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It's already quarter after 10, and he was supposed to be here at 10. Just as you're getting ready to leave, you hear hurried footsteps pounding up the stairs. Moments later, the door bangs open and the subject of your appointment strides in.
``Sorry ...I got distracted and lost track of the time.'' he says hurridly. You catch sight of a few small blood stains on his tee-shirt, evidence of the probable ``distraction''. ``But at least I did remember.''
``Yes, you did. Finally.'' You put a slight emphasis on the last word. But it doesn't seem to matter to him in the slightest. It seems he either didn't notice, or perhaps he just doesn't care.
He turns away from you then, and goes about the small room you occupy. Occasionally, he'll pick something up and look at it curiously. But never for more than a moment. Before long, it seems that something else catches his eye, and he goes to examine the new item, replacing the previous item in a careless fashion.
As he moves about the room, you watch him, judging him, evaluating him. He looks as if he was embraced at a realtively young age. Perhaps he was in his late twenties? Certainly no more than thirty. As his glance darts around the room, his dirty blond ponytail keeps flipping around, back and forth, so often and so regularly that it's almost hypnotic. You notice that a few strands of hair from the ponytail have gotten caught in his beard, which is a few shades darker than his hair.
As your gaze lowers to his clothes, you notice that he is not garbed in the usual semi-Goth that most Kindred of his apparent age would wear. He is instead clothed in a somewhat grubby pair of blue jeans, and a somewhat nondescript tee-shirt wrapped ovr a bit of a pot-belly.
Except for the pallor of his skin, he doesn't look a bit like what I was expecting, you think. Even the way he moves around the room is more like how a mortal would move. Then you notice that the plant that he just touched wilts instantly. And although he's standing directly in front of a mirror, there's no reflection in the glass. Then again ...
He finally finishes his whirlwind tour of the room and plops down into the chair across from you. Yet even though he appears to be relaxed, his eyes never stop moving. They're constantly roving over everything behind and around you.
He sits there in silence for a few moments, and then suddenly thrusts his hand across the table towards you. Seemingly as an afterthought, he says ``My name's Scott. Scott Shelby.'' Ah ha! Finally, a name!, you think. But then he continues. ``Of course, that's not the name I was born with. I've used so many names I'm not sure which, if any, of them is my birthname.'' Hhmph. So much for that.
You reach across the table to shake his hand. When you clasp his hand, you are immediately struck by how cold his hand is, even to you. It's like you've just taken hold of an icecube straight from the freezer. Apparently noticing your reaction, Scott hurridly withdraws his hand.
``Uhh, I guess I should have warned you about that. I keep forgetting.''
``No, that's all right. No problem.'', you say hurridly. Then to try and change the subject quickly, you say, ``Now then, the reason I asked you here is that as you are new to this area it is your duty to us. I've been selected by the pack to handle newcomers. We need to know all about you, in order to decide where in the pack to place you. So, why not start with just before your embrace, if you can.''
He gazes at a point to your left for a few minutes, visibly working to dredge up as many memories as he can. As the minutes pass, you start to wonder just how long ago his Embrace was. Finalyy, he nods sligtly, as if to himself, and turns to look you in the eye.
``It all started about seven years ago. I was at a local bar, having a beer. I didn't go there often ...I never was much of a drinker or partier. But every now and then I would decide to have a beer or two. Anyway, this particular evening a guy sat down next to me and struck up a conversation. He did most of the talking, and I was quite content to let him. I had noticed that he was pretty pale, but especially since he was drinking beer right along with me the notion that he was a vampire just never even crossed my mind. Of course I've learned a few things since then ...'' He trails off into silence for a moment at that, looking like he's lost in memory. Then he visibly shakes himself and continues.
``He rambled on all evening, telling tales of monsters and horros of the night. Including, and especially, vampires. All of us that were listening to him figured him to be just another fanciful storyteller. Boy, were we ever wrong.'' At this, Scott shakes his head at the memory.
``He followed me, that night, when I left the bar. He caught up with me as we were passing near an alley. Before I knew what was happening, he had clapped his hand over my mouth, and literaly picked me up and carried me into that alley. Not far down the alley a door opened, and we went in. Through that door was a rather dingy room, lit by a single bare bulb. It was there in that room that I received the Embrace.''
When he pauses, you lean forward and ask, ``You were embraced only seven years ago?''
Scott looks up at you. ``Yeah. It was June of Ninety-Five that it happened. A Thursday, I think. In a squalid little basement room in the middle of downtown LA.''
Despite yourself, you feel your eyebrows rise. ``You're from Los Angeles?'' you interject.
Looking a bit annoyed at the interruption, Scott shakes his head. ``Nah. I'm not really from anywhere. I've moved around so much that I never really had a home. LA just happened to be where I was livin' at the time.''
``Ah, I see.'', you nod. ``Please, continue.''
``I would, if you'd just ...'' Scott breaks off with a visible effort. He makes a clearly visile effort at restraining his temper, closing his eyes and actually drawing a few deep breaths. When he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly dangerous looking sparkle in the depths of his blue eyes. Somewhat incongruously, you notice a brown fleck in the corner of one of his eyes. But when he continues speaking, there's nothing different in the inflection of his voice.
``After he embraced me, we went to his place. I found out later that little room was one of many just like it. My sire and his pack had them scattered all over town. Nice quiet little cubbies to take a victim to feed. But, anyway. Hic place. Right. Fancy place uptown. Looked like he'd had about five apartments all with walls knocked out to make one huge place. I mean this place was huge! And it was up about twenty stories, too. Boy, did that ever turn out ot be a bad move.'' At that last sentance Scott shakes his head slowly. After a moments pause, he continues.
``We stayed there for a few weeks. He was teaching me all about the unlife I now faced. Of course, the very first lesson was all about feeding. Things like always remembering to lick the wound you make, try not to kill your meal, things like that. He went all out for finesse, luring in some dumb juicebag. He'd usually go for a pretty young girl, usually a hooker. Sometimes he'd go for a pretty young boy -- he wasn't too particular in that respect. Me, I wasn't anywhere near as particular as my sire. He tried to get me to be choosy, but I didn't see much point at being that picky. I usually went for whoever looked like an easy meal.''
``After a few weeks, there was one thing that my sire kept mentioning that kept me wondering. He kept mentioning -- always very obliquely -- that we would have to move on to another city soon. He never did give me a reason why. I found out soon enough.'' Scott smiles without humor.
``It seems that my esteemed sire'' this with voice just dripping with sarcasm and vitriol ``had attracted a bit of attention, the stupid bastard. You see, this paragon of wisdom had decided to not just piss of the local Sabbat pack, but he pissed them off royally. He destroyed the pack's priest and the pack's ductus. The naive twit actually thought that he could get away with it. It seems that his Camarilla buddies hadn't told him quite how much sway the Sabbat held in that city at that time. He found out soon enough -- after the local Bishop called a blood hunt on his ass the local packs came calling. Yes, I said packs. Plural, as in. They levelled that whole fucking block in the process. It was sheer luck that I managed to escape.''
``WHen they showed up, of course they didn't bother with the doorbell. Nah, they used their own brand of subtle. First we knew they were there, they were blowing the door open with a 10 guage shotgun. And it went downhill from there. Especially when I found that the only weapon my sire had in the place was an ancient revolver, with only a handfull of rounds for it. And even worse luck, my sire already had the gun. Looked like I was gonna have to take care of myself, by myself.''
``Well, my luck came back a little in that it appeared that they didn't know I was there. For all I knew, they didn't even know I existed. And I wasn't about to walk out there and introduce myself. So I just layed low and tried to avoid getting shot full of holes. You see, the dudes with the guns weren't sparing the ammo. They were putting many holes into anything that moved, including each other at times, and even putting bunches of holes into things that weren't moving, like the walls. These guys were spraying so much lead around that the ceiling was starting to become detached from the fuckin' floor. When the place started to collapse, I decided that it was time to leave.''
``There was just one problem. To get to the door, I had to go right past all those nice young fellows with the automatic weapons. Somehow I doubt they'd let me pass without trying to turn me into a pale pink mist. But when a chunk of ceiling smashed right through the fuckin' floor, I saw my exit. Just as I was heading towards it, a really big guy with a really big gun came into the room. I figured I was done. But much to both our surprises, the ceiling directly above him chose that exact moment to collapse. He still managed to squeeze off half a clip, but he was so busy dodging the cast iron bathtub that was falling on him he didn't have much attention to spare for aiming at me. I got away with only a few small holes in my arm, down my side, and in my leg. Once I was down through the floor, it was pretty easy to get away from the shooters. The damned building was still collapsing, but I managed to get down enough floors that I could just jump out the fucking window without getting hurt any worse than I was.''
``But I still needed someplace to lie low for a while. For one, those shooters might come after me now that they knew I existed. For another, I figured my best bet was to get the fuck out of Dodge. And I didn't think I'd be able to get past the goons with the guns without help. But at that moment, what I needed the most was to feed and then heal myself. In the mood I was in I was not feeling choosy. I decided to hide out down in the sewers. I figured I'd be safe down there. Turns out I was right.'' The smile this time is slow and almost dreamy.
``Almost the moment I entered the sewers I found my meal. It was some homeless wino. I'd already lost a lot of blood in the fight, so I was in no mood to be picky. Nor was I as carefull as usual. That wino never did wake up again. I needed every bit of blood I could get at that moment. After healing the worst of my wounds, I took a look at myself. Looked like I'd need a new set of clothes, too. Mine were ripped all to shit. Well, that wino sure wasn't gonna be needin' any clothes anymore, now was he?'' At this, Scott grins quite cheerfully.
``Anyway, I took that wino's clothes. They didn't fit worth a damn, and they didn't smell too good either. But they were a damn sight better than the one's I'd been wearing. Well, after changing I happened to glance at my watch, which had somehow managed to survive. Ya just gotta love them Timex's. They ain't shittin' when they say they take a lickin' and keep on tickin'.'' Scott blinks a few times. ``Damn, that rhymed pretty good.'' He snickers a few times at that.
``I saw that it was gettin' on towards dawn. I needed to find someplace safe, like right now. So I got up, took a guess at which way to go, and took off down the sewer. Turns out I guessed right. I'd stumbled along for a few hundred yards, when I rounded a bend and ran right into someone. POW! I went tumbling onto my ass, and so did the other guy. Well, we both bounced up right quick, and I got my first up close and personal look at a Nosferatu.''
You feel your eyebrows rising again, but you don't say anything. Scott seems to not like interruptions, and also seems to get distracted a bit easily.
He continues.
``He was an ugly son of a bitch. Smelled like shit, too. Well, he just kinda cocked his head a bit, as if he was considerin' what to do with me. I'd heard a little about the Creeps before, but now a lot. With what little I'd heard I figured I had about an even chance that he'd either try and kill me or he'd talk my fuckin' ear off badgerin' me with questions about all sorts o' shit. But I'd also heard that if you wanted to know something, ask a Creep. They know shit noone else does. Seemed I had a chance at something here.''
``So I asked for shelter for the day. He kinda looked at me funny, and asked why. I told him as much as I knew about what had happened. Soon as I got done spilling the story he invited me right in. Turns out he knew all about what had happened. He didn't particularly like my sire, but he didn't hold it too much against me either. So I spent that day there, with a Creep.''
``The next night, when he finally showed up he demanded the full story from me. Well, seein' as how he'd sheltered me, I told him everything I could. When I got done, he just sat there stinking for a few minutes. Then he told me what the background was to the whole thing. It seems that the Camarilla had maneuvered my sire into destroying the pack priest and ductus, but had never told him who it was that he was destroying. He thought they were highly placed Camarilla agents that were defecting to the Sabbat.'' Scott laughs heartily. ``What an absolute dolt! It's better that he was destroyed.''
At this revelation, you lean forward and almost unwillingly ask, ``Your sire was destroyed in the fight?''
Scott looks at you and grins another death's head grin at you, nodding.
``Dead as disco. When the building collapsed a gas main ruptured. Burnt the whole fucking thing to a crisp, machine gun goons and all. Turns out the Creep was on a nearby roof, watching the whole thing go down. He knew it was gonna happen, you see. And he wanted a grandstand view. He was positive that noone escaped. And if you know the Creeps, if they say they're positive about something you can be damn sure of it.''
Scott leans back and stretches a bit, smiling. Then the smile fades and he scoots back into an upright position in the chair.
``Of course, that left me an orphan, in LA, with the local Sabbat pack kinda pissed at me. Not a real healthy position. Well, Ol' Carl the Creep took me under his wing for a while. Said he could teach me what my sire should have. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the thought of livin' with him for an extended period, but I figured that it was about the best prospect I was likely to get. So I accepted.''
``Well, Ol' Carl kept his word. He taught me more in a week than my sire had taught me in a whole fucking month. Over the year that I stayed with Carl, I learned a hell of a lot. I also worked my ass off for that Creep. Running errands damn near non-stop, going to old libraries and ancient book shops, tryin' to dig up bits of old stories and shit. Pissed me off to no end, havin' to do all this steppin' and fetchin' for a Creep. The old bastard was just fuckin' fascinated with old pirate stories, and tales of ships lost at sea. Just all sorts of nautical bullshit. More'n once I asked why he was wasting his time with all that crap. If he didn't just ignore me, he'd wave his finger at me and tell me I'd see one day. To my absolute amazement that day came.''
``That day he ordered me to go down to Such and Such dock, and find a guy named Red. Once I had done that I was to book passage for the both of us to Anchorage Alaska. Well, I just about lost it then. `Alaska! Why the fuck you wanna go there?!?' He just smiled and said I'd see when we got there. Well, I stormed out of there, half thinking that I outta just try and sneak out of town. But I wound up going on down to the docks, and arranging passage for us with Red. Later that evening, me and Carl were smuggled onboard a small freighter bound for Anchorage. When we got there, Carl found a sewer that emptied into the ocean. Fuck! I was getting sick of sewers. But of course Ol' Carl wouldn't have it any other way. I was really starting to consider gettin' the hell away from this ol' bat. But first, I wanted to find out just what could be so important to get a Creep out of his sewer and all the way up to Alaska.''
``It was already close to dawn, so we settled down for the day, well back in the sewer. Right away the next evening, Carl gave us just enough time to feed, and then told me to follow him. He turned, and dove into the water! The freaky bastard wanted to go swimming?!? Shit, I was one confused individual. But I realized that it wasn't like I could drown or anything -- I was already dead! So I decided what the fuck, and dove in after him. Well, he was waitn' down on the bottom for me, lookin' kinda impatient. But soon as I showed up he took off. We went along the bottom there for what seemed like damn near forever, but then all of a sudden we got to where we was going.''
``There was this really old looking ship sunk there. I mean, we're talking one o' them old wooden ships, with the masts and sails and cannon, the whole nine yards. It was pretty fuckin' intense. Well, Ol' Carl he smashes through the side and we go in. It was so fuckin' dark in there I couldn't see shit. Then all of a sudden there's light, damn near blinds me. Turns out Carl had a flashlight! I damn near pummled the bastard for not telling me and for not bringing it out sooner, but I managed to restrain myself as he supposedly knew what the fuck we was doin' down there, whereas I didn't have the slightest clue. Well, he shines that thing around for a couple of moments, and then busts open a door and goes on through. I followed him through, damn near ripping my fuckin' hand off on a jagged piece of wood. Well, I got done cussin' that piece of wood, and looked up. Right about then I realized exactly what we was doin' down there. Carl swung the beam of the flashlight around onto the pile in front of us, and the whole damn room lit up with the reflection off of the gold.''
At that statement, you feel your eyebrows climbing up your forehead again. ``Gold, you say? It was sunken gold you had found?'', you find yourself asking in amazement.
Scott smiles dreamily, and nods. ``Yup. There was a big ol' pile of gold. All in raw nuggets. Damn, that was one hell of a site. Well, Ol' Carl didn't give me a whole hell of a lot of time to gawk. He whips out a coupe of large sacks, and hands one to me. He takes the other and starts scooping gold into it. I got the idea pretty quick, and started scooping gold into my sack. Well, we managed to get it all into the sacks we had. I'm just real glad them sacks was strong enough. There must a been a couple hundred pounds of gold in each sack. Soon as we got done loading the sacks, we headed back towards shore. I was all for staying there, and seeing if there was any more. But it's a good thing we didn't. The eastern sky was already starting to get light when we got back to shore. If we'd stayed much longer we wouldn't've made it.''
``Well, the next evening as soon as we'd fed I asked Carl if he thought there was any more down there. He shook his head, and said that the records were quite clear that was all the ship carried. I musta looked kinda disappointed, because he grinned and said that we had about 3 million dollars worth of gold there. Well, that sure as shit amazed the fuck right outta me! 3 mil! Damn, that's a fuck of a lot of money!'' At this, Scott rises and paces back and forth a bit, obviously excited by the memory.
Nor can you blame him. After all, while 3 million dollars may be small compared to the fortunes of many of the older vampires, it is still quite a large sum.
After wandering around the room in excitement for a few more moments, Scott returns to his seat and continues the story.
``So, anyway. There we were in a sewer in Alaska with 3 million dollars worth of gold. I was wondering just what the fuck we was gonna do with it. Well, Ol Carl sends me out on a few more errands. I got us some good stout crates, and we packed the gold into 'em. On one of the other errands I arranged passage for us back to LA. So we got ourselves and our gold snuck onto the ship, and back to LA we went. Well, the Creep he gets the gold converted to real money, and invests it into some sorta dummy corporation. Along the way I learn that he's plannin' on keepin' it all for himself. That was his first mistake. Then I find that when he set up the corp, he named me as his second-in-charge-type person, which meant that if anything happened to him it would all go to me. That was his second mistake.'' As he talks, a rather feral looking smile slowly creeps across Scott's face.
``It was his third and fourth mistakes that really did him in. His third mistake was teaching me one of his Disciplines. He taught me basic Obfuscate. And his fourth mistake was letting me find out that he was going to turn me over to the Sabbat, to let them have vengance on me for what my sire did. Well that decided it for me. That very evening I made my plans.''
``I had found out some time earlier that I had a tendancy to rise earlier than other vampires, and also had an easy time staying longer than other vampires. Ol Carl on the other hand, was a heavy sleeper. So the very next evening as soon as I arose I went directly to where Carl slept, taking with me a couple of items I had prepared the previous evening. I had plenty of time to aim that stake precisely before driving it right through his heart.''
Scott starts looking just a tiny bit uncomfortable.
``I didn't really know exactly what I was doing. All I really knew was that I wanted to kill that bastard. And I wanted to make sure that he knew that I was killing him. Well, I tore into his neck, and started drinking from him, thinking that if I was to drain him that oughtta kill him. Well, I got more than I bargained for. I was so pissed off at that son of a bitch, that after I had drained him of blood I kept right on going.''
As realization starts to sink in, it must be showing on your face. Scott gives you a lopsided grin.
``Yeah, I sucked him dry, blood, life, and soul. I didn't quite realize what was going on at the moment. But oh God! did it ever feel good! The rush it gave! It was only a year or so later that I realized just what it was that I had done. It was also then that I realized just exactly what it was that I had gained. And you know what? I'd do it again given the chance.''
Scott trails off a bit after stating the last sentance in a complatelt deadpan, serious tone of voice. You believe him, too. Scott looks a bit thoughtfull for a few moments, then continues.
``After doing in Carl, I left LA. Now that I had plenty of money, and Carl had taught me how to take care of it, I decided to get the hell out of there. I went to New York for a while. While there I realized that I just really didn't like big cities that much. So I drifted up and down the coastal cities and towns for a few years, changing identities about as often as a mortal changes his underwear. I've gone through so many names even I can't remember what my original name was. My current identity is courtesy of some dumb juicebag that decided to ``befriend'' me. Stupid mortal. He let me find out that he was an orphan, and was completely new to the area. Better yet, he resembled me. So I killed him and took his identity.''
``There's not a lot left to tell. When I got to town I started looking for some property to purchase via my ``company'' for ``investment purposes''. I found a rather nice pice of land a little ways outside of town. Well, nice for my purposes, anyway. Thickly wooded, more than a bit out of the way. Since then, I've purchased a few more properties. Hell, there's even a cell tower right next to the one outside of town, so cell reception is just fine.'' As if on cue, there's a ringing from one of his pockets. Scott pulls out a phone, and answers it.
``Hello? ... Oh hey babe! What's up? ... Yeah, I can make it there by then. ... Oh really?'' Scott chuckles a bit, then covers the mouthpiece with his finger. ``It's this really stupid but gorgeous soroity chick I met the other night. She's inviting me to a sorority party, saying something about me being the party favor.'' Scott grins evilly, then uncovers the phone's mouthpiece. ``Hey babe, you mind if I bring a friend? He's even better looking then me. ... Coolness. Hang on a sec.'' He recovers the mouthpiece and looks right at you. ``You want be a party favor for a sorority?'' and put on another evil grin.
You grin right back. ``Sure, why not?'' you find yourself saying.
Scott grins and uncovers the mouthpiece. ``Heya babe you're in luck. He said yes. ... Sure, I think we can manage to scrape up some scary costumes. Tell ya what, me and my friend will come as vampires and y'all can be our victims. ... I though you'd like that idea.'' Scott looks at you and winks.
You're starting to think that this guy just might be a bit more interesting than you thought. Not to mention a lot more fun.