Larten brushed his thick ginger hair out of his eyes, running his fingers through the silky feel and grunting from the guilt of not finding the time to cut it, and let it grow this long, so long that it would obscure his vision in battle. This still was not the time for a hair-cut - he was involved in something far more important than the concerns of an uncomfortable feeling. Being one of the leading Generals, Larten Crepsley was only entrusted with the missions that had to succeed, whatever the cost. This was one of those missions, but it had its own perils, perils not only involving the entire Vampire Clan, but Larten's entire bloodline.
This mission involved the Vampaneze, the Vampire's eternal enemy, and normally the Vampires let the Vampaneze do as they wished with the humans, not wanting to interfere, in the fear that a war would spark and the humans' presence would be drawn to them. This case was different, though, this Vampaneze was up to something, he had a purpose, a method to his madness. From town to town, all in a linear style, and with all the same circumstances of death. The victims were drained of blood, but not from the neck - as was customary with most Vampaneze - all their blood was drained from the chest, directly from the heart.
Larten had suspected that these killings were for some higher purpose, rather than just a renegade Vampaneze General going around killing the various people it came across. Larten suspected that it was a mere ploy, and that it was being made to look like just that, a renegade General. Except, the Vampaneze were doing nothing to stop him, which was unusual, because both clans feared the humans discovering their presence, and wiping them off the face of the Earth. And then there was the feeling, the feeling of worry, of fear. And so, based on a couple of basic theories and a gut-instinct, he brought it forward to the Vampire Princes, fortunately they did let him pursue this mission, but, unfortunately they did not give him any aid in the mission until he had discovered some more concrete reasoning for them to deploy their much needed Vampire forces to assist him.
And so, the Vampire General was sitting here, atop a large building that stretched towards the sky near the centre of the city. He had devised from the linear style of the Vampaneze's journey that he would arrive here, to kill whoever it was he had chosen, or hadn't - depending on whatever this crazed individual was up to.
Soon, Larten would capture this man, and find out what was plaguing his mind, and confirm if he was correct in his instinct. It seemed that the Vampire's wish would soon come true, as he spotted his first clue; a man walking with his hat held low and a large coat drawn over him, but no shoes. Most Vampire and Vampaneze did not wear shoes, in case they needed to flit quickly away. If this was an ordinary human being, he would be wearing shoes, to acompany his other winter clothing.
Crepsley dropped to the ground, landing on all fours, and even though he was a Vampire, and his body was made for big jumps, he wasn't expecting the terrible sensation that the fall brough with it. He quickly shookit off, afraid he'd draw attention to himself from his suspect. The man he was following still had not noticed his presence, and was walking calmly, but with blatant purpose. Larten quickly drew the knife that was tied to his belt, hidden beneath his leather jacket.
He quickly darted forward, wrapping his hand around the Vampaneze's jacket and thrusting him into the street wall, feeling the brick crack beneath the pressure. Larten held the knife up to the man's throat, after quickly flicking the hat off his head and staring at his dark, purple face.
"What are you up to?" Larten demanded, the Vampaneze didn't bother answering, he grabbed the knife the vampire was holding and plunged it into his throat, mouthing the word; "Loyalty" to the aging Vampire.
Loyalty, loyalty was what possessed this Vampaneze to kill himself, in the hope that whatever he was up to would not be discovered, but this General couldn't do anything about it, and he doubted it would be awhile before he picked up another lead. He realized this as the light slowly faded from the maniac's eyes.