City of Angels

Los Angeles. The dark and dangerous city that I call home. Perhaps if I would have been born somewhere else, I would never have Awakened as I have. Perhaps there would have been an easier transition. Perhaps I would not have been as cautious as I was that night. There is no way to know.

This city of Angels is my own on a night like this. A night so much like that one, twelve years ago.

I was a child then, not even old enough to drive. I'd grown up in the ghetto of the city, aware of the dangers that lurked in the shadows, yet confident that those shadows would never do more than darken my path. I'd stayed out too late, doing things that I thought I was old enough to do. But regret isn't the point of my story today.

One of those shadows reached out and pulled me into an alley from the side-street that I was walking on. It was so dark. Those hands were so cold. When I turned around to get away, the moonlight seemed to shift to illuminate my captor's face.

He was so beautiful, but so deadly. His lips broke into a smirk and I felt myself relaxing, drawn to him. He tilted my head to one side and I felt a pinch on the side of my neck. After that, all I remember was repositioning my hands to hold his beautiful face and to brace myself for something that felt wonderful.

Then I blacked out for a while.

When I next returned to consciousness, he was lying on the ground in the alley next to me. His pale skin had been drained of life. He looked as though he had died there, but the body looked like it had been given 100 years to rot. Skin loosely draped over bone. It really was surreal.

The most disturbing part of it all, though, was the fact that I wasn't at all bothered by it. I sat there and admired the scene for a good ten minutes before I began to collect my senses. No sooner than my brain began to function again and I had put into consideration all that had happened, two men entered the alley. I would have expected that they were a part of the local criminal element, but that wasn't right. They were both dressed far too nicely for any of that. One looked behind him, as though checking for witnesses, and then pointed at the body of the man that had started all of this. With a snap of his fingers, the body caught afire, reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds. The other reached a hand out, gesturing a handshake to me. As I reached forward and took his hand, he smiled. "My name is Maximillian, and this is my brother, Thomas."

Maximillian and Thomas Strauss, two brothers, as I later learned. They told me a lot of things that night. They told me that I wasn't normal, I had a lot of talent, loads of potential, and that I was to be taken care of in my education. They allowed me to visit my mother on a weekly basis, provided I didn't tell her anything more than what she 'needed to know.' I visited her until she passed away five years later.

School had been something that I never gave thought to. I showed up when I felt like it, just enough to keep my mother out of trouble with the school. They knew just as well as she that I wasn't going to finish. The teachers tried for years to get me to simply pay attention and 'get serious' about my education. Who needed the education when there was so much more to learn in the streets?

How ironic it was that I never missed a minute of class after that night. The brothers moved me into an apartment complex that they owned, provided me food, shelter, and so much more--only contingent on the condition that I attended school and never spoke of them.

Fair enough, I reasoned. They knew something that I didn't, and a few hours out of my day going to school meant that I didn't have to do things I hated to get dinner. There was also the added bonus that they taught me more about the forces that drove the world after school was out. They taught me how to be what I was: a mage.

Latent powers that I did not even realize I had were now at my command. The vampire in the alley had been a fluke, they reasoned, but it was a testament to my abilities for what I did.

Oh yeah, vampires. Werewolves, mages, the whole lot, right out of a science fiction movie. At least that's what I thought. Together the two brothers explained to me about the forces that moved our world that I never even knew about.

Over time I learned much from both of them and much about them. After a while, I began to notice that apart from their appearance and affinity for magic, the two brothers were literally as different as night and day. Thomas was, in general, happier. His eyes and face reflected a gentle warmth and love of life that Maximillian altogether lacked. Max was cold, blunt, and as I eventually deduced, a vampire.

When first I inquired about the fact, he denied completely and told me that I was wrong. Eventually he gave in, but refused to tell me any more about his nature. 'There was only one way to find out,' he had whispered into my ear, 'and that's a way that my dearest brother wishes to prevent.'

It wasn't until six years after he had said that, nearly ten years since I had met the brothers, two years and two months ago today, that I realized the full weight of those words. Since they had 'adopted' me, a rift had begun between the two. It seemed that both fancied me as their apprentice. I can still hear their argument echo in my ears as though they were still having it.

'You will not curse her as you have the others! You cannot have her, Max, I simply will not allow it!'

'How dare you speak back to me in such a way?! Have you forgotten the debt you owe me?'

'Do not involve her in this. I know what happens to them, Max. I know how you think you need a new childer every so many years, and how after a few more, you tire of them and feed them to the wolves of your organization.'

'The chantry is growing stagnant. We need new blood to keep it alive.'

'You always say that, Max. It's always the same. Just let her live as she wishes, let her make the choice.'

'And what mortal would not choose this? All it takes is a few well placed words, suggestions, and--'

'When you make your 'suggestions' I know what you're doing. That's not a choice.' Thomas hesitated, the argument tiring him more by the minute. 'Besides, what's to say that she wouldn't react and fry you like she did that Toreador?'

'He snuck up on her, did not tell her what was happening, and besides, that was an accident, her abilities awakening.'

I moved to look into the room, just in time to hear what was to be Thomas's last words.

'Max, don't let her go the way that Samantha did.'

Something about that phrase, the mention of the name 'Samantha' was enough to drive Maximillian over the edge. I rushed in to try to stop the raging demon of the night and to save Thomas from him. To date, I still don't know what I expected to be able to do, as what happened was not something that I'd planned on at all.

When I ran in, I moved between the two brothers. I caught Thomas with one hand and placed the other on Maximillian's chest. I felt raw energy draw into my fingertips. It burned to the touch, but I couldn't let go. My heart raced in my chest, it felt like it was going to explode. My vision blurred and finally my knees gave out. All three of us fell to the floor at once.

Unlike the incident ten years prior, I did not black out. My vision blurred, my right eye stung as though someone had splashed acid into it.

Instinctively, I set Thomas down, hearing Maximillian standing from where he'd landed. His eyes flashed a dangerous red and his fangs flashed dangerously. I knew in this moment exactly how much of a monster this scholar, my teacher, truly was.

He summoned balls of flame from his hands as he rushed to me. Before I knew what had happened, he pinned me to a wall, holding my hands with his own against the wall. I felt my own power well up within myself and again my hands burned. I could see color draining from Maximillian's face and eyes. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. He finally dropped me, staggering backwards.

Thank God, I thought, I didn't kill him.

He seemed to be back in control of himself now. He crawled over to Thomas and checked for his brother's vital signs. I could see the bruising on Thomas's cheek. I could see how pale the mortal brother was. His eyes were wide open, yet lifeless.

I heard Maximillian whispering to himself, denying his own evaluation of the situation. He flipped Thomas over briefly and then began cursing under his breath. For a moment, I held out a hope that I hadn't done what my heart knew had happened.

Then he looked up at me. In that instance, I knew that my hopes had been too much and that Thomas was dead. Somehow in my over-exertion of power, I had drained him of his life. Maximillian stared at me for a few moments and then began shaking his head in disbelief. 'Get out! Monster! Diabolist! Leave at once!!'

I wasn't sure what he meant at the time, but as it was later explained to me, somehow not only had I drained the very life force from Thomas, but his soul as well. That was something that had been understood to be a vampiric ability only. I guess I am an anomaly.

So I left the chantry. I visited from time to time after Maximillian had taken the time to calm down. He had rescinded his interest in having me as an apprentice. He humored me by letting me visit, but often ended our visits with harsh words.

I still don't know if it's because he hasn't forgiven me or himself for what happened to Thomas.

Later I took the time to check into a hotel and clean myself up. The hotel attendant gave me a funny look when I checked in, which I understood when I saw my own reflection. My right eye, which had previously been chocolate brown, was now bright blue. And not only my eye had changed, but also my hair. My naturally black locks had gone grey, except for a select few strands that remained natural. My skin had gone considerately paler and I now looked like I'd been yanked straight out of some Japanese anime. I later learned to (somewhat) remedy this with hats and sunglasses. No amount of hair dye would return my hair to normal.

A year after that day I found myself standing in the graveyard where they buried Thomas. I'd developed an affinity for the night, watching out for the Sleepers around me. Perhaps it was the changes that had happened to me that night, perhaps it was guilt.

At any rate, it was another night of a full moon and all I could do was stare at the tombstone and cry. So involved with my own grief was I, that I didn't hear her approach me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and then a gentle woman's voice behind me, "What is wrong, child?"

I turned to look at her. My left eye saw her given appearance, a 30 something with long brown hair and a warm smile. My right eye, though, saw a gaunt, rotted face with piercing blue eyes. The fleshy hand on my shoulder, as seen through my right eye, was little more than a skeleton's hand.

Knowing in that moment that she wasn't going to harm me, I began telling her my story. I left out the names, even though it would not be difficult to deduce that the grave I stood before was that of the man whom I had killed.

She nodded and paid rapt attention throughout my tale. She did not directly make motion to comfort me, but something about the way she listened took a weight off of my shoulders. She then introduced herself as Dominae. She explained that like my previous teacher, she too was a creature of the night. She did not explain much more in depth about her own abilities, much the same as Maximillian had been secretive about his own.

When I asked if she was of the same clan or sect as he was, she simply shook her head and laughed. She told me that she was much like myself. An anomaly existing on her own terms, alone and then not. After a bit more discussion, she finally inquired about my name.

I felt guilty immediately that I had not introduced myself, but had told her so much of my own life. Alicia, which had been my given name, was no longer mine, I felt. I had renamed myself the day I watched Thomas's casket drop into the ground.

"Merle. I am Merle."

Friends, but not friends, Dominae and I are. She visits me from time to time, always interested in how my abilities are progressing, especially if it involves a fight with another supernatural. I'm fairly certain that she speaks to me out of morbid curiosity. She seems especially interested in death, which is something that I now see plenty of.

Last week, she asked me to do my best to follow some 'friends' of hers. There are four of them, fierce and beautiful monsters of the night. They leave a trail of death and destruction wherever they go. No wonder she wanted me to watch them.

So, Los Angeles, what should I do about that?

A.N. Well, that's my first attempt at a narrative. The character concept is for one of the NPCs in a table-top game that I currently run for some of my friends. I haven't decided quite yet the extent or frequency that Merle will appear. She's a favorite of mine, and I'd hate to see her find a foul end at the hands of a Sabbat pack...

Though I never came out and said it in the narrative, the idea is that Merle is a Euthanatos mage. She has separated herself completely from other mages, maintaining a distinct interest in the undead she sees in the city. Also, the city is the very same as the one shown in Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines PC game. Maximillian Strauss is the Tremere primogen that you encounter as a quest giver.