Chapter 21 – Paging Doctor Grout

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

I no more entered the main gate when the front door opened. I thought for a minute Grout might have decided to come out and this would be easy but it was Nines who stepped out. Well, that's a surprise.

"Hey, Nines," I called out, hoping to have a word with the Anarch who walked towards me. "What's up?"

"You, what are you doing here?" he said, his voice sounding off, a little high pitched and...scared?

"Looking into Grout's disappearance. Did you find him?"

"Look, you should get out of here. This place is bad news, pardon me" he said as he walked by me and out the front gate. I went to follow him, and to find out what was going on, but he had vanished.

"Huh," I said aloud, then turned and headed inside, where it was brightly lit and my headache went up a notch.

The front doors were unlocked, and the first thing I noticed was the woman huddled in the corner crying. She was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt with some kind of face mask that barely allowed her to see with fine mesh over the mouth piece. I went over to check on her when she noticed me. She quickly rose to her feet, pulling a kitchen knife from her back and charged at me. I didn't have time to reach for my pistol, so I jumped back as she slashed, then punched her in the face.

'Bad idea!" I screamed mentally, as I nursed my injured hand. The mask was some kind of hard plastic that protected her as much as inhibited her, and the woman charged at me again, barely knocked back by my attack. With nothing else to do, I caught her knife hand, and we fell back at the force of her attack. I reached for the shadows, and formed a tentacle around her neck to strangle her. The woman started to buck and kick but I held on to her knife hand to avoid getting cut. Soon, she quit struggling and went limp and the tentacle dissolved into nothing. I took the knife from her, throwing it across the room and got up. She wasn't breathing, so I let her lie.

'Damn ghouls. They really do protect their masters,' I thought, looking her over. 'Now, did she try to kill me because I'm here without her master's permission? Or is there something wrong?'

I didn't get a chance to ponder that before the interior doors burst open to reveal a guy in a leather gimp outfit and mask. My hand was already reaching for my pistol as the ghoul took in the situation, giving me a half second to get the pistol into my hands and somewhat aimed before he charged me. I let fly with the bullets, but the ghoul took eight before falling to the tiled floor. I kept my gun trained on the door, waiting for more to show up. Two more ghouls burst through the door, and I began firing more in panic than surety, putting rounds in both of them. After a few minutes when nothing more came through the door, I pulled a full clip of bullets from my coat pocket and reloaded the gun, dropping the empty clip before slamming the full clip home. I used my left hand to pick up the empty clip, stowing it back in my pocket.

Putting both hands back on my pistol, I started to advance through the house. The second set of doors opened up on a long hall that dead ended in sitting area. I walked back to the first door, which was on the right, but it was locked by some kind of drop arm that secured to both handles. With one more hall, to check, I let it be and went back to the hallway that was on my left, finding it was blocked by couches and chairs and one unlit lamp in a makeshift barricade. I tugged a few pieces off the top, nearly getting caught in the avalanche of furniture as it fell around me.

With the barricade down, I continued down the hallway, finding another locked door on my right before coming into a two story library with a large open center. At the back was a ghoul playing with some lights, making them go off and on as he pulled something. I was halfway through the library before I realized he was pulling the light bracket itself, turning them off and on in some bizarre sequence.

Then he noticed me. He spun to face me, already beginning his charge, and I took a moment to aim putting three into his chest which dropped the ghoul at my feet. I guess I was going to have to start shooting every ghoul I came across if they were all going to be hostile to me. I glanced around, then decided that this was some sort of puzzle that unlocked that one door. Grout really was insane, for his own security. Most people would assume that he had some sort of hidden door, but his own ghoul had betrayed him on this one.

Looking at the area, again, I figured maybe the tape recorder might hold the answer. So I switched it on to hear a deep voice start talking in a slightly British accent.

"Another unfortunate casualty to tide of time: Insane Asylums. I lament their loss not only as brokerage houses for the breadth and depth of human psychoses, but also I shall mourn the disappearance of that peculiar environment present only in an insane asylum. That palpable atmosphere of blistered brains and churning bowels, the odiferous melange of freely flowing bodily humours, that gently rolling cacophony of distant sobs and screams, the muttered cursing of perceived enemies and the blissful gurgling of the lobotomized. Like a new-born babe discovering the sky. I shall still find test subjects as surely as I find bloody sustenance in the night but this climate, I fear, may never be replicated."

As the tape finished, I was sure the doctor was insane. Well read, very articulate, but if he loved the atmosphere of the insane asylum where people were abused, mistreated, and often where the sane were driven insane, he was nuttier than pecan pie.

Finding no help in the musings of the good doctor, I continued my search for something to help me out. I did find a note on the table.

'Perception at once shapes the Mind and rules over Time. Time however, erodes human Perception and then in turn warps the Mind. The Mind is capricious, having various effects on Perception, Time, and the Mind itself...With harmony, progress is made.'

Well, that wasn't much help. And I hate riddles. So Mind, Time and Perception? I looked at the light brackets, each one had a small button emblem at the bottom of the bracket. An Egyptian symbol for Ra which was for Perception, an hourglass emblem for Time, and a symbol for a brain I took for Mind. Well, now I all I had left was to pull the right one. Thinking over the riddle again, I went to the far right one with the brain symbol on it and pulled it. With nothing noticeable happening, I pulled it again and heard a large bong go off far to my left.

Taking that as a sign, I began walking back to the way I came and found another tape recorder. Needing a moment to reload and restock my gun, I hit play while I reloaded.

"It is quite peculiar the happenings I've been made to witness from my supernatural longevity. I'm thinking of one unfortunate phenomenon in particular of unique interest to my station, both as a professional and as a sufferer of this Vampiric condition. It seems the stream of time has begun to erode the moorings of my chosen course of study, for the methodologies that gave birth to psychology are slowly disappearing. I find myself in an era that overlooks the physical component of psychological pathology, time and again in favor of the sophistic practices of Freud. Phrenology, Dactopindalism, and the rest of the old guard is fallen by the wayside, its champions all silenced in death with my unique exception. Would that I could make my voice heard again, although it may be suspicious should I return to popular medical discourse fifty years after my apparent death.

"No, better that I continue my studies into the psychosis in secret. One day I may hold up my own cure as validation of the methods. I am confident no cure for my condition, or that of my beloved wife, lies within our figurative minds, waiting to be unlocked by the correct combination of memories recovered from our childhoods. And I'm most certain that it has nothing to do with the relationship between myself, my parents, and my genitals. Sorry, Sigmund, but I choose to stay my course. In time, too, may your star fade and disappear."

I couldn't help but listen to the tape in its entirety. Insane he might be becoming, but he was trying to find a cure. Well, good luck doctor, because they haven't found a cure for being dead. I had a fully loaded gun now, and all my clips were reloaded from the box of ammo from my bag. I went back down the hall, back to the hall where I came in. I checked the other door, finding the bars were now gone and it was open.

There were four ghouls in this room, one of them a male. I took a steadying breath, then went in the room, and put one right into his brain, dropping him. The other three began to charge me, and I moved my sights to the closest. My first shots went into her chest, and it took four to drop her. The second was over halfway through the room, making a mad dash straight for me. I started firing before I was even sure of my shots, too intent to stop her before she reached me.

Unfortunately, it took the better part of the clip before she fell, which left only a round or two in the pistol. The last ghoul came right over the couch in a single bound, and my last shot caught her right as she tackled me. I threw her off me, as quick as I could, while I rolled the opposite way. I dropped the pistol, raising a hand to summon my shadows but the ghoul stayed in a ball where she fell. I picked the pistol up, reloading while I kept an eye on her, then inched forward to nudge her over with my foot.

The ghoul was dead, having landed on the knife when she tackled me. Lowering the pistol, I checked the doors, not finding one that was unlocked. I did find another candlelight holder, though this one lacked any identifier. Giving it a tug, I heard a loud creak above me. Going to the foot of the stairs, I looked up to see an opening where one wasn't before. I went up the stairs, finding another ghoul waiting for me. I put two in her head, dropping her before she could do anything.

I looked around, finding another tape recorder and paused to listen to it. Any clue the doctor may have left behind might hold the answer to where he was hidden, whether here or elsewhere, and I couldn't afford the time it would take to come back through the maze this house was turning into.

"Often I reflect with great regret on the missed opportunity that was my infector. Had I been conscious after the attack, I could have stopped the orderlies from locking her in the roaming pen. What I would give for just one interview, a few simple questions of the plague ridden woman who met her end that dawn.

"Of course there is no guarantee she would have been any more helpful than my current crop of test subjects - Mewling wretches! Few could be called 'enthusiastic' - Given the nature of the tests, I cannot expect the same fervor from all, but a modicum of cooperation would be appreciated. Animals. The one called 'John' went so far as to gnaw off his arm and escape into the floorboards like some feral rodent. I still hear him scurrying about at night, he must be making an atrocious mess in there."

Well, hopefully John passed some time ago, or I was going to play exterminator and get rid of a rodent infestation. I continued on, going down some stairs and found a corpse laid out on a couch. I also found another tape recorder and listened to it.

"My studies proceed at a languid pace. I'm mired in a foul ennui as my wife's illness advances. My subjects grow restless without proper supervision, but I cannot pull myself back from this black depression. How many nights I've wasted now, gazing from the tower walk, pondering the frailty of existence."

Well, still no help, but I was beginning to put a picture of Grout's life together. The great illness of life was old age, and if Grout didn't know how to turn her, she would have died of old age, or been succumbing to it. As she needed more and more care, Grout's work suffered. So how long ago was this? Psychoanalysis was an early twentieth century psychological study, falling out of favor for other fields of study as Grout earlier attested, but was still used by most psychologists in one on one practice. Hence the couch most psyche doctors still used.

I wondered if the picture I saw on a nearby table was supposed to be his wife, but doubted I'd find that answer. There was no timeline here. These tape recorders were primitive, maybe early thirties or forties. Not that I'm an expert, but it was that kind of ancient technology I was seeing. Even a nearby light switch wasn't a standard plastic flip type I was familiar with, but a small metal one I had seen once in my nana's house which had been built in during the Civil War by my great-great grandpa.

There was nowhere left to go, but up the spiral staircase, so I began climbing. The door at the top led out on a walkway between the two turrets of the house. I was also now on the roof, on top of a hill, and the view was spectacular. I could see downtown LA, with Lacroix tower well lit up. I paused to take in the view, letting my headache ease, before I went through the other door and down the spiral staircase there.

It led me to another ghoul, and I popped her in the back of a head before she even moved. I knew she'd attack, just like every other ghoul and test subject had, and I wasn't going to risk missing. The floor kept sloping down, curving back on itself and dropping down again. I had to be back on the ground floor by now. I came out on a green-lit room that had two more ghouls in it. I put a bullet in one's head before she moved, and the other began charging me. I locked on to her and dropped her with three to her chest.

I paused, switching clips, then checked the room. The door on the left was barred like the one with the staircase in it, and finding nothing to get me through it, went to check on the two doors opposite. They led back to the staircase room I had been at earlier. This whole house was turning into a maze, and that left me wondering if Grout was the prize at the center. Well with one more door to check, I went through it, made a sharp left and opened that door to find two ghouls waiting on me.

I quickly backpedaled through the door emptying the clip into the pair as I went, finally dropping both. I reloaded, then pushed on into a sitting area with a fireplace and a tape recorder. I hit play, hoping it had some clue where I needed to go.

"After decades of solitary study into this affliction, I have learned that it is by no means mine alone. Indeed, this city is home to an entire society of similarly afflicted individuals with whom I've only recently made contact. They are an understandably standoffish sort, by and large, but I have been able to confirm with them that the condition is indeed vampirism, which apparently comes in a multitude of strains, each with a spectacular set of symptoms such as invisibility and even a sort of lycanthropy.

"Through numerous official interactions with the governing body of this secret society, I have concluded that their fundamental understanding of the vampiric condition is woefully lacking and mired in suspicion and pseudo-religious dogma that would make a Turk balk for its strictures. Indeed, they seemed impressed with my studies and the eloquence with which I was able to present them. Apparently the typical sufferer of my particular strain of vampirism is far from the vanguard of the King's English. So impressed were they that they even offered me an office in their government, a rather high office, by the sound of things. I believe I shall accept. If nothing else, it should provide a lofty vantage point from which to observe the breadth and epidemiology of the affliction so that I may move more expeditiously toward a cure."

"Lot of help you are, doctor," I muttered, as I sat in one of the chairs. King's English? That could have meant any time before the fifties. The old broad was still reigning, so he had to have been raised in England before then. It made him older than Jean, whoever she was supposed to be, and an interesting case. So he made contact with the local Camarilla, which meant he had to have been locked away since the sixties, or earlier. That made his puzzles more interesting, so I got up and inspected the room I was in. The answer was here, somewhere, and as I looked into a mirror, nearly had a panic attack.

Two ghouls stood watching me, and I quickly turned and raised my pistol, but nothing was there. I looked back into the mirror, seeing them clearly. Lowering the pistol, I looked into the mirror, and saw a perfect copy of the room. Everything was identical, chairs, table, wallpaper. Even the tape recorder on the…

I looked again, the tape recorder sat on my side, but on the other side the table sat empty. I went back to the fireplace, checking for switches, finally finding a soft button like piece of wood and pressed it which caused the center of the fireplace to lift up. I dropped to a knee, and fired at the ghouls on the other side, killing both as they tried to get at me. Once through, I went through the door and followed the hall around to a staircase. It led me back to the library, though I was now on the second floor of it.

I went left, checking out some of the bookshelves as I went, though I was almost to the rear before I found a problem with one of the bookcases. Most of the books displayed were in a series. But this one bookcase had a one-off oddity. A Webster's Dictionary. With all of the other technical journals and scientific thesis on display, why a dictionary?

I pulled on it, it budged only slightly, and a loud creaking came from underneath me. I leaned over the railing to see a bookcase had swung out. Clever, that must have been his expedient path to getting around, rather than say the light brackets hung not ten feet away next to the tape recorder? I went over and hit play, hoping for more information.

"I have accepted the role of 'Primogen' for clan 'Malkavian', the dreadfully winsome label applied to the particular strain of vampirism I suffer. So named for some supposed vampire father figure of old. More poppycock grown from a backwood culture that seems interminably drawn to childrens' tales and the fiction of Victorian romance when it should concern itself with the science behind their suffering. No matter, for I have taken this office for no greater reason than the advancement of my research.

"I must make mention however that even among my would-be peers in this governing body of vampires, the level of paranoia and superstition is frightening! Their intelligence is not the question, no, indeed, as they courted me for this appointment, I had to suspect that their overtures were hand-tailored for what must be my obvious infatuation with reason, for the devil would do well to have such honey-tongued tempters. Even so, I could not help but notice the dressing of language these vampire leaders chose for their siren song. Whether it is born of habit, from addressing their unwashed, ill-educated subjects or from their own deep-seated beliefs, their linguistic flourishes belie a faith in superstition over the providence of empirical reason that must be an all-pervasive theme in this society of darkest night. Damn it all now, I'm doing it, too"

"Congratulations, doctor," I said, as I continued on after listening to the tape. With the next passageway open, I didn't need to fool with the puzzle, but just dropped over the side to land stealthily on my feet. I went through the passage behind the bookcase, down some stone stairs and found myself in some kind electrical room. Giant rods hung from the ceiling and arced electricity into electrodes on the wall. One guy seemed to have already fried getting through and his chest had scorch marks gouged in it.

I looked around, knowing there had to be a way through without becoming fried kindred, and found a switch marked closed and open, with the lever on closed. My basic science came back, and I remembered that closed is how you properly mark a completed electrical circuit. I flipped it to open, and the energy quit arcing through two electrodes. I carefully inched my way under the now dead electrode, and through to the other side, hitting the switch there into the open position. More electrodes were now dead, and I went to go open the switch when my foot nearly twisted underneath me from something I stepped on. I looked down, finding a large toothlike thing under my heels.

I picked it up, to see it was a large fang wrapped in a leather string. I could feel a soothing effect on the panic within, and decided it was probably mystical in origin, and tucked it away in my bag. On the other side, I opened that switch, and the electricity quit arcing beside me. I went to the next one, just stepping over to the platform and opened that circuit. That killed the power at the exit, and with that one open, I headed out the passage to the exit, finding one more switch. I flipped that lever, and heard a gong come from the stairwell room again.

I took the passage ahead, coming back out near the ruined barricade. To my right I could see the library, so I went left and back to the room with the stairwell. The door beside it was now open, so I went through, and found myself facing an odd shaped door with what looked like dentist chairs in it. To the right was a freezer door. Or maybe it was a cooler? Either way, a large metal door with a locked handle.

To my immediate right was an operating theater with several ghoul inside who were ripping the wooden slats off the door in an attempt to get out. I calmly raised my pistol, shooting one right in the eye. He was thrown aside as another ghoul took his place and I shot her right between the eyes. She was again replaced by another gimp suited ghoul, and my shot seperated his ear from his head. With a roar, he broke the last board as he charged me. I put two in his head, and three in the chest of the woman who followed. One last one darted out, moving fast in a zig-zag pattern. I tried to get a bead on him, but he always seemed one step ahead of my bullets.

Finally, with one last lunge, he tackled me to the floor just as the gun clicked empty. He was strong, but I used my potence to wrestle him him over onto his back. He wriggled around, trying to break my stronger grip, but I kept him somewhat pinned as I let go his left arm and grabbed him by the chin. With a rough wrench of my arm, I snapped his neck, feeling more than hearing the bones crack throughout my body.

Rolling his corpse off of me, I picked up my pistol and reloaded not only gun, but the empty clips I carried. How many ghouls did this guy have? And were they all ghouls? They might just be insane people who escaped their cells. But what cells? I hadn't seen any holding rooms at all.

I turned right, where the ghouls had come from and checked there, finding nothing but a key marked cooler. I took it, and went back to the cooler beside the dentist chairs and found the key unlocked the cooler. Inside, there were boxes upon boxes marked perishable. I opened one, finding it was full of blood bags from a blood bank. I immediately drank one, needing the red stuff as I was starting to get hungry. I then took five more, stashing them in my bag.

I went back out, finding another tape recorder sitting by the wall near the staircase leading down. I hit play, and listened to Doctor Grout's message.

"As I expand my dealings with the vampire government, I have encountered a disturbing new symptom of this affliction. Frequently, in conversation, I will hear voices emanating from other vampires. Voices that are not their own but which seem to have insight into their lives beyond what I could gather from simple conversation. These voices seem to echo from deep within my fellow vampires and I cannot be certain if this symptom belongs to my strain of illness or theirs, for the voices are various and inconsistent. I dare not mention this symptom to my vampiric peers, for they have proven themselves true predators to whom I could be loathe to reveal any sign of weakness. Indeed, these voices have counciled me against confessing their presence and until I can confirm their source, I will listen. The information the voices have given me ranges from curious to frightening. The latter is especially true of one powerful vampire whose name I shall not commit to recording in the interests of self preservation."

I thought about his words, then hit rewind on the tape. I listened to it again, paying particular attention to what was and wasn't being said. What became clear to me, was one of the kindred Grout met with was particularly powerful, and he was beginning to develop his inner voice Damsel had told me about. I hit rewind one more time, this time taking the tape off the recorder and slipping it into my bag. I didn't know what to do with it yet, but the good doctor deserved some kind of justification if I could prove his case.

I took the staircase down, where it seemed to drop a few stories under the house. I was just beginning to wonder if Grout had holed up down here when I came upon a set of doors. I opened them to a pair of ghouls. I raised my pistol, killing the one before he could do more than notice me. The other ghoul charged, and I put four in her chest, felling her to the floor.

Three more came around the corner, and I began to empty the clip into the mass of ghouls, barely dropping the last before another two came around the corner. I backpedaled like crazy, dropping the pistol and reaching for the shotgun under my arm. I didn't even unclip it, just yanked the gun into a ready position and fired blind. The first shot, took the ghoul right in the stomach, doubling him over to create a stumbling block for the other one. I racheted the mechanism, blasting the other ghoul in the head before racheting the mechanism again and finishing the first ghoul off.

I took a moment, waiting for more ghouls to appear. When none did, I took a few shotgun shells from my bag, and reloaded the shotgun until it was full loaded. I also unclipped it from the chord which still kept it anchored to my shoulder and folded out the stock. I went back to where I had dropped my pistol, picking it up and reloading it before stashing it with the safety off on my belt. I continued to follow the maze, though the doors I was now finding were the familiar style of an insane asylum with heavily reinforced doors and padded interiors.

I came around a corner, finding three more ghouls. I aimed at the first, putting a round of buck shot right into his chest, knocking him off his feet. The other two started to charge, and I began to zero in on them, putting two shots a piece into them, dropping both mid charge. I paused, reloading the shotgun, and continued on. I eventually entered some kind of concrete bunker style area, with an elevator shaft-like thing going back up to the main floors. Various beams blocked the shaft, creating a sort of ladder to the upper areas.

I folded the stock back up, slinging back on its chord under my shoulder, and started climbing the beams up the vertical shaft. It took a bit to climb to the top of the shaft, seeming to be over three stories of back and forth across the beams. When I got close to the top, one of the ghouls jumped from the top and landed on my back and wrapped his arms around me. I instinctively threw my arms up, breaking his hold on me which caused the ghoul to fall backwards down the shaft. I quickly grabbed the beam in front of me, and looked down.

The ghoul wasn't so fortunate, having hit his head on a beam on the way down and breaking his neck. Whether or not he was dead was moot, he wasn't able to bother me anymore. I continued climbing up, finally making into a large room. One of Grout's tape recorders sat on a nearby table, I sat in a chair, and gave it a listen.

"The voices have increased in frequency and direction of late. They have begun to stay with me long after conversation has ceased and are serving as quite a distraction. I fear others are beginning to notice my preoccupation at the vampire gatherings. I am thinking again of the particular vampire of whom I spoke of previously, who I dare not name for my growing fear. If the voices are to be believed, then my caution is warranted, for they speak of his blackest crimes both past and future. More than once I have seen the suspicion in his eyes and heard the distrust in his voice when speaking with me! The fear must register on my face for it is all I can do in these moments to keep from crying out in chorus with the voices!"

What Herr Mueller said about Doctor Grout acting odd came back to me. I took the tape and put it in my bag, then I pulled out my pistol, going through the doors and immediately found another tape recorder. I took a seat and hit play, and got just a bit more info on Grout.

"I am no longer safe - I know it! The voices have proven themselves authentic, and I have withdrawn from the vampire society entirely. My absence will no doubt draw attention, but I could no longer hold my fragile composure around the ravenous eyes of my vampire peers, especially not around him! The voices compelled me to make what I fear is a Faustian bargain. But I had to, for their demands are constant and merciless. I have secluded myself within the mansion. I know he will strike out at me. He will go to any length to achieve his ambitions, and he knows that I know!

I have taken precautions to protect my beloved wife. A cure will have to wait until our immediate safety is guaranteed. The mansion was constructed with security in mind, but at that time I was not privy to the full range of vampire capabilities! The voices echo in the twisted corridors of my psyche, dark whisperings of a macabre and formless menace, the approach of which portends an end, an end to all of this!"

I immediately pulled that tape, too, making sure I had the evidence that Grout was running from something, or someone. I still didn't know whom to take it to, yet. The Camarilla was a time bomb, with whomever this person was ready to intercept my good intentions and silence me. That thought really creeped me out. There were two I'd take for being nice at first, but secretly being evil. Lacroix, and Strauss. Lacroix was an easy pick because he was the man in charge, but Strauss? I really figured he was the one ready to upstage Lacroix if he was given the chance. Why else would he want me as a Primogen?

Neither point much mattered, unless I found Grout. I really hoped to find him alive, but that seemed doubtful at this point. I got up, held my pistol in both hands and headed through the door at the top of the stairs. What I found was a trophy room of sorts, or more aptly put, a mourning room. In the center of the room were the remains of Doctor Grout's wife. Around the room were memento's of their years together. I carefully walked around the room, going to the far side and finding the door their locked by dropbars.

Okay, it's the last piece of the puzzle. I looked back to the Missus Grout, seeing her with her arms wide and head back, almost like she's dancing. Dancing? My eyes fell on the old phonograph player by the entryway. Simplistic, but effective. I went to the phonograph, flipping the switch and hearing the old brass band come to life as it played. The mechanism under Missus Grout activated, turning her to face me. Once she faced me, the music ended and the draw bars on the far door lifted, unlocking it.

I went to the door, opening to find a bedroom. I cast my eyes on the bed, hoping to find Doctor Grout but nearly cried in frustration as I found the skeletal remains chained to the bed, a stake through the ribcage, and a pile of ash under the skeleton. Beside the bed was another tape recorder, and I wearily sat on the bed and hit play.

"My night has come. I realize that this will be my last message to she who has been sent. Take heart childe, for your nights will be many, but they come with a price. Your dark forebear has noticed you, and in his footsteps will you be protected when the time comes that you are to be hunted and killed as I have. I wish now that I had embraced these voices as the portrayers of truth they are, but that is of little consequence now. Report my death immediately, for only then will you discover the truth about the puppeteers behind your recent tasks, and the risks that lie for you ahead.

"Beware little one, for the nights are filled with savage predators who hide their true selves behind genteel manners and smiling faces. There are few the voices tell me to trust, and only one person in this city who doesn't have an ulterior motive for either of us. Find her, trust her. She can no longer help me, but she can help you. Miss Monroe..."

The tape cut off mid-sentence, the last thing I could hear was something in the background like slapping flesh, and I figured that was when he was staked. I took that tape too, needing to find out more about how my forebear walked so I could survive what Grout called my own hunt. That was uncomfortable to think about, but he said I could survive it if I walked like my dark forebear. I thought about it for a bit, then wondered who Miss Monroe could be. Surely he wasn't talking about Marilyn…

Damn! Marilyn Monroe? How could I be so blind. Of course, you don't expect to run into a living legend or have one drop by your apartment dressed in casual clothes, but to not see her after she revealed practically everything about herself? Oh, I was so blind.

I was shaken out of my reverie when an explosion shook the mansion underneath me and the ceiling fell in on the mourning room. With only one door left, I burst through to find myself overlooking the staircase room which was among my first finds. On the opposite side, on a balcony type overlook, was a large shouldered man who looked like he meant business.

"Grout! Lay low and be cleansed by the flames!" he yelled across to me.

A second explosion shook the mansion, and fired poured through room below us, making me back up a step in fear. "Grout's dead! Who are you!"

"Grout is dead! Pity it wasn't by my hand! No matter, soon your self-made kings and false prophets and all who bear the mark of the beast will be washed from the earth, for the coming of the Lord!"

"Hey, wait! I'm a Catholic! And I have done nothing to warrant this kind of condemnation!"

"Babble your tongue in the pits of the abyss! I will not hear it anymore!"

"But..." I started to say, but the guy cut me off.

"As you burn, tell them it was Grunfield Bach who sent your damned soul to that lake of fire! All agents of Satan shall return from whence they came!" He started to run, as the fire started to spread through the attic, causing the ceiling to fall. "Let this righteous display serve as a promise to all who serve the archfiend Lacroix! I'm coming for you, Lacroix! By the power of the Lord, I will cleanse your black soul!"

I looked the fire pit of a room over, it was going south fast in here, and I could feel my beast start to freak out. I shoved it down, then looked at the balcony on the far side. I didn't know where it led, but it had to lead out of here. It was time to figure out just how strong I was.

Lunging forward, I surged over the railing and landed on my feet. I didn't waste any time trying to fight the fire, just dodged the burning debris and headed across the room to the balcony on the other side. As I got close, I used my potence to strengthen my muscles and jumped up, managing to cling to the railing and hauling myself over to collapse on the floor. Another explosion shook the house, and I rolled to my feet, taking off after Bach with my pistol in my hand. I passed a few dead ghouls, my beast relaxing a bit as the fire hadn't spread here yet.

I followed the corridor around the corner just as another explosion rocked the floor underneath me. I looked back to see that the hall was engulfed in flames. At the end of the hall I took the first door on the right, finding myself in a spare bedroom. The window overlooking Downtown Los Angeles never looked so inviting, and I quickly opened the window, scrambled out and jumped to the ground below.

Some guy in a brown leather duster sat astride a motorcycle, as he tried to make the thing start. He didn't even notice me as I approached, but he had the same look as Bach. Vampire Hunters. Had to be. Well, the prey should have kept his guard up as I approached and pulled my pistol from its holster and bashed in the back of the guys head with the grip. He fell over, and I re-holstered my gun and used my strength to right the bike. I looked over the fuel system, finding the off switch for the fuel flow. As normal with rookies it was off, so I turned it on and sat on it. I held the clutch as I hit the starter switch, and the motor roared into life. Needing to get out of here before the neighbors up the hill called the cops, I tapped the transmission pedal down and let off the clutch slowly, and started trying to figure out how to ride a bike all over again. Maybe it would have been easier if I had driven one instead of having ridden one with my ex-boyfriend.

Because I was out of my element here. In more ways than one.