Madman is embraced by Grout the local antadeluvian (elder vampire) of the malkavian (insane Vampires) clan. The thing is written in the universe of Vampire the masquerade bloodlines. Prelude to how Jack got the explosives.
I don't care about the copyright will not be taken alive, and I swear to show not even deathbed repentance.
„Do you know?" Asked a voice clouded by darkness. "Your death is about to be changed." My eyes focussed on the sole crack in the ceiling, the only crack in the entire room, the place the voice came from. "Capital, another change I won't be needing to care about!" I exclaimed laughing. "How does one know what comes after death?" The voice asked. "Nothing comes after, otherwise you wouldn't know, if you were dead, logic." "The logic of a madman! Keep it to yourself!" "Shut up, you are a crack in a ceiling, I am not taking criticism from damage! You have done nothing good in your life except ruin things! And you defile this great white work of art! The heaven I can reach!" I exclaimed angrily, this was an outrage I was after all a British Lord. Although I was not very sure why, they locked me up in this white walled cell, because they deemed me unfit for society. This was how people treated their parliament nowadays. "Are you sure he would be sufficient, dear?" Asked a mans voice coming down the hallway. A female voice answered in the tone one would strike if talking to a lover. "You would be very wrong to say he was anything but completely, and utterly mad. In the classic sense of course. Not very violent, except when he feels threatened." I walked up to my barred cell door. "Have you been sent by the queen perhaps? Those American mongrels monger hatred between the US and UK by keeping me locked up! I have to re-establish the opium trade!" I yelled while I hoped to be freed by those strangers with probably kind intentions. "You hear what I mean don't you? Subject 12 Adam Peterson." The female said proudly. "Esquire!" I corrected in the direction of the voices, nobody could properly use a title nowadays… "Delusions of grandeur, schizophrenia, and last but not least complete lack of knowledge about his insane condition." "How very interesting would you kindly lend him to me my sweet slave?" The man asked in feign affection. "I abolished slavery!" I jelled. "Well helped abolish it! What is the meaning of this?" I yelled, clearly slave owners were not to be trusted, after all this was illegal, and beyond that the British empire would get them for there crimes, sooner or later. "Please take him of my hands, he is irreversibly mad, not even hard drugs seem to much help in treating his condition." The woman said with despise in her voice. "Not a matter I don't really want to treat him anyhow." The man said sounding like he was smiling with satisfaction. The two arrived before the cell door. "Hello Adam! How are you?" The slave owner asked. "How am I? I would have to be mad to enjoy this situation, you dysfunctional dystopian derelict! How am I supposed to be surrounded by slave owners, madmen, and ceiling cracks who won't ever shut up! Also it is Adam Peterson Esquire to you Yankee!" I yelled all while shaking the cell door to make a point. "Now there Adam," he said dismissing his slave with a wave of the hand "I am not here to hurt you-" "He is!" The ceiling crack yelled. "The ceiling crack said otherwise." I interrupted him savouring the moment as his face twitched, he obviously felt caught. "Really? Well not hurt in a literal sense then. More like destroy, and make anew… A curious transformation that transcends the terribly torn mind you are bound in, and could if you prove able grant you freedom." The world suddenly felt like a celluloid film burning through, instead of the slave owning Yankee I saw seconds before, I could see faces all over his body. Each of them yelling, and screaming urging me to run. "Dear god what are you?" I said backing away from the monstrosity. "I am a vampire of course. But tell me for the sake of conversation what do you think I am?" He asked still wearing his satisfied smile, moving a bit forward while the cries of the faces on his body grew steadily louder unlike anything I ever heard before. "A bloody mutated mutilated monster from hell!" I shouted, as I jumped back and hit the wall. "An accurate description, I must admit. I feed on the blood of others. That does make me quite the monster. But again for the sake of the conversation you can call me Grout." He said bowing. "Ceiling crack help me!" I shouted looking up hoping for salvation. "You won't be getting any help from me! I don't have limbs! What are you crazy?" It said. "That's what I get for sharing my food with you, you fucking coward!" I yelled back at it. My legs were shoving backwards trying to get the hell away from what I perceived as certain death. Grout pulled out a key from his pocket, something his slave must have given him, I thought, shivering at the sound of him opening the door, the creaking of the hinges, joining their screams with the voices of the faces all over Grouts body. "Are you scared Adam?" He asked lifting me up by the collar with ease. I screamed kicked, and fought to the best of my ability, seemingly he only saw this as an annoyance, and slammed me into the wall. That took any fight that I had left out of me. I had trouble breathing, and coughed up what tasted like blood. Grout smelled my breath savouring it. "You look deliciously helpless the way you are dangling there, like a Christmas turkey on display. I couldn't afford it as a child, but it is so nice being able to make up for it by draining you." After saying that he lifted up my head exposing my throat, and slammed his fangs into my artery. The most disturbing thing was it wasn't the worst feeling I could imagine like it should have been, instead it felt like a calming slumber coming over me. I felt my heart slow, and my head drain of thought, for the first time in years I was really calm. And then I died.
Spam, Lame, Woot, Flame, Comments are the name of the game.