Stefan had awoken almost an hour, and was yet to have fully turned, nor to have shown signs of passing out again. With this little turn came an unusaul twist. The hunter had awoken quite suggestable, and had been temporarily willing to do most anything he was told. Over the course of further interogatin he had revealed the location of several personel effects, mostly being weapons that he was privy to.The cache was revealed to be around 7 blocks away, and Van ordered the unwitting slave to go return with these items. This took roughly another hour and a bit, but the wait was well worth it. The cache consited primarily of standard issue gear, as well as replacements, special items of Stefan's issue, and some basic survival gear, including a slighty filled bank account, which would hopefully have easy access.

Sorting the bags of s, Van handed out items for people to decide on. It included a standard kevlar vest with 2 replacements, totalling 3 type IV ballistic vests, and PASGT ceramic plates for the vests. There was one suit of intercepter light armour, which Van kept for himself. There was some carbon nano-fibre pads for cushioning with light ballistic prottection, enough for 3 people, two more 9mm magnum handguns, with 20 clips, 5 12 round mags each, and the last notable items being many stakes, some phospherous detnators and grenades, a combat knife and an unusual rifle.

Everyone was relaxing now h\that it seemed they had addequate protection against the new threat, and a new, much stronger member. Stefan was begining to become more coherent in speech and thought, and was muttering a resignation to himself of what he was, and that he had no alternative to living other then death. Van was quite content with his rambling and began inspecting the rifle with Jack and Kyle. It was cambered for the standard 5.56x 45mm Nato, so amunition would be easy to attain, but it seemed each of the 20 magazines contained only 14 rounds. The rifle itself was an automatic, so it was rather an oddity. The barrel had a flashlight underneath, and a laser sight attached. On the top of the firing chamber, an lcd screen kept count of ammunition. It was registering a full clip already inserted.

Kyle picked up the gun, shouldered it, and took an aim at a metal sheet of a crate. Pulling the trigger, the rifle bucked slightly as the gun spat out 11 shells of spent munitions within a second. Van prised the weapon over, and noted the sloppy job for someone apparently adept. Relying mostly on the laser sight, Van noticed the group wasn't out, but rather Kyle had nearly fallen. tapping the trigger, the riflr coughed the last 3 rouns, and it was revealed that it was rougly a 3mm group. An excellent accuracy. Everyone took consoldation in the ability demonstrated by the leader, but Van still wasn't happy. His left arm had given way on that shot, and he noticed that it was barely any better.

---

There was a forensic team still on the scene when Frank arrived. The area was cut off by blue and white tape and a white tent stood in the middle of the street. Frank flashed his badge and entered.

"Would some one like to tell me what went on?" An man in a white over coat replied.
"Its very strange Sir, very strange."
"Spit it out man, I don't have all day!"
"There are plenty of rounds, ammunition but no bodies. Plenty of blood, but no bodies."
Frank sighed. Again, it seemed like another vampire attack.
"Ok, keep looking." He couldn't be sure, he had to make sure that he couldn't handle this on his own.
"Do we have any witnesses?"
"We do. The landlord claims to have seen the whole thing."
"Do you have a statement?"
"No, we thought you wanted to speak to him first."
"Where is he?" The man indictated with his head. In the pub.

Frank went in, it was a dingy place, low ceilings, dark, reeked of smoke even though it had been banned ever since Frank could remember. But he was not interested in that now.
"Can I help ya?" said a bald man from behind the bar.
"Yeah, you can. I'm investigating a shooting that took place here. Last night?"
"Took you lot long enough to come and get me didn't it? Yeah I saw something, whats innit for me?" It was a long day. Frank was depressed and angry that he could't do any real police work.
"Listen, unless you tell me exactly what happened last night, I'll have your license revoked for smoking in a public place." The man scowled,
"you aint got nah evidence against me"
"I don't need any". And it was true.
"Awright, awright, I don't care anyhow. There were some blokes." Frank started taking notes. "And they was shootin at each other like, an then there was a scuffle and they bit 'im."
"They, who's they? Can you describe them?" The man whistled
"Your a bit slow aint ya? Theys them vampires. Theys are back."

The man was drunk, Frank realised. There was no point in talking to him anymore, he had what he needed. A bite, blood, no bodies. A vampire attack. Although one thing did surprise him. From the landlord's descriptions, the victim sounded like he had put up a fight. A member of V-Branch perhaps? So they were killing V-Branch members. That was news. There was another thing that was wrong. The man had known about vampires. Were the population becoming more aware? Had they realized that something wasn't right? Surely, it would only be a thing the more the people knew. . .

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


Debussy, Journey and Jaques had seen him before he had seen them. A big man. He walked with the confidence of someone who had great self belief. Debussy thought he looked very much like one of the old Tsars. Peter the Great, perhaps. Broad chested and tree trunks for legs. Debussy wished he could have faced this man 100 years ago, then he wouldn't have had to be so cautious.

"We are doing this now" Debussy said.
"Now?" Journey replied. "Don't we wait a while?"
"No the quicker, the better." Jaques cut in. "The element of surprise."
"Stay away from him if possible, we don't want to get close." Journey looked annoyed, she like to get up in the faces of the people she killed.
"Once he is weakened, you use your strength to finish him, Ok Journey?" She smiled.

Debussy pulled out his revolver. He took aim, humming Wagner's Ride of the Valkyrie as he did so. Jaques and Journey split away, fighting instinct kicking in to both of them. They rounded the hunter. They had him trapped.  Debussy steadied his aim, on the hunter's back; still unaware. He pulled the trigger and the hammer fell.

The gun cracked to life and Debussy felt the kick jar up his elbow. The shot was accurate, the bullet; true but at the last moment the hunter had leaped athletically to the side and Debussy saw the shot enter his thigh. He tried to shout . ."Journey, NO!" But it was too late she had already attacked the hunter, but the hunter was fast and blocked her sword with his forearm before bringing a stake up into her midriff but he had missed her heart. At the same time Jaques stepped in and his blade into the hunter's chest. He roared and flung Journey to the ground, before taking a swipe at Jaques' face who crumpled to the ground.

Finally Debussy had another clear shot. He took aim, calmed himself and shot again but the hunter was running now, dancing, zigzagging in front of him. He shot and shot again before he heard the dreaded click clicking of an empty chamber. The hunter stopped, turned and smiled. Blood oozed down his chest and mouth. His arm was hanging limply at his side. But he was still smiling. Debussy drew his sword. All around him, he heard screams of civilians, running away from the bloody carnage. As the hunter stepped forwards, Debussy took a step backwards, his sword outstretched as if to ward off this gigantic beast of a man. Debussy saw Journey get up, her eyes were white and she was smiling manically. The hunter hadn't noticed her and his eyed bulged in surprise as she hacked down again and again and again on his neck. Before drinking. She started to  laugh.

"Oh that was brilliant, Debussy, we should do it again." Debussy meekly nodded. Before the blood lust took him and he fed ravenously. Journey was right, the blood was and it rejuvenated the party. They dragged the body into a small alley way before drinking him dry. Debussy shuddered. He was weak and og how he hated himself for it. More and more often he wished that he was in his prime again. . .but he shouldn't think of that now. Now they was a time of celebration. Their home was secure.

Not as as I wanted it to be. You know how you get half way and you think that you should change it? Yeah well I couldn't be asked. And I realise I left the Hell Hounds out of the fight for some reason.

---

Cretin=

brainless, stupid and full of pointless information that makes no sense and appeals only to other cretins. They can be found in every single internet forum, where they race to post as many mind-numbing messages as possible.

    Journey was invigorated. She still didn't trust Jaques and would be more than happy to feast on him, but for now, she would just watch him and wait. It was clear debussy felt the same way. Regardless, it had been some time since she had that much fun. That "hunter" as Debussy called him, was certainly a challenge.  Even more so than those rogues she had taken to hunting. He had even managed to injure her, if barely. Those other hunters out there had better beware, she was not going to be ill prepared again. She had thougt the same as the rest of the humans, but she was wrong. Oh well, they could still die. And they would. Hmmm, it looked like Journey had a new prey. Yum. It's too bad she couldn't put an ad on Craigslist or something. She smiled. Exactly how would that go?;

                          "Single, white Vamp, looking for a little fun. Have a hunter problem in  your crypt? Not anymore! Call Journey, she'll help you get rid of them once and for all! Just dial 020-KILL-THEM."

    Surely that wouldn't get the wrong kind of attention. She probably shouldn't share that little joke with debussy, he didn't seem to be in the mood to deal with her silliness. Journey was just so amped after the invigorating fight and the sweet blood of the hunter. However, there was something niggling at her mind. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had a feeling that Niah may be in trouble. Well, that would give her something to do.
   
    "Debussy", she said," I'm bored and the night has just begun, I'm going out for a bit."
   
    Debussy looked at her incredulously. " How I wish I still had that kind of energy. Go then." He wanted to tell her to be careful, but he knew she would only laugh and call him a foolish old vamp. Besides, as vicious as she was, she was nothing if not careful. After all, she was obviously a seasoned killer when he met her, she hadn't gotten that far by being stupid. Debussy returned his attention to the conversation he was having with Jaques.
   
    Journey decided she was going to go check on Niah and Vincent, just to be certain everything was alright. She made her way to the subway, which was packed with party goers. She looked at her watch; still plenty of time before daybreak. She would make it to and from Niah's easily, in this time.

    Jounety looked at all of the humans milling around the subway station. They had no idea they were in the presence of death. How easy it would be for her to take one, right here, in front of them all. It would be quite funny to watch them all scream and run away, in horror, trying to escape her. It would be like those old Grand Theft Auto games that her grandmother told her about. Every time one person got shot, the others would run away, sometimes jumping onto the tracks and being hit by oncoming trains. Marvelous, she thought.

    Journey jumped onto the train and a short time later, she was exiting the subway station a short ways from Niah and Vincent's home. She walked for a bit and entered the neighborhood. It was such a lovely place, the type of neighborhood she would have loved to live in, had she remained human. The neighbors in these places were always so nosy though, that certainly wouldn't have done. Oh well, no reason to think about that now. She had Debussy and all the blood she could ever hope for. It didn't get much better than that.

    As Journey approached the house, she noticed that it had changed. The windows were all boarded up, and it had the appearance of not being lived in for awhile. She knocked anyway, and was about to walk off, when she spied the camera. It was small and barely noticeable. No human would have ever noticed it. Perhaps they were down there, watching her now. They would be wondering what the Hell she was doing there after all this time. "Well, only one thing to do." Jouney thought. She smiled. The light glinted off of her vicious looking canines. As as there eyes were, as vampires, they surely saw this. Let them make of it what they will.

    "Excuse me, young lady." a voice said, "They're away in Iceland." Journey turned around to see a very old woman approaching her. "I'm Iris Goldsmith, I live right over there.", she pointed at a house, "Vinnie and Niah left soem tiem ago to Iceland, I don't think they'll be returning. You see, Niah is a doctor and got an excellent job..."

    "Oh that's too bad", Journey interrupted. "I'm an old friend of Vinnie's, from way back in the day. You could even say that I'm the reason he and Niah met. I'm in London for a few days and was hoping to see them, but c'est la vie."

    The old woman was so sweet looking, Journey wanted to rip her face off, and then feast on the fountein of blood that erupted, leaving her half drained and dying corpse in the street. That just wouldn't so though, Vincent had no idea how vicious Journey really was. Instead, she smiled sweetly at the old woman.

    "Well, I had better go then."
    "Wait a minute dear, what's your name"
    "Journey", she replied, and looked again at the camera, and smiled. She had no idea if they were there, or if they had audio on the camera, but, if they did,  they would know that they had an ally out there. She dropped a small piece of paper, with her phone number on it. Hopefully they would get it. If not, there was no harm. The writing was too small for any human to read. Plus it was written in a code that Vincent had taught her long ago, for kicks.

    Journey left, still feeling that Niah may be in trouble, but content that it was not anything immediate. She walked to the subway and went home. As she opened the door, it dawned on her to tell Debussy about everything, just in case they ever called.

    "Debussy, love, I need to speak to you." she called.
    Debussy walked into the living room, "What is it Journey?" She looked fine, so it must not be anything serious.
    "Well, I want to tell you a bit about my past, and then I need you to explain something to me."
    Journey went on to tell him all about Vincent and Niah, how she had felt for him, how he had left. Then she told him of the time that Journey "saved" her from the vamp and then turned her into one. Then she told him of her visit tonight.
    "Well, that's quite a story. I knew you had some kind of ulterior motive when agreeing to let me turn you, and I am not surprised it was revenge. It didn't turn out as you expected, did it?"
    "No" Journey replied, "Now I have this strange feeling of protectiveness toward her. I have this strange attachment and I'm not sure what it is. It makes me very uncomfortable. Is this normal?"
    Debussy laughed, "Well, I can see how it would make one like you uncomfortable, let me explain..."


OOC: Now if anyone wants to try and mess with Niah and Vincent, they'll have Journey to contend with too. With Journey comes Debussy, Jaques, Mozart and Dumont. There's no chance of coming out of that unscathed and a very minimal chance of coming out of it at all. Think very carefully.



   

   

---

OOC: Hey, I think if I took my motley crew for a spin, I could damn well take most of London(With luck) before the military arrives. That, or just go and send a reprogrammed Stefan for a spin. But he won't do much for a little while.

Tossing aside the empty rifle clip, Van sat and finally reflected on what was happening. Which then made him feel all the worse, when the tearing sensation ripped at his heart, and he realised he should be the one to blame for the condition of Alex. He sat there, and found himself staring at her. Watching her, as she kept up her guard, and discretely Stefan's knife, while she was checking the obsequious hunter. He noticed his face begin to burn, and passed it off as heat, by removing his jacket and bandages. But he still couldn't hide the forming tears.

The bandage on his right arm began to prove a challenge, and Van supposed it was still down to the way the left arm was behaving. Almost like it had it's own consiousness. It slowly was regaining it's strenth, but the tugging was still there. Faint, directed, but present none the less. There were marks from where Stefan had grabbed the knuckled hand. But this what he really had to fear. As obediant as the vampire had become, he was not doing much. Sitting, rocking like one of those people in the straight jackets from old movies. Like he was fighting in a mental battlefeild.

If the hunter side one... Well, the six of them only had an advantage of numbers and guns. But Stefan was now a vampire, and he would realise that he was more powerful then ever before now. Perhaps one of the most physicaly powerful vampires ever. Van left his mind be for now, and turned to watch Kyle attempt to deconstruct the rifle. Not a idea, unless Stefan would asist in re-assembling it.

---

Vincent stood rigid, staring at the CCTV monitor with wide eyes. Niah was calling him, asking what was wrong, but he simply could not hear her. He pursed his lips.
"Journey" He whispered softly.
He shook his head in disbelief.
"She found us," He said to himself, then shouted, "Niah!"
Niah ran to where Vincent was to see what was wrong, but by the time she had reached him Journey had gone.
"Dammit." He said, "I won't be long, I just need to check something"
He kissed her and left via the steel door and made his way upstairs, leaving Niah a little stunned and confused.
He glanced through the tiny spyhole in the door, then opened it slowly. Then, once he was sure nobody was looking he knelt down to the floor and picked up a seemingly blank piece of paper Journey had left.
Once he was back in the crypt he secured the door and placed the paper on the desk the laptop was on. He picked it up and held it to the light.
"Vincent...what is that...what is going on?" Niah said, putting her arm around him.
"The first day we met, in the conference you attended on vampirism...the woman I was with."
"Journey?" Niah said quizzically
"Indeed. I saw her on the monitor...Or at least she identified herself as such. But she looked different...I think she's a..."
"What is she doing here?" Niah cut in.
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
He turned the piece of paper around and studied the back, then flipped it back and noticed some very small scrawlings.
"Niah," Vincent said, frowning at the piece of paper "Do you have a magnifying glass?"
"No...but I do have a microscope."
Vincent heard Niah walk off to her lab equipment and return with a heavy black microscope. She set it on the desk and set it to a low setting. It was digital and would automatically focus and highlight areas of the object that might be of interest.
Vincent slid the piece of paper underneath the microscope and immediately recognised what he saw.
"It's Journey alright," Vincent said, "This is my code...It appears to be a phone number."
Vincent turned to his laptop and reinstalled Skype. He added her number to his contacts, then closed it down again.
Niah looked troubled.
"Vincent," She said absently, "What if she...?"
"Don't worry babe," He said as he stood to embrace her, "I wont let her harm you."
"But if it was her...why would she...?"
"I honestly don't know. I know as much as you here. One thing is for sure, we have to get to the bottom of this. The dreams I've been having are telling me to go to Camden. I know it's a long shot, but we really need answers here. And I believe they can be found there. Help me pack up the stakes and syringes, I have a feeling we'll need them where we're going."
He kissed her forehead then turned back to the laptop and opened Skype up again. He looked at her number and shook his head. His hand reached the mouse and he carefully moved the cursor towards the call button.
Doubts flooded his mind and he retracted his hand.
Not yet, Camden first.

---

The only thing worse that beating a dead horse is betting on one.

"Its perfectly normal. Once you turn a human, you naturally feel protective of them because they now have part of your DNA." Debussy wasn't a scientist but he explain it in the broadest terms. Journey nodded.
"But I don't want to feel like that towards her, I hate . . .hated her."
"Its not really your choice anymore. When you turn someone it is a bit like having a child although not quite. You have given her part of yourself and you wish to protect your. . .investment. Or something like that. Look, I don't understand it that well myself but it is normal so don't worry. Actually. . ." Debussy began pacing the room, lost in his thoughts. . "Actually . . .how did you leave it with Vincent?"
"Why?"
"Well she may feel different towards you too. May, I am not sure though. . .and . . " Again Debussy's mind turned to the future. . "Well, its always to have friends"
"We separated as friends"
"Interesting. . .and does she know that you turned her?"
"No, but it doesn't matter. If I didn't the other vampire would have anyway."
"Yes yes. . .indeed. Erm I must work on. . .the. . the . ."
"Tarots?"
"Yes, exactly"
"Very well, I shall leave you to it."

When Journey had left Debussy removed the cards from his breast pocket and dealt them in a circle face up. He could see them all. . .the Tower, the D, the magician, all of them. They reeked of power and magic- of  brimstone  and fire. He remembered the words of La Tarot - "given the right place and sound; they can be summoned from the other place." Inside that book was a piece of music and Debussy sang it now.

If his body had weakened with age, his voice was still strong. He filled his lungs and sung the music. The sound reverberated around the room, a mist had appeared, he heard laughter, the sound of a flute louder than his voice- Debussy sang louder still, he thought his lungs would burst but his voice did not falter. A wind had appeared from somewhere, a murmuring could be heard, the sound of a pianoforte. Through the twilight atmosphere, the cards were coming to life. The forms were released from their pigment and paint, they seemed to take form and shape. Debussy kept singing, for some reason he knew, if he stopped now he would die. Suddenly there was a rushing of air and the sensation that he was not alone. There were beings around him, how many? Spirits? He could not say for sure. All the natural rules had been obliterated. His self and other selves, past and present and yet to come, were in the room. They brushed his shoulders and skimmed over him, getting ever closer. It seemed that they flew through the air, a fleeting presence and  yet they seemed to have weight and mass. He dropped to his knees as if being crushed, he was everywhere, or at least some of him was everywhere. The music had reached a crescendo and still Debussy sang.

Instantly, there a deathly silence oppressed the room and with it came a mighty scream that seemed to bring the very stench of hell into to the room. Debussy laughed, he had done it. He had defeated what ever will had not wanted him to continue. The room was filled with mist, and he could hear a scraping and as the mist cleared, he saw it: a hulking mass of smoke and fire; coiling up to the ceiling. When it spoke its voice was deep and vibrating and Debussy could see an orange glow from the depths of his eyes and mouth.

"I am Aamon, why have you called me here?" Debussy was lost for words, he could not believe that he he had done it. Eventually he found the courage to speak.
"I have called you here Aamon, to serve under me. Between you and me we shall rule this world." Aamon laughed.
"You and me?! You and me? You amuse me mortal, I have 40 legions at my back and you presume that I would share my wealth with you? HA!"
"I am no mortal. I have been on this earth for over 150 years. I have summoned you. So you will do as I command." Debussy's voice was rising. "The cards are positioned so that they command you to do as I say. Without me, you have no link to the world and the other. Without me you will have no glory." Aamon looked down, scanning the cards for a flaw. There was none.
"Very well. You are no mortal you say? Then I have dealt with your kind before. Tell me. do you still run around in the dark? Are you still second to humans?" Again Aamon laughed.
"That is what you will grant us- Domination, and in return, we shall grant you a life on Earth. But for now, sit there. You cannot escape the circle of the Tarot. You will sit there and mull it over yes?" Now Debussy had the other hand and he knew it. Aamon was powerless against him. Debussy went to find Journey to let her know the news.

Soon they would go after the other hunter, though without Aamon. He was too unreliable and he needed him for another purpose.


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

Frank had just been told of another shooting and another vampire killing- in front of 30 witnesses. He had told V-branch. There was nothing he could do but the rumors must be flying thick and fast now, he thought.

---

Cretin=

brainless, stupid and full of pointless information that makes no sense and appeals only to other cretins. They can be found in every single internet forum, where they race to post as many mind-numbing messages as possible.

OOC: This is set at the same time as my previous post, so sorry for going against the time system .

   Michael patrolled the streets of London, amazed at his ne abilities. The old man was right. He could hear people's conversations from inside their houses on the opposite side of the road, and his poor vision he once had had become much clearer and more detailed. After an hour's jogging, he wasn't even remotely tired out, though he had been moving fairly slowly. But vampirism wasn't a total gift. He could feel the need tofeed, and instinctively knew that it was something to do with being newly turned and needing the energy to adjust, and the fact there was almost no blood left in him. A normal human would be long dead with that little blood running through their veins. Everyone he saw was at risk, and the urge to lunge at them and feed was becoming greater each time.

   But he had a mission. Find the hunter. He was paranoid that this was just a wild goose chse, invented to keep him out the way for a while, for whatever reason. Finding a "hunter", whatever that even was, seemed impossible. And he was scared that, if this vampire killer did exist, he would find Michael first, instead of the other way round.

   His jog slowed to a walk. He was, quite frankly, bored of the night. But then he saw someone ahead of him. Alone, a guy about his own age. He was out of breath, his face glowing red. The colour reminded him of blood. Michael wiped the sweat off his forhead, trying to resist the urge to bleed him dry. But the feeling was too great. He rushed forwards, the vampire in him literally taking control, giving him even further increased senses and forcing him to run even faster. Terrified, the stranger saw him and tried to run across the street. Michael followed him, and, dived towards him, right in the middle of the road.

 

   He awoke in hospital the next day (OOC: Caught up with the RP now.).

"Relax." A voice said. "You were hit by a car on Crossens Street.You've not been seriously injured, but you lost a lot of blood.." A nurse told him.

"Am I in hospital?" He asked.

The nurse chuckled. "No, you're not." He said.

"Where then?"

"V-Branch medical centre for NW5. I assume you've heard of us."

Michael shook his head.

"No? Well, we'll have to explain then."

The 'nurse' clicked a red button besides Michael's bed, and another man entered the room. He looked reasonably young, but had scars across his face, and a very strong build.

"This is Gavin Harvey." He grinned cruelly.

"Who?" Michael said.

"The best hunter you'll ever meet."

Hunter. There was that word again. The old man hadn't been lying.

"I should go." Michael stuttered.

"Oh no." The nurse said. "We know what you are. And we're willing to let you live, if you answer our questions."

"Come with me." Gavin grunted, leaving the room. Michael stood up, realising he was still wearing the same blood splattered clothes, and followed him.

"What's V-Branch?" Michael said.

"We're responsible for keeping scum like you dead. Why the undead have to be undead though I'll never know. If I had my way, you'd be shot the moment you came in here. This is only for people wounded by vampire attacks who could help us, but apparently you can as well."

"How?" Michael asked. The two of them went into a room, and sat down at a small table. Gavin locked the door behind them.

"We've ran tests on your blood. Lots of it is still normal human. Vampire bites should turn someone much quicker than you've been turned. This tells us you were bitten recently, and by an older vampire, since he's less evolved. Or she?"

"He..." Michael muttered.

"Thankyou very much." Gavin smirked. Michael realised that he would get every piece of information out of him about Jacob, even is Michael didn't realise it.

"Now. Where is he based?" Gavin asked.

"I don't know..." Michael muttered.

"Tell me." He growled, raising a gun.

"Number 57, Winchester lane." Michael burst out.

"Ha. Thankyou Michael, you have been a great help to us." Harvey grinned.

"How do you know my -" He asked, but was stopped midsentence, by a bullet right between the eyes.

 

His corpse dropped to the floor, blood pouring fromthe head.

"As if I'd let any vampire live..." Harvey grunted. "Bury the body." He ordered a doctor behind him.

Niah was still shaken. This was the first time she'd seen a vampire besides herself or Vincent since she'd been turned. Of course, she'd seen them before.... The night they massacred her family...

Niah forced herself to turn her mind to other matters. Vincent's dreams... what could they mean? What was in Camden? She'd never even been to Camden, so she had no idea. What could be causing the dreams? Was it some sort of vampire thing? If so, why wasn't she getting them?

Suddenly, Niah was ravenous. She hadn't fed since the dog, she realised... Vincent seemed to have forgotten about hitting up the hospital's blood stocks...
"Babe? Before we go to Camden... Do you think we could... get something to eat? You suggested donated blood the other day, remember?" She felt weird asking this... 'you man, you go bring food, me sit here and be useless woman'. OK, so maybe not quite that bad... still, she had learned to be self sufficient, not to rely on others or expect anything from them, before she was turned, but now... She was almost completely dependant on Vincent, if not for him she would starve, if not for him she'd probably just set up a lawn chair and go out to watch the sun rise...

Once more turning her mind to other matters, Niah wondered about Journey's visit. She had only met her the one time, and she had seemed nice enough. Vincent had been in a relationship with her for a while, so she must be a good enough person... Had the same sort of horrible thing happened to Journey that had happened to Niah? Of course, it must have... Who would willingly become a monster, after all?
The bigger question was how she had found them... They had taken great effort in not raising suspicions or being found... Perhaps she hadn't been sure they'd be there, had just shown up on the off chance... What if she needed help? What if she was all alone, hating herself just as Niah did?
They had to find Journey, make sure she was alright. First, though... Food.

---

*Needs a new sig*
Any volunteers?

*Rok arose on his last free day. Tomorrow would be his first day at his job, and he wouldn't be able to sleep as much as he wanted anymore. It wasn't the first time he'd worked as a security guard, but it was his first time to work as one in London, but he had managed to undergo the training needed in one of the European countries. Unfortunately, the security guards here were unarmed, which wasn't nearly as fun. Rok could take an infinite amount of bullets in him and still be fine, so he really wasn't worried about any of the dangers involved. His main aim was to keep humans safe.*

*Rok did his morning ritual of brushing his teeth, making breakfast and such, and headed out his door. This time, he had dressed himself much more warmly than last. He had leather gloves, a scarf, a warm leather jacket, baggy pants, and huge boots. He took a walk to the two buildings where he had sensed vampire presence. One was some municipality building, the other was just a sort of shack amongst the houses. Since the shack only had a slight sense, Rok figured there was only one weak vampire inside, one which he could easily kill by himself if he had the element of surprise - which he did.*

*He walked around for a bit, trying to find a nice piece of wood to make a stake out of. He found an old barstool lying outside the back of one of the pubs and removed it's on leg with a little bit of force. He tried snapping the wood on his leg, but that failed miserably; so he placed the stick against a wall and jumped on it, but once again he failed to break it. On the bright side it wouldn't be easy for any vamp to destroy his stake. Rok then decided it wise to start smacking the stick against the corner of a wall with all his might until it snapped.*

*After a while Rok finally managed to snap the stick in half, and he now had two extremely strong stakes to work with. He stuffed one down each side of his belt, and stood triumphantly in his glory. At that moment Rok heard the door opening and he retreated over a wall very quickly. He turned and peeked over the wall to see who it was. Unsurprisingly, it was the barkeep trying to see who was making a racket behind his pub, probably expecting to see some teenagers. Rok turned to the streets once again, bored by that entertainment now.*

*He made his way back to the shack and thought of the perfect spot to wait for, and later ambush, the unsuspecting vampire. He pondered all the different exit points, and where he could gain the most advantage. He began to wonder if there was more than one inside the shack, and what he would do in that case. He dismissed this idea for two reasons: firstly, his sense for vampires was impeccable, and it was either one weak vampire, or 20 vampires which were all weaker than church mice. The second reason was that he was excellent at stealth, and the vampires would not be able to find him. Rok eventually found a nice dark and dingy spot that the vampire would surely have to pass when it awoke, and he waited patiently for darkness.*

---

[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

Anthony woke up and prepared to knock the first person off his hit list. He looked at his phone and headed to the sector that Niah lived in. On the way there his phone rang...

Hello?

Yes this is Anthony.

God damn it Anthony, this is Jerry. If anyone calls you, you have to tell em your name is Adam. We can't risk you getting in trouble with the police. Anyway, Niah's off your list. There was a mess up in the hit list. She doesn't even live in London nor is she a vampire.

Ok, I'll go to the next person then.

Anthony hung up the phone and looked to see who the next vampire on his list was. It was a vampire named Gabriel who lived in C7. Anthony went to hunt him down.

When he got to the suspected crypt of Gabriel he knocked on the door. He knocked once again and just as he was getting ready to knock down the door, a vampire jumped through the second story window onto Anthony. Anthony punched Gabriel in the face and kicked him off. Anthony got up and pulled out a stake. Gabriel looked like a vampire on roids, which could have contributed to why he was made a soldier. He pulled out a knife and threw it at Anthony. Anthony cringed as it stuck him in the leg but then smiled at Gabriel when he didn't feel pain. He showed Gabriel his teeth who now had a stunned look on his face.

Why are you attacking your own kind, there are plenty of humans to feed on.

Anthony didn't respond and just ran at Gabriel. Gabriel picked up a 2X4 laying on the ground and wacked Anthony who went flying at least 10 feet. Anthony put away the stake and pulled out the new gun. Gabriel smiled at him and punched his own chest as if he was taunting for Anthony to shoot him. Anthony shot him right in the chest and Gabriel has a frightened look on his face. Slowly he fell to the ground and faded into dust.

Anthony went home to investigate his next hit.

---

My username has nothing to do with this!!!! --->

Vincent paused and looked into Niah's eyes. He held her close.
"I have to admit...I have some very strong urges to feed...I suppose I've been suppressing them somewhat..." He said, sighing and looking away at the floor.
He had been wanting to go find out what could possibly be at Camden for the longest time. He felt sure if he didn't go...whoever was sending him these dreams would make him go. But Niah was right...they could not just rush into things like this.
On top of that they had a vampire hunter of sorts in the neighborhood. Wonderful.
They would need to be at their strongest if they ever came into contact with her.

Vincent looked back at Niah and held her hand and stroked it with his index finger. He felt something that caught his attention.
Her ring. She had worn it ever since he proposed to her.
He would not have normally thought anything about it, but there was indeed something curious about the history of that ring. It was in fact handed down to him to give to any future potential wife by his grandmother.
Mrs Hilda Dafoe was a rather unusual lady. She had traveled the world, collecting various rare trinkets as she visited a myriad of exotic places. According to his grandfather in her younger years she had also had an obscure sexual desire. She had found men to sleep with all over the world and she had made it into a sort of game. She had in fact earned a lot of the wealth she used to buy all the rare pieces in her collection this way...Vincent knew the ring was of Byzantine design and that it had come into his grandmothers possession with a rather disturbing story.
It had been worn by an Ottoman trader by the name of Kadri who was said to have been dragged into insanity one night he was with a prostitute.
She had apparently bitten the trader on the neck and had left him, so the story goes, for dead. However he survived the encounter and underwent mysterious changes of the body and mind. The ring he wore was said to have provided some sort of psychic link between him and his wife, Hadice, which was strongest when he underwent a ritual that involved drinking human blood.

He brushed the thoughts away and smiled at Niah. She looked frustrated...probably because she felt so helpless, losing her independency like this.
"Alright, get your doctors uniform, we'll need to do this together."
With that they both set off to the hospital. It was the first time they had been outside together and were feeling much more confident. The physical changes they had undergone meant they would probably not be recognised anyway. It was not as if they were very well known around these parts anyway.
They entered the hospital and blended in perfectly. Nobody would check to see if Vincents ID badge matched up to his face. He easily slipped into his role as a doctor and made sure he looked determined and purposeful. Nobody would stop and talk to him, he was a doctor. He was on a mission.
They reached the blood storage and Vincent opened up a large white case that Niah had given him. It was normally home to medical supplies, but it would be large enough to carry enough blood to last them for quite a while. There was no CCTV that Vincent could see looking at the bloodbank, but he let Niah carry out the theft anyway. She knew the professional procedure and would be able to fool any passers by.
He filled the medical box with plastic bags full of precious fresh blood and left the hospital nonchalantly. Doctors are trusted and given a lot of power, thought Vincent. They're given the power to save lives...but they can just as easily take it away...as recent newspaper reports had told him.
He considered his own position for a moment. He had been granted awesome power by his vampirism, yet he chose not to use it.
Maybe it isn't the power itself that corrupts, but the intentions behind acquiring and indeed, using that power.
Something at the back his mind niggled away though, as they returned to their crypt. The power he had was tempting.
Maybe a little too tempting.

---

The only thing worse that beating a dead horse is betting on one.

*Darkness eventually fell after an hour or so, and Rok could feel the chill begin to set in. He was hoping this vampire could just hurry up and come out soon so he could be over with it and head off back home. After one hour of sitting there, the boredom had set in, and Rok had become very impatient. He wasn't as phased by the cold now however, since he had his warm outfit on, but his mind was racing more and more as time went on. At one point, his mind had drifted off to his past, and what had happened to all the people he knew - and what they thought happened to him. He thought over his current situation, and how he would ambush the vampire. He would adopt that woman's tactic, the one he'd seen the other night, and attack from behind while the vampire least expected it. He heard the door squeak slightly, and prepared himself for the kill.*

*Rok saw the shadow of this creature on the wall as it approached his ambush spot. It was moving very nervously, carefully trying not to attract any attention. As it drew closer, Rok could feel his every movement, until it was right beside him. The vampire didn't even notice Rok in the slightest. They couldn't have been 2 metres apart, but nothing. Rok waited for it to move slightly passed him before he would strike. Rok could now see that it was a male figure, in his early forties, late thirties. His strides were wide, his arms movements over exaggerated. Why was he walking so unusually? He must have seen one too many vampire movies in his days. The vamp shifted passed Rok, and he decided now would be the opportune time to strike. Rok picked up a nearby stone and launched it behind the vampire, hitting the floor with a scrapping thud. The vampire turned to look where the noise had come from, and at that moment Rok lunged at him with one of his stakes.*

*The vampire turned to see Rok and dodged the attack just in time. Rok tried to bring back the stake for a second attempt, but the vampire grabbed his arm - stopping it in its tracks. The vampire tightened his grip and threw Rok into the wall turning to run. Rok grabbed the vamp before he could begin his escape and jabbed at its back with his stake. The stake pierced the vampire's kidney and he let out a small whimper of pain. He grabbed Rok's arm and pulled him closer. Then, the vampire exposed his teeth and thrust them towards Rok's neck. Rok removed his second stake from his belt and pierced the unsuspecting vampire's heart. The vamp opened its mouth to release a cry of agony, but all that came out was dust. The vampire stared directly into Rok's eyes with both hatred and sincere appreciation - he looked almost thankful. With that he turned to dust and blew away in the light breeze.*

*Rok walked over to the shack and opened the door very carefully. It was quite dark, so he removed his flashlight from his pocket and shone it inside the shack. Inside was a quaint little room with only a small table, small chair, and a coffin on the floor. There were small piles of books lying about: novels, poetry, and a few fictional books about vampires - and even werewolves. On the table was a small unlit candle, a picture of a woman and two small children, and a small booklet. Rok felt a rush of regret as he looked at the picture. He had just cold-heartedly killed something that had emotions, and was once human just like himself. Rok picked up the booklet and began to read. It was a poety book, no doubt written by the vampire Rok had just slaughtered, and it had the poor creature's whole soul poured into it.*

*The first few poems of the booklet were about how sorry he was to his wife and children about everything he'd done. Rok gathered the man had either done something wrong as a human, or harmed them as a vampire, but it didn't matter. The middle section of the booklet was about how much he wanted to die, or to kill himself, but that he would keep himself alive to bring down this horrible vampiric curse. Rok felt less emotional know that the man did in fact want to die, and that both their aims were the same. It would have been nice to have an ally, especially of the vampire kind, to aid him in bringing down The Council once and for all, but he would find other allies soon enough. He also realised that he would have to be more careful about which vampires he killed, as this one was certainly not one he would have wanted to take out. In fact, it would be better to rather not kill any rogues and only gun for the fat cats from now on. The last section of the booklet was about werewolves and their link in the bigger picture, but Rok couldn't quite decipher it now. He placed the booklet and his flashlight in his pocket and headed out the door. This turn of events made him only more convinced that he had to end this tyranny, and do it as soon as possible.*

---

[Lionhead Pub] [Good Read] [Photobucket]

Rill sat staring at his glass of blood, he had never particularly enjoyed sinking his fangs into peoples necks, it was something to do with his past, before he was bitten, but he never spoke about himself before his change, nor when that was. He's been staring at it for the last 2 hours, trying to digest what it was he had just been told.
    He'd had two pieces of bad news in the space of fifteen minutes, the first and not wholely unexpected piece of news concerned the humsn, apparently, yet again, they had decided to wage war against them, only this time in a more subtle way. Whatever the means, the effect was the same, as he sat staring at his blood hundreds of these vampire hunters were stalking the streets killing his kind. The second piece of bad news had been that the council, the people who were supposed to be protecting the vampire society and way of life, refused to do anything ... They said that one werewolf was not to be worried about, that the prophecies were nothing more than a deluded dream mistaken for prophecy. This had caused Rill concern in itself, but when he relayed the news of the hunters which he recieved in the middle of the council meeting, they had refused to act. They said "We don't know enough about them", "we should just watch them for the time being" and "they aren't a threat to us, what can a few hundred humans do against us". Instead they had decided that they would observe the hunters and see what they were all about and more importantly where they came from.

Klanis

Agent Y sat patiently in the cramped basement, they had thought this would be a lot harder than it was, the Vampires had so grossely overestimated their strengths that they attacked the 9 of them on the streets and had "captured" them. She wondered exactly how bad the Vampire intelligence networks must have become for them to not realise who they were trying to hold captive in their basement. She glanced quickly at the wall clock, she'd been locked down here for 12 hours and was starting to get bored. Nodding to the other 8 agents, that were tied up in the basemen, she made her move.
    The bonds that tied her hands together snapped in an instant and her immense physical strength suddenly became apparent, simultaneously all 8 of the other agents snapped their own bonds. The vampires holding them captive were startled to the point of fear and started running for the door, 6 of them never made it out the door the agents had jumped and for lack of other weapons, simply tore their heads from their bodies, leaving a pile of dust behind that was kicked up by the other vampires running for their lives, filling the room with a choking cloud. Y glanced at the other agents, and then glanced down at all the equipment in the room, she nodded again and one of them set to work with a small device in the corner.
    "Make sure you get the whole building, these things like to keep secrets, look for hidden doors or passages." and with that she burst out of the door. A vampire stood outside, he wasn't scared by the prospect of a human and was about to say as much but as his mouth opened it turned to dust, a chunk of the door clattered to the ground. Y knew she only had 2 minutes to get the other 7 agents out of the building before T detonated his explosives that would not just raise the building to the ground, but engulf it in a fireball so powerful that all that would  be left was a large pile of fresh charcoal and concrete.
    The agents got to a door sealing them into the basement complex, it was locked, Y turned away from the door and then swung around in a violent kick, the door buckled. She repeated this kick again and again until the metal door bent out of shape enough to let them squeeze out. Few would have believed the physical strength that Y possessed and fewer still would be in any state to tell the tale. The 8 agents burst out the front door and into the street, this wasn't going to be subtle, but by god it was going to be fun, 30 seconds after they had got out T came out and they took shelter in an alley across the street.
    Y looked at her watch and then covered her ears, the blast was so loud that it could be heard across the capital in Romford, the ensuing fireball burnt with such ferocity that it brought daylight to the capital at 2 in the morning. T was at his job however and not one of he neighbouring buildings had been harmed, with the exception of a few broken windows. Y picked up her mobile and pressed 9. She only said five words before hanging up "Gas explosion, make it happen" and put the phone back in her pocket. The agents faded into the black as the sound of sir