10.45 pm, 7 hours until Sunrise. 12 days until The Succubus Club.
I discovered that time progresses slowly when you feel each moment may be your last. I was sitting with Lenny until he started picking up on my terminal mood.
“What’s going to happen to us?”
I shoved my fears down and tried to smile.
“Hey, it’s not all bad. We’ll stay in a fancy hotel tonight—one of the best in Sydney. You can go out on the town with your cash and have a shopping spree.”
“On whatever I want?”
“It’s your money. I’ll learn what I can about what’s happening at home, and I’ll see you tomorrow night as usual.” I tried to ignore the voice I’d acquired in the basement. How did Luna do it?
“Tomorrow night, then.” Now there was a plan in place, he relaxed, and we left the bar to get rooms.
Mr Giovanni had a busy night ahead. What, with preparing for his Uncle Ambrogino’s arrival within the next two days and a war with the Black Spiral Dancers werewolves over Pyrmont. With a briefcase of cash, he left the bar with a promise to be back before the end of the night with the tools they needed.
When I returned to the bar, I headed straight upstairs. I was scared and tired and wanted answers, even if I didn’t like them. I’d confess my side of things to Mr Giovanni and wait for his advice, condemnation, or both. On reaching the door, I tentatively knocked, expecting his voice to tell me to enter or stay away. Nothing. I tried the door, and the doorknob turned. The office was empty. No Luna curled up on the leather armchair in the library. No Stallion reading his Thaumaturgy book, his lips moving silently with the words. No Izac glaring over his favourite tome. No one, except me and the voice.
You lost so much! Those blood suckers murdered one of your friends. Lenny is now in danger and Brendan could well die or worse by their hands in twelve days? They’re yours! Take them back and more! Make them pay for what you’ve lost. What more have you to lose?
In the office, I dragged a few blank pages out of the stores and headed for the library. I had planned to try researching what had happened, but concentrating seemed beyond me at that time. Instead, I forced myself to write a will. It was pathetically short, but putting the words to paper helped block the voice and focus my thoughts. I kept writing a letter to each one of the coterie.
I didn’t know what to say to Lenny. I didn’t know what could be done for Brendan.
I folded each piece of paper into three and slid them into the top pocket of my jacket. safe until needed. If I survived this, I entertained thoughts of letting Lenny burn them along with the tree.
The voice buzzed like an angry bee, determined and packing a sting. I thought of the watch. It would want to extract another deal. No. The less I do with that thing, the better. I turned inwards and roused the blood.
What have you done now?
I really don’t know. I feel like I’m losing my mind to whatever I picked up in the basement. Now they’re talking about breaches and calling in an expert necromancer from overseas…
For Christ’s sake, what else do you have to lose?
I froze. That felt a little too close to what the voice had been saying. When I thought my stomach couldn’t drop any further, it crashed through the floor. My beast was sounding like the bane.
You should feed. A lot.
I had fed, and though never truly satisfied, I wasn’t as low as I had been after the fight.
That will help?
It will make us stronger for what is to come.
I almost asked, but knew I didn’t want to know what was to come.
Right. I may get a second opinion on that.
I am your second opinion.
A third opinion then. Someone not me.
That is when the library disappeared.
Stallion was also busy, buying tomatoes, toothpicks, kebab sticks and gaffer tape. He complained about the price of tomatoes, but the late night meant there was no one to sympathise. In the walk-in freezer of the Crowbar he’d once been stuffed in to cool off, he laid out his toothpicks, sticking them in place with the tape. He was just starting his ritual when he heard a snarling, gurgling, crashing from the office above. The noise was insistent and annoying. It broke into his concentration more than once, making him start his ritual over. Eventually, he put aside his notes, the toothpicks, and skewers and went to investigate what was making the noise.
The guns and shouting had rung through the empty streets day and night. I slept fitfully in Mama’s arms like a fretful baby until dawn when footsteps, loud voices, and banging on doors woke us.
“Hush, Amal,” Mama begged, wrapping me tightly in her scarf.
There was no food. That had run out the day before and our water in salvaged plastic containers was running low. It was almost a blessing when the rough voices started shouting,
“All Islamists for detention camps. Pack up the things you will need for a day’s trip. Leave all furniture and other large items.”
A loud knock on our door, and a young soldier with a gun demanded to see papers. Mama stood behind Tata as he held out the papers shakily. The young man, with a loud voice pulled Tata into the hallway.
Uncle, old and with a sniper’s gunshot wound from a trip to find food, stood up to help, but another man with a gun came and dragged him out as well.
“And the boy?” the younger soldier asked the other, who nodded grimly.
“Not my baby! Not my baby!” Mama screamed, turning away to cover me with her body.
A third man, this one with ribbons and pins, joined the two, making Tata and Uncle stand in the hall.
“What’s all the noise? Get these two downstairs.”
“The woman won’t give up the boy.” said the first man, pointing his gun at Tata’s head.
Without a word, the third man of ribbons and pins pulled out a small gun and swung it at Mama’s head. She crumpled lifeless to the ground. I rolled out of her hands to be snatched up roughly by the soldiers.
“Get the father to carry the boy. Get on with it!” The third man barked as Tata took me and muffled my cries against his chest.
The air outside was cold, and I had little protection except for Mama’s scarf and the warmth of Tata’s body. I cried for Mama because the soldiers had hurt her. I cried because I was cold, but, most of all, I cried because I was afraid, and I could feel that Tata was too, and that was worse of all.
Tata and Uncle were forced into lines with other men. Some yelled and were hit by soldiers with guns. Some ran and were shot. After that, the others did as they were told, and they all started walking. They walked so long that I fell asleep in Tata’s arms. I didn’t wake until the guns started barking.
Tata grabbed me, holding me close as something stuck him from behind. I could feel the hits and Tata fell forward onto me, pressing down so I could barely breathe. I could not cry, I could not move, I lay silent and as the guns rattled on and on….
Stallion stood on the stairs and listened at the door to something shuffling around in the office. Snarls and animalistic growls barely registered as human, but the voice was familiar.
“Rain?” He called and opened the door.
A blood-crazed beast, the Toreador stood inside, hunched and wary, his violet eyes darting towards the movement. He lunged at Stallion, fingers extended like claws. A tongue three feet long lolled out of his mouth, its end barbed with fangs. Stallion acted quickly to Quell the beast and calm the monster…
And I was in the office, Stallion before me, his hand outstretched. I could feel the echo of a growl in my throat, my fingers unclenched from claws, and horrified, I saw the tongue… I stumbled backward, terrified, with no idea what had just happened. My back hit the shelving in the library, and I crumpled to the ground, shaking. The door closed. I was alone.
Text from Stallion to Mr Giovanni:
RAIN’S GOT A WEIRD TONGUE WITH TEETH AT THE END.
“I’m sorry?” Mr Giovanni asked, purchasing weaponry at the time. Stallion, wild-eyed and shaken, was returning to the safety of the freezer.
“I meant what I meant. Rain’s fucked up!”
After a few questions, it was clear what had occurred.
“Stallion, I need you to listen. Find Bruce. Tell him you need the special wooden implements in the basement for Rain.”
“Wooden..like…stakes? Won’t that kill him?”
“No, only put him to sleep.”
“Find Bruce. Okay, Mr Giovanni, I’m on it.”
The horrifying tongue whipped up and disappeared into my mouth. The sensation of it slipping down my throat and filling the spaces in my mouth made me choke. I stared at my hands, no longer pale and thin but ruddy, almost pink. And I was hungry like I was some empty pit never filled. I’d never known such gnawing, energy-draining hunger before, and it scared me worst of all. Shaking, I found my phone, and I texted Mr Giovanni.
SOMETHINGS WRONG. I’M IN THE LIBRARY.
The reply was immediate and not reassuring.
SENT STALLION TO GET REMEDY.
What remedy?
“Bruce!” Stallion had finally found Bruce going through stores in the basement, “Mr Giovanni said I had to get some wood implements for Rain. He’s batshit crazy.”
“Fuck,” Bruce swore and pulled from his back pocket a wooden stake, “Right, you’re taking point.”
“What? But Mr Giiovanni said to get you…”
“And I’m telling you, you’re taking point,” The stake was thrust into his hands, and Bruce grabbed a shotgun. “What you need to do is hit him in the heart and hit him hard to get through his chest.”
I’M SCARED. I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING. I texted Mr Giovanni again as the door opened and Stallion was there again, his right hand held awkwardly to his side.
“Stallion? I…need help…I blacked out and…”
“Shh, don’t worry about it, mate. We know what to do.” He said, trying to put on a reassuring voice, calm and sure, “You know what torpor is, right?” He extended his arm and revealed the wooden stake.
I knew.
I turned on celerity, but he moved first, driving the stake into my chest, almost folding me in half, but failed to pierce my heart. The pain was a brutal, blunt force and jagged piercing. I lept to my feet, spinning around Stallion and was almost out onto the stairs when I saw Bruce, the barrel of a shotgun trained on me from below.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Please, don’t shoot!” I said, hearing the high-pitched babble almost incomprehensible even to me. I put up my hands and cowered back into the office only to face Stallion.
“It’s an anesthetic. You won’t feel anything!” He reassured me above the screaming pain in my chest. I grabbed his hands and placed them on the stake, hoping that this time he’d do it right or kill me and end the pain.
“Please, help me…” I cried as I felt his muscles tense and plunge the stake in.
“Good,” Said Bruce behind me, “see, no longer there.”
But I am. I thought. Though the pain was gone, I no longer had feeling or movement.
Stallion waved his hand in front of my face, “So, what next? Tie him up and chuck him in the freezer?”
“We won’t need ropes. He’s not going anywhere like that. We have a place.”
They stepped away for a moment, leaving me alone. Nothing responded to my commands. I was frozen in place, a prisoner inside my own body. The only company was the mad voice of the bane and the screaming. I joined it, a silent chorus of screaming terror only in my mind.
NAIL IN THE COFFIN.
GOOD. SECURE AND GET STALLION TO WATCH.
“Come on, we’re taking him somewhere,” Bruce said, putting away his phone.
Bruce led Stallion down through the VIP lounge to a section none of us had had reason to venture. Here, another industrial freezer door slid open to reveal a metal-lined room with shiny metal chains draped along the walls.
“This is the time-out room for when one of you goes crazy. We’ll secure him in here. You’re to stand guard.”
“Okay…” Stallion didn’t like the thought of watching over the lifeless body of Rain, especially as he still had his ritual laid out in the other freezer, “Give me…seven minutes, and I’ll be there.”
“No,” The authority in Bruce’s voice was brutal, “Who do you think’s bringing him down here? Go get him.”
Stallion carried me downstairs, where Bruce bound my lifeless body with the silver chains. Both arms, both legs, and around my neck.
“There now,” Bruce stared directly into my eyes and slapped me across the face, “He’s fine.”
“Here, let me try something. It might help if he wakes up,” Stallion reached out his hand, placing it on my head.
“He’s not going anywhere, just stand guard ‘til the boss comes back,”
“But it will be funny,” Stallion laughed and spoke an incantation. Suddenly, I felt like I was on fire. What I could see of my skin went from the odd pink to a deep bronzed tan. The metal against my skin started to heat and burn, and the stake started to smoulder. I screamed again to no purpose, as I began to burn from the inside. Stallion pulled his hand away as if scalded, then a moment later made a gesture, and the burning ceased as soon as it started.
“What the fuck! I thought you were friends!” Bruce exclaimed as Stallion stepped back.
“That wasn’t meant to happen!” Stallion replied, shrill and scared, “It should have made him drunk.” He nervously wiped his hand across his mouth, “Bruce, you never saw that.”
“What do you mean?” Bruce replied, and Stallion realised his mistake. Bruce was Mr Giovanni’s ghoul.
“Look, no harm, no foul?” He said as I cried inside.
“I don’t know,” Bruce replied, calculating, “I might need something.”
With a grimace of disgust, Stallion threw his hands up in the air, “Forget it. Tell people, what do I care.”
“Sure?” Bruce was suddenly taken aback by the change of mind.
“Vampires, obviously. Real people would think you’re crazy.”
I didn’t listen to much outside of myself for a while. There was too much happening in my mind. Now that the body was still, all the entities I’d somehow collected started talking at once. And all had their own advice. The beast wanted blood, to reach into myself and find the dark peace. I felt the scratching voice of the watch repeating in chorus with Avel to remember the tree.
The tree. I had forgotten it in my flight from the house. But what good was it now? Alone and unprotected in a house full of werewolves, who knew what else? What would happen to the tree if it were taken and…corrupted? Would the tree of life become a tree of death? I saw the swords I’d been imagining above my head for the past six weeks and now finding their mark. This was just the beginning of the horror, and I could do nothing.
You still have your telepathy, I heard Avel whisper, and I grasped hold of the idea like a drowning man, a plank of wood. I projected my thoughts and found minds all around me. Delith at the bar upstairs, random patrons and other casual staff, Giuseppe up stairs, Stallion and Bruce. Stallion had just burned me, so I focused my thoughts on Bruce.
I am very much awake – let me out of here! I was pleased when I saw him wince, and then his grey eyes found mine. He leaned in close and whispered.
“You see Rain, I know.” The coldness of his words chilled me more than the temperature of the room. I was trapped, and no one who cared knew where I was. This was too much…too much like…
No. I focused again. I’d found Giuseppe before and quickly found him again. Unlike Luna I’d been able to be cordial with him, though it was the same friendly mask I reserved for the Nosferatu. He’d also been sympathetic at the punishment. Maybe he’d be sympathetic again.
Please, Giuseppe, I need help, My focus wavered under Bruce’s pronouncement. Images of the reinforced freezer room, the chains and the screaming voices all filtered through the message.
When I was aware of my surroundings again, Bruce was gone, leaving only Stallion looking awkwardly anywhere but at me. He stood there in silence for ten minutes or so, gesturing over and over as if practising or refining the movement. The door creaked open.
“Hey, I got a message there was a party?” Giuseppe’s wet grin settled on me, “Oh, Rain’s the party, alright!”
“Hey, Giuseppe,” Stallion said breezily as if seeing him at the start of shift, “A party? Na, Rain’s not a pinata.”
“Hi, rough night, huh?” Giuseppe licked his oversized lips. “Say, you look like you could use a feed. I can look after Rain.”
Stallion thought a moment or three, “I should stay here. Why don’t you get me drinks so we can sit together?”
I didn’t know what was holding Stallion there, but I was grateful for it.
Please, don’t leave me alone…with him. I sent as clearly as I could, hoping to stir some feeling in him.
I did that.
Stallion turned and looked at me. He stepped in closer, examining me. He then opened my mouth and pulled out the hideous thing that was my tongue.
“He has teeth on his tongue. I watch out for that,” He said, letting the thing loll onto my chest, “I’ve got other shit to do.” And he left. The door closed, and Giuseppe, his large eyes glowing in the near darkness, slowly turned them towards mine.
“Hello Rain. I’ve always thought you were such a pretty boy. My uncles told me how this works,” He stepped forward and placed his hands delicately on my chest. I couldn’t feel it, but my skin crawled nonetheless.
Without removing his hands from me he moved first to the collar around my neck and unfastened it, then down to the manacles on my legs, then back up, releases my left and then right hand. My body slumped, and he caught it carefully, laying it down so my head didn’t hit the concrete floor.
“Now, no stake out. Not yet, but…” he took my tongue and carefully rolled it back into my mouth, ”…we don’t need that awful thing, do we.”
Of all the depravity I’d seen in his mind, I had never thought his attentions would be so…personal. And after all the horror, fear, and pain of the last few hours, Giuseppe spooning up beside me on the floor of the freezer was almost…normal. I couldn’t feel him, could barely see him, and only heard his soft, childish giggling as he slowly undressed me. I retreated, sinking into the darkness where only the voices could find me.
“So, you have your submachine guns, silver bullets, ballistics shields, claymores…anything else you want tonight, Dominic?” Ask Mr Gioivanni’s supplier as he tallied up the bill.
“That seems to be the lot. And it goes without saying, I do appreciate you fulfilling my order on such short notice.”
The tallying paused. The gun dealer’s glanced up from this calculations at one of his best customers.
“I’m afraid this will be the last time. I don’t know what you have going on tonight, but it’s not good, and I’ll have nothing to do with it. This…this order, it’s too hot…too heavy. We do this deal, and then we’re done. Is that understood?”
Mr Giovanni started counting out cash from his briefcase, “I don’t know you.”
Stallion returned to his ritual in the freezer, but his mind was all over the place.
What did Rain think he was doing scaring me like that?
And then, I had to stake him?!
He deserved to be staked.
The ritual failed. His anger turned to the only place it could go.
He deserves more than being staked. He sent a message to White Shark.
11.55 pm, 6 hours until Sunrise. 12 days until The Succubus Club.
Luna and Izac walked into the Crowbar just before midnight. They scanned the main room and saw no one they knew other than the new barmaid, Delith. Luna stared daggers and Izac grabbed her hand and started towards the stairs.
“I have to go see Mr Giovanni. See what’s happening.”
“Yeah,” she replied, dragging her eyes off the deadly Delith, “I’ll go to the library. Though, I don’t know if Mr Giovanni is here. Didn’t he say he needed to prepare for his Uncle’s arrival?”
They climbed the stairs together only to find Bruce cleaning up in the office, a mop and bucket stained red.
“Busy night,” Bruce said, explaining the mess, “did you do what you needed to?”
“Ah, I’d like to discuss it with Mr Giovanni. Is he here?” Izac paused. This wasn’t going as he’d hoped.
Bruce glanced up at a close-circuit TV that showed the everchanging views from the bar’s cameras. One of those views was the underground parking lot where a car park lay empty.
“Where’s the car?” He asked, still sounding casual and friendly.
Izac and Luna looked at each other.
“You came through the front doors, not the carpark. Have you lost the car?”
“No!” Izac replied sharply, too sharply. Bruce’s eyes narrowed.
“We stayed at his new apartment. Left it in the secure parking,” Luna supplied.
Bruce’s eyes flicked to her.
“Are you keeping it? I would have thought you’d have learnt your lesson about keeping things that aren’t yours.”
“We’re not keeping it!” she snapped back. “We need to see Mr Giovanni. Where is he?”
“Sourcing…materials,” Bruce said, picking up his bucket and mop and waiting for the other two to clear the stairs.
“What about the others?” Izac stepped into the room, and Bruce moved past without breaking eye contact.
“Oh, Stallion is waiting for friends. I can only assume he meant you. And Rain…well, he’s held up somewhere.”
“Rain?” Luna stepped before Bruce to block his exit, “Where is he?”
“He had a…little episode. He’s someplace safe, calming down. It’s a nice place all to himself.” The corner of his mouth quirked, and Luna saw it.
“Where is he, Bruce?”
“I told you, hanging around.”
Childish giggling. Dark metal room…freezer…deep feeling of disgust… A jumbled mess of emotions, sounds, and images hit Luna, making her reel back. Bruce took his chance and stepped around her and out the door.
“Are you okay?” Izac asked, only worried for Luna’s welfare.
She didn’t answer. She ran.
Scrambling down the stairs they made their way down to the VIP room where Stallion was sitting in one of the private booths, a number of glasses already consumed, his trenchcoat stuffed with odd pieces of tape and…toothpicks?
“Where is he?” Izac asked straight out, though the VIP room was more than half full of paying guests and their…dates.
“Who?” Stallion replied, faning innocence and sipping from his latest glass.
“Where’s Rain?” Izac persisted as Luna started searching the VIP room for other exists.
“With Giuseppe.”
“What? Where is he Stallion?!” At the sound of Giuseppe’s name, Luna quickly returned to the conversation.
“He’s protecting Rain.”
“Yeah, and whose protecting Rain from him?!” She shouted, spotting a door and heading for it.
“What does she mean, Stallion?” Izac asked, confused.
“Ah, I’d stop her if I were you,” Stallion suggested. Not sure what was going on, Izac grabbed Luna’s arm and for a moment he felt the heat of her rage.
“Giuseppe is looking after him. We’re all one team, aren’t we? All meant to look out for each other?” Stallion’s tone was smug and knowing, only making Luna boil even more.
“Giuseppe is not on our team.”
“Leave him be Luna,” Stallion said now in full seriousness, “you won’t like what you’ll see.”
That was enough for Izac to react. With his other hand, he grabbed Stallion by the shirt front.
“Is Rain in immortal danger?” Luna broke free and headed for the door, Izac let her.
“You’ll regret what you see, is all I’m saying.”
Luna burst through the door at the back of the VIP room to find a short corridor and a big sliding metal door. It matched the one from the image in her head, and she didn’t hesitate to slide it open.
I was in the dark. I was still aware of the minds around me, feeling for someone I knew who would care. That was when I felt their presence. It was Luna and Izac, but they were so close together, their thoughts so similar in the moment, I couldn’t tell which was which. I’d failed to solicit help from my first few tries, and if I got this wrong, I was sure I would meet a final end from the Izac’s pistol. But if I picked Luna?
The giggling continued. I was naked from the waist up. Giuseppe was taking his time. I sent the message.
The moments with no definable limit ticked by. Eventually, there were footsteps outside the door, and it rolled open.
It was Luna, rage quickly disappearing into a mixture of shock, sorrow, and eventually disgust. Izac was quick on her heels and he stood as frozen as me in the doorway as Luna crossed the freezer and dragged Giuseppe off my staked form. I heard Giuseppe sigh as the party was now over.
I could not love her more.
“Get up,” Her tone was cold, she looked ready to pull out her cutthroat and make it worthy of its name.
“Oops…well, this is embarrassing,” Giuseppe giggled as if we two had snuck away to be alone. He did as he was told, buttoning up his own shirt.
“Get out.”
“Can’t.” He replied simply, “I’m here to protect Rain so you don’t eat him.”
“You would do worse,” She snarled, ignoring his insinuation.
“I’ve heard about you. You’d drink him dry.”
“Get out!” She screamed into his face before turning her back to him completely and giving her full attention to me. Again, the rage left in a flash, leaving only pity.
“Giuseppe, “Izac had found his voice, “leave. She won’t be alone.”
Giuseppe found his jacket amongst the shreds of my clothes and put it on.
“Busy night?” He asked casually, like Bruce, as if it was just another night.
“Order from Mr Giovanni, for his ears only,” Izac replied, cooly polite.
Guisseipi didn’t like that. “Sure. And how’s the dog doing?” He smiled a simpering smile, and Izac fumed.
“You heard her. Get out.”
“I can’t. Can’t leave you both alone with him. Don’t know what you might do.”
Rolling his shoulders, Izac leaned in close to the nasty little man, “You know my proclivity?”
“Ah, wolf in sheep’s clothing, you.”
“Whatever, dude! I’m done with your Giovanni word games!” Izac finally said, walking into the freezer to stand behind Luna.
Luna gently sat down beside me, taking in the stake silently, watching my dead eyes for any sign of life.
“What happened?” She asked, not taking her eyes from me.
“Rain had an episode,” Always helpful Giuseppe supplied, “besides sending him to the other side, it was the best solution. A little time out.”
“He lost control?” Izac said, concerned. After that, when he dared to look in my direction, it was like he was finally seeing the monster.
“Look, we’re not all buddies and friends here.” Luna looked around and found my clothes, or what was left of them. She attempted to cover me, but the shred would not stay. She did, however, find the pages I’d written earlier and tuck them away out of sight.
“See, I can’t trust you alone with him,” Guissiepi proclaimed, “you’re so mean to me, and I’ve done nothing to you.”
“I’m mean alright, just let me show you,” She went to stand, and Izac intervened.
“If you need to know what we did tonight, we drove around, met some people, determined Pyrmont is not safe…Luna got a dress…” Izac stepped between, scrambling for anything to appease the ghoul.
“Oh!” Giuseppe’s eyes grew wide, “for the big show in a few days? Tell me, what are you wearing?”
“Nothing you’ll see,” Luna growled as Izac slowly moved Giuseppe away.
“Look, Rain is safe. And it’s only until Uncle comes back, anyway.”
“How long?” Izac grabbed onto the shred of information, “When do you expect him back?”
“Does it matter?” Giuseppe complained, only gaining for him Izac ire.
He rang Mr Giovanni
“Uncle, I’ve been asked if you have an ETA……Rain had a moment. He’s down in the Time Out. Did you get what you wanted?….Good, so did I.” He glanced up at Izac with a cheeky smile on his face, “He’s fine. Izac and Luna are here….Stallion? I told him to get a drink, he looked thirsty…”
Though much of Mr Giovanni’s side of the conversation was a muffled garble, the rest echoed clearly in the metal-clad room.
“Giuseppe, is Rain chained up?”
“I assure you Uncle, he’s no danger to anyone.”
“Please ensure he stays chained up until I arrive. And crack a keg open. He will be hungry.”
“Luna misses you. She’s very particular about how long you’ll be. She might not be family but the next best thing, right?”
Luna did not take the bait this time. She was raking my hair away from my face, tending to me like a mother to a sick child. Though the action were almost the same as Giuseppe’s a moment ago, the intent behind them couldn’t be more different. If I had died in that moment, I could not have been more at peace.
“Text Stallion to help you with the keg and find some people to help me unload.” Mr Giovanni ordered and hung up.
“You need to go help Uncle unload his supplies,” Giuseppe said to Izac as he texted Stallion. He then proceeded to chain me back up, ready for Uncle’s arrival.
UNCLE SAID YOU’RE TO GO TO THE FREEZER AND GET A FEW PACKS FOR RAIN.
“Augh shit!” Stallion said reading the text. White Shark was due any minute, he couldn’t wander around doing chores. Looking around him for a solution, his eyes alighted on the smart and charming bartender from earlier. She’d brought an order down from the bar and was now chatting to the VIPs.
“Delf..Delf!” He called her over and she excused herself from her guests.
“You remembered my name,” She smiled, pulling out an order pad, “What can I get you?”
“Nothing. I have to do a job for the boss, but I’m expecting someone. He’s called White Shark. Should be here in the next ten minutes. Can you keep an eye out for him and tell him I’m on my way?”
“White Shark? Sure, anything for you. Just remember to put in a good word with the boss later, right?”
“Ah, sure, no problem.”
Leaving the booth, Stallion headed straight for the freezer and grabbed a couple of blood packs. He then moved quickly across the VIP lounge and slipped through the door. The small hallway was empty, so he carefully slid the metal door open, placed the two blood packs inside the door, and left.
Job done.
As the door closed, he did notice me, half-naked, attended by Luna.
Pinata undressed! He thought and scrambled back for his meeting with White Shark.
“I need to get a steak,” Izac leaned down and whispered to Luna. It had been a very long night and he was still to feed after regrowing his hand, “Will you be alright here?” He glanced at Giuseppe.
“I’m fine,” She replied curtly.
Regardless, Izac had to eat. He told himself he could be quick, he told himself that he’d make the task worthwhile by finding some help of the Nosferatu kind. He knew a little about the curse ones. If there were Nosferatu in the bar they’d have glamors that made them look strikingly beautiful, in contrast to the ruin that was reality. Scanning the crowd, he saw two outstandingly gorgeous women standing at the bar. He noted them and raced to the kitchen, where he mulled over, confronting them while chewing over the steak. Decisions made, he returned upstairs to the general office where the bag of money and drugs was still sitting. He grabbed a wad of cash, wrapped them all with a stolen elastic band, and returned to the freezer for the vigil.
White Shark, flannel shirt open, strutted into the Crowbar. A few eyes glanced his way as his scruffy western suburbs chic didn’t fit with the dress code of the club. He went up to the bar where Delf had very carefully ensure she was alone. White Shark was soon walking down the stairs to the VIP lounge and into a handshake with his childe.
“Do you want something to drink, on me?” Stallion asked grandly.
“Yeah, don’t mind if I do,” White Shark replied, “That bartender was really weird for a Ventrue. Not stuck up herself like most.”
He took a seat at the booth and looked around, “Yeah, not bad place. Alright, what’s this about? I got a message you needed me for something?”
“A couple of things. I need a place to stay, the Pyrmont house has a little bit of a breach,” Stallion leaned in close, not sure who could be listening.
“Come again? What do you mean by breach?”
“That’s all I know, except we’ve been told to keep clear. I was wondering if this was something that you’d be interested in.”
White Shark looked at his son as if seeing him anew, “Might do, might do indeed. You have access to this place?”
“Yeah, I have keys. I was thinking of going and picking up the bike.”
“Forget the bike, what do you say about a chat with some werewolves?”
“Werewolves? But won’t they kill us?”
“Nah…well, there’s some that would slash you up as soon as shake your hand, but they’re good folks mostly.” The assessing look again, “You’re not a pussy, are ya?”
“What? I said I’d go, didn’t I?” Stallion balked at the idea of Dad thinking him weak.
“Good on ya. Right. Follow me.”
White Shark got up, left the VIP lounge and took the stairs to the main room. There he crossed the floor to the fire exits and the alley out the back. Meowing like a cat he caught the attention of eight cats, two of them trotted up to see what he wanted. After a brief conversation, the cats ran off, and White Shark turned to face his childe.
“Out front, there’s a nice looking classic car just sitting out in the public street. Want to go for a drive?”
“What? Steal it?” Stallion asked. White Shark gave him a sly grin and beckoned him to follow. Walking out onto the main road, he stopped by a khaki green Bronco Jeep, brand new. He threw Stallion the keys.
“I thought the Bronco was fitting. A bronco for a Stallion, yeah?”
“For me?” Stallion was overjoyed, “You could have got me a horse named Clyde and I’d be happy.”
“It can still be arranged,” Joked White Shark, “Or maybe one called Ed?”
With a slap on the back, White Shark climbed into the passenger seat, and the Bronco was soon on its way to Pyrmont.
COME GIVE ME A HAND IN THE BASEMENT. It was a text from Bruce. Izac had been expecting it ever since Guisseipi’s phone call. He made excuses and left to find Bruce in the carpark as Mr Giovanni returned from his trip.
“Have you cleared up your shit?” Izac said to Bruce. He was still fuming from the way Bruce had behaved when they arrived and wanted to put the ghoul in his place.
“That’s a really mean thing to say about Rain,” Bruce quipped back, landing a heavy blow to Izac’s conscience.
He winced visibly, “Way to make me feel bad about myself.”
“Happy to help. Here, give us a hand with these, “ He opened the boot to reveal seven wooden and nylon crates. As they pulled the crates out of the car, Mr Giovanni walked to the rear of the garage and found a loose brick. Hidden behind was a keypad that he used before replacing the brick. The wall slid aside to reveal the armoury.
“Where’s the car?” Mr Giovanni spied the empty car space.
“Luna and I went to the flat. It’s in the secured parking over there.”
“Any reason why?”
“No, none. Just went straight there,” He winced again. He was no good at lying, “Look, there’s 40K of mine that is now yours.”
Mr Giovanni didn’t respond, except to open a crate. It was full of magazines and ammunition.
“Load magazines will you, please?”
Izac did without question.
“Uncle Ambrogino is coming. He’ll want to visit Pyrmont.”
“Who?” Asked Bruce, genuinely curious.
“Ha, I know something you don’t.” Izac laughed at Bruce’s ignorance. Bruce’s smile, in return, never made it to his eyes.
The first thing I knew about Mr Giovanni’s return was the sliding door opening and him walking in. He took in the room, my state of undress, and the cold atmosphere between Luna and Guisseipi that had nothing to do with the location.
“Where’s Stallion?”
“Uncle, your back!” Guisseipi exclaimed with pleasure, “Stallion, I haven’t seen him for a while.”
“The blood bags, we need to start them dripping. Where are they?”
“I texted Stallion as you ordered, “ Guisseipi simpered as Mr Giovanni spotted the two bags left inside the door. Without another word, he grabbed and hung one just above my mouth. Before setting it dripping, he examined the horror within my mouth.
It was the first time Luna had seen it, and I would have given anything to look away. It was worse than being found naked to have that terrible thing uncurled and examined.
“Serpent’s fangs. Not a demon then, but it is a possession.” He confirmed, like a Doctor examining a diseased patient. “Whatever came through the wall is changing Rain.”
“A possession? We can fix it. Exorcism,” Luna said confidently.
“That’s what Uncle Ambrogino is for,” I saw Giuseppe’s eyes go wide behind them.
“I think I could do one,” Luna added, again more confident than the average person should be when talking about such things, ”A Latin bible, holy water, a religious symbol…”
Mr Giovanni glanced at Luna.
“Orthodox. Thanks to the great schism.”
“Indeed? Giovanni’s are Roman Catholic, of course.”
“So, when will Uncle Ambrogino be here?”
“Anytime within the next two nights. In the meantime, we’ll leave Rain here. We’ll feed him, and tomorrow night, we’ll take out the stake. But he stays chained until Uncle Ambriogino’s arrival.”
“I’ll not leave him,” Luna leapt up in my defence, “And do we have to have him like this?”
“Luna, it is either here, safe or dead. Which would you prefer?”
She backtracked and tried a new angle, “Okay, but anyone but Giuseppe to stay and watch.”
“See Uncle, “ Giuseppe complained like a child, “She hates me, and I do nothing to deserve it.”
“My boy,” Mr Giovanni patted his nephew’s shoulder, “You will just have to win them over with your natural charm.”
Inside the silent Pyrmont residence, the front door opened, and Stallion led White Shark in. With no Slobbers to greet Stallion or Lenny to give a friendly bustle to the place, the house was silent and empty.
“So, our guests are arriving soon. For the sake of this little interaction, I’m saying I own the property, right.”
“Feel free to kick back. I’ve got a few little jobs to do upstairs.” Stallion offered the hospitality of the house and climbed the stairs to Luna’s bedroom. Amongst her uni work, books and laptop, he called to all the cockroaches in the area to take up residence. Soon, the fawn cut pile carpet was brown and glistening with tens of thousands of invertebrates, their dry carapaces rubbing against each other, creating a rasping scratching sound.
“Hey! What’s with this tree?” White Shark called from my room, “It seems weird. Do you mind if I take it?”
“The coterie may…” Stallion said, remembered it was mine, and changed his mind,” but as no one is here to say, take what you want.”
“I’ll just take a branch. They won’t even notice,” White Shark replied, carefully removing one twig from a branch.
A knock at the door and the two vampires made it downstairs to welcome their guest, a couple of punks still wearing the same outfits they’d worn in the seventies.
“G’day gentlemen, welcome.” They walked in taking up more room than their average human size would warrant.
“I’m his child,” Stallion introduced himself, and the werewolves sniggered.
“What? Another one White?” One said, seemingly on good terms with the Gangrel sire.
“When will you learn,” The other one added, chuckling.
“You know how it is, gotta collect them all, right?” White Shark smirked, closing the door and getting down to business, “So, do your lot know what’s going on here?”
“Suppose you tell us, then we’d both know.” The first spoke, crossing their arms. They weren’t in the mood for a chat.
“No, I suppose not. Well, another of your breed, not your mob has been here recently. My childe here has more information, I’ll let him explain.” White Shark turned to Stallion who had, until that point, been happy to sit back and follow after his sire.
“I’ve been informed that there is something known as a breach on this property.”
At this, the werewolves literally pricked up their ears.
“Can we see it?”
“White Shark?” He passed the decision-making back to his sire, who nodded approvingly.
“Sure, let’s go have a look.”
Stallion led the small group to the door under the stairs and opened it, but didn’t go down first.
“Well, led the way, son,” White Shark prompted and with a sudden jerk into life, started down the stairs. The basement was pretty much as he’d last seen it. More of the blood packs seemed to be consumed than he remembered them using the night they arrived. Maybe Rain had a snack?
“We call this place The Pit.”
“Ha, fitting name,” Said the second werewolf caressing the walls with his hand. Suddenly, his hand sunk in up to the elbow. The first tried as well, and they grinned like school children.
“Well, what a treat!” The first crowed.
“What do you want for it?” The second asked.
“Well, Stallion. With your wealth of knowledge on the subject, what do you think this place should go for?” White Shark once more turned the subject over the Stallion who this time goggled at the idea of selling.
“I…er..well, as I see it we’ve struck double the oil here. So, would double the market price be reasonable?”
“Huh?” The first said, confused.
“How much? What do you want for it in money?”
White Shark rolled his eyes, “How ‘bout we say forty million and an invite to the next gathering. Can’t be fairer than that.”
“Deal,” The first werewolf stuck out his hand to shake, “But we’ll be paying in precious stones. Carrying that much cash around is dumb in this day and age.”
“Forty million and a cat,” Stallion added to the deal, thinking Izac would appreciate a cat now that he had his own apartment.
The two werewolves look at each other and then back at Stallion, a cloud of confusion fogging the deal.
“Forget the cat, only joking.”
“Oh…good then,” The deal was done and the werewolves started to dance.
“We’ll come back tomorrow and have ourselves a little dance down here.” With that, one werewolf and then the other walked through the wall and disappeared.
“Well done, my boy. Now you’re playing with the big boys. A multimillionaire, huh?”
“Twenty million!” Stallion’s mind boggled at the number, “I’d never spend that much..ever!”
“Now hold on a minute there, lad,” White Shark stopped halfway up the stairs to the main house. I bought you your car, set you up with a deal, negotiated everything. I warrant you deserve your finder’s fee, say fifteen mil…” Suddenly, White Shark’s head flicked up, and his head swiveled left and right, trying to detect the source of a sound. “Did you hear it?”
Stallion strained his excellent hearing and heard nothing beyond the constant dull roar of the City above them.
White Shark’s head whipped around again and swore.
“Why didn’t you tell me what this place was?” He barked as this time Stallion heard a skittering of something down in the pit.
“I did, it was a breach,” Stallion complained at the injustice of the accusation.
“You didn’t tell me about the fuckin’ uglies though, did ya! Fuck! They probably heard the whole deal.”
“They built a tunnel straight in,” Stallion said, pointing out the reused cupboard covering the hole in the wall. “We could chase them down.”
“Na,” White Shark said heavily, realising the news would be common knowledge by the end of the night, “Now you’re getting eight million.” He huffed his way back up the stairs, Stallion protesting in his wake.
“We’re done for the night. You enjoy your car. I’m off to find a meal.”
As Izac and Mr Giovanni left on an interview with the Prince, Luna continued vigil over my body. Though Giuseppe continued complaining that Luna could not be left alone with Rain, as soon Mr Giovanni left, he soon got bored of watching and found something else to do. This was the chance Luna had been waiting for. Carefully, she went through my pockets. She found the watch, in my vest pocket. That quickly disappeared, of which I was very grateful. She found my wallet and phone and put them aside. She then found pieces of wood that I recognised as belonging to my puzzle box.
I’d given that to the Prince soon after Stallion’s disastrous song at Elysium. I had no idea how they had come to be in my pockets. They hadn’t been there when I put the suit on that evening. I could only imagine that the Prince had had the Nosferatu return it sometime during or after the Interview with Francesco. That meant they were down in the Pit when he opened the hole and the bane had infected me. But why give the puzzle back now?
As she put the pieces back in the pocket where she’d found them I wondered what was the significance of the box’s return and in such a state? Was it a message that I, was as broken and useless as the box?
Finally, she pulled out the sheets of paper and unfolded the first. My will.
Dear All,
I’ll forego to “Being of sound mind…” bit of this as you already know that’s never been true. I’d like to not die. If that’s not in my cards, then consider the rest of this my will and testament.
Everything I own belongs to the coterie. Use it wiser than I would. Give generously. Money like life, is not worth anything if it’s not shared.
Treat Lenny decently, whatever is decided. Remember he like you, is someone I love. I know he can be more than the wretched hand he’s been dealt. Remind him of that.
That’s it. Not much to say for a life, but I’ve always tread lightly on this world.
Please find attached messages for each of you. It’s poor respect for a magician to peak at his tricks. Respect each other’s privacy in this. What you do with your private message…well, I don’t get a say anymore.
I was very lucky to have known you all. Thank you for your time and patience.
The man you knew as Rain.
As soon as she’d finished reading the will and her note, she read the others. I should have given her an exemption, she knew all that was in them anyway. With reverential care, once finished, she carefully returned them to the inner breast pocket of my jacket.
12.20 am, 6 hours until Sunrise. 11 days until The Succubus Club.
***************************************************************************************************************
Thoughts from Luna
1,095 Days
Netflix and diary entries could only entertain them for so long. Luna could care less about Stallion but the breach and Black Spiral Dancer Werewolves had her thinking of Rain.
They had just left him… what a friend she was.
Izac emerged from the room, stashing his diary back away and with a flick of his head, they were out the door and walking across the street to the Crow Bar.
As the sun slowly approached, the atmosphere of the bar changed. Though patrons were still inside, less arrived and more left.
Delif, the kindred mixologist that had used Dominate on Rain stared them down as the two walked further into the bar.
Walking up to the next level, Bruce stood with a mop. Moving the instrument in a circular motion from Dominic’s office to the corridor.
Odd. The head Giovanni wasn’t here and maybe Bruce is his cleaner but not a simple employee.
As him and Izac talked, she only spoke when her name was mentioned. Her eyes tracked the speck of red that had leeched into the recesses of the wooden flooring.
Whose blood?
“I thought you would know better Luna, about taking things that aren’t yours.” She knew the predatory look in his eyes. The kind of guy that is not warning but promising the enjoyment of her pain.
“Borrowing. The car is in a safe place.” Her certainty seemed to sway him. Not as entertaining when they fight back.
Bruce goes to speak again but Luna is pulled out of the corridor.
She lays in a meat locker. The cold gnaws at her fingers, the environment oddly enchases her chest. Metal hands in the form of chains hang from the ceiling, reaching out to her. Then she hears it. The childish giggling of someone who knows they are doing something wrong. Of someone who knows they are about to get away with the taboo.
No. She’s undressed. Laying paralysed on concrete flooring.
Giuseppe’s giggles are unmistakable.
The vision is not hers but Rain’s.
She doesn’t excuse herself. Her boots hit the boards as she leaves Izac’s side.
She- He’s underground. Lower than the usual meat locker. It’s a place she does not know but she will find it.
She has to save him.
The fire she had quelled sprung to her fingertips. Swelled in her chest ready to explode. Luna will fight for herself yes, but she’ll burn to the world to keep the ones she loves safe. Even if that cost is her bones.
She can hear Izac calling out to her. Once she descends the steps to the VIP lounge, his figure tenses from discomfort. Fine. She’ll blaze the path for them. She takes his hand into hers and her eyes scan for a further way down.
Stallion sprawls himself to a booth. Empty glasses of blood stacked as if two other people had been there. He’s waiting.
“Where is he?” Fuck pleasantries.
He stares. His eyes are as empty of working braincells as his prefrontal cortex.
“Where is he?” The anger must spark against something in his brain because Stallion bothers to sit up.
“Oh Rain? He’s cooling off. Lost himself a little, y’know? He’s in Giuseppe’s care.”
Giuseppe’s care is borderline rape. She can practically feel him touching her.
“I’m not fucking around, Stallion. Where is he?” Her tone draws some eyes. She’d smash his fucking head into the table to be able to get one intelligent thought from him.
“Come on Luna! Aren’t we a group? What’s not to believe?” Stallion accentuates his words with the sway of his hands as if he’s Socrates postering a philosophical question.
“We are a group,” because Stallion cannot be thick enough to include anyone but himself, her, Rain and Izac in that collective. “Not Giuseppe.”
Izac’s hand slips to grasp her shoulder. She knows this type of grip. Stay here, it says. As if she’s a child about to wander off.
“Stal,” Izac leans forward, straining his hold on her.
Her eyes scan the enshrouded room. A corridor deeper into whatever the fuck this place is catches her eye.
An inch further-
-Luna breaks free from his hold. She’s been restrained by enough people older and taller than her to calculate the movement just right.
Her steps are followed by Izac’s once more.
She’s seen this metal door before. It’s like the one used to house the ‘kegs.’
She’s all momentum, using nothing but pent up anger to force the door to slide open.
Giuseppe is displayed over a prone Rain, hands holding an unbuttoned shirt. A stake impaled in his chest. The inbred rolls his eyes, sighing as his moment is clearly ruined.
“Get. Off.” The only thing keeping Giuseppe alive is his Giovanni name. She’s beaten people to a pulp for much less than this ‘heavy petting’.
She knows it’s wrong. Death is no solution but his warm blood, staining this cold and condemned place made an oddly satisfying fantasy.
She knows Giuseppe’s excuse. Like every molester before him. ‘No harm, no foul.’
She knows he’s saying as much. That he’s just so nice, why would she be untrustworthy of him?
And yet as she advances, he steps back. Maybe he can see it. The blood thirst in her eyes.
It’s not targeted at Rain.
Kneeling by Rain’s side, she knows more is wrong than what Giuseppe did or did not do. He’s cold to the touch, unlike the normal coldness by lack of blood. His skin is unnaturally pinkish, tainted by a dye like rose over his usually even complexion.
Izac and the lesser Giovanni speak about Rain’s loss of control. His timeout in this safe room. It changes to their previous activities.
“She got a dress.” She knows Rain’s aware of her tightening hold on his hand. The hairs along her body stand up in relation to her growing fight or flight response.
Luna lacks streetwise. She’s always relied on her group to fill in the gaps between her intelligence and their ability to react. To compensate, she’s developed some gut instincts that are never wrong. Even when she refuses to listen to it, her gut is always right.
“How’d it look?” She can hear her innermost voice begging Izac to not say anything. For his pleasantries to give way to reason.
Giuseppe wants to eat her alive. Anyway he can. Voyeur her until looking can become touching. Waiting on the sideline. Licking his lips.
The pack’s closing in.
“It looked good.” Izac’s voice rises in infection when he finishes ‘good’. He’s picking up on Giuseppe’s new fixation.
“Describe it.”
“No.” She can’t tell if he denied from realising Giuseppe’s motive or if he wanted to keep the image to himself.
Her eyes snap from Rain to Giuseppe’s, “if you weren’t so important I really would kill you.” That’s not a threat. No. It’s a promise she’ll keep for eternity.
Izac tried to convince Giuseppe to leave. He doesn’t budge. Can’t trust Kin, right?
No. She gets one opportunity at Giuseppe’s back and she’ll leave him bleeding.
Giuseppe picks up his phone to call his Uncle. The superior of them all. Izac stays by the door, though he watches her as she looks back at him. They leave for a couple hours and after killing people Rain is the one to fly off the hook?
“A ‘useful tool’ huh?”she whispers to Rain. It’s anger. It’s anger because she can’t be upset. Emotion is weakness.
A predator watches her.
“She might not be family but she may be the next best thing.” The raw fear she could barely suppress. Her knuckles white as she balls her hands. No nervous shake here. Not right now. Rain needs her.
Whatever Giovanni said, it convinced Giuseppe to leave her alone with Rain. His body picked up and chained to desperate hands. Now it’s her, Izac and a hanged man.
“I need to do something,” Izac almost sounds hesitant. Not to leave her with Rain, no, but to leave her.
She hums an acknowledgement. Green eyes trained on Rain’s all seeing ones. Stuck in his own mind by the wood that pierces his heart.
Luna looks at Izac. They must separate once more, after all they had gotten themselves into. He looks onto her, a confidence newly made after meeting Mother Pasta.
He leaves and she is reminded that she must be cleansed. That at this time, she is nothing but a tainted smear.
She sits, pulling her legs to her chest. She remembers the nights, sleeping on surfaces unfit for her. Treading where she was told not to go. The days filled with hollowness followed by laughter filled nights.
This solitary feeling she knew from a young age. Masking its familiarity with “friends” and alcohol could never blemish this embedded bond.
A made loner.
The coolness of the locker does not bother her. The concrete pushes her bones but she does not move. She could sit in one place for hours, days, and never make a sound or move an inch.
Confessionals are a form of solitary.
Pews a lineup of sin, sinner and saints.
She hadn’t prayed in three years and yet this night she asked for God’s protection. Asked for his forgiveness for protecting herself against her enemies.
Maybe she’s never changed.
“We’re in big trouble, huh?” Rain cannot respond. He cannot even blink. “It’s okay,” she gives him her best smile, “we’ll figure it out.” She leaves the last thought within her head.
They have to figure it out. Their un-lives are hanging on a precipice they cannot even see.
A while or no time at all, Dominic Giovanni and his wort of a nephew return to the cellar. She’s aware enough to stand up and move when Dominic approaches Rain.
What she did not expect was for him to open his mouth to supply a blood drip but allow an otherworldly tongue to roll out of Rain’s mouth.
Her reaction is reflexive as her hands go to cover her eyes.
The tongue has teeth. It’s metres long.
“You see that?” She wished she hadn’t, “it seems our Rain is possessed.” Returning from the shield of her eyes, Luna decides to make her intelligence useful.
The extreme thirst, mutated tongue and change to complexion are not usual changes. Possession is correct. Something not technically of this plain uses Rain’s body as host and it is not demonic explicitly in nature and it is certainly not his mother.
Bane. Breach. Seems like they created an occultist wet dream by accident.
“I could perform an exorcism.” A Lesser Sanctification of the Water ritual and now exorcism in one day? She’s hitting religious milestones in hours rather than years.
Giovanni’s eyes are quick to look at her, “a fellow Catholic?” Oh yeah. Italians. So particular about their type of God worship.
“Orthodox.” She could write essays of how their detachment from the original Messiah makes all their worship but a weak imitation of devotion but he would not listen to her.
He says as much with, “we will wait for Ambrogino. Rain is not himself.” Doesn’t take a fucking eye doctor to see as much.
And she is cornered again. Forced into a spot of inaction. She cannot leave Rain to gather the materials needed for the act and to do so would be disrespectful to Dominic. Again.
She is alone with the body of Rain once more. His monstrous characteristics are more of study after the initial fright.
“What would you do?” She walks around his suspended body. “Now if you were religious you would probably perform the exorcism but,” she rounds back to his front, “if you knew Giuseppe lay waiting in the dark you wouldn’t leave me alone.”
She steps closer, “I mean I hope not-“
-Rain’s jacket pockets are abnormally overpacked.
Her hands start to unpack them.
A familiar puzzle box enters her grasp. She stares at it. Luna thought Rain had disposed of it after Stallion made a scene of revealing their skeletons. Disappearing and reappearing acts are not her favourite things. Not the book and not this damn puzzle. She puts it back.
Next item she knows by touch alone.
A possessed pocket watch. If she was smart, she would leave it. Let Rain shoulder the blame on paralysed shoulders as the Giovanni’s find a way to manipulate another one of their discoveries. It’s irrational and yet she pockets the watch into her own jacket.
His wallet and phone are normal and she cares less about what they contain. She has no need for his money and she couldn’t access the device if she wanted due to password protection.
The folded printer paper is not something she expects.
Four pieces neatly entangled and the handwriting is undeniably Rain’s.
“…consider the rest of this my will and testament.”
It’s really that serious, isn’t it? Drafting wills and personal notes.
Even though Rain said to not read the others, she had to. I mean, it’s what the old her and the new her have in common. Some rules were made to be broken.
Eclipse…
After reading she places the paper neatly folded back into Rain’s pocket.
Eclipse would protect what’s closest to her. Maybe not as brash, maybe she would be softer around the edges and dress in brighter colours but she would say what needed to be said. No matter the expense. Especially if it kept her people alive.
The text to Izac is simple and straightforward:
WE NEED TO TALK BEFORE YOUR EXCLUSIVE MEETING.
************************************************************************************************************
Thoughts from Izac:
The shoreline
Time moves ever forward, no exceptions. We sit at the edge of the water, tossing the stones of our actions. Some ripples return to us small, innocuous. Others turn to waves and break against the shore. It is only once they arrive, we realise the weight of what was thrown.
When Luna and I returned to the Crowbar, it felt surprisingly empty. The night had been a long one and with everything that was to come, I was hoping to be able to talk as a group to discuss our plan for Pyrmont. Giovanni was out preparing and according to Bruce, Stallion was playing guard to the last of our company. Luna rushed downstairs to confront Stallion on the situation, true to form. Part of me wanted answers too.
I’ve never liked the basement, from the day I joined Giovanni’s employment, I’ve made all attempts to avoid it. The countless missing persons and lost loved ones. The patrons that fail to see their drinks as nothing more than that. I’ve been told that their last moments are good ones before being strung up as ‘kegs’, but part of me doubts Giovanni has that kind of consideration for his food. For the moment, he wasn’t there, and Luna was insistent to get past Stal and see for herself what had become of Rain.
Rain fell to his beast. Whatever has been weighing on his mind must have been too much. At least he didn’t turn the ground floor into a charnel house so people in the know must’ve acted quickly to keep him controlled. Luna rushed into the hidden freezer in the back and found Giuseppe in an embrace with the motionless body of Rain, shirtless and staked. I feel for his position. I wish I could something for him, but diving in blind won’t help matters at this point.
Luna was furious, spitting back at the jabs and goads of Guiseppe. Until now he had seemed relatively above board, just a bit unorthodox. But he is a Giovanni, and it seems he has learned from his uncle well. He was in insistent on not leaving, even going as far as to suggest diablery was mine and Luna’s intention for the privacy. With our efforts last night both of us could have easily handled him out of the freezer, but discretion and not to mention the family name, stalled us in those efforts.
Trivialities and small talk didn’t persuade him to move either. Brining up our shopping escapade froze Luna solid as an unsettling look crossed Giuseppe’s face. Sometimes I don’t know when to shut it, I’m going to have to learn that lesson quick. Thankfully he left after a brief call with the old man.
There wasn’t much for me to do but clutter the space. Luna stuck close to Rain, now locked back into the medieval restraints he was taken from. If I had a choice, I would have stayed. I wanted to. I left her them there.
I noticed Stallion speaking another patron, a shirtless, scruffily kempt man. They talked for a minute or two before swiftly leaving. So much for a team conversation. While I would’ve preferred to be anywhere but in the basement bar, I have a job to do. Doing a quick survey, I could spot at the edges of some the telltale signs of Obfuscation. If I hadn’t been dragged away to loading the ordinance… I want to avoid favours where I can, enough cash will should get someone to show me the trick to it.
Giovanni has set up the meeting with the prince. Time for me to make good to Mothers favour. I wont lie that there is apprehension to seeing him again. With everyone watching, he will no doubt have done at least some homework, I just hope not enough. Mother insists I don’t come back with anything but a yes. I don’t want to see my time with the Bone Gnawers be for nothing. I can’t let it fall through.
I like you scared
Time moves ever forward. The ripples are now waves at the shoreline. They loom over all of us, a combination of our actions merging into the wall we have to face. There is high ground. There is still time. For some of us at least… Speaking of
There is a chance I won
Notable NPCs
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel and entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni. Some sort of relative of Mr Giovanni.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, more resilient and sometimes show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
A Strange Life 