Gabriel's jaw slackened and he listelessly moved towards the edge of rooftop nearest the adjacent building where Porter stood. The old man looked astonishingly gaunt for someone recently restored to life.

[i:42368a25d4]"Porter..."[/i:42368a25d4] his voice was thin and exhausted. He raised a single finger towards the one time Gangrel.

[i:42368a25d4]"What for Christ's sake?!"[/i:42368a25d4] Porter gasped, one hand clutching his chest. If Gabriel noticed the old man's anguish, he pretended not to.

[i:42368a25d4]"Behind you!"[/i:42368a25d4] he cried at last, breaking from his stupor. Porter turned just in time to clumsily avoid a viscious swipe by one of a mass of decaying creatures who had managed their way up the building and onto the same roof as him!

The combat veteran, once reknowned for his abilities in a scrap, now stood helpless, completely aghast at the monstrosities that lurched towards him. They were all of similiar construct. Vaguely humanoid, they could easily be mistaken for the zombies and walking dead one saw on the old Saturday Night Horror Matinee. The kind that milled about mindlessly, rising from the grave in their work clothes, although why they weren't buried in suits like normal corpses was beyond Porter.

Given his unfortunate proximity to the creatures however, Porter could see they were horrifically unique. They were skeletal in framework, with great uneven masses of decaying muscle wrapped around the bones in odd and unnatural patterns. Each beast bulged in certain places and seemed almost waifish in others. Long tracts of rotten, loose skin held inexplicably to the creatures and even their limbs were oddly positioned and of various lengths. Some of the shuffling deformities had one arm that nearly dragged behind them across the rooftop, while the other was pathetically shrunken and useless.

The features of their faces (when they even HAD features) were exagerated and absurd. Some had massive noses, clearly too large for the amount of skin they possessed. The result was tears revealing bone and cartiledge as well as the skin creating a tent-effect, making the entire face triangular and effectively wiping out any traces of cheek bones. Some had brows so heavy their eyes could not be seen. Porter quickly noticed this was not to their advantage as they stumbled clumsily about, bumping into their compatriots awkwardly. Still others had impossibly big teeth that created an inability to close their gaping jaws.

The one directly in front of him, the same one who had just moments before taken a massive strike at him, had what appeared to have once been a pair of ridiculously large ears, but now were little more than lifeless sheets of skin that hung loosely from the side of his head. Each time the corpse would move, the skins flaps would shake terribly, sending a shower of dead skin flakes floating and dancing in his wake.

The creature's lips had presumeably rotted off long ago, for he was stuck in a perpetual smile, displaying two rows of jagged, rotten teeth. The thing's jaw opened slowly and a oily, slithering tongue flickered to and fro like a bloody, rotten snake.

There was the crack of pistol-fire from behind and suddenly the entire mess that had been the thing's head exploded, covering the stunned Porter in bits of brain and stinking flesh. The husk fell to it's knees and then straight forward, it's now gaping neck spewing forth torrents of black, foul smelling plasma onto Porter's boots. He recoiled in disgust.

[i:42368a25d4]"Come on Porter! Hurry!"[/i:42368a25d4] Gabriel cried out from behind him. The mass of creatures hesitated, more perplexed than frightened and then shuffled forward en masse. Without pausing to gauge the distance, the old Gangrel turned and leapt the gap between the two buildings.

His feet barely caught the ledge on the opposite building, and suddenly Porter found himself dangerously teetering over the edge, his arms doing frantic circles to maintain some sort of balance. Gabriel grabbed him by the coat and yanked him onto the rooftop, where they both momentarily collapsed, Porter in pain, Gabriel in relief.

[i:42368a25d4]"Good to have you aboard."[/i:42368a25d4] he laughed. Porter didn't.

The three of them ran first to the stairwell leading off the roof, but the hungry snarls and hisses from the buildings innards helped them reconsider, instead shimmying down the rusty drainpipe to the dusty street below.

There they crept along the rows of silent buildings, making their way towards where they had left the coterie initially.

[i:82851b3d67]"Christ...what [b:82851b3d67]were[/b:82851b3d67] those things?"[/i:82851b3d67] Gabriel asked somewhat rhetorically, glancing over his shoulder at the building which was now swarming with the things. They scowered the rooftop and climbed unnaturally over the wall, like insects. Big, rotten insects that shot in and out of the windows like hornets in their nest.

[i:82851b3d67]"Townspeople."[/i:82851b3d67] the little girl whispered without looking up. She jogged lithely between Gabriel and Porter, a dainty but dirty hand over the knapsack to keep the molotov cocktails from clinking together. Her grimey, ink black hair hung loosely over her shoulders and bounced softly as she moved. She couldn't have been more than twelve, Gabriel thought.

[i:82851b3d67]"Townspeople? They don't like any people I've ever met."[/i:82851b3d67] Porter grumbled in between gasps. Now Gabriel [b:82851b3d67]did[/b:82851b3d67] notice how he held his chest in anguish as they ran.

[i:82851b3d67]"They were people, now they're just husks."[/i:82851b3d67] she replied in a soft English accent that put her strangely out of place in the tiny French villa.

[i:82851b3d67]"Husks? What happened here exactly?"[/i:82851b3d67]

[i:82851b3d67]"It was his fault..."[/i:82851b3d67] she hissed.

[i:82851b3d67]"Whose?"[/i:82851b3d67]

[i:82851b3d67]"GABRIEL! PORTER!"[/i:82851b3d67] a woman's shrill cry pierced the silent town square, and it was all Gabriel could do not fall backwards completely startled. He looked up and spotted Isabella sprinting across the town square, her eyes wild and terrified.

[i:82851b3d67]"Quiet!"[/i:82851b3d67] Porter shot back, pointing back towards the building where the husks clammered and crawled. Isabella did not shout anymore, but she looked no calmer, in fact she didn't even take note of the tiny child that led them.

[i:82851b3d67]"Quickly! You have to come quickly!"[/i:82851b3d67] she whispered. A long, deep gash ran along her cheek, splitting the once beautiful visage like a torn painting. [i:82851b3d67]"Oh Christ it's horrible."[/i:82851b3d67]

[i:82851b3d67]"Slow down. What is it?"[/i:82851b3d67] Gabriel asked, grabbing her shoulders.

[i:82851b3d67]"It's a...fuckin' shit I don't KNOW what it is!"[/i:82851b3d67] she sobbed. The little girl shot a cautious look back towards the building and Gabriel read her message loud and clear.

[i:82851b3d67]"Okay okay...just take us to whatever it is."[/i:82851b3d67]

Morrighan barred her teeth in a death's head grimace at the creature wielding his whining weapon. [i:00751a925a]"Screw you!"[/i:00751a925a] she hissed defiantly at his own caracture of a smile that prefaced another swipe at her retreating cheek. Trickles of blood from the chest furrow began to soak into the surrounding fabric and hung heavy in the dead air with an coppery tang. The body on the reclined couch behind the dentist stirred and sat up with another hair-raising moan. Hell-flamed eyes latched onto beads of crimson dotting the edges of the wound and a dry, withered tongue licked dessicated lips.

Blackness hovered at the edges of her sight as she struggled to pull even a small measure of air into her already laboring lungs. The arms that held her continued their constriction and more ebony fireflies danced in her vision.

With the force of a lashing gale, Alekz's voice roared across her memories, slicing into the beckoning oblivion with all the cold contempt his voice was capable of. [i:00751a925a]"There's a way out of [/i:00751a925a]ANY[i:00751a925a] situation, now get your mind out of the wasteland it's in and [b:00751a925a]THINK[/b:00751a925a]!"[/i:00751a925a] A frigid silence reigned briefly before a favorite parting shot of his swam to the fore, [i:00751a925a]"Or the punishment, this time, will be worse than you can yet imagine..."[/i:00751a925a] Alezandre Thain had had a way of making her former mistress, an amoral Tzimisce assassin, seem like an angel.

She raised her eyes to the eerily empty ones of the drill wielding assailant and mentally consigned him her master's best regards as her mind raced to assess what options were still left. The arms around her were strong and solid... not good. A previous kick had proven she couldn't connect with her captor's body... [i:00751a925a]*sigh*[/i:00751a925a]... not good. Blood seemed to attract them.. again, not good. Wait!.. maybe...

Timing was going to be critical and without her timeline ability, she could only rely on the fact that her attackers were nothing more than burnt out shells of their former selves, relying more on instinct and cunning rather than cold-blooded calculation. She let herself go lax in the gorilla's arms and allowed as much of her upper torso to fall forward as she could, feigning unconsciousness. The self-styled dentist cackled with glee, in his triumph, as the [i:00751a925a]"patient"[/i:00751a925a] slid forward, off the recliner and began to shuffle forward.

Morag planted her feet about knee height on the wall behind, just as the [i:00751a925a]"doctor"[/i:00751a925a] brought his arm down in a move intended to jam the pointed rotary as deep into the brain as it could be put. Bully-boy's forearms provided the pivot the she needed as she applied a curving downward pressure and, because he'd not been expecting such a ruse, she flipped him over her head. The previous whine reached a grating squeal and then abruptly fell into silence as the body landed atop it. King Kong never had a chance to cry out, his spine had been severed at the nape.

A pair of astonished faces stared a the Maven for a moment and then glanced downward, only to brighten in unholy joy at the pool of blood that began to flow from under the fallen's neck. Instantly, both creatures fell to their knees and scrabbled for the wound's edges, tearing strips of flesh and gobbets of muscle, then stuffing them into their suddenly cavernous mouths. They ignored the gasping and panting women who gaped at them in horrified fascination.

As the first dry heave hit the back of her throat, Morrighan bolted for safety, not even bothering to close the door she smashed against the side of the building with a frantic fling. She made it, somehow, to a patch of vacant grass, a lawn or something, before she tried spewing up anything the [b:00751a925a]might[/b:00751a925a] have been in her stomach... up until now. When she'd spewed up everything she could she simply crumpled over sideways and curled into a tight ball, waiting for the trembling to stop or someone to find her. Which ever came first. She prayed it would be a friendly face.

"Take care of the girl."

"Eloise."

"Huh?"

"My name is Eloise."

"Right. Okay. Gabriel? Take care of Eloise. I'll try and find the others." Porter grimaced at the thought of going alone, but pressed on with the idea anyway.

"Here, take these." Eloise pushed her three remaining fire bombs into his weathered hand.

"Thanks lass." He smiled at her, pushing her chin softly with his partly clenched fist.

"Keep the home fires burning, Gabey." He grinned then trudged off across the gravel strewn path Isabella had led them to.

-----

She stirred from her prone position, hoisting herself onto her feet. Something moved out of the corner of her eyes, something fast and moving low to the ground. She tried to swallow back the panic that rose like bile in her throat, sweat pooled in the hollows of her legs and back as adrenaline surged through her muscles for the first time in months.

[i:83d69b0455]It's nothing, Morrie. Just a cat. Just a cat. Ignore it.[/i:83d69b0455]

Porter scouted around the central buildings. Husks moved listlessly, silently on apparent standby. As if they could only move when prompted by stimuli. His heart twisted in his chest as he drew a hard, icy lungful of air.

Something moved rapidly. Holding itself impossibly close to the ground. He squinted trying to focus on the shape. His hand reaching for a fire bomb as he recognised it.

Bent backwards at the waist, hands touching the ground in an obscene parody of a quadruped, head twisted and missing a lower jaw. A long tongue lolling out, tasting the earth as it ran. It was a husk, unlike the others in it's movements, moving with purpose, almost with cunning. He followed with a pained trot, keeping his shotgun aimed in the direction of the husks that hovered listlessly.

[i:d575ec652a]" It's Ewan, he's not himself no more.....believe me that is the understatement of the year.....I personally think this place is cursed I get such a strong feeling of De Ja Vu as well and I don't know why I've no recollection of being here before, maybe that is because I am cursed....as we all are....cursed that is..the blood of cain that courses through our body that we are all meant to be eternally grateful for"[/i:d575ec652a]

Gabriel looked at her slightly perplexed, it was the most animated dialogue that had ever issued from Issy and he watched her as a slight sheen of cold sweat appeared on her forehead , even though the air was as cold as ice.

[i:d575ec652a]"Well we either embrace it or we reject it ...we all have the choice"[/i:d575ec652a]

Before he could move she was on him, the sheer shock of what she was doing overwhelming him before he realised what was happening.
The pale moonlight reflected in her deep purple eyes as she sat astride him, her lips curled back over her fangs.

[i:d575ec652a]" Choice......do anyone of us have the choice? the choice to be like this ? I'Ve spent years trying to find a cure, to rid myself of this virus that infests my veins ....I hate being like this ...everyone I grow fond of dies ....do you know how many times I've sat waiting for the sunrise to come up and burn me to ashes ...to end this nightmare that is my life? .....do you know what stops me from letting the rays wash over me? Vampire self preservation .....there's me trying to find a cure and the virus still finds a damn way to survive life's a bitch ...but then so is being undead"[/i:d575ec652a]

(Ayup me ducks ....I had a bit of a muse...not very good I know but hey im posting :)

[i:213d3eea57]Morrie? Morrie, get on your feet! Get up you stupid little bitch, or so help me I’ll....

“Alekz? Is that you? I’m scared, Alekz...Maestro. I’m so scared.”[/i:213d3eea57]

The voice that answered was grating, harsh...weathered by things colder than climate or time.

[i:213d3eea57]“No it’s not fucking Alekz! It’s Porter. Now get on your feet now! Or I’m letting [b:213d3eea57]him[/b:213d3eea57] have his way with you!”[/i:213d3eea57]

Her eyes snapped open at the word [b:213d3eea57]him[/b:213d3eea57].

Looking up she found herself staring up at the familiarly battered figure of the former Gangrel, shotgun in hand. She followed the line of the gun barrel and saw his [b:213d3eea57]him[/b:213d3eea57]. It crept forward hesitantly, long languorous tongue testing the earth before it with a thickness that turned her stomach. Bent backwards unnaturally, the Husk seemed to hover impatiently as if looking for a window of opportunity.

Porter gritted his teeth, trying desperately to control his thundering, fragile heart. He barked at her again to take a petrol bomb from his belt, her fingers rediscovering their deftness and absorbing the form and mass of the girl’s simple arsenal.

“[i:213d3eea57]Throw it at his feet.”[/i:213d3eea57]

The bottle arced from her fingertips, shattering at the Husk’s hideous fingers and feet, spraying the clearly unfazed monster with it’s sleeping content. The Husk growled as if laughing.

[i:213d3eea57]“He’s clever this one. But not clever enough.”[/i:213d3eea57]

Porter fired the shotgun, sending red hot pellets earthward. Tiny little sparks aflame and insistent on touching the petrol. The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. Flames leapt from the ground, catching the Husk off guard. It shrieked an all too human cry of fear then, and rattled off screaming as fire danced along its back.

[i:213d3eea57]“The others are waiting for you. Get your arse over to the townhall! And don’t look back. I’m done for but I’m taking these bastards with me.”

“Porter, you’re human remember? You can’t think you stand a chance against these things? It’s suicide!”[/i:213d3eea57]

He grinned weakly. [i:213d3eea57]“Suicide...ah well I’m damned already.” [/i:213d3eea57]He pushed a petrol bomb into her hand, giving her a lighter. He pointed towards the building the others were heading for and sloped off.

-------------

Gabriel turned away from Isabella’s mindless rant for just a second. Terrible realisation setting in.

[i:213d3eea57]“Where’s Eloise? Where’s the girl?”[/i:213d3eea57]

((whoa....this is back!?

[i:6690e2801e]"Where's the girl?"[/i:6690e2801e]

The words hung unanswered in the solitude of the night. Gabriel was beset with scenarios regarding the girls fate, each more terrifying than the prior. Within a moment, Gabriel's slight figure shot forth from the safety and cover the tiny alleyway in which the group hid, and plunged himself into the street.

Frantically, he scanned for the child, but was met with little success.

[i:6690e2801e]"Get back in here...she's gone!"[/i:6690e2801e] Isabella hissed from the alleyway, her eyes wide with trepidation.

He moved forward regardless of her warning...a figure began to emerge from murky depths of the fog. It walked slowly forward, barely visible. Gabriel stopped in his tracks and peered at the silhouette.

Suddenly the shambling figure jerked violently backwards and bent over on itself at the waist, falling onto to all fours. It lurched forward with a jerk and crabwalked towards Gabriel, it's gaping maw now visible. Behind it, more husks began to appear from the fog, their vacant eyesockets somehow conveying a ravenous hunger.

[i:6690e2801e]"RUN!"[/i:6690e2801e] Gabriel cried, bolting back into the alleyway. Instantly, the coterie broke into flight down the alley. Like a wave of pestulance the husks spilled into the meager pathways opening, some taking to the walls like rotting spiders while the bulk of them flooded the dank ground.

Frantically sprinting as fast as his weakened legs would carry him, Gabriel emptied the contents of his snub nosed .38 into the mass of dead behind him. The alleyway seemed impossibly long, it's end concealed by darkness. He could no longer make out his companions.

The opaque blackness melted away, revealing a dead end. Gabriel slid to a halt, instantly twirling and bring his weapon to bear. As his back hit the wall, he peered at the oncoming horde through the empty shell casings that sat in the pistol's cylinder.

[i:6690e2801e]"Shit..."[/i:6690e2801e] he muttered, wishing he had saved a bullet for himself. He raised his arms and felt their hands upon him, pulling him violently to the side.

The end took a bit longer than anticipated...in fact it was taking damn long...

He opened his eyes to see Isabella standing over him, a high roof above her. Behind her, 182 strained against the door which every so often would shudder as another rotting corpse flailed against the other side. Morag joined him in pushing. The ringing in Gabriel's head slowly gave way to the shrieking wales and splintering wood.

With Isabella's aide, they managed to brace the door with a set of dilapidated pews. Firmly braced against their inhuman foes, Gabriel examined his surroundings for the first time.

He stood within what was undoubtedly once a church, but apparently not hosted a parish in some time. It was one giant room, lacking even a set of back offices like most modern churches. A high steepled roof, held together by rotting rafters so black and corroded they were barely visible, arched high overhead. Long, thin chasms striped the roof through which tiny slivers of the brackish night sky poured through. Every so often, the glowing ether would flash black as a putrid body scrambled across the rooftop, searching desperately for access.

The floor of the building was wide and barren, other than the raking scratch marks from where they had hauled the pews. The windows had long since been boarded up and forgotten. At the front of the church, elevated on a platform, an old fashioned raised pulpit stood, derelect.

Spatters of dark matter splotched the floor...Gabriel instantly recognized it as dried blood, black and thickened.

The wood at the door splintered and groaned. Broken nails scratched at the door.

[i:6690e2801e]"There isn't much time."[/i:6690e2801e] Morag whispered, her eyes locked on the door.

[i:6690e2801e]"What do we do?"[/i:6690e2801e] panic was clear in Isabella's voice.

[i:6690e2801e]"Spread out, arm yourselves."[/i:6690e2801e]

((boop! posted. :D

Isabella scanned the room quickly merely out of self preservation than anything else, well that and her kin ....because that's what they were to her if she truly admitted it to herself...her kin.....vampires.....the undead.....the cursed.

[i:ea08962e80]" spread out ....arm yourselves"[/i:ea08962e80]


With what ? she carried no weapons .....all there was to snatch in the abandoned church was pieces of wood and the odd silver candlestick.....neither of them any use to her really.
The pews that they had lodged behind the door began to splinter as the hourde beyond it became too much for the rotten timber.

A Cellar....most churches had a cellar...a crypt.......


[i:ea08962e80]" Isabella what the hell" [/i:ea08962e80]


Gabriel looked at her almost annoyed as she seemed less intent on arming herself and more on scanning the floor.

[i:ea08962e80]" use your head ventrue...are you not the clan that leads us? ......church ....crypt.....cellar.....most have a way out ....as long as your willing to get your fingers dirty...can you dig? or do you need someone to do it for you ?"[/i:ea08962e80]

A smile was all she gave to dispel the backlash that anyone once would have received from him.....but given the circumstances he was in no mood to do anything else but cast a beady eye on her as she walked around the floor looking for some exit from the husks that followed them.

[i:ea08962e80] " look ..can you see here ....there's a rectangle marked out on the floor...its a doorway to the crypt im sure it is "[/i:ea08962e80]



(soz going to have to break off im at work soon )

The girl ran along fog filling alleys. The stench and sounds of Husks clogging her small nose as the creatures stalked for fresh meat. Those blind by their disfigurements bumped and cajoled betwixt those more suited for pursuit, drawing angry lunges from the “superior” manifestations. Eloise had witnessed too much for her age. Too much, in truth, for most regardless of age. Her tiny frame heaved with effort rather than sensible fear as she ducked into a doorway, sudden reflex and instinct pulling the recently fashioned fire bomb from her pocket.

[i:82766ec47f]“I’d really rather you didn’t.” [/i:82766ec47f]Porter fell from shadows opposite her “dugout”. His features straining, pain filled. His shirt dark streaked crimson, shredded fabric betraying the injuries beneath. He clutched his chest before falling to his knees.

Her eyes, chilled by the things she’d seen, suddenly filled with a confused emotion.

[i:82766ec47f]“Grand-père ?”

“Got me confused with someone else, li’l darlin’.”[/i:82766ec47f]

His words fell on deaf ears as she flung her spindly arms around his neck and squeezed, sobs heralding the release of pent emotions.

He found himself returning the embrace, finding quiet escape in the simple gesture. Clearing his throat he pulled back from her and smiled, kissing her forehead.

[i:82766ec47f]“Came looking for me huh? You shouldn’t have wasted your time on an old mutt like me, Eloise. Now, let’s see if we can find the others. You’ll be safer with....Husks!”[/i:82766ec47f]

His words silenced themselves as he caught sight of a Husk hunting party. The Husks were different from the others. They moved with precision and cunning as though driven by more intellect than hunger. They swept the streets, inch by inch. Moving slowly but relentlessly.

[i:82766ec47f]“We have to move, Eloise. I don’t think I can make it. But I can slow them down so you can get clear.”[/i:82766ec47f]

She shook her head, drying tears glistening on her cheeks.

[i:82766ec47f]“Sweet kid.”[/i:82766ec47f]

He resigned himself to her presence and pulled his shotgun under his arm, using it to push himself to his feet. Once upright he levelled the gun aiming it ahead and signalled for her to follow.

The Husks moved up the street left of their position. Growing ever closer, Porter imagined he could smell the death-breath from their maws as they drooled on the ground at their feet and fingers.

Waiting for a window, he suddenly barrelled forward as fast as a shuffling, grievously injured man could. Eloise trotted beside him, her own eyes joining his in it’s monitoring of the Husk’s progress.

Porter’s tired legs betrayed him, sending him tumbling into a trashcan. The sudden crash alerted the hunters to their prey’s location, prompting the fetid things to howl and cackle with horrid glee. Porter cursed before he felt her arms tug at his sleeve, pulling him to his feet again. Leaning more on her than he wanted, the two half ran half scrambled for cover. Husks bellowing as they swarmed up the street.

The shotgun spat buckshot at a door-lock, shattering the wood around the lock rendering the mechanism useless. He kicked at it and pulled the girl inside. Once inside his eye filled with sudden hope. Canisters marked “Flammable” surrounded them. He dragged several to bar the door and arranged the others that were their defences breached, the resultant explosion would obliterate the building and any Husk nearby.

Eloise looked panicked at last. Was she to die after all?

Porter nodded to the floor of the far wall, a grate that led outside made his intentions clear.

He pulled the grate cover free, the short tunnel beyond just big enough for a small person to crawl through. She shook her head again.

[i:82766ec47f]“Stop it! Listen to me! I’m finished. I can’t go with you but I can damn well make sure they don’t either!”

“But Grand-père...”

“No buts! You get out. You hide. You survive! My friends will put an end to this madness. Then you’ll be safe! Understand?”[/i:82766ec47f]

She moved as though to refuse, her lip trembling. But stopped herself and simply nodded.

He helped her into the tunnel and replaced the grate above her. Crawling through she looked back once to see his weary weathered smile look back at her.

[i:82766ec47f]“Vamoose damnit.”[/i:82766ec47f]

The Husks reached the door as she pulled herself clear. Hiding in an alley across the street. Inside, Porter cocked the shotgun, thought of the girl and pulled the trigger.


Three hours passed.

Eloise stroked his battered, fire stained face as she cradled him on her tiny lap. Her eyes looking back at the inferno her friend had released upon the town. She wept then, pulling him to her breast and sobbing great, rasping lung draining gasps.

Something twitched on her leg.

She looked down to see his hand judder.

[i:82766ec47f]“Grand-père!?” [/i:82766ec47f]

Porter’s eyes opened weakly, his face sooty and stained with blood.

[i:82766ec47f]“Hey there, li’l darlin’. Guess we made it huh?” [/i:82766ec47f]

She nodded, dragging him from a patch of greyed, dead grass onto a patch of fresh green. Suddenly he started to spasm. His body thundering and shaking. He choked and gurgled, eye bulging as his heart finally gave out.

A dark cancer reached his heart. Enveloping it. Spreading its sickness.

She sat dumbstruck. Sense having finally been torn from her. Tears poured from her eyes, unaccompanied by any sobs or sniffs. Her heart broken.

An explosion of movement threw his arms around her, curved dagger-like fangs thudded into her throat as his Beast ascended. The Gangrel risen, the girl’s life drained in gouts of cloying copper. The Beast drank it’s fill and kept drinking, growing fat with the bloodlust. Then just as suddenly, it stopped.


Porter cradled the girl in his arms. His weathered hands stroked her death frozen face. Blood tears stained fresh trails on his bloody face. Guilt stabbed his heart deeper than any blade. He threw back his head, fangs gleaming, and howled his rage.

In the town, the few surviving Husks scattered with sudden fear.

The constant scratching of the husks halted momentarily and was replaced by a long, mournful bellow which Gabriel recognized instantly.

[i:863bc06f29]"Porter..."[/i:863bc06f29]

As the cold silence of the night ebbed back in and the Gangrel's sorrow became but a memory, the frantic scratching returned with increased fervor.

[i:863bc06f29]"Open it."[/i:863bc06f29]

At another point, Isabella might have considered objecting to such an authoratative tone by someone who was practically a stranger to her. But one look at the Ventrue's eyes revealed the nature of the command. His once sterling green eyes were pale and sunken, his skin hollow and lifeless, despite not being vampiric. The statement was half command, half plea.

Isabella grabbed at the edges of the rectangle, tarnished and nearly indescernable from apparent lack of use.

[i:863bc06f29]"Help me for Christ's sake!"[/i:863bc06f29] she cried out, the sound of wood splintering now spurring her heart on. Gabriel and Morag were instantly by her side, wedging their fingers into the grime and scooping it out in great, filthy semi-solid lines.

Shit. No Curse of Caine. No power. No strength. No cool black trench coats.

The three of them pulled wildly at the trapdoor, their muscles weak and human. Gradually, the ancient hinges gave way and slowly, but determinedly, the trapdoor began to open, revealing a dark chasm below.

[i:863bc06f29]"Okay...lets go!!!"[/i:863bc06f29] Morag cried out. One by one, they fled into the darkness, 182 hauling the trapdoor shut behind him. Feeling blindly, he slid the lock mechanism into place and walked carefully down the rudimentary steps to join the others in the pitch black passageway.

((NEXT!

Whether or not the husks were still ravenously clawing at the church's exterior was anyones guess, for after descending the narrow stone staircase they were effectively insulated from any sound. So they stood at the bottom of the staircase, desperately trying to adjust to the darkness and listening morosely to one anothers newly acquired heartbeats.

[i:54b762cb40]"Do you feel that?"[/i:54b762cb40] 182 asked quietly, barely registering so much as a whisper. For a moment no one spoke.

[i:54b762cb40]"It's a breeze."[/i:54b762cb40] Morag stated flatly, then her voice picked up slightly. [i:54b762cb40]"That means there's a way out!"[/i:54b762cb40]

...[i:54b762cb40]clink[/i:54b762cb40]...[i:54b762cb40]flick[/i:54b762cb40]....

The thin stone walls of the tunnel glowed a warm orange as the silver Zippo lighter in Gabriel's grip sprung to life. The construction was crude. Great gaps to nowhere stared out from between the brickwork. Everything was permeated by a thick, greenish-brown moss that extended ceiling to floor and threatened to trip up the unwary traveller.

Strange, undecipherable scrawls were etched in the stonework not overtaken with moss and moisture. Several times Gabriel leaned in close but could make nothing concrete out, beyond the fact that they were indeed man-made.

They walked in silence, each praying that Gabriel's meager lighter contained enough butane to see them through the remainder of the tunnel. There was a sudden drop in air pressure, and suddenly each of them was acutely aware they found themselves in a much larger room, the majority of which was obscurred in darkness.

Creeping along the perimeter of the room Gabriel gradually found a series of unlit candles and lit them in quiet secession. The room, now illuminated, appeared to be a small study or sanctuary of some sort, the centerpiece being a rickedy writing desk. Several bookshelves lined the walls, as well as a few obscure articles nailed to an ancient looking bulletin board.

Wordlessly, the corterie set about examining the room.

[i:54b762cb40]"All these newspaper clippings are about cult activity in the region...although my French could be a bit rusty..."[/i:54b762cb40] Morrag said examining the various articles. [i:54b762cb40]"...the oldest dates back to the mid 19th century."[/i:54b762cb40]

[i:54b762cb40]"Looks like whoever made use of this place was a bit obsessed with the subject."[/i:54b762cb40] Isabella concurred, running her finger over the various tomes and books.

[i:54b762cb40]"Look at this...a journal."[/i:54b762cb40] Gabriel picked up the heavy, leather-bound book and presented it to Morrag, who in turn held a lit candle up to the thick, yellow paper and began translating...

[i:54b762cb40]"...March 3rd, 1895. All is lost! Even the Chief of Police is infected by their taint! There's no hope for the good Christians remaining in Oradour-sur-Glane any longer.

Blast it all! I had warned them from the start of this fools errand. But they would not heed my words. And now this devil's work is the result. Foolish peasants! A few heads of cattle are picked off by wolves and immediately talk of the Beast of Gevaudan begins!

As though such blasphemies were not sacriledge enough, then for the town elders to hire those two Godless Siscilians as some sort of solution! I told them...trust in Christ...but they were far more interested in the hunters and their ridiculous claims of divinity...

...so now...now they are shells of humans. To gaze upon them one would think they are freshly deceased! Their eyes haunt me in my sleep...

...now the entire town is infected. Oh strength Lord. Grant me strength! I will speak with the Baron tomorrow...hopefully he will have the wisdom to overturn the Council and stop this blasphemy once and for all.[/i:54b762cb40]

There was the sharp retort of thunder and an accompanying flash that drew the corterie's eyes towards the far side of the room. Momentarily illuminated, a doorway shone brightly.

[i:54b762cb40]"That's our way out!"[/i:54b762cb40] Isabella cried, her nervousness now rising to the surface.

They all rushed towards the exit nearly tumbling over one another as they did so. Moments later they found themselves amidst the nightscape of the countryside, soft rolling hills split by a humble country lane. But in the gloom even the soft features of the French countryside appeared sinister and deceitful.

[i:54b762cb40]"Thank Caine.[/i:54b762cb40] Isabella huffed. [i:54b762cb40]"I hate tight spaces. My heart was beat...."[/i:54b762cb40] she fell silent.

[i:54b762cb40]"...my hearts not beating at all!"[/i:54b762cb40]

[i:883527a9f2]"She's right. Mine's still as well."[/i:883527a9f2] Morag whispered into the brief silence, her eyes glistening like stones on the silt of a sunny brook from the renewed pallor of her face. Another volley of silence and they had all confirmed they were once again walking corpses.

[i:883527a9f2]"What the fuck does it all mean?"[/i:883527a9f2] 182 posed an interesting question, one that no one was quite prepared to answer. Gabriel stepped into the dusty center of the country lane and began walking in the opposite direction of the town, the rest of the corterie quickly followed suit.

[i:883527a9f2]"Cult activity...resurrection...same as Akeley's Field."[/i:883527a9f2] he cradled his ashen forehead in his still shaking hands. [i:883527a9f2]"But what does it all mean??"[/i:883527a9f2]

[i:883527a9f2]"Who knows? I can't even get my head on straight at this point!"[/i:883527a9f2] even freshly undead, the strain was beginning to show on Isabella's attractive face. [i:883527a9f2]"What WERE those fucking things back there? Doesn't look like any cult I've ever seen! They were like fucking demonic zombies!"[/i:883527a9f2]

[i:883527a9f2]"Look."[/i:883527a9f2] Gabriel stopped and faced the group, their inquisitive eyes full of fear, and his must have undoubtedly reflected the same. [i:883527a9f2]"Keep moving ahead, get what we came for...namely Dennavaul. That's my vote."[/i:883527a9f2]

[i:883527a9f2]"What about Porter?"[/i:883527a9f2] the clone asked, his arms crossed almost defensively.

[i:883527a9f2]"And Ewan!?"[/i:883527a9f2] Isabella cried curtly, her fears renewed.

[i:883527a9f2]"We can't do anything for them now. We have to push on...once we have some answers maybe we can figure out a way to help them. As soon as we re-enter that town we'll be bloodbags again."[/i:883527a9f2]

[i:883527a9f2]"You don't know that!"[/i:883527a9f2] Isabella growled, her face contorting into a mask somewhere between anger and terror.

[i:883527a9f2]"There's some type of void in that town Isabella!"[/i:883527a9f2] Now it was Gabriel's turn to shout, the cracks in his armor now painfully apparent, [i:883527a9f2]"Something there sucks the strength right out of you. It was the same at Akeley's Field with Poe! We were lucky to even make it out there alive, and now within two weeks, the same thing has happened again! That makes two times I should've been ashed! Now I don't know about you, but I'm not going to go headlong into a suicide mission!"[/i:883527a9f2]

They stared at him in disbelief...or complete and total confusion....he couldn't tell. Regardless, there were no further objections. As they walked he felt the cold hollowness of guilt creep into him. He had no fear for Porter's fate, he knew he was alive. Whatever the Inconnu had done to the pair of them while they were under had left them inexplicibly linked. Even now, he could feel the Gangrel's rage, fury, and sorrow. His utter apathy for Ewan's safety or even Isabella's concern was born out of pure self preservation.

The serpetine little lane that wove so deftly through the trees and crossed picturesque stone bridges would have certainly been something out of a Picasso during the daytime, but by night it was sinister and concealing. The gnarled trees cast deep ravines of black that stretched across the paths width and disappeared into the tall grass of the opposite side. The farmlands that were undoubtedly rolling and gorgeous were masked in thick blackness and only appeared grotesque and foreboding.

It was an easy task for them to procure several small animals on which Morag, Isabella, and 182 fed hungrily. Gabriel had possessed the foresight to bring a small flask of vitae and contended himself to consume it idly, while the others hunted. In reality, he had only packed it because his blood preference prohibited him from drinking anything else. The remainder of his blood stock was without a doubt still sitting in the town's mainstreet, far from his grasp at this point.

As they walked, confidence growing step by step, they spoke of possible theories to the strange ordeals they had just survived. If the cult had existed in the town for over a century, what had caused it's complete devolution just recently? Why had no one else heard of this?

As they rounded the far end of a gloomy knoll an ancient building loomed in the distance. Fenced in by rotting gates, an opaque block of architecture from France's history stood silent and lifeless. The hollow chateau instantly sent chills down Gabriel's spine, harkening to mind memories of his part in the battle against the Anathema.

The old country manor was slightly Victorian in build and seemed almost out of place. Towered on the end of either wing with peaked rooves and chimney tops placed haphazardly between, the structure was nearly overgrown with thick foliage. The once alabaster shutters were dingy and sealed tightly shut. In front of the grandoise three-story structure, the grounds were in complete disarray, once carefully pruned trees and hedges now in complete control of the massive lawn.

[i:883527a9f2]"Lets see if Dennevaul's home."[/i:883527a9f2]