Isaac didn't like intruders.

Not by humans, not by vampires and certainly not by Sabbat.

So you could imagine his mood when he heard a member of the Sabbat was hiding out in Hollywood. On HIS property. He quickly sent his servants to take care of it. No need to get his hands dirty. That was... until he got a rather interesting phone call.

Problem's taken care of, Chief

"Excellent. Why don't you come over and give me the details in person?"

About that... there is one thing...

"What?" Isaac said, his voice not gaining volume, but still making very clear he was not pleased with this.

Well, seems like whoever it was had a pet.

"Pet?"

A Ghoul. He's in pretty bad shape. Not to mention completely nuts. Probably overdosed.

"Don't do anything, I'll be there shortly." Isaac said, getting up and getting his trenchcoat. This seemed like a matter he should attend personally.

The house was a wreck. Of course it was. The Sabbat didn't really care for decorating. Isaac pulled up his nose as he entered, two of his associates were waiting for him, one who was nursing something that looked very much like a bite wound on his shoulder.

"Where is he?" Isaac asked.

"In the basement." The uninjured man asked. "You sure you want to go in alone? He's taken a fair chunk out of Steve."

"He BIT me! The son of a bitch BIT me!" Steve shouted, holding a piece of fabric against his bleeding neck. "It fucking hurt!"

"Please grow some thicker skin, you've had worse." Isaac scoffed, before he entered the basement area. "I'll call when I require assistance." He walked down the stairs into the darkness until he reached a metal door. He opened it, his eyes gaining an unnatural glow as he let his senses grow stronger and scanned the room. It was small, with concrete walls. No windows. The stench coming from it was horrible, and he didn't even want to name everything that stained the walls. A rustle of chains caught his attention as he turned towards the sound.

A tall man, dressed in rags, his black hair long and unkempt and with yellow eyes wide with hunger sat hunched in one of the corners.

"So you're the one that's gotten them spooked." Isaac said, taking a few careful steps closer as the Ghoul suddenly jumped out at him, but being stopped by a metal collar around his neck that was attached to the wall. Isaac frowned. The wretched creature looked emaciated, driven mad by either too much vampire blood in his system or just pure mistreatment by his sadistic master, or both. It most likely had the mental capacity of a rabid dog by this point. And probably had to be put down like one.

Yet... there was something inside that told Isaac he should spare this... this wreck of a person. Give it a chance.

"Damn Toreador roots." Isaac muttered, before approaching the Ghoul, who had the chain around his neck pulled taunt in an attempt to get to him. He had to be careful. In an unnaturally swift movement, Isaac released the chain from the wall, as the Ghoul charged. Just as fast, he stepped aside and planted his elbow in the creature's neck with enough force to knock it out.

"Sir?" Steve called, having rushed down once the commotion started.

"Restrain him and get him to my home." Isaac ordered, straightening his tie.

"Isn't it better to just, y'know... Off him?" Steve asked. "Would be better for everyone involved."

"I'll be the one to see to that when the time comes." Isaac said. "However, that time's not now. I like a gamble every now and then, and who knows? This might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

The first few nights were a disaster. The new environment of a normal, if not slightly small bedroom seemed to cause quite an amount of shock and unease in the Ghoul and whoever was sent in came back with a myriad of wounds. However, after a while, he seemed to calm down. However, he still hadn't talked and his behavioral patterns stayed quite animalistic.

This was when Isaac decided to make his move. Bringing along a plate of food, he entered the trashed room. As before, the Ghoul sat hunched in a corner. This time, however, he made no moves to attack. He had taken the blanket off his bed and slung it around his shoulders as he sat there, eyes wide as he looked up at Isaac.

"Figured out that we're not going to hurt you?" He asked. No answer, just those eyes staring at him. He wondered if the Ghoul would ever talk. "Here." Isaac said, placing down the plate and sliding it towards the other man, who looked over the contents. Some bread. A bowl of soup and a beaker of water. Carefully, he took the bowl of soup and started to drink from it, before downing it in a few gulps. "You like that, huh?" Isaac said, smiling slightly. He placed some drops of his own blood in the soup, even if it was just a precaution that he wouldn't be attacked. Still, at this point, the man had FAR too much vampire blood in him, so he had to be careful. After having eaten, the other man looked at him again, his eyes slightly clearer as he looked up at Isaac. There was gratitude in that look. They were making progress.

A few more nights passed, as slowly, but surely, the man calmed down and started acting more and more human. Still, he seemed to have lost his ability to talk completely. That was, until Isaac visited him with some food one night.

"Good evening." He said to the man, who now took refuge on the bed, mostly. He was given some better clothes and had finally started to fill out a bit. He was still thin, but at least he looked healthy. He took the tray and nodded, before eating as Isaac watched. After he was finished he looked at Isaac, his mouth struggling to form words.

"W-who...?" The man managed.

"The name's Isaac, pleased to meet you." Isaac told him. "May I ask what your name is?" This stumped the man, as he scrunched his face in deep taught.
"I... don't... know..." Amnesia. Of course. Well, at least he wasn't a complete mute as Isaac figured. He got up and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, who now just looked confused and apologetic, the small doses of Isaac's blood in his system doing their job.

"Don't strain yourself, you'll find out eventually." He told the man. "You're making progress. Just hold on to that."

After that, things were going fast. The very next night, the man started inquiring about the situation and Isaac decided to just be open about it.

"Vampires?" The Ghoul asked. "I was being held captive by vampires?" He seemed confused. "And... you're a vampire too?"

"Yes. We're not all allied with each other. In fact, conflict between us can become quite heated." Isaac explained. "He was a member of the Sabbat. They believe humans to be beneath them. Probably why you were kept like that. For sick, twisted amusement."

"Just my luck, huh?" The man said as Isaac grinned. These flashes of personality besides 'deer caught in the headlights' were always good. However, he soon became serious again.

"I have to ask again. Do you remember anything from before your captivity?"

"Nothing." The Ghoul said, frowning. "Nor from during it. Just... pain and blood. And this incredible thirst."

"He made you ingest some of his blood. Vampire blood is incredibly addictive and dangerous when taken in too large quantities." Isaac explained. "Not to mention it creates a powerful bond between the vampire and it's recipient. You pretty much become their property."

"Sounds awful. Almost glad I don't remember a thing of that time." The man answered. There was a short silence. "So... where do we go from here?"

"That's up to you. While I don't intend to just... throw you out on the street, I can't take care of you forever. Either you go your own way, or start making yourself useful."

"That's an easy choice." The man said, as he looked up at Isaac with nothing short of adoration. "You've given me my life back. It's only fair if I repay in kind." He bowed his head. "I will do whatever you wish from me."

"Let's treat this as any other employer and employee relation, shall we?" Isaac asked. He knew full well that the man before him was affected by his blood. No need to make it more difficult for him. "In any case, I'm feeling this will work out for the better for the both of us."

"First things first. You need a name." Isaac said the next night. By this point neither of them had any hopes of retrieving the man's real name. "And perhaps some new clothes. Definitely a haircut. If you want to be my Ghoul, you'll have to look presentable, at least."

"You got any ideas?" The Ghoul asked, as they walked through Isaac's estate. It was his first time out of his room, and he looked around with much interest.

"Plenty of ideas, but I think it's better if you think of one yourself. I don't want to start of the wrong foot and give you no agency." Isaac said. The Ghoul stopped by one of the many movie posters Isaac had hanging around. Dawn of the Dead. One of his prouder accomplishments, even if horror wasn't quite his forte.

"How does Romero sound?" The Ghoul asked. Isaac chuckled.

"Not bad. It's distinct without sounding ridiculous and got a nice ring to it. Just be prepared to have everyone and their mother make zombie references." Isaac said. The Ghoul just blinked. "Never mind. That was probably before your time." Isaac said, as he saw Romero wander around the room some more, stopping at a prop revolver that was displayed. His brow creased as he looked at it. "Does that trigger something?" Isaac asked.

"Could I...?" Romero asked, as Isaac nodded and opened the glass case the revolver was in.

"Careful with that, tough. That's an antique prop and it has quite the sentimental value." Isaac said as Romero took it and spun it around in his hand quite aptly before aiming it at nothing in particular. It was quite clear he had some skills with it.

"Does that trigger anything?" Isaac asked, seeing how this might be a hint at the man's identity. Romero just frowned.

"It feels... familiar. But... well, like you said, this is a prop. It doesn't exactly feel right to me. It's missing some weight. Even without firing it's obvious it wasn't used to actually shoot someone." He said.

"You know your stuff." Isaac said. "How about we head for the shooting range and see if all that knowledge translates to actual gunmanship?"

It did. At a private shooting range Isaac owned, Romero was demonstrating he was very skilled at shooting. He was most adept with older guns, hinting at his age, but he could also handle modern ones. He seemed to prefer rifles and dislike anything rapid-firing.

"Marksmanship is an art." Romero said when Isaac asked. "These newfangled machine guns make it too easy. Not everyone should be able to fire a gun and do damage with it." Isaac laughed.

"You and me both. But unfortunately, times have changed." His expression turned serious. "Times have changed a lot."

"You don't like it?"
"What can I say? Even without aging, I can feel myself grow older. More weary. Faces come and go... The life we live is not a pleasant one and I can't guarantee you will live long." Isaac lamented.

"I've lived through hell. I'm not going to give up so soon after having escaped from that." Romero told him, holstering his gun. "I may not know who I am, but I don't want that to stop me from leading a fulfilling life."

Romero didn't take long to be 'integrated' into the World of Darkness. He seemed to be a joyful, outgoing man, if not a bit of a flirt around basically everyone. His needs were simple, he was easily satisfied and was always ready for anything you threw at him. A great employee.

Now if he wouldn't make the wrong kind of friends, that would make things perfect.

Isaac usually didn't concern himself with matters personally, but when Romero didn't answer his call, he felt he had to take a look. Zombies, of all things started coming out of the graveyard and while Romero didn't have any issues with them, it was a worrisome situation and when he didn't answer calls, Isaac decided to pay him a visit.

Knocking at the door, he was almost immediately answered.

"Hey, boss. How's it going?" Romero asked, a little unsure. "You usually don't come out here."

"You weren't answering my calls and I got worried." Isaac answered, before noticing Romero didn't look like his usual self. His blouse was put on hastily and his hair in disarray. And not just from a hard night's work, either. And he could hear shuffling in the small shack, even if Romero was standing right in front of him. "Romero, do you have a visitor?" Isaac asked, raising his eyebrow. He knew Romero was a flirt, but to do this on duty...

"Kinda... But not for that. Not entirely. See, he helped me out on several occasions with getting equipment and he was still here when the zombies came out and helped out with that to and afterwards we were both kinda tired so... well, there's a bed right there." Isaac just pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Just… at least give me a name. If you let them help with your job, I doubt they're ignorant of what you are. And in that case I'd like to know who they are as well."
"The name's Mercurio." Came from behind as the man stepped forward, still halfway in his jacket. Even without the rushed putting on of clothes, he looked a bit unkempt. "I, ah, work for some of the folks Downtown."

"'Some of the folks Downtown'." Isaac repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You have to do better than that." This put Mercurio on edge. "Who's your Master?" Isaac demanded, being fully aware the person in front of him was a Ghoul.

"Uhm, it's LaCroix." Mercurio said, scratching the back of his head, looking down. LaCroix. The recently instated Camarilla Prince…. "But I swear, that has nothing to do with why I'm here!" Mercurio immediately started afterward. "I just provide Romero with the needed equipment for his job. Things got heated during the exchange and afterward, well... Romero got heated as well." I just stared him down. "I ain't no spy or anything. Trust me."

"I can vouch for him." Romero piped up, as I just stared him into silence, as well. Crossing my arms, I came to a decision.

"I'll let you off the hook, for now. This isn't exactly a position where I want someone to be low on supplies or…. morale. But if I catch you doing anything I don't like...Well, I think you've already realized there's a lot more bodies than graves around here." I looked him square in the eyes, bringing my presence down on him. It seemed to do the trick as he swallowed hard. "Did I make myself clear?"
"Crystal clear, Sir." Mercurio answered. "So, uhm… I better leave… Bye." And with that, he rushed off.

"You didn't have to do that…" Romero carefully tried. "I know the guy, he wouldn't pull a stunt like spying on us…"

"But his Master would." Isaac started. "And a Master has full control. It doesn't help that LaCroix is known to put his Domination skills to good use. Whether he wants to or not, Mercurio is a threat to us." Romero just looked down, obviously conflicted.

"What will you do when he returns?" He eventually asked.

"Nothing for the moment. He supplies you with weapons and what appears to be morale and I'm not going to take that away, seeing how these zombies aren't going anywhere. But if he starts acting suspicious…"
"I get it." Romero answered, still looking down. Isaac just sighed.

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?" He eventually asked.

"What can I say? Things get rough with this job sometimes and he… he seems to get that too. He just has the rotten luck of having a bastard for a Master. Not that he can voice it, but I just know LaCroix puts him through the wringer." Romero sighed. "Not all of us are as lucky…"
"Don't get too attached. If he ends up spying on us, even if it's against his will, I will put an end to him. That's usually your job, but I'll consider your feelings for him."
"Thanks, Sir… Means a lot. It truly does." Romero answered.

"Just don't sleep on the job again." Isaac said before leaving. This was an… interesting turn of events.

If he still could, Isaac would have taken out the champagne. LaCroix, the Camarilla 'Prince' and eyesore on the Free State was gone. Dispatched in quite the spectacular manner. True, this and several other factors caused quite the stir around town and it might turn into a headache later, but for now, he was pleased with the results.

A knock on his door and quickly after, Romero entered, looking… worried. Extremely worried.

"You really shouldn't leave your post. More than just zombies might start spilling into Hollywood and we need all hands on deck."

"About that… Someone came at my doorstep and I think you might want to know…" Romero said.

"Can't this wait?" Isaac told him.

"Not really, no. In fact it's… kinda urgent, Sir." Romero insisted. Isaac looked him in the eyes and saw how serious he was. Sighing, he conceded as the two headed to Romero's shack at the graveyard. Entering, he knew exactly what was going on.

Mercurio.

The other Ghoul down on the bed, looking quite a bit worse for wear, curled up clutching what looked like a stomach wound that very likely would've killed him by now if he were human. He was still hanging on, though. I sighed, as I didn't have to guess what was being asked of me.

"No." I told Romero.

"But… I haven't even…."
"I know what you're going to ask. The answer is still 'no'." I insisted. This set off desperation.

"Please. You have to… I don't know if he'll make it through the night like this…."

"And you think I care?" I harshly told him. I had to. It was true. I didn't care for some Brooklyn gangster with ties to the Camarilla. I could see him scrambling for ideas, for things to say but coming up short. A rather pained noise came from the wounded Ghoul on the bed.

"Romero…" He managed.

"Hush. You shouldn't be talking." Romero answered softly, instantly at the other's side.

"Like that will make a difference… I'm done for." Mercurio said. "Not that I give the Reaper the pleasure of just giving in."

"You're not done for. You've made it through worse."

"Did I? I'm without a Master. There's a Blood Hunt on my head and I'm fucking bleeding out all over the bedsheets." A pained grunt. "And there's no knight in black armor to save me this time around…"

"Don't talk like that, just don't…" Romero grasped Mercurio's hand, placing it against his forehead.

"Come on. Buck up. I probably ain't the first person that died on ya." A careful smile. "Just… stick around till the end. Please? I don't want to do this alone." Romero just nodded. The whole scene made my unbeating heart ache… Goddamnit.

"Damn Toreador roots…" I muttered to myself, stepping forward. "Stand aside." I ordered Romero, who hesitantly complied. "Both of you, DON'T make me regret this." I said, rolling up my sleeve. "Who knows? This might be the start of a beautiful friendship."