I gasped and began taking deep, rapid breaths, but felt nothing. I did not feel the air surging through my nose, filling my lungs. I did not feel the mere presence of my limbs, of my body. Nothing. As if my soul itself had been ripped apart of my body and imprisoned in the most merciless of voids. Nothing.
But still, thoughts burbled up, an unexpected yet very welcome guest, conciousness. I tried to open my eyes but again realized, I had no eyes, I had no physical self, no body to call my own. No lungs or nose to breathe with.

[i:b75cd4d38a]Where am I?[/i:b75cd4d38a]

What was that? Words? Yes...words. I had forgotten those. I searched for their source and gasped, or at least gasped as much as you can with no mouth or windpipe or lungs or nothing. The [i:b75cd4d38a]words[/i:b75cd4d38a] came from me, I had thought them, questioning. Again I realized I was thinking..I would've laughed maniacally, I was THINKING.
Memories began surging through my...brain? No, I had no head to contain a brain.
Memories...a life, an embrace, an unlife...hundreds of years of lonely existance, a ritual...cappadocians...the sword. The sword. I had named it...what had it been...Oh, right, Lupus Mortis. Death by wolf. Latin seemed like the best language for a name back then, it added a certain power to it, after all it was the language the most powerful civilization of my time, the Romans, used. I had wielded the sword. I had killed with the sword. The sword had become an extension of me, like my very claws! Where was the sword? What had happened to it?
I paused.
The last memories flooded back to my vapor-like conciousness. It had been taken, yes, taken, from my very grasp. That blasted pup had cut it off hand and all!! Surprising me, tricking me!! What had happened next...??
I paused once again, the next memory that flooded back seemed hazy, implausible, painful.
Lupus Mortis driven against me...it's deadly keen edge cutting through the arm I had bewildiringly raised up for protection, but not stopping there, oh no. Lupus Mortis could do that, surprise foes, cutting through the toughest metal shields the fools had thought could protect them. Hah!
Yes...I remember the pain...Lupus Mortis cut through my arm and kept going and then cut...what? Yes, my throat...my neck.
What was happening? Why was I thinking, wasn't I

[i:b75cd4d38a]Dead?[/i:b75cd4d38a]

So was this is it, final death? Where are the hellish fires, the agonizing screams, the demons with their spiky tridents, the pain? This is what comes after life and yes, unlife? Hazy, fog-like void?

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden surge, like if ten lighting bolts had hit me and the electricity traveled through my body, even though I had no body. I cried out in pain, surprise and...satisfaction. When it was all over I noticed something different about The Void. It wasn't white, but red. And I wasn't alone...there were many with me, but my nostrils did not catch their scent or their bodies did not emit them. Or maybe I had no nostrils.
I caught their billowy foggy bodies, forming vague outlines and shapes. Many humanoids floating around in fetal position, several garou tumbling with no pattern, and creatures I had never seen or heard of. But this did not surprise me, whatsurprised me the most was that after the power surge I could now see. See the red void and the white ghosts floating in it, and I could also move. It took me some time to get used to the idea that I was nothing but a greenish puff of vapor, contrasting with the whitish outlines of my...companions. I began to roam around, eager to find out what was my fate and maybe escape it and get my sweet revenge. This place must have limits of some kind, nothing has or ever will be with no limits, infinite, to name the bewildering concept, right?
My hazy form began floating forwards. Why? Well, because I wanted it to!
As simple as that! The power surge had given me strength and willpower grand enough to accomplish that.

As I creeped forward my "mind" was invaded by a powerful image, a blade swinging forward, connecting, killing....draining of energy, of soul, the energy being absorbed..pushed back, captured...and then absorbed again by something that had not been planned. A greenish humanoid outline, feral....me!?

excellent! :D

(Nice very nice now I understand some of he stuff about the damn thing. Post more please))

((BRAVO!!! This is awesome, I mean wow!! Who's writing this? Seriously, I need an autograph!! Do you have a manager?))

The edge sliced through the Brujah's neck like piss does through snow. The sword swung in a hellish arc. The air in it's wake drained, filled with an absence of life. It was truly unstoppable! Well, with one exception.
Graventhorp smiled and retracted his weapon, making it sing as he gave it a quick rotation before sheathing it smoothly. Lupus Mortis didn't feel like a sword in his hand anymore, it was deeper than that, as if the sword itself was how his arm ended....

[i:baef387a15] like my very claws![/i:baef387a15]

He gave his head a quick shake, where had that come from? He shrugged it off and walked away, the pesky Brujah's ashes, picked up by sudden gust of wind, seemed to wave good-bye at the City Gangrel's retreating figure.

Graventhorp emerged from the narrow alley that separated two buildings in Cascadia downtown. He had disposed of the bounty hunter that had been sent for him, easily. Thorp had evaded a few of those this past few months, his trips to LA and New York had shuffled some dirt, so to speak.

He gave a quick sniff, his nostrils invaded by the acrid/sweet scents of the city. One mangy, clawed hand scratched his left eye socket, those suckers had been acting up the last days, itching like hell. His acute ears told him it was safe to cross the street and he did so, casually walking at a steady pace. He had no eyes but he still knew how every nook and crannie of this city looked like, down to the last sewer entrance. He even had fair knowledge of the sewers themself, he used them for shortcuts on a fairly regular basis, but those were Nossie territories, and he did not want to stir THAT bee hive.

He chuckled slightly as he arrived to the other side's curb, remembering the buried trailer he had shared with Bats and Gabe for a while. He wondered if Drain was still around.

"Yo, ugly, gimme a quarter, why don't ya?"

Thorp abruptly stopped and slowly turned toward the voice. A drunken bum, sitting, his back to a building, or at least that's what his ears could catch.

"Whatdidya say?"

The bum's alcohlic stupor wasn't deep enough for him not to notice the feral, scrapy voice.

"H-hey, man...chill, I was just...y'know..begging and shit...don't need to get all worked up about it..we cool?"
"No, were NOT cool..."

Thorp made sure to drag out the raspiness in the sentence, it seemed to have an effect on the bastard. He checked his surroundings, or, better put, his ears and nose did. The nearest souls were inside the building, deeply asleep. The nearest one outside was a prostitute about two streets down.
He reached down and lifted the bum by the collar, ignoring the frightened squeaks and the sudden rush of urine stench that rose to his nose.

"Hey, a beast's gotta do what a beast's gotta do..."

The bum was too frightened to scream as two sharp fangs punctured his yugular.

The first thing Graventhorp noticed about Cascadia was that it was filled with kindred he had never met, and those he remembered did not seem to be around.
That removed, the city was exactly like it used to be...the city closest in Thorp's mind to home, not that he would admit that to anyone.

He walked out of the neighborhood the Ventrue seemed to despise the most, sure its inhabitants lived outside the law, it had no garbage pick-up service, drugs were everywhere; to name a few of its characterisitics, but Thorp didn't see what was wrong with it.
He emerged from a manhole in Cascadia's buisness district, unnoticed, and began his way towards Gabriel's building. He would be either there, or Eylsium...

[i:327f8daa38]I can’t say I enjoyed the company of wolves. I guess few would. But with fees as high as they were paying I could learn to live with it.

Carne was every bit the corporate predator. You might expect he was City Gangrel, but he was pure breed. A wolf in a three-piece suit is still a wolf.

“So do we have a deal Mr. True?” Carne’s face was cool, impassive. The feral frame of hair around his face and chin didn’t make him any more appealing.

“Yes we do. Who do I contact when I have news?” I slid my hands into my pockets, the mild reassurance my hidden pistol gave made me less nervy.

“Ahh that’d be Ms. Vierge. I hope you don’t mind but she’ll be keeping an eye on you. For your protection of course.” His smile was just as dark as the glint in his eyes as he blew smoke rings.

“Of course. I’ll be seeing you Mr. Carne.”

I returned the smile, placing the glass of scotch on his mantle before I pulled open the door. Carne’s penthouse was ludicrously vast. Tiled floor, glass walls and fittings, silk furnishings. For a pureblood Gangrel, he felt more like a prissy Ventrue accountant. He nodded, the door steward outside the room returning the gesture as I left.

The elevator took me to ground level, as I stepped out a car pulled up outside. The lobby was painfully quiet. Straining my senses I was sure I heard Wraith-speak. Nah, Carne must’ve spooked me more than I thought. I thanked the doorman as I stepped outside, the car doors opened and she stepped out. All legs, red satin and angry pout. She smiled at me, it should have calmed me but her smile felt crooked. It looked great though.

“Mr. True I presume? Allow me to introduce myself, I am Ms. Vierge. But if you prefer you can call me Brelith.” She ushered me into the rear of the car, climbing in beside me before the car rolled off.

“You can call me Mr. True.” I grinned. I felt the grumble as she took offence.

“Very well, Sam.” Hmmm cock-sure. I like that. “I trust Mr. Carne told you of our arrangement?”

“Yes he was very specific. Even told me your cup size. I think he [b:327f8daa38]exaggerated[/b:327f8daa38].”

She smiled once. I barely saw her fist connect. Then I woke up in my hotel room.[/i:327f8daa38]

[i:63aad9c4f5]I found a fang lying on my pillow when I opened my eyes.

It was after 9. Damn she’d hit me hard.

I felt around my mouth with my tongue sighing with relief as I felt the fang had regrown in my sleep. I pocketed the lost tooth and stripped off.

I showered fast before grabbing a turtleneck sweater, my black pants and my overcoat. Towelling my hair dry as I loaded my .38.

9:45.

A siren echoed along the streets outside. The sirens sang their songs of fear and discord along the forgotten, cigarette-lit streets that ran through the slum areas of the city. Fire-fighters racing to douse murderous flames, police pursuing criminals. And paramedics praying with offerings of adrenaline, calcium chloride and morphine. Bowing down to a defibrillated god. I listened for a while, clucking my tongue as I fastened my holster around my ribs.

Shrugging the sudden wave of nauseating depression off, I headed for the elevator. Carne wanted me to find some Gangrel called Graventhorp. Figured sitting around my hotel room was [b:63aad9c4f5]not[/b:63aad9c4f5] going to get the job done.

The night air stank. Not in the smog-tainted way that Chicago or LA did. It had a certain pungency about it, like the streets were laid over rotten fruit. I wrinkled my nose, pulling my scarf around my face as a chill wind blew away the stench. Hailing a cab I decided to take a sojourn into the depths of the city.[/i:63aad9c4f5]

((thanks for Lupus Mortis' member rank bats....lol
That's another example of power going straight to your head....))

The cool January wind made Thorp's tattered coat flap at his back like a superhero's low-budget cape. Gabriel had not been at his office or Eylsium, that left either his haven or some buisness trip out of town. Graventhorp decided to stop looking for him, he had other buisnesses to attend, like getting a haven. He planned on staying in Cascadia for as long as possible.

He used the sewers and cut through warehouses to get to downtown faster. When he emerged from underground, inside an alley, he went over the mental map of Cascadia he had made years ago. Seemed like the closest spot from where he was was Benny's.

The City Gangrel entered through the main door, onto "La Trattoria", a cheap italian restaurant, his greeting the sweet smell of bad Italian food and rat dumpings.

"Party of one?"
Thorp turned towards the voice, a female heroin addict seemed to play the part of Hostess.
"No, I'm lookin' for Benny."
"Who?"
"The bastard that owns this dump?"
"Ya mean Shark?"
[i:9f7bb0b0e3]Shark?[/i:9f7bb0b0e3] Is that what Benny called himself? Jesus.
"Aye, where is he?"
"Who's lookin' for 'im?"
Thorp brought his face close to the hostess', concealing his fangs but still looking angry.
"Tell 'im an ol' friend is here to greet 'im...."
"Uh---yeah..."
Thorp heard the hostess of the small restaurant walk away and enter the kitchen, his ears capturing a low "Get a breath mint, motherfucker." as she entered the door on the far back.
Minutes later she returned and nodded at the almost 7 foot tall City Gangrel. It wasn't hard for Thorp's ears, which had gotten 100 times more acute since he lost his eyes, to catch the vibration of the air emitted from the girl's nod...the place was nearly empty.
He made his way through the restaurant, entering the metal door on the back that, invisible to Thorp, said "Cocina", "Kitchen" in Spanish...not Italian.
He crossed the filthy antique kitchen, noting that the "cheff" and the female assistant were taking advantage of the place's emptiness to....get initimate....in the small warehouse. He went up a flight of stairs and kicked the door at the end of it clear out of its hinges, sending it flying across the next room.

"HEY, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU CUNTRAG!?"
Thorp captured the voice's owner's movement as he raised an automatic, completely empty by the smell of it.
"Too cheap to buy rounds, Benny?"
"How did ya...G-Graventhorp!" Benny put the gun down on the termite-eaten table he used as a desk and hesitated before moving towards the City Gangrel.
"G-glad to see ya, how long has it been?"
Graventhorp's trademark sunglasses prevented the old acquaintance to notice Thorp's lack of eyes.
"Too shorta time if ye ask me..."
Benny stretched his face in a nervous grin.
"What can I do for ya...bud?"
"I need yer services, Benny..."
"Ahh...I-i'ts "Shark" now..Thorp..." Benny's eyes twitched nervously, darting from Graventhorp, to the broken door on the far wall, and to the empty gun continously. An invisble gesture for Thorp, but he did not need it to notice his nervousness, his heart was pounding like crazy.
"Yah, right."
"S-so, I guess yer not here to place a bet--right?"
"No, Benny, I'm not 'ere to use yer lameass bookie buisness, I need a place..."
"Oh...umm, well, I can, "Benny cleared his throat nervously "certainly do that..b-but it's gonna cost ya, man." He regretted the words as soon as he uttered them.
Thorp smiled and walked to the human, grabbing him by the collar (ignoring the shrill squeak), and raising him to his eye level....or sunglass level in Thorp's case.
"Listen motherfucker, as pay I'm gonna give ye the satisfaction of not givin' ye the same fate as yer ol' sire," Graventhorp didn't really drop, but threw, Benny at the floor. "Capisce?"
Benny laid sprawled on the floor, his arm broken.
"Yes! Yes! Whatever you want!! I'll make the arrangements, I'll get ya a nice place, I'll contact you! Whatever you want, but please go away!" Benny grabbed his right arm painfully, gritting his teeth, Thorp was the only one who could really scare him that way, that he knew of.
Graventhorp gave a slight, sarcastic bow and turned, leaving the place.
"Oh, and by the way, your cheff's gettin' blowed in the warehouse." He threw over his shoulder.

Thorp was glad when the cool city air enveloped him as he left the building through a back door. He stood on the alley at the restaurant's back for a while, thinking. After a few seconds he nodded and with one quick movement unsheathed Lupus Mortis, gave it a quick rotation, making it sing through the air, and brought its tip to his forehead, gently.
His brow furrowed, deep in concentration, and two seconds later the blade began to glow red, followed by a blinding flash.
Where Graventhorp once stood now a dirty human did. He removed his tattered coat and stuffed it behind a dumpster in the alley. No sheathe of any kind could be seen on the human's torso. The ragged, beer and blood-stained red shirt fit the human loosely, even though the same shirt was a tight fit over Graventhorp's chest.
"Now let's see if any bounty hunter can follow me track now." A non-feral, normal human voice uttered with a grin. The human seemed to be in his early twenties, and under the sewer muck that stuck to his finely trimmed lock-shaped beard, which covered his mustache and chin only (The kindred version of Thorp had a mangly, dirty, full face beard) he actually looked handsome.
The 6 foot man removed his sunglasses, revealing glinting blue eyes, tossed them behind the same dumpster as the coat, and walked away.

Trapped!! Trapped like a pet!!

It had been an eternity since the electrical jolt, it made my entire unlife seem like only a second in comparison to the time I spent vaguing, roaming through the endless red void. I had explored every inch of it...it had no ends, but no limits either. It had been confusing at first but after a while of floating around I had realized that if you kept going at the same direction for some time you came back from behind the original start point. Like if i had been going around in circles!!

The hazy clouds that formed vague outlines, my "companions", were dead. They were wraiths of some kind, for I could walk straight through them, but it didn't alter them at all, they just kept floating, sometimes rotating....dead.

This really was hell. Hades, Satan the Christian demon, call it what you want...he didn't exist. The hellish fires...myth. THe agonizing screams and millions of lost souls....wife's tales. Hell was much, much worse. It was an endless vo-

My thoughts were halted by a sudden feeling of bloating. Suddenly everything began glowing a bright red, the hazy clouds that made my companions seemed to expand...and then...

FLASH

I was seeing through actual eyes!! I had a body!! Hands, feet mouth!! I tried to move my limbs...but i had no response. Suddenly I felt...FELT, with skin!!...how my body removed a jacket of somekind and stuffed it behind a metal container..a big one. Then I felt my mouth move and my lungs...LUNGS!... release air, the result being talking.

[i:e8625151b6]"Now let's see if any bounty hunter can follow me track now."[/i:e8625151b6]

English. But what was this...it's as if my body was controlled by someone else! I could do nothing but see and feel what..somebody else's body?...saw and felt. And heard. And smelled.

I felt..my, his...hand remove some kind of glass over...my, his...eyes, and the world became clearer. OH, the bliss of sight!!
My, his...feet began moving, and so did the rest of the body...sweet relief!

[i:880f43efed]As I walked along the rain, damp streets I swept my senses along each block. Feeling the dips and alcoves as my eyes adjusted to penetrate the darkness of each. Vierge had left me a note, as well as a dull headache. I grunted as I unravelled the piece of paper.

“La Trattoria. Benny the Shark.”

I muttered..shark huh? Wonder if he has teeth.

Pocketing the note, I took a left on 53rd and within a few blocks the dingy, grease-painted sign came into view. Even from across the street I could tell the place was crawling with ‘roaches. I stood watching the front of the restaurant, and the service doors in the alley beside it. My coat and scarf making me invisible, well at least hard to spot with Kine senses.

As I watched, a tall unkempt figure emerged from the alley. He looked just about diseased enough to be a Bone Gnawer I smirked. But he wasn’t the man I was looking for. Another hour passed and finally my quarry emerged.

Benny stood just over 5’. He was frankly grotesque. His hair almost completely gone leaving strings of greasy blackness running over his ears. His face was squashed, like he’d boxed in his past but had always lost. And he had a beer gut that would have made even the most basic of human functions look obscene. I watched as he crossed the street, bringing him nearer to my spot, then as he passed me I spoke up.

“Hi there Benny.”

“What the Fu..?” He spun angrily, if he’d been closer he might have pistol-whipped me, but he obviously thought his empty gun looked impressive.

“That’s no way to greet a friend, Benny.”

He spat.

“Listen [b:880f43efed]friend[/b:880f43efed], if you know what’s good for you, you’ll beat it!”

Benny was a ghoul, and I mean [b:880f43efed]was[/b:880f43efed]. Vierge had explained that Thorp, as he was known, had ruined Benny’s Domitor. Left him looking like last years road kill. However, for all his rat-like features, Benny didn’t scare easily.

“Well I know your gun is empty. And I also know you know Graventhorp. The .38 pointed at your crotch [b:880f43efed]won’t[/b:880f43efed] be good for you.”

He stammered, not enough to be taken advantage of, but it was a start.

“I dunno who you’re blabbing about. And it’s Shark, not Benny.” He stepped closer, trying to see my face. Thankfully Owain was “watching” and was happy to oblige the rotund, fleabag.

I felt the image rather than saw it. Owain looked like death warmed up. And he wanted Benny to remember his face. A mental snigger vibrated through my skull as Owain went about his “business”. But whatever he’d shown Benny had worked. I could smell the contents of his bladder snaking down the inside of his pants.

“What are you? What do you want?”

I figured being an ex-ghoul he’d be pretty tough-skinned. Thankfully I was wrong. I clubbed him with the .38 and dragged him into the alley.


It took me a while. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not superman in the strength department. But the blood grants us nobodies a bonus here and there. Finding a rope that looked strong enough was the next problem. Tying it to Benny’s legs and suspending him from the rooftop was problem number three.

The scream as he woke up made the effort worth it.

“Wait! Wait! Pull me up! Come on man!”

I shook the rope, just to tease him obviously.

“Okay Benny-boy. I know you know Thorp. And I know that this rope doesn’t look too healthy. So let’s say we cut to the chase. Where is he?”

“Honest man, I don’t know. He was here earlier but...”

The rope creaked with the strain.

“But?”

“I’m tellin’ you man! I dunno where he is!”

“Why did he come see you then Benny? To make up for lost time?”

He was blubbering now, the wetness had returned to his pants, but now it crept towards his shirt.

“Okay, okay! I gave him a place to crash! But that’s all I know. I swear man, now pull me up! Please!”

“Awww Benny. Don’t you want to see how high you bounce? Give me the address and you can go.”

He stammered the address, the rope jerking made him speak more clearly. He wasn’t lying. At least I knew that much.

Pulling at the rope, I dragged him bawling onto the tarmac roof.

“Thanks Benny. You’re a pal. If Thorp asks, I’ll be sure to tell him how helpful you were. Don’t be a stranger.”

I walked towards the maintenance door, climbing down the steps until I hit ground level. Dragging his fat, be-hind had left me hungry. I fancied Italian. But not at this joint.

I walked onto Montgomery’s Street and hailed a cab.

“Gionotti’s please.”[/i:880f43efed]

((Kick ass post Frank))

Thorp felt both orgasmic and frustrated. To have eyesight again after months of sheer blindness was perhaps one of the best feelings of relief he had had in his entire life..and unlife. But to he was stuck in a human body, not capable of jumping froom rooftop to rooftop, not strong enough to lift the heavy Cascadian sewer-lids without a crowbar, or not even with the capabilities of moving faster than perhaps a mere 15 kilometers per hour, on full-out run, which tired the weak body after some minutes. But he was sure that if anyone had sent a bounty hunter or a similar scumbag on his trail, they had lost his track hours ago.

He walked in circles for a while, not sure what to do, missing his senses of smell and hearing...he had to relay on eyesight to know who was around. Two hours after his run-in with Benny, Thorp decided to check the place the "Shark" (he grinned a human grin.."Shark"...what a loser) had supposedly gotten for him. He reminded himself that he was on the limits of the time he could spend as Kine without losing his memory...that had happened once or twice before, and it was scary as hell. He had forgotten of everything that had happened to him after a few hours before his embrace...Gabriel and Batgirl had a hard time bringing him back to his senses.
He gazed at the window of a closed shop, smiling. Where were those times? He enjoyed the adventures he'd experienced in Cascadia, with their ups and downs...but these days seemed to be..dull, gray...boring. Was his long unlife finally getting to him?
Nah...to trigger the transformation from kindred to kine Thorp had to restrain, control, The Beast almost completely, and the lack of the nawing, nagging violence and hunger in him made him think unlike himself.

He checked a clock in the shop he was staring at...11:30pm. The night was young...but if he wanted to continue being the Thorp everyone knew and despised he had minutes to undo the transformation.

He began jogging towards an alleyway nearby and halted, closing his eyes. The human form began growing..both in bulk and stature... his features roughend and gained feral qualities, his nails darkened and toughened, growing in size and then gaining sharpness, fangs grew and protruded from his upper lip, showing even with a closed mouth...and his eyes dwindled up and dissapeared. In his right hand Lupus Mortis appeared, and on his side, its sheath. The change was complete. Graventhorp was kindred again.
He cocked his head, analyzing the sounds and scents of the city and jumped up, landing on one of the rooftops of the buildings that made the alley's walls, and began running east, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, arriving to the same alleyway where he had done the transformation. He jumped noiselessly down and retrieved his signature coat and sunglasses. Not noticing the coiled rope on the alleyway's floor.

The haven Benny had gotten him was an abandoned mausoleom on the edge of the city's cemetary, it was close to the Cascadian woods on the city's limit and has a secret passageway to them. It had been used by a name-less Gangrel years ago, but it was long forgotten now. Thorp again traveled jumping from rooftop to rooftop, using Celerity so passerby would only notice a black speeding shadow if looking up and to gain time. Soon, buildings began to dissapear, perhaps a 1 mile radius from the cemetary lacked buildings. Thorp dropped down and entered the sewers through a manhole, again using Celerity to speed through the echoing, filthy tunnels.


Benny had not changed his pants, he had more important things to do. What that kindred had done to him would be a hallowen trick compared to what Graventhorp would do to him if he found out he had blabbed.
He was standing next to a wall of the city's cemetary, a sewer lid next to his feet. After a few minutes it moved out of place, being moved by feral-clawed hands.
"Oh, thank goodne-"

Before he had finished the sentence he found himself face up on the pavement next to the sewer, a booted foot on his chest and an exquisite blade with its tip on his throat.
He wet himself again.....under the pips and squeaks his thraot made he remebered to stop drinking so much beer.

"What the fuck are ye doin' 'ere!?" Graventhorp's raspy voice demanded whipsering.
"I-I had to warn...you...I k-knew ya were goin' to arrive through here, a-and I need to talk to you...b-before you got the the place I had gott--"
Graventhorp sheathed Lupus Mortis and grabbed the urine-stinking human by the neck, pulling him up to his feet.
"Talk. Calmly."
"A kindred came to my place....looking for ya....he, he, well..he made me tell him everything..."
Benny took a step back as a low growl was emiited by the City Gangrel's throat.
"But I came here right away...I-I knew you would use this sewer to get ere, an' I came to warn you this guy knows yer new address!"
Thorp's brow furrowed. He would have to remember to change his traveling methods if a simple juicebag like Benny could decipher his routes. The news he told him weren't surprising, but he was glad he had a head start.
"What clan?"
Benny jumped at the barked question.
"I-I dunno....but he was kindred for sure!"
"The only reason yer not bleeding out through yer scrotum is 'cause you manged to undo yer mistake...but be assured," Thorp lowered his face to the cowering human's level "if ya open yer big fuckin' suck-hole again I'll squeeze yer brains out through her ears...understood?"
Benny managed to squeak an afirmative before he broke into a run away from that place.

Thorp turned towards the cemetary wall. So...someone was hot in his trail. Oh fun.

[i:108323daf2]Gionotti’s was regarded by most of the city’s residents as [b:108323daf2]the[/b:108323daf2] Italian restaurant. Yes, I still pretended to eat, but I wasn’t looking for nourishment from their Tagliatelle or Ravioli. There was something exquisite about the blood of one who had just feasted as only the Italians could feast.

I sat at my table, expertly swallowing each garlic-imbued morsel. Washing down the human meal with wine and watching the scattered remnants of the restaurant’s clientele.

Couples on first dates, others merely enjoying each others company, and a few. A select few. Sitting alone.

I swept my thoughts out, looking for a key phrase. A single whispered thought.

[b:108323daf2]Hollow.[/b:108323daf2]

I homed in on the thought. My eyes locking on a single white female. Corny I know.

She sat sipping from a glass of Burgundy, her fork toying with the pasta on her plate rather than actively trying to consume it. I could feel the pressure in her head, that feeling where all your emotions are suppressed until only grief and rage can manifest themselves. She hid it well however. Her smile was to die for.

I sent a suggestion into her mind, watching for a response over the brim of my glass. Smiling I nodded as she looked over. The nod said it all...

Can I join you?

She smiled back. Nodded to the affirmative and took another sip as I gathered up my coat, my glass nearly toppling as I stood. Good, my clumsiness had made her laugh. That’s problem number one.

“I hope you don’t mind, but it gets rather grim when you’re eating alone. Especially when such a beautiful smile is across the room from you.”

It was a terrible line. But in her wine induced state it made her blush.

“Not at all. I know what you mean.”

“Feels rather [b:108323daf2]hollow[/b:108323daf2] doesn’t it?” I attracted the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine.

“Qualche cosa di prego cameriere chiaro.” I smiled at the waiter before turning my attentions back to my company.

“You speak Italian? I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be, I’m not very fluent. I think they just feel sorry for me so they don’t question me if I talk gibberish.”

The waiter returned with a bottle of white, pouring a glass for me to taste. Accepting it he poured two glasses then left.

“So, what did you say your name was?” I smiled, dabbing my lips with a handkerchief.

“I didn’t,” She smiled again. “But it’s Molly.”

“Molly? Pretty name. Pleased to meet you Molly. I’m Sam.”

I took her hand, shaking it gently.

“You don’t seem the type to drink alone Molly. Boyfriend away on business?”

“No we...I..” I’d hit a nerve.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Please forgive me.”

“No it’s okay. It’s just a touchy subject.” She tried to laugh it off.

I sipped from my glass. I was beginning to empathise with her. I’d known the pain she felt. At times, usually when I was away from Rosie, I still felt it. We sat and chatted for a while, I couldn’t tell if it was my pretty-boy face. Or the wine. Or maybe, and I hoped it was, my conversation skills. But I could sense she was beginning to like me. The restaurant began to close up shop.

I offered to share a cab with her, wrapping my coat around my shoulders as we walked to the door. She left a tip on the table as we left. The manager had, with a careful prompt, called for a cab. And it sat outside, in gleaming yellow steel.

“Star Cabs.” I opened the rear door, ushering Molly in before I slid in on the opposite side.

“Wherever the lady wants to go, please driver.”

She gave the driver directions. And we continued our chats as the car rumbled along. The distant clouds bringing portents of further rain as we pulled up alongside a row of brownstones.

I paid the driver before following her up the steps to her apartment building.

“Would you like to...I mean a coffee?” She was suddenly nervous again.

“I’d love to. Can’t stay long though. Busy day tomorrow.” I tried to take the edge off her mind. “But coffee would be great.”

She led me into her apartment. The sweeping curves of cream fabric becoming a common feature as she showed me around the place.

“Nice place. Looks a bit big for one person though. Now about that coffee.”

I couldn’t have foretold her suddenly kissing me. The touch felt both hot and needy. I probably should have taken her then, but something stopped me. So instead we just kissed, then held each other.

It was a strange feeling. To feel needed in that way, to feel someone clinging to you as though you could save them...[/i:108323daf2]

A light snow began to fall over the dead setting of the Cascadian Cemetery, the dozens of tombstones that stood like short, small stone guardians in front of the mauseleom adding to the feeling of coldness that hung over the small section of the cemetary.

A rather large, gray owl flew over the setting and perched on the mauseleom's roof, hooting softly and analyzing the scene. After a few minutes the owl began to grow, its gray silence-inducing feathers began to melt together, thinning and become coarse hair, the beak suddenly grew fangs and merged into a mouth. The large eyes that made the owl one of the creatures with the best nightvision dwindled up and dissapeared, leaving empty sockets. The nude figure of Graventhorp posed crouching on the roof, like a hairy, feral gargoyle. The kindred stood up and jumped gracefully down, landing in front of the mauseleom's entrance, an exquisite black leather sheath with numerous ancient silver embroiderings hung at his left, standing out like a Ventrue in a sewer or a Nosferatu in a theatre during Opera Night.

The place was empty, devoid of life except for the millions of crawling vermin and similar life forms that continued with their only purpose in life...eating. Thorp sniffed the cold city air one more time before pushing the heavy masonry door open, closing it behind him.
The utter darkness within was irrevelant to the City Gangrel, his senses told him that a dust-covered flight of stone stairs stood in front of him, beneath a dense ceiling of cobwebs. His bare clawed feet began the descencion, and after a few steps they arrived to the vast first floor. The walls on either side had large "drawers" that were made long ago for storing coffins. on the center, next to tipped over candle sticks and rat droppings, stood two heavy stone sarcophagi, probably intended to be used by important people, completely empty now.

He wasn't here either. Damn. He had looked forward to his confrontation with the bounty hunter Benny had run into. Graventhorp walked at a tranquil pace forward, he effortlessly avoided the sarcophagi, the long candle sticks and other similar obstacles and arrived to the far wall where another heavy door stood, leading to a long flight of stairs that took the kindred to the underground second floor. This one was perhaps twice as big, spreading under the limits of the Cascadia Cemetary,prolonging into the underground of the surrounding woods. The second floor had not been fully finished the far wall was still rough, natural stone. Roots protruded from overhead in the parts that stood under the woods. This would make a good haven. Thorp cocked his head and walked to the east wall, the only wall in this floor that had been adapted to store coffins. He gave a couple of quick sniffs and kneeled down in front of one of such containers. He found it opened outwards easily and on the other side, 8 feet from the door, the end of the cubby. Or was it?
Graventhorp crawled in and pushed on the far wall, which didn't budge. He clicked his tongue and anlyzed how the sounds echoed back into his ears. His hand explored the wall on the left and found a small, round hole. He stuck a clawed finger into it, breaking through a spider web, and pressed on a stoen button within it. Immediatly the far wall groaned and lifted, wind and snowflakes floating in. Thorp laid on his stomach for a few seconds, smiling, and crawled forward, the stone under him shifitng to moist dirt. The dirt tunnel began tilting upwards and the kindred suddenly found himself out in the forest, emerging from under a gigantic oak tree, it's roots covering the entrance. He gave an approving grunt and crawled back in, discovering the hidden door had closed behind him.
It took him several minutes to discover the way it opened from the other side, it had been very cleverly concealed my its creators. One of the many roots that hung over the sudden smooth rock in the dirt tunnel turned out to be fake. A slight tug from it made the stone square lift up. Thorp crawled in, noticing the door closed again behind him after some seconds, and crawled out from the cubby, closing the outer door.

He cocked his head and verified he was still alone. After being happy with the result he walked back upstairs and opened the thick, heavy masonry door, it actually took lots of his strength to accomplish it, and walked into the cool January night, closing the heavy ornate door behind him. He paused a few seconds and traced the patterns on the door with his hands. The door had animal figures sculpted into it, an owl on top, an eagle spreading it huge wings on the center and a big, sitting wolf on the bottom. He chuckled, how appropiate. The eagle's head actually protruded from the door, probably once serving as a door knob, altough it would have to take the strength of several men to budge the door.

Thorp's nude figure walked into the cemetary. He went over the map in his head once again, judging his new place was actually not far from the section of the cemetary Batgirl the Cappadocian thought of as her own. maybe he would pay her a visit, but not now. No, he had a bounty hunter to dispose of. He smiled an animalistic, fanged smile and used a power he had learned not long ago, during the industrial revolution, Obfuscate, its users called it. He rarely used it, preferring to stalk prey like an actual predator, but figured it would be useful in this case, the bounty hunter had his resources.
He took a powerful leap and landed on one of the tall walls that marked the borders of the cemetary, which had stood some 50 feet away. He crouched in a position many Gangrel seemed to use and waited. The hunter would be a fool not to use the information he had retrieved while it was still fresh...