CHAPTER 2

OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN

NEAR LOS SANTOS

The black Luxor cruised peacefully over the Pacific Ocean, its path veiling the terror and fear of the occupants within. The pilot sat behind the controls in the cockpit, frozen in terror, unable to bring himself to look at the dead copilot - slumped back in the seat, his chest torn open as if by a set of massive claws.

In the passenger cabin, three of the four occupants lay unmoving, the interior of the passenger jet painted with their blood. The fourth, a middle-aged blonde woman in a suit splattered with gore, huddled on the floor, trembling and whimpering, staring in abject terror at the monster which paced the cabin patiently.

Finally, the pilot's shaken voice entered the cabin. "W-w-we're one mile out, m-ma'am," he stammered. Jezebelle Marcus' pacing stopped, and she smiled before turning toward the cockpit.

"Good. I suppose you'll want to be given that mercy I promised you," Jezebelle said, and even though she did not raise his voice, the pilot heard it. He dared not infuriate the monster by daring to ask 'I beg your pardon?'

"Y-yes please, ma'am," the pilot said, terrified, and Jezebelle entered the cockpit. Looking out at the city of Los Santos in the distance, she put a clawed hand on the pilot's shoulder.

"No need for courtesy, mortal. You won't need it where you're going."

"B-b-but you promised to be merciful-"

"This is mercy, compared to what I could do to you," Jezebelle said, cutting the pilot off mid-sentence, then sank her fangs into the pilot's neck.

A minute later, the Luxor slammed into the waters off Vespucci Beach.

-x-

Police and media choppers circled the search vessels floating in the waters where the Luxor had crashed, while a crowd had gathered at the end of Del Perro Pier to watch the spectacle. Nearby, within the old arcade that had been long since opened to the public, Jezebelle slipped into her new set of clothes - a tank top, short shorts and a pair of flip-flops. Her old clothes, stained with blood, had been discarded.

The kindly donor of Jezebelle's new set of clothes, now stripped naked, sat in a corner. Jezebelle pulled the girl's car keys from her pocket and looked at them. "What's your car's plates?" The girl wasted no time giving up the details. "Good. Now you stay put, and I'll be back in a few minutes. And remember..." Jezebelle knelt down in front of the girl and put a hand on her cheek. "If you leave before I get back or try to signal for help, I will know, and I will find and gut you before leaving you to bleed to death."

-x-

The following night came, and with it the hunger. Jezebelle rose from her daysleep, her brief torpor, and climbed from her bed before heading out to the loungeroom. A brief flick through the channels revealed that Los Santos television was just as boring and drudgerous as it was throughout the rest of the country. Turning off the television, she turned and walked into the guest room.

The lights came on to reveal that the girl had not left the room - not would she have been able to even if she wanted. Her wrists and ankles fastened to the four corners of the bed, a sack covered her head. Walking over, she removed the sack before doing the same of the tape covering her mouth and eyes.

"Please! I'll do whatever you want! Please, just let me go!" the girl pleaded. Jezebelle, unconcerned with the petty mortal's fear, realised that she did not know the girl's name.

"Shhh, quiet now. What is your name?"

"Sandra."

"Good, Sandra. Now, I'm going to let you go, but only if you swear to me that you owe me your life and that you will pay that debt by serving me for the rest of your nights." Sandra shook her head vigorously, and Jezebelle smiled before bringing her wrist up to her mouth. A trickle of blood began to flow from where her fangs pierced the flesh of her wrist, then she put her wrist against Sandra's lips. Sandra tried to pull her head away, but one word from Jezebelle - "drink" - and the girl complied.

Sandra was, for the first few seconds, visibly disgusted... then the sweet nectar of Jezebelle's undead blood changed her mind. She began to drink it eagerly, the deathly power of the blood bestowing immortality upon the girl as Jezebelle willed it upon her.

Then, after that moment of bliss that the blood brought, Jezebelle pulled her wrist away as the bite closed. "You are now mine, Sandra."