phoebe dropped him and turned her attentions to Rebecca. The agile young woman proved too nimble to be easily caught, giving the beast-that-was-once-Phoebe quite the chase.

Michael pulled himself upright, feeling what seemed to him were dozens of broken bones knitting back together underneath his skin. His regenerative powers had reached their limit and hunger for blood gnawed at his soul. Frenzy lurked on the edge of his mind again.

“We have to break the spell.” said Rebecca, continuing to keep Phoebe busy.

“Where’s the mage?” said Mitch, drawing his gun.

“Guess and get lucky.” said Michael, grunting out a last coherent thought before the Beast took over. He jumped to his feet and rushed towards his friend.

Mitch ignored the onrushing mad vampire and pulled his dice from his pocket. He tossed them into the air, casting his luck spell as he did so. His pistol spoke once, aimed at nothing in particular. The bullet whizzed across the room and found a target.

The wizard became visible and spun around, a flesh wound fresh in her shoulder. The smell of freshly drawn blood from the mage drew the frenzied Michael’s attention away from the uninjured Mitch. Wounded prey was all easier. With a bound, Michael changed directions and pounced on the mage, sinking his fangs deep in their wounded foe’s neck.

The mage gurgled her last and both spirit monsters paused in their tracks. Each one convulsed and screamed in pain as the murder spirits tore free from their physical hosts, no longer anchored to them by the dead mage’s spell.

Cortez had given himself over completely to his wolf and tore at the transforming Linda, intending to finish her off once and for all. Boar, who’d kept his wits, bowled him over before he could land a killing blow. The former alpha of the Fairmount pack did not take the challenge lightly and he roared a counter challenge to the new alpha. But Boar stood his ground, neither attacking nor retreating the enraged wolf. Cortez backed down and shifted back to human form.

Boar did likewise as the two girls came back to themselves. “What happened? Where are we?” said Phoebe through frightened tears.

“We’re here.” said Michael, leaning down. He wiped the blood from his face as he hurriedly realized his gore-soaked appearance was hardly calming.

“Michael!” Phoebe threw her arms around him and sobbed into her terror.

“Count it a blessing they don’t remember much of being possessed.” said Mitch.

“Hell of a shot.” complimented Michael. “I could have killed you.”

“It wasn’t really you and I had the time.” said Mitch confidently.

“Sorry about the challenge.” said Cortez to Boar. “I shouldn’t have let the wolf have that much control.”

“You did what you had to.” said Boar. “I’m just glad you didn’t follow through with the rest of it. I’m not keen on fighting you.”

“Even after I’ve been stabbed a dozen or so times tonight?” joked Cortez.

Michael turned back to Phoebe. “Can you stand? We can’t leave you here.”

Phoebe nodded and Michael helped her up. Cortez did likewise with Linda, who appeared in complete shock. She was nearly catatonic in demeanor.

“Let’s get out of here. Now we’ve fought a mage.” said Michael. “We’re getting closer.”

When the group reached the far side of the banquet room, the floor fell out from under them again. They fell into the darkness and remembered no more.

---

Zao and company moved on beyond the banquet hall and into the hallway beyond. Across the back part of the hotel, they found the elevators again along with a series of smaller parlor rooms. As Zao reached for the doorknob of one, a voice called out from within.

“Is that you, Dimitrius?”

“Hardly.” Zao gave the door a hard shove, expecting it to be held against them. It wasn’t and it flung open to reveal a room full of masked men and women.

“The Raven Society, I presume.”

“Who the hell are you?” said one defiantly. His mask resembled Adolf Hitler.

“Do you enjoy hiding behind the face of one of history’s greatest monsters?” wondered Zao aloud, ignoring the man’s question. He glanced about the room. Each one present was wearing a mask that depicted “one of history’s greatest monsters.” Zao saw Stalin, Ivan the Terrible, Elisabet Bathory, even Lucrezia Borgia, along with others.

“Rich fucks playing games with people’s lives.” snarled Mosely in disgust. “Who are you really?” She reached over to the man next to her and yanked his mask off. Underneath was the face of Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky.

“Rich or famous.” said Zao. “We don’t have time for this.”

“You know what they’re guilty of.” insisted Mosely.

“Pawns.” said Zao. “Sleeper pawns. The real masters of this nightmarish Hellfire Club are elsewhere. Leave them.”

Mosely tossed the mask back to Sandusky and turned on her heel to leave. “Your days of depravity are over.”

“We shall see.” said Sandusky defiantly. “The Brotherhood shall prevail.”

---

Flame looked on with smug satisfaction as the flames burned Julia to dust. He then began a methodical march towards Mikail. The big Russian took up a defensive stance, making ready for his new foe when a deafening beastial roar drew the attention of everyone in the room..

Solomon had picked himself up from where Flame’s kinetic punch had thrown him. As he reoriented himself, his eyes fell on the smoking pile of dust in the center of the room. The ash that had been Julia, the childe of his protege, his ally, his lover. In that moment, Solomon did something he hadn’t done in an age: surrendered to his Beast.

Flame barely had time to register what he was seeing when Solomon was on him. Blinded by rage, Solomon’s attacks were clumsy but brutally powerful. Flame parried two, three, but each impact was like stopping a racing tractor trailer. Flame made to parry a fourth punch, but he was just a fraction of a second too slow and Solomon slammed his fist hard into the right side of Flame’s chest.

This time, it was Flame’s turn to go flying across the room. He landed hard and skidded to a stop. His ally, still battling Alex and Mariah, disengaged to join him and helped him to his feet. Flame wheezed out a breath and gripped his chest. Broken ribs galore.

Solomon didn’t care. He began a menacing methodical advance on the two mages. Flame’s ally stepped forward, his dagger raised threateningly. Solomon did not remotely check his stride and when he was in range, the mage attacked. The blow was a good one, right into his chest, but Solomon didn’t even flinch. He grabbed the mage around the head with both hands and squeezed. Unfortunately for him, the mage lacked the protective wards that allowed Flame to take blows from vampire strength and Solomon crushed his head like a swollen pimple.

“Discretion...” wheezed Flame painfully, beginning the famous quote. Just as Solomon was about to reach him, he vanished into thin air.

---

Michael’s senses returned to him momentarily, or at least most of them. He couldn’t see a thing, nothing at all. But he could feel; he immediately recognized the touch of cold steel against his wrists, binding him in place. He presumed the pressure on his ankles was from similar shackles. He could smell and what he could smell was disgusting, a mix of foul organic chemicals not unlike the industrial plants his father once (and probably still) worked at. And he could hear.

“What wonderful samples for my experiments.” squealed a crotchety old voice; almost the stereotypical sound of a Halloween witch only it was male. “I’ve never had to work on vampires before.”

“Who are you?” asked Michael.

“Not that it matters, but my name is Dimitri Le Roi. The Brotherhood calls me the Experimenter. Tell me, vampire, did you like my little super soldiers?”

“Not particularly.”

“I do see that you managed to free those lovely young ladies. No matter. Soon I’ll have them transformed into something else. Ghouls like the ones downstairs might do nicely.” Le Roi whistled a bit and Michael heard the clinking of glass and other tools as he set about his work.

“You’ll be pleased to know that your allies are doing quite well. Even got Flame to retreat after one battle. That doesn’t happen often. But we’re going to give them a surprise. Imagine their shock when they discover their next foes are the lot of you, transformed into mindless slaves of the Brotherhood. Of course, your souls will have gone screaming into the bosom of Ma’atia’to long before then. May his Power be ever praised.”

Michael heard the wizard move about the room. He could tell the man was opposite him, against a far wall. Michael focused his hearing about the room. He could hear the breathing of the others and could make out his whole group: Rebecca, Mitch, Boar, Cortez, and the two prostitutes. Phoebe was still terrified, as was Mitch. Rebecca was calm and Boar restless.

“You may not like the fact that since this is a trial run for performing these rites and rituals on vampires, I won’t be doing you first, my talkative friend.” said Le Roi to Michael. “I’ll start with one of your friends. Perhaps the Latino or your black friend.” Le Roi chucked to himself. “After all, isn’t that the joke? The black guy dies first?”

He moved next to where Michael could hear Boar was restrained. “Say goodbye to your friend.” said Le Roi.

The next sound was that of a brief scuffle followed by a loud snap. Almost immediately, Michael’s blindness lifted and he could see where he was. The room he was in was about as he imagined it: some manner of laboratory. He and others were bound to metal chairs with steel restraints. Boar was standing in the center of the room in wolfman form, the broken body of a man in a lab coat at his feet.

“How?” asked Michael.

“My restraints came loose while he was talking to you.” Boar answered.

“Nice work, Mitch.” Michael complimented.

“It wasn’t me. I couldn’t conjure up a spell pattern in this room; something was hindering my magic.”

Boar moved to set Michael and Mitch free. From there, they freed the others. Michael looked about for their gear and found it piled in a corner at the far side of the room.

Just as Michael got his trench coat back on and his shotgun in hand, the doors to the room burst open. Michael drew a bead on the first person who entered, but held his fire when he saw Alex McCoid. Zao entered behind him.

“So there you are.” said Alex with satisfaction. “We found the wizards outside in the hallway, so I figured you couldn’t be far away.”

“We had a little run in with the Brotherhood downstairs.”

“I think we all did. Flame was dogging us all the way up the stairs. I think the bastard can teleport. The moment we think we have him, he vanishes.”

“There’s a reason he’s their chief enforcer.” said Zao.

“Where are we?”

“Near the top floor. We’ve cleared nearly the whole building.”

“And yet, no Noble brothers...” said Michael tentatively.

“They are here. All that we’ve encountered thus far was meant to buy them time.”

“Time for what? Escape?”

“Perhaps, but unlikely. More like whatever final battle they intend for us upstairs. A last stand.”

“Let’s not disappoint them.” said Michael, checking chamber on his shotgun. “Upstairs everyone. Let’s finish this.”

---

The top floor of the Hell Hotel was completely open. Two stairways led up to the large chamber from either side. Opposite the stairs, across a marble floor, was a massive statue of some bird-like monstrosity, perhaps a depiction of the “Raven Society’s” true patron, Ma’atia’to. To Michael, well versed as he was in geek lore, it reminded him of a demon of Tzeentch from the Warhammer universe. There was something fitting about that, given Tzeentch was the patron of magic in that fictional universe.

Standing at the foot of the statue were a half dozen or so men and women. At the center were two men who were clearly related, one somewhat more rough hewn and shoddily dressed, the other in a suit and tie. The Noble brothers had made their entrance at last.

Michael assessed the others as well. He spotted Flame and Faulkner in turn, recognizing them from the frat house. Both gave him a cursory nod as he ascended the stairs, noting that they recognized Michael in turn.

Alex drew a bead on Regulus and fired off a three round burst from his L85. The bullets ricocheted off some manner of invisible barrier.

“You really didn’t think it would be that easy, did you, hunter?” asked Regulus, his voice echoing hauntingly throughout the chamber.

“Worth a try.” said Alex, ejecting the mag from the rifle and replacing it.

“Regulus is mine.” said Zao commandingly. “Once he is otherwise engaged, you’ll be free to kill the others.”

“Ah, there you are, old man. Finally found the courage to face us once more.” mocked Emmanuel.

Zao ignored the younger brother and fixed his eyes on Regulus. “Regulus Noble, I challenge you to a duel of sorcery.”

“A one-on-one duel? Why would I accept, old man?”

“Because I bring vampires, wolves, hunters, and the best battle mages of my own Consilum to bear against you. Make this an open fight and we will slaughter you.”

Michael guessed that was a bluff, but a good one. Six mages, including Flame and the Nobles, versus the lot of them. Ignorance of the full capabilities of each other’s species might give Zao’s “army” the edge.

“I could squash the lot of you like a bug.” Regulus raised his hand as if to cast a spell that would make good on that threat.

“No, you face me.” said Zao forcefully. With a wave of his hand, whatever spell had begun to manifest in Regulus’ hand fizzled.

Regulus scowled. “Very well. I’ll slaughter you and then dispense with your foolish allies.” He dropped his arms and white powder dumped out from his sleeves onto the floor. Zao made the same motion and similar white powder poured out onto the floor.

Michael watched as the powder began to scatter about the floor of its own accord, drawing itself into intricate lines and symbols. He recognized them as matching the tattoo on Sarah’s back, that of an arcane circle. With a single moment, the circle was complete.

“Kill them all.” commanded Regulus as a white column of light shot upward from the circle, sealing him and Zao off from the rest of the room.

Michael very briefly evaluated his options. He wanted a piece of Emmanuel, remembering his rape of Sarah all those months ago, but he knew Flame was the bigger threat. Flame had also killed Julia, so he won the debate. Michael drew his Beretta and snapped off two quick rounds at Flame and rushed him. Solomon, equally enraged at Julia’s death, rushed after him, along with Rebecca.

Cortez, Boar, and Mitch rushed Emmanuel, who brought his hand up to his mouth and breathed into it with a dramatic flourish. The spirit mage’s motions summoned forth a fire spirit from the ether and it planted itself between the groups and the mage.

The TFV agents rushed the third enemy mage, the one of the leftmost side of the room. “All the powers of life are mine to command!” he threatened as they drew closer. “Face me, fools!” He cast a spell and his body began to morph and change, not unlike a werewolf might, but he grew much much larger. A massive 12 foot tall dinosaur like monster emerged where the mage had been standing.

Zao’s mages split up, with Skelmsdale moving to counter Emmanuel, Mosely to Flame, and “Scorpion” Miller to the dragon-crocodile-thing wizard. In the back of the room, Faulkner retreated, muttering under his breath and waving his hands methodically.

“He’s maintaining their defensive spells.” Michael mused. He fired off another shot at Faulkner. The novice mage was spending so much of his efforts aiding his allies that he’d failed to ward himself. The bullet tore through his neck and he dropped like a stone.

Flame drew his sword and cut a wide slash towards the floor. The motion proved why he was so named as fire emerged from the cut on the floor, cutting Solomon and Rebecca off and leaving Michael and he alone.

“Let’s see how you do without your support.” said Flame, brandishing his blade before him.

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” said Michael. He tossed the pistol aside and drew out Hiroshi Takagi’s katana from under his coat. He rushed forward, leveling a nasty upward slash at the mage. Flame parried and the battle was joined.

Boar and Cortez both morphed into their war form and tried to rush Emmanuel, but he continued to summon a variety of eldritch horrors from beyond the spirit realms. Most died quickly and returned from whence they came, but some gave the werewolves more trouble. Periodically, Emmanuel would try to cast an energy spell of some sort, but his skill in that was far inferior to Skelmsdale, who countered each one in turn.

Alex’s TFV team had never faced anything like this before. Sure, they’d battled ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of supernatural horror, but this beast was more akin something Tolkien would conjure than Stephen King. It’s massive fists struck like iron, putting Mariah down with a single blow. When Mikail moved to protect her, firing away with his rifle, the beast grabbed him, yanked him into the air, and tore him clean in two.

“Oh, that’s not good.” said Miller. He put his finger to his nose and vanished.

Alex swore, but then Miller appeared on the creature’s back. He wrapped his arms around the beast’s neck and squeezed as hard as he could. Distracted and enraged, the monster swung its huge clawed hands, trying to dislodge him.

Alex moved to Mariah and scooted her unconscious body away with his foot. He took aim with his L85, hoping and waiting for his moment. The beast roared in triumph as it speared Miller on its claw, but that proved its undoing. Alex fired, sending a three-round burst from his assault rifle right into the monster’s exposed mouth. The rounds burst out the back of its head and it pitched forward onto the floor, dead.

Miller tumbled to the side, his abdomen savagely torn by the beast’s claw, his innards spilling out he came to a stop. Alex rushed to his side, but there was no saving the mage. The wound was clearly mortal.

Bright flashes and deafening booms gave the only clue as to whatever was transpiring within the mage circle. Zao and Regulus’ battle was ongoing.

Mariah shook off her malaise as Alex rushed to her side. He helped her to her feet. “What...”

“Mikail down. The mage down. Our opponent down.” Alex rattled off, keeping his feelings about the deaths of his allies out of his voice. “Help the werewolves.”

Michael and Flame exchanged blows. The mage was an expert swordsman, at least as good if not better than Michael. But Michael had the vampire’s strength, regeneration, and tireless stamina on his side and Flame’s wards and spells were beginning to fade. Killing Faulkner had given Michael the edge.

And he knew it too. He struck again and again, and while Flame was parrying his blows, Michael could tell he was growing weaker. The fire barrier between Michael and his allies was fading and soon Mosley, Solomon, and Rebecca would join him.

“You can’t win, Flame.” taunted Michael. He knew it to be true. “It’s over!”

“Is it?”

At that, the column of light vanished. On opposite sides of the mage circle stood Regulus and Zao. Regulus’ tattered clothes were now in shreds and he could barely stand. Zao stood firm, undaunted.

“It’s over, Regulus.” said Zao triumphant.

“Not yet.” Regulus brandished his hand before him and clenched his fist. “A little trick I learned from a lich.”

Zap grasped his chest and Regulus yanked his arm back. An ethereal ghost-like facsimile of Zao tore from his body. Regulus slammed his hand into the floor and the ghost screamed and vanished into the ether. Zao’s body pitched forward, lifeless. He’d met his destiny.

“Zao!” said Mitch. He grabbed his dice from his pocket and cast his signature spell. Brandishing his big .45 in his other hand, he fired at random, allowing luck to do its job. The bullets struck home, killing the last of the spirits and giving Cortez an opening. The werewolf rushed him and then Emmanuel made the exact same motion with his hand that his brother had done a moment earlier.

Cortez stopped short of the mage and grabbed his chest. A wolf-like ghost tore free from his body and then went screaming into the spirit realms. Cortez morphed back to his human form and then pitched over backwards.

“Cortez!” said Boar, and he surrendered to his frenzy.

But Emmanuel had regained his composure and quickly proved that he was very much his brother’s equal in power. He waved his arms in a tai chi like motion and ethereal tentacles emerged from the spirit realm and bound the maddened Boar in place. “Nice try.” he mused amused. “Now let’s see how easily I can rip the life from you.”

Flame gave ground as his fire barrier snuffed out. Now he faced not just Michael, but also his allies and they were fresh and undaunted. He dashed over to Regulus’s side and helped the elder mage to his feet. Regulus gripped at the air, transforming some of it into a razor sharp cutting blade, and he jumped into the fray.

Mitch reloaded and tried to get a shot through Emmanuel’s wards, while Skelmsdale tried to break Boar loose. It was then that Mitch felt a hand on his arm.

“Leave him to me.” said Sarah, as she emerged from behind him.

“What the hell?” said Mitch in astonishment. “Where did...”

But Sarah ignored him. She stepped forward towards Emmanuel as he began his latest incantation. She caught his eye and he looked towards her.

“Ah, dear Sarah, are you my prize for tonight?” threatened Emmanuel lustfully.

“No, never again.” she replied as she locked eyes with him. It was then that Emmanuel realized his mistake.

“Get out of my....” said Emmanuel. He let out a violent scream as Sarah began tearing his deepest fears loose from the deepest recesses of his mind.

“Now, Mitch!” said Skelmsdale. “Finish him!”

Mitch’s pistol spoke once and Emmanuel’s head whipped back, a single round in the center of his forehead.

“NO!!!!” bellowed Regulus in fury. But Flame kept his head, realizing the battle was lost. He reached upward towards the statue. One of the monstrous effigy’s jeweled eyes broke loose and flew into his hand. He then grabbed the surviving Noble brother and vanished from sight.

A bizarre and almost unnatural quiet descended upon the room.

“We’ve done it. The Brotherhood is defeated.” said Mosely.

Next Chapter