((Shit that was good! *looks around for someone who can reply to it well enough* Ah bugger, I'll try.... :shock:

((Hope this is ok, Gabe :)

He nodded with resignation as the Ventrue left. Gabriel had tried to mask it with his casual demeanour, but he felt a compassion in his display of concern that he imagined arose from his resemblance to Porter. Porter and Gabriel, although neither would admit it, were fond of each other. No, fondness didn’t quite explain it. They had a curious “Uncle-Nephew” relationship. Poe hoped, in time, that he and the Ventrue would have a similar connection.

He wanted to shrug his day-mare off as mere fancy. But there was something too unnerving about the woman he’d seen attack and devour him. A palpable recognition that went beyond a fleeting memory of the many whores Denneval had supplied him. No. This feeling went deeper. A racial memory perhaps?

What terrified him the most, wasn’t the feeling of becoming so much sustenance for the woman. But in the final moments of the dream, he wanted it! As she had lowered upon him a voice had soothed him, lulling him into her. It was, for a single horrifying, visceral moment, like coming home. Like being borne into a mother’s arms.

He shook the thought from his head as he got dressed. The hold-all Gabriel had supplied would bear most of his clothes. He had to travel light, so a casual suit and a practical pair of khaki combat fatigues. A shirt, and baggy sweater, hiking boots and a simple pair of black shoes. Into the hold-all he also slid Talion. The sheathed weapon taking up more than her fair share of space available. He strapped a Walther P99 to the inside of his suit jacket, patting away the obvious bulging as he shouldered the hold-all. He carried it out into the hallway where he assumed Tivauld would collect it and place it into the car. He noted the time, before retiring to his room.

-----------

Akeley’s Field.

The stillness of the streets seemed to be pregnant with a repellent awareness. Every street, every corner seemed to wait for something. The very town seemed to heave as the residents walked upon its back. The townsfolk would coalesce in strange numbers and for stranger purposes, whispering to each other in half words. The air was breath-like in its moistness. A cold miasma that the people seemed mired in, or bathing in.

They walked seemingly without cause or reason, their backs hunched over as if twisted by malignant tumours of the spine. Greggs took notes as he watched from the hotel window.

[i:dc70322c0e]“Akeley’s Field is cursed. I can not fathom the source of these deformities. But it can surely not be natural!”[/i:dc70322c0e] He snapped an elastic band around his notepad, straightened up and took a swig from the sour mash whisky at his side. The mutton chops of his beard made him look positively Victorian. He pulled on his overcoat to keep the clammy, penetrating air out and stepped out onto the street.

The town waited. It had visitors on their way....

((ROCK! :twisted:

[i:bc5893b279]"Miss Morrighan? The master requested that I inform you he will be waiting for you out front of the mansion, by the van. Would you please join him as quickly as you can?"[/i:bc5893b279] Morrig finished adjusting her ear receiver and then straightened her black camoflage leotard over the tell-tale wires that lead down to the microphone attached to the inner neckline. Alekz was a demanding but fair master, as such went, and what was really meant in that message was a clear warning to get a move on!

She chalked her nervous tremors up to the fact that Alekz had honed what Cyrilynn had started and this was her first solo mission under his command. She didn't want to fail him, her own peace of mind wouldn't concieve of it. Making a hurried exit she stopped in the doorway and glanced around, making sure that she'd forgotten nothing. Then she spotted the glass of mixed vitae and wine that Alekz had sent her early on in the morning, instead of his usual personal attention to her monthly dosage.

The concept of even one small sip, despite it's siren call, made her guts clench and, before she doubled up in agony again, she thrust it out of her mind. Turning away, she justified it with an excuse of rewarding herself for a completed task and maybe the time to discover what was causing the peculiar response to her fix. She sped up and raced down the hallway, anxious now, to get this over with. If she didn't get her rear out there, [b:bc5893b279]now[/b:bc5893b279], Alekz was going to kill her!! Literally.

**************************************

The ghoul flattened herself against the smooth wall and willed her breathing into calmness. This was the third time she'd had to take precious seconds to bring her unruly body back under her mental control. She didn't like it. It wasn't that difficult. The job, such as it was, was simple enough that even a normal human could have accomplished it. Get in unseen, ice the target and get out again. Without any undue alarm. Piece of cake. Or........it should have been.

Something was wrong and Morrighan could feel it in her gut. She had fine tremors rippling from the inside out and she had broken out in a light sweat. She'd found herself starting to pant and her insides were doing a slow roll. As Lady C. had taught her, and as Alekz had insisted she continue to practice, she delved deep inside herself to find the center of calm. But it eluded her and she had to settle for the breathing exercises, which eased her inner turmoil a bit. She inched forward and, raising the magnetic gun to her shoulder, she peered around the frame of the open door.

AH! Just as she'd somehow known, the prey occupied the room, alone, standing before the windows that overlooked an expanse of carefully coifed lawn and terrace. The distant city lights twinkled brightly in the cold of night's canopy. His groomed hair and engrossed countenance reflected in the surface of the pristine glass. Morrighan breathed a tiny gasp as she caught the visage of Gabriel O'Brien in that mirrored illusion. She froze in place as the eyes in that reflection registered her presence.

She shuddered in terror that he would know who she was, even as she drowned in his hot gaze. It was Alekz's stacato demand of, [i:bc5893b279]"Morrie! What is it?"[/i:bc5893b279], that jerked her out of the Ventrue's dominating hold, just as her intended target screamed, [i:bc5893b279]"Intruder alert!! Security!"[/i:bc5893b279] Then he leaped at her, hands outstretched, claws extending for her throat. Her meager Sagacity clicked in and she sidestepped in slow motion. Cloying fear choked any other bodily reactions and drenched her in an adrenaline surge as she snugged the stock of the gun more firmly to her shoulder. Tracking his arc by his timeline thread, she took dead aim and shot him right between the eyes.

The small recoil kicked her back into the wall and time sped up again. Just in time to see the smile of confidence on his lips fade into shocked disbelief as the pay-load bullet blossomed like a flower in the sun and deposited it's virulent acid into his brain. He went rigid with the horrified realization of his impending Death before suddenly reaching up to claw away at the entry site as he tumbled, unheeding to the floor. Streaming blood began to pool in the glazing eyes, but the hands never ceased their frenzied movements. The ghoul pumped a second silent shot to ensure that he'd never get it out before the entire brain was dissolved away. With the acid in the tissues, now, it would continue to eat away at anything and everything it came in contact with. She pumped a third one into the heart as added insurance.

The sound of running feet and shouted orders intruded on Morrighan's vigil over her target. "[b:bc5893b279][i:bc5893b279]DAMN![/i:bc5893b279][/b:bc5893b279]", her thoughts panicked as her gut twisted in a hard knot, nearly doubling her over [i:bc5893b279]"This wasn't supposed to happen!!"[/i:bc5893b279] A quick time check showed the room flooded with the Ventrue's own guards and the only place clear enough was [b:bc5893b279]not[/b:bc5893b279] the door she was supposed to leave by. It lead to a set of stairs that another Sagacity check cleared for the next 4 mins. She sped upward into another corridor that showed unused with a 9 min. window on the future. Checking as many rooms along the hallway as rapidly as she could, she found a room that gave her [i:bc5893b279]some[/i:bc5893b279] breathing space.

How could things have reached such a deadly impasse? Her hands hung limply between crouched knees as she shook her head back and forth. Alekz was definitely going to be pissed over her performance. Morrighan closed doe-soft irises with heavily kohled lids and leaned her head back against the wall. What was [b:bc5893b279]wrong[/b:bc5893b279] with her? [i:bc5893b279]"Morrie!, answer me! What's wrong!? What happened?"[/i:bc5893b279], Alekz's strident tone impinged on her thoughts. Gods! How she hated that name [b:bc5893b279]and[/b:bc5893b279] him! Unfortunately, she needed him.

She thumbed her mic, [i:bc5893b279]"Alekz, I need help. Get me out of here, [b:bc5893b279]NOW[/b:bc5893b279]."[/i:bc5893b279]

[b:bd5dcd946e]ooc:[/b:bd5dcd946e] Jesus, this thread had me drooling for more since the beginning! Awesome in every way :D

Maine favors one trait over all others in regards to her sons and daughters. Adaptability. She an unforgiving land, bereft of many of the natural resources her neighbors are blessed with. For centuries, her inhabitants have relied upon her access to the open seas to live. The fishing industry made her strong in her younger days. Colonials came to equate her name with it.

Stout sailors, in simple ships, braved the fury and raw might of the ocean to make their livings. On Maine's simple shores, the families of these men waited in suspended anticipation. They gathered out of necessity and comfort. Around them, small fishing villages formed. Businesses sprang and rose, all inter-connected to that one glorious trade.

Life was tolerable. It was hard, but New Englanders of the time were of able stock. On rare occasions, a fisherman or captain found frequent success. He may through time purchase another ship, then another. With the passage of time he becomes wealthy. Several great families arose throughout Maine, and eventually throughout New England. But for most, this life was unforgiving and seldom kind.

With time's continual march, advancements came. Trawlers, with their great nets capable of snaring schools of fish in a single set, replaced the sizeable schooner fleets of their own. Some cried out against the change. [i:bc2cecca16]What about the fishermen?[/i:bc2cecca16] But society by and large ingnored their pleas. A growing nation demanded ever larger amounts of food. The methods proved over-efficient. As early as the 1930's, research was showing a rapid depletion of the fish population off the coast of New England.

The result was a way of life that became harder and harder to sustain oneself with. Many left the coasts, trying to scratch out their livings elsewhere. The unfortunate stayed behind, clinging desperately to the only life they knew. The settlements that had once proved so prosperous became rotting husks of their former selves. Poverty strangled the smaller sea towns, and left a wake of violence and alcoholism.

Some towns died peacefully, others clung desperately to life, like the final death rattle of the mortally wounded. Still, there were others that survived...though inexplicably.

Akeley's Field is similiar to many of those small fishing towns in initial appearance. It is nearly two hours from New Haven and accessible through a dense but navigable series of backroads. A great harbor attracted it's initial settlers, who struck ground on the steep slope of the adjacent hillside. There is hardly a building in Akeley's Field which does not offer a view of the harbor's brackish waters, and the opposite is true as well, as nearly every structure that makes up the delapidated town is visible from the rickety docks that outline the harbor.

Many of the town's buildings have fallen into disrepair. Boarded windows and doors, overgrown weeds, shattered bits of glass long since covered in an ever-thickening layer of dirt, are not uncommon sights in Akeley's Field. The streets themselves are thin and winding, stretching out like a monstrous spider's web over the the hillside. Homes and shops, which never rise above two stories tall, remain upright as though by some unseen means. The wood is rotten, and the paint cracked like an eggshell. The proximity of the ocean is apparent as any metal object of component is covered in rust.

The town's inhabitants are hardly more aesthetically pleasing. They shuffle about, their eyes downcast. Their pasty skin sags, and seemingly everyone shares the same vacant, yet suspicious stare. Their spines twist as the roads themselves. They are quiet for the most part, only congregating at the general store and town hall from time to time. One of the most successful businesses throughout the town's history has been the liquor suppliers. Bars have been present since the town's creation and have outlasted even the fishing industry.

The waters of the harbor are an abhorrant black ink and are seldom visited by any. With so few ties to the outside world, there is little reason for what few commercial fishermen that remain to visit the port. Those who have seldom return to it. The only relic of the town's past status as a seaport is an ancient, rotting lighthouse that sits at the end of a peninsula of rocks. The peninsula itself juts out from the far edge of the bay. The lighthouse acts as a mascot for the town itself, as it is dingy and broken. It's framework is visible in places, like the ribs of a great whale. It's slightly crooked in the center and it's light never shines.

The only other worthwhile mention of Akeley's Field is it's particularly dense foliage. The forest that surrounds the town on all sides (save for the harbor entrance) encroaches year by year. Already, one might observe several houses that lie behind the treeline, their thatched rooves speared by the branches and trunks of trees.

These were the sights that met the two figures that ascended to the top of the hill one cold autumn night in November.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[i:bc2cecca16]"Do you have any reception yet?"[/i:bc2cecca16] Poe knew the answer, staring at the empty space on his phone's LCD screen where the bars usually sat.

[i:bc2cecca16]"Still nothing."[/i:bc2cecca16] Gabriel replied from ahead of him. The Ventrue's usually calm demeanor had cracked and faded. His annoyance with the rental car's unexpected demise was written plainly on his pale features. Unable to use their cell phones and seeing no signs of civilized life, the two Kindred had gathered their belongings and set off in the direction of Akeley's Field.

The town lay before them now, with the harbor black waters open like a gaping maw. Even the moon seemed to have difficulty reflecting in it's swampish waters.

Gabriel looked to Poe.

[i:bc2cecca16]"It doesn't matter. We're here now. We'll check in with my foreman and perhaps he can provide us with transportation back to New Haven."[/i:bc2cecca16]

((Jesus!

[i:02ce09f8e3]“Alekz! I need help! Get me out of here, now!”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

He had seen this coming. That didn’t detract from his annoyance. He had hoped Morrie’s Sagacity, however limited it was, would have given her foresight enough to see her mistakes before she made them. But clearly something was clouding her judgement.

He answered her briefly and coldly. [i:02ce09f8e3]“I’m coming.”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

Launching himself up and over the gap between his vantage point and the roof of the target building, he rolled upon landing. Looking back to check he had not been spotted by the doormen. He reached for the lifestrand that would lead him to Morrie, focusing on it and any nearby, and slipped in through a maintenance access. His booted feet making almost no sound as he started the climb down to the floor she was cowering on.

Two guards had moved ahead of her assumed position, hoping to cut her escape. The first, a heavyset blackman fell sharply as Alekz brought his foot up and around the corner they guarded, crushing his windpipe with one calamitous blow. The other moved to shout before Alekz broke his nose with a hard punch to his face, tears swelling in his eyes as pain flooded his senses. He moaned before the Maven’s gun discharged, shattering his skull as keenly as it had his attempts at defence.

The gunshot had been silenced. No point in giving them a chance, was there?

Alekz leapt the last few steps, rolling as another guard ran to intercept him. The Maven watched the guard move as if in slow motion, apparent amusement on his face as the guard brought his own weapon to bear.

[i:02ce09f8e3]“Tut, tut. You don’t know who you’re dealing with....”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

The guard’s face dropped as the intruder’s hand blurred, his face shrieked as he felt the dagger imbed into his crotch. Before his voice could scream, Alekz was upon him twisting his neck.

[i:02ce09f8e3]“Shhh.”

“Morrie? Can you hear me? I’m two floors above you. They have you surrounded. Just stay quiet. Understood?”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

He felt her reply rather than heard it. A defeated nod.

He removed the silencer, firing a shot to draw them to him. Taking position at the top of the stairwell, just out of sight.

Raised voices came to meet him there. Then, one by one, the guards came too.

His hands found purchase onto the walls where there was none. Twisting round he rose like some incorporeal thing. Blows raining down on the onrushing guards. Guns were drawn, punched free, discharged into their owner’s stomachs. It was a massacre. Alekz’ face contorted into a malicious mask. A humanised emulation of the face his Grendel uniform wore. He growled employing his Sagacity to its fullest before ripping the eyes from the last guard, drawing his dagger across his throat.

[i:02ce09f8e3]“Morrie? Get out! Meet me by the car! I’ll clear up this mess! GO!”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

She feigned bravery as she hurtled out of the building. Tripping herself as she reached the car, the AMR swinging on her back as she slid into the rear of the Audi.

Alekz entered the office his target had worked from.

The Enemy were growing powerful. They had agents everywhere. He examined the office, finding nothing to implicate the Enemy and the Ventrue Barrister, Merriweather. But he knew there was a connection. He had [i:02ce09f8e3]seen[/i:02ce09f8e3] it. Grumbling he planted the charge under the dusted Ventrue’s desk. Leaving casually by the front door he erased the memories of the two doormen before ordering them to go home.

The Audi S8 roared away from the city. It’s powerful engine threw dust plumes up behind it as it drew nearer his home, and farther from the ensuing detonation. Pulling into the driveway of the Eyrie, he glanced at Morrie in his rearview mirror. His eyes narrowed as they entered his house.

She couldn’t see it coming. As she crossed the threshold into the lounge he backhanded her, sending her flying. Immediately, apparently sorrowful for his assault he helped her to her feet before pouring himself a drink.

[i:02ce09f8e3]“Okay, Morrie. You have my attention. What the [b:02ce09f8e3]hell[/b:02ce09f8e3] happened? What were you thinking!? If anything?”[/i:02ce09f8e3]

Morag wiped blood from a split lip and balled her fists as she shook with growing rage, watching Alekz knock back a hefty swallow of his drink. “[i:f2af7f3aae]Okay, Morrie. You have my attention. What the hell happened? What were you thinking!? If anything?[/i:f2af7f3aae]” The scathing remark bit deeply and if her answering glare could kill, there would have been a pile of ash on the floor at her feet. Inexplicably, as swiftly as the anger had come, it drained away into a nervous edginess that had the ghoul beginning to pace the confines of the room and it's carpet.

"[i:f2af7f3aae]Why didn't you tell me it was Gabriel O'Brien, Alekz![/i:f2af7f3aae]", she all but shouted the question at him, "[i:f2af7f3aae]Did you think I wouldn't have recognized him? Well, I did!![/i:f2af7f3aae] Uncharacteristically, Morag stopped in front of Alekz and crowded his space, heedlessly aiming a slap at his unsuspecting countenace, that ever stoic facade rapidly chipping away at her fifty-plus years of meticulous control. Without seeming effort, the Maven's hand captured her wrist in a crushing grip, just inches from his palid cheek.

Her sense of betrayal churned like a flaming high-ball in her stomach and it reached near-frenzy proportions as he merely stared at her. Alekz allowed the silence to stretch until her taut body began to lose some of it's tension before he spoke in chill tones, "[i:f2af7f3aae]That wasn't who you aced, Morrie. I saw the body and it wasn't the Ventrue you think it was. What's your problem?[/i:f2af7f3aae]"

Her jaw dropped at what, to her, was a blatant lie and she panted like an oxygen starved fish. "[i:f2af7f3aae][b:f2af7f3aae]I SAW HIS FACE[/b:f2af7f3aae], Alekz! I [b:f2af7f3aae]know[/b:f2af7f3aae] who I killed and it [b:f2af7f3aae]was[/b:f2af7f3aae] him!![/i:f2af7f3aae]", she nearly screamed it. But the seed of doubt had been planted and she paused, long enough for sanity to catch up, then pleaded, "[i:f2af7f3aae]Wasn't it?[/i:f2af7f3aae]" The look in his eyes told her that she could tell herself falsehoods until the cows came home, and believe what she wanted to believe, but it wasn't going to change facts. And, that she'd just accused him of outright lying to her.

Her intestines twisted and nausea threatened; tremors began as the enormity of her misconception hit home. Alekz released her hand and stepped away, coldly distancing himself from her, studying her as if she was an insect he contemplated stepping on. Morrighan stumbled backwards, all but falling into a nearby chair, as bile rose in tbe back of her throat. Wrapping hands around her abdomen, she began to rock, hoping to ease the burning that seemed to be spreading through her veins with each pump of her now frantically beating heart..

"[i:f2af7f3aae]I'm sorry, Master.[/i:f2af7f3aae]", she turned her face away, hunching her shoulders, hoping her submissive posture would stave off any retaliation. Fought desperately to keep a red haze, that hinted so seductively of a sanctuary for her overwrought nerves, from overwhelming her mind, "[i:f2af7f3aae]I don't understand what's happening. I....I.....[/i:f2af7f3aae]" The words died away on spasms that left her virtually speechless and shaking violently.....

The portion of town furthest from the harbor was virtually silent. Each step through the night's rolling fog brought the expectation, and eventually the hope, that a figure or voice would emerge. Repeatedly, their hopes met only with disappointment.

The tiny shops, with their chipped and decaying exteriors, were closed tightly. Board up and shuttered. Even at this early hour of the evening, the lights were strangely absent on the corridor-like streets. The tiny, bubbled window panes, fashioned in the old style often found in quant towns familiar in New England, were smeared and grimy. It was Poe who initially made not of thick layers of encrustation, nearly identical on the windows of each structure.

[i:d066babef2]"Probably salt build up, being so close the ocean."[/i:d066babef2] Gabriel had ventured. The two walked along silently, neither one putting too much stock in the hypothesis. They also became increasingly aware of how poorly lit the town was at night.

The sparsley placed street lamps, which Gabriel correctly identified as gas lamps, stood unlit and devoid of their signature hiss. Coupled with the darkened houses, it gave one very much the impression of a cemetary. Dark, impenetrable shadows made homes in the slight crevices between strucutres.

The architecture was exaggerated by the gloom, and appeared a hundred times more sinister. Of particular interest to Gabriel were the long, twisted coils of root that emerged from the cracks of building, often embedding themselves into the cobbled streets. Like the fingers of some motionless giant, they protruded violently, smashing through the buildings wooden and brick exteriors. Some were as thick as the Ventrue's waist in girth and the visible portions of were easily the length of a man before burrowing into the earth once more.

As neither the two proceeded silently, another oddity occurred to them. There was an obvious lack of street signs in Akeley's Field, making the foreman's address of little help. So, the pair walked towards the harbor, in the hope of finding an establishment still operating.

The night was thick and strangling, and the two found comfort in their ability not to breathe it. As dense as it was, it carried easily the familiar sounds of sobbing. The Kindred exchanged a brief glance, and then began to walk towards the source. They turned a corner onto a side street and were confronted with a group of several dozen, all dressed in black and congregrating around what appeared to be an altar.

The street was more alley, as it was wedged in between two of the town's largest buildings. It's inhabitants were crammed between the two structures like wailing, sobbing sardines. What little light the street did possess was intense. It eminated from two great bonfires on either side of the great stone altar. Atop the altar, surrounded in various bouqets and gifts, sat a rather flambouyant painting of a figure, perched on a easel.

The figure was dressed in a dashing military uniform, an early costume of the British Royal Navy's naval attire in the first half of the 19th century. His face was long and rounded, almost childlike. A pair of stern, serious eyes glared out and was framed by shock of startling black hair.

Gabriel tentatively approached one of the nearest mourners.

[i:d066babef2]"Vanderbilt, Vanderbilt...what will we do now?"[/i:d066babef2] she wailed piteously, flailing her arms wildly enough to make the Ventrue take a step backwards. When she had regained her composure to some degree, Gabriel approached.

[i:d066babef2]"Excuse me madaam, pardon the intrus..."[/i:d066babef2]

The woman spun on her heels and glared at Gabriel. He nearly gasped at her appearance. It was clear that it had not been emotional abuse alone that ailed her. Great sunken eyes peered out from behind a drooping brow. Her lips, caked with foam, drew back over gnarled teeth set in an impossibly large mouth. Her skin sagged and drooped unnaturally.

[i:d066babef2]"Who are you?! Why are you here?!"[/i:d066babef2] she shrieked. Her cries brought the attention of others, as more and more began to shout accusations at the pair.

Gabriel and Poe recoiled. The entire mass of attendees were of similar nature to that of the old woman. Mangled and hunched, they were mutant-looking figures. Disfigured, but not quite alien enough to not play the part of passable humans. The two Kindred disappeared around the corner to collect their thoughts and discuss their course of action in light of the situation...

((woo! Akeley's Field is the place Where The Streets Have No Name!!!

((Excellent return Gabey old boy!

And Kahn...fuck off with the u2 references!

((hey!! it was a valid reference!!

plus...i like pissing ye off....but please, keep writing, whatever is posted I Will Follow..yeah, even Until The End of The World! I wonder in what Mysterious Ways will Poe and Gabe react??

ahh, im intrigued, this is so exciting, its like New Year's Day...oh, what a Beautiful Day! its threads like these that feel me with Pride and make me wish i was Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of...you know, kinda like Running to Stand Still

ok, im done

Poe couldn’t sleep.

He had seen the effects of restrictive gene pooling before so he knew the appearances of the Funerary procession hadn’t fazed him. But something deeper, more subtle gnawed at him, chasing any hope of slumber from his mind.

There had been something in the way the mourners moved, something repellent even to a Kindred, in the way they spoke. A wet, guttural sound that made him think of frogs, or lizards. The loathsome, swollenness of their eyes, the way they had stared at Gabriel and himself. Then there was the stench. The town, on first impressions, had seemed relatively normal. But his keen olfactory senses had penetrated that outward layer. That same wrongness had driven both Kindred, be-stripped of their confidence, to seek sanctuary in the guest house they had arranged. Gabriel’s foreman, were he still in one piece, Poe taxed, could wait.


He tossed and turned in his bed, the once cherished now shunned, sunlight held at bay by thick wooden shutters. Wood a little too thick. Standing he balled his feet on the rug that hid the damp, bleakness of the hardwood floor. He closed his eyes, seeing the painting again. But this time in place of the war hero, he saw an enormous cyclopean toad, fat, warted and trembling.

Somewhere in his head he heard a name he didn’t recognise. Or care to remember. A name that filled him with an unexplained fear......

[i:9a7a25e2e2]“En.....”[/i:9a7a25e2e2]

He started suddenly. Awake and panting. Pulling on his shirt he heard something from Gabriel’s room.

A dark, inhuman, lustful hiss.

Siezing Talion in his hand as he threw open his door and ran to Gabriel’s he heard a shrieking that he remembered from his day-mare under Gabriel’s hospitality. It bolstered him. He threw open the door to see some THING stagger over Gabriel’s slumbering corpse.

It stood upright, it’s skin was shark-like and rough. It’s hands tapered with talons. But it was it’s face that drew further panic from him.

It had none.

Nothing. A flat, ovoid thing that seemed, yet, to shudder and quake with intent.

He swung Talion at the thing’s head, cutting through suddenly empty air and imbedding into the bedside cabinet by Gabe’s head.

Gabriel’s eyes flashed open...........

Poe's bewildered face came into focus as Gabriel's eyes adjusted in the dim light provided by the ajar hallway door. If nothing else, the startled Ventrue could take comfort in knowing that his training had paid off. The impact had awoken his body and the instantly purged any thought or decision-making process in leu of defensive action.

He was still sitting in bed, his torso now exposed. The blade that Poe had unknowingly wedged into the headside cabinet was grasped firmly in one of Gabriel's hands, held steady by fortitude and blood strength. The rogue weapon secured, his other hand had wrenched the personalized .38 Special from it's resting spot beneath Gabriel's pillow and had whipped it around to face the intruder.

For several seconds, the two remained motionless, Gabriel looking startled, and Poe even more so. At last, Poe released the hilt of his weapon, and Gabriel lowered his revolver. His clothes were wrinkled and showed signs of being slept in, as did his wildly untamed hair. He cast wide, paranoid glances across the empty room.

[i:46d3c61f42]"Gabriel..."[/i:46d3c61f42] he whispered, still scanning the room with his nearly feral eyes, [i:46d3c61f42]"...there's something in here with you, something unnatural."[/i:46d3c61f42]

His aura revealed he had meant no harm to the slumbering Ventrue. Gabriel swung his feet over the side of the bed and threw a shirt over his naked torso.

[i:46d3c61f42]"Poe,"[/i:46d3c61f42] he said as he pulled his loose hair into a ponytail, [i:46d3c61f42]"you and I are the only things unnatural in this room."[/i:46d3c61f42]

[i:46d3c61f42]"No...no I saw..."[/i:46d3c61f42] the hunched Gangrel nearly leapt from his skin as his sentance was interupted by the room's lights being switched on, chasing the shadow's and his imaginary fiend away.

The room sat empty, save for Gabriel's luggage in the opened closet. There were no large pieces of furniture to hide behind or alternate doors or windows to make a frantic escape. Maybe the apparition had truly been in his mind? But it had been so vivid...

He flinched once more as Gabriel's hand fell on his shoulder, more to guide him out of the room than to comfort.

[i:46d3c61f42]"Look, there's obviously something strange about this town, but lets not go losing our heads."[/i:46d3c61f42] he looked at the cabinet, where the sword still protruded, just inches from the groove upon his pillow, "[i:46d3c61f42]literally or otherwise."[/i:46d3c61f42]

He wrenched the weapon free and handed back to Poe, who stood in the doorway blinking his apparently deceitful eyes. The Gangrel took stock of the room once more and then sighed, shaking his head.

[i:46d3c61f42]"I...I'm sorry Gabriel. It must've been a day-mare."[/i:46d3c61f42]

The Ventrue offered a reassuring smile and nodded.

[i:46d3c61f42]"I'm sure. We'll resume our search at dusk, and then leave this God forsaken town."[/i:46d3c61f42]

Poe nodded and shuffled down the hall, feeling betrayed by his own senses.

[i:46d3c61f42]"Of all the Gangrel's, I get stuck with the rabid one."[/i:46d3c61f42] Gabriel murmured to himself as he settled back into bed.