Chapter 44 – These are the Night's of my Unlife

October 5, 2004 = Tuesday

~Eliza Flores~

With my bike out of commission and no other way of moving long distances, I walked into the alley for a place to shadow-step. Stepping in behind a dumpster, and with no one looking, I stepped to Michele's front door. I could have stepped inside, right back to her inner sanctum, but didn't want to be rude. Pushing the doorbell button, I waited patiently for Remy to answer the door.

She did, half a minute later wearing a pink evening dress with a high collar connected in the front by sheer panels. It flowed like silk, and I wondered why Michele allowed her ghoul to dress so lavishly. Maybe it was payment for ripping her away from her normal life, I thought, almost frowning at the thought of what I had done with my own ghouls and the lack of choices I allowed them to have.

"Mademoiselle Flores," she said, smiling at me. "I was not told to expect you."

"I need to see Michele," I told her, the ghoul's smile becoming a bit forced. "Is she in?"

"We have just returned from a meeting," she said, ushering me inside. "I was in the middle of re-robing her, but I will see if she will see you know."

Remy led me into a parlor to wait until she returned, but I declined the offer to sit. I wasn't in the mood for the social necessities, but I forced myself to be calm and smile politely at the ghoul as she left me alone. With nothing to do, I drifted around the room, my fingers brushing over the ornate grand piano with golden scroll motifs. The lid was raised, and I could see the polished brass pins shine in the pale light.

I moved to the keyboard, finding the ivory keys twinkling in the pale light of the room. With nothing to do, and needing to calm myself anyway, I pulled the bench out and sat down. Raising my hands over the keys, I hit an 'A' chord, allowing my fingers to flow over the keyboard in an arpeggio pattern. Liking the way it sounded, I did it again, switching to a 'C' chord after finishing the 'A' chord before returning to the first chord to do the 'A' and 'C' chords over again.

"I'm so tired of being here," I sang, feeling the pain the song was meant to evoke as I continued to play 'My Immortal' from Evanescence's latest album. It was one of two songs I actually liked on that album, the other being the more popular 'Bring Me To Life' which was used in the blockbuster movie, 'Daredevil.'

The song allowed me to vent some of my frustration, and the piano was so top notch that it seemed to make the song all the more authentic. When I finished playing the last note, I turned to see Michele standing in the entrance in a very opulent crystal-beaded dress in a mermaid layout. She was smiling at me, and moved closer.

"I am glad you can play," she said, as she came to stand by the piano to run a hand over the fancy case it had. "It was a gift, many years ago, from an old friend. He knew of my love for the piano, how I used to love playing when I was still alive."

"Why did you stop?" I asked her, and her smile faded.

"I became kindred," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "We Toreador are artists, but when we partake of the blood, we often lose a part of us. Don't get me wrong, we can still perform, but it lacks a certain aesthetic from when we were alive. What is the saying? I can play the notes, but my soul is not in it?"

"Sounds about right," I said, thinking it had to be a terrible way to spend your eternity. "Does it affect the other clans?"

"It does not seem to," she said, giving me a smile. "Your playing was wonderful to listen to, as is your voice."

"Thank you, Michele," I said, smiling at the compliment.

"So what brings you to Beverly Hills?" she asked me, sitting on a nearby divan.

"I was wondering if you knew an Elizabeth Swan," I said, pulling the list of names from my jacket and handing it to her. "I won the bet that had been made concerning the nightclub Confessions, and it's owner, Venus Dare."

"Ah, such a silly bet," she said, looking over the list. "Nearly ruining a club just to see whom can still influence the kine without their powers. The Ventrue always try to buy their way through while Toreadors offer whatever talent they have under their control if the owner will but sign a contract to make the club as a showcase for what is many times a second rate band."

"Gangrel and Brujah seem to favor violence and threats," I noted, and Michele nodded her head.

"But without their powers, they often find they have little in the way of backing it up," she said, giving voice to her experience.

"So, what about Elizabeth?" I asked, steering our conversation back to the target. "What did she offer?"

"Nothing," she said, and I frowned which prompted Michele to continue on. "Elizabeth was acting as peacekeeper on my orders to get two fellow Toreadors to reconcile before the Anarchs lost another influential member. As payment to one, she took one of his boons, the boon it now seems is owed to you."

"Ah," I said, getting it. "Well, in that case, I won't make it too difficult for her. Do you know where I can find her?"

"She runs a little place not far from the Tremere Chantry," she said and I started to try and map it in my mind. "As with most nights, the 'den mother of the Anarchs' can be found there."

"Den mother?" I asked, not sure if I heard her right. "You mean, Elizabeth Swan is Damsel?"

"Oui," she said, smiling at my shock. "In polite circles, she is referred to by her birth name, but among the Anarchs they use her nom de guerre."

"Her nickname," I thought absently, processing it. Well, if Damsel owed me a boon, maybe I'd just anull it or something. No sense in making an enemy out of a friend.

"War name would be more accurate," she corrected, and I nodded my head.

"Well, since I know where to find her, I don't need you to arrange a meeting between us," I finally said aloud.

"Oui," Michele said, "But I can arrange for you to meet the other Toreadors on the list, and maybe help you find the others. If nothing else, I can let them know that you now possess their boon unless you have something in mind for them to do?"

"Not really," I said, sighing that I didn't know more about the city. "I do need a new place to put a club, preferably in the Santa Monica area."

"I do know a kindred who has a building he is willing to lease," she said thoughtfully. "He had big dreams about breaking into the entertainment industry, but a recent Sabbat raid has destroyed his dreams utterly. He was only able to save one of his girls by ghouling her, but she ran away before she could be commanded to obey."

"Who is he?" I asked, thinking that he could be the key to solving most of my current problems.

"Felix Barker," she said, and my jaw dropped.

"Barker?" I said, stunned at the revelation. "Guess that's why Sugar lost her voice."

"Miss O'Reilly lives with you?"

"Not directly. She works, or worked rather, at my club," I told her, wondering if I was committing some kind of faux pas by helping her.

"I am glad," she told me and I felt relief wash through me. "Felix Barker has hated ghouls ever since I used Remy to lure him closer to me."

"And he fathered Remy's daughter before you turned him," I said, getting the whole picture. "And since he left her to die..." I said aloud, letting my voice trail off as I looked into Michele's eyes.

"Remy harbors a powerful hate for the man," she told me, shaking her head. "She loved her daughter as much as she loves me. If it weren't for my orders being the basis of her life, she would have killed Felix when he resurfaced in New York City."

"Can she do it?" I asked, wondering if a ghoul could stand up to a kindred if particularly motivated. "Can she kill him?"

"She can, even now after many years," she said, surprising me. "She has a taste for celerity which I think she gets from me."

"I take it Barker isn't so quick?"

"Non," she said, giving me a smile. "He might be particularly barbed with his words, but his wits are mired and slow."

"I guess we really do have advantages and disadvantages," I said, remembering Walsh's advice on the matter. "How fast can a person with celerity move?"

"The upper speeds of Celerity defy comprehension," she told me and I raised an eyebrow. "You have seen the old movies of vampires, correct?"

"Yes, but I've been told that a lot of it is bull," I told her and she chuckled. "Gangrel might turn into bats and Ventrue might have the ability to dominate minds, but the rest of it is Hollywood myth."

"Not so, young one," she said, chuckling again. "My sire told me if I lived long enough, one can walk the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel as if they were the floor."

"You mean defy gravity?" I said, appalled.

"It is not so easy to obtain," she said, shaking her head. "Almost all kindred powers are based in normal components. Too be fast with celerity, one must be quick witted. Too gain powers of fortitude, one must not let things bother them."

"And to gain powers of dominate?" I asked her, hoping she would be forthcoming.

"One must expect one's word to be followed," she said, giving me the answer.

"Interesting," I said, nodding my head at the information. "I guess improving oneself as a kindred really does have benefits later."

"Oui, all things come to those who improve themselves," she said, smiling at me. "If you want, I will arrange for Barker to set up a long term lease for the property and you can meet with me tomorrow to sign paperwork."

"Thank you," I said, standing from the piano bench and pushing it back in its spot."I'll head over to Damsel's and meet with her and settle that boon."

"She will enjoy not having to worry over it," Michele assured me as she stood with me. "Do you need to feed again before you leave?"

"It wouldn't hurt," I said, knowing I was about to be using my powers for travel and didn't want to run low and hurt someone. Maybe getting a car wouldn't hurt. At least then my ghouls could handle driving it.

"Remy!" Michele called, and the ghoul hustled into the room in a few moments. "Apporte-moi du sang a boire."

"Oui, madem," she said then left us.

"Mind answering a question?" I said, and she nodded her head. "Why do you not seem to shun my feeding from you like most of the others seem to. Eloise told me that there was something about it that made kindred hate it, but beside diablerie, or what it really is, I don't know."

"Diablerie in and of itself is the problem," she told me. "Drinking from another kindred carries the same problem as the kine drinking from us, but if you drank a kindred past them losing all their blood, not only does it kill them, but it give you their essence and power."

"You mean you can bind a kindred under your blood?" I asked and she nodded gravely.

"It won't work on you, as you are Methuselah, but if you were to make me drink of your blood, I would become, in essence, your ghoul," she told me. "I also know I don't have to worry about you stealing my powers, as your are powerful already, but lesser kindred often diablerize or attempt to diablerize older kindred to gain more power for themselves."

"So, does it work only on your own clan?" I asked and she shook her head.

"If, for instance, I were to diablerize Lacroix I would gain his Ventrue abilities," she said and I was shocked. No wonder Eloise didn't like people letting people near her neck. "If I could distance myself from art long enough, I might even make people believe I were Ventrue."

"So, if someone were to diablerize me, they'd get my powers," I said and she nodded slowly, letting it sink in. It did, and I silently vowed from now on my room's door would be locked from the inside from now on and not even my ghouls would be allowed in. Maybe I should look into a safe room with no doors, just an air vent.

"They also lower their generation if the person they diablerized was of a lower generation," she informed me, pulling me out of my own thoughts. "For example, I could become even more powerful if I were to diablerize you. But because of your extremely low generation, I run the risk of you taking over my body."

"I know what that's like," I said sourly and Michele looked at me with a serious expression. "The reason I'm a Methuselah is that Lasombra tried to rise from the Void through me. Apparently my body 'adjusted' to suit him and his third generation needs, but I've since kicked him out. I'm now a fourth generation kindred."

"Fourth generation?" she said, her mouth agape. "I did not think you had dropped to such a low level."

"Thank Lucian for it," I said bitterly. "It sure does make it hard to feed. I guess if I had come to it naturally, I would have a flock of kindred around me to feed from."

"Possibly," she said, as Remy entered the room with the pitcher of blood. "If you had survived that long."

"There's an expiration date?" I asked her, watching as Remy poured a goblet full and handed to her mistress.

"There comes a time when a kindred either becomes weighted by the world, or loses themselves to the beast," she said, then drank deep from her goblet. "In usual fair, about four or five hundred years is ancient, even to us, though some do become older. Many are killed do to political power struggles, accidents, hunters, or they just lose themselves to their own beast. Many things weigh on our minds in the Final Nights.

"Now, if you are ready to drink?" Michele said, pulling her hair out of the way as she undid the high collar around her neck, allowing the beaded garment to fall forward revealing her chest. She didn't try to cover herself, but leaned her head over to reveal her bare neck.

I moved forward, noting Remy stood still with the tray containing the pitcher of blood and her eyes on the floor, as if she were ashamed to be here. I stepped into Michele's space, taking her in my arms with no space left between us. Michele stared at a spot behind me, and I licked her neck, following her jugular from her collar bone to her jaw. Blowing gently on the now wet spot, Michele gasped at the sensation before groaning in my ear.

Easing my fangs out, I slid them gently into her skin, my bite shallow to savor the heady flavor of her blood across my tongue as I fed. Each pull of her blood into my fangs made her gasp, her body bucking against mine in time with my feeding. I continued to pull on her blood, and her gasps had to be audible to Remy as she seemed to start hyperventilating.

Finally feeling sated, I pulled my fangs from Michele, holding the woman as she regained her bearings. When she finally turned to Remy, she picked the pitcher up with both hands and drank from it, only setting it down after sating herself. Remy never looked up, keeping her head down and silently walking out with the empty pitcher.

"Such an intense feeling," she said as she began to straighten herself and put her high collar around her neck, hiding her bare bosom from view. "It is, maybe, another reason I allow you to feed from neck. It is one of the few feelings of ecstasy a kindred can enjoy."

"I thank you for the meal," I said, smiling at her, feeling the power flowing in my veins.

"You are most welcome," she said, smiling back at me.

"Well, I must go," I said, thinking I had other places to be. I needed to head to Walsh's office and see him and Mueller. I also needed to check in on Yukie, see if she were out of surgery yet but knew that wouldn't likely happen for hours yet, and see my own ghouls and let them know the Sabbat might be around, though I doubted they'd want another taste so soon after a staggering loss.

"Safe travels then," she said, smiling even as I stepped into the shadow and out in Lacroix's tower. I didn't have to worry about people here seeing me, as people here were under the control of kindred and knew about us already.

I used my phone to check the time, finding it was almost five, so I headed straight for his office, but the door was closed. I waited outside for several minutes, finally pulling out my phone again to check the time. After ten minutes of waiting, the door finally opened and a rather voluptuous kine woman in a 19th century dress stepped out, holding a parasol. She gave me a smile and a nod, before sashaying down the hall to the elevator, and I went into the office to find Walsh tying his tie.

"Ah, Miss Flores," he said, putting his golden tie tack in place. "You are just in time."

"I was expecting Herr Mueller to be here," I said as Walsh turned and got his suit coat.

"I'm afraid I couldn't arrange an actual meeting," he said apologetically as he tugged on his coat. "So we're going to crash his business meeting just as they are wrapping up to corral him."

"Sounds like fun," I said, stepping back to let him lead the way. "Where do we have to go to meet him?"

"Up one floor," he said, leading the way back to the elevator. "Many kindred, especially my fellow Ventrue, rent rooms in the tower to either operate their businesses out of or for their personal security."

"Because if you have a business in a high rise, you've arrived," I said acerbically as we waited for the elevator.

"In a sense," he said, buttoning his suit up and straightening his tie. "It also lends credibility to why the boss isn't in, for who can expect a multi-million dollar CEO to not be a bit eccentric."

"Which in turn helps the masquerade," I said, getting a nod of appreciation from Walsh. "And since this is Camarilla headquarters, the Sabbat aren't ever likely to raid here."

"It would be suicide," he assured me. "Only kindred are allowed past this floor unless they are scheduled to be here, so it's very secure."

"And the woman who left your office?" I asked, not wanting to be nosy but wanting to know who the woman was. A smile quirked Walsh's lips, and he gave me a slight chuckle.

"That was Miss Madison," he said with a wry chuckle as we went into the elevator. "As a Ventrue, I have select tastes, but those tastes often reflect the life I led while alive. Unfortunately, since I am what my clan calls low-born, my tastes run in the same way."

"In other words, you enjoyed the floozies spread legs when alive and now you want their blood in death," I surmised for him.

"Correct," he said simply, shaking his bowed head as if in reproach. I didn't get it though, if he had to have their blood to survive, why the shame now?

"We all have our preferences, Walsh," I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder in support. "Don't be ashamed of yours."

"It's why I keep my offices on the bottom floor with the ghouls," he said as the doors opened up. "The fewer people that know when my 'dates' come and go the easier my nights become."

As we stepped out, I noticed there weren't any guards on the elevator doors as there were on other floors. "So no, guards here?" I asked him.

"Only on the bottom most elevator and the entrance to the Prince's office," he assured me. "I don't provide the security here, Herr Mueller does."

"It seems like he has his own army," I noted as we moved down the hall.

"Over a hundred and fifty ghouls," he said with a wry chuckle. "He once told me that if he learned anything of World War Two was that the man with the larger army often wins. So he built his own special forces operation."

"Why not just a general army?" I asked him.

"He has that too, but they don't partake of his blood," he said as we stopped outside a door before he checked his watch. "From what I gather, he takes only the best for his special forces unit and the rest go on to work at his security firm. They provide all sorts of security, and they are considered the best in their field. Now he wants to move into the legitimate mercenary work being provided by the US government."

"And you are trying to get it for yourself?" I said, and again he chuckled.

"I am trying," he said as we waited. "Right now it comes down to a matter of money to grease the gears of bureaucracy, but I can't match him dollar for dollar."

"But if I take all of his money, you can outdo him," I said, getting the whole picture. "I will definitely try."

"And I can finally prove to the clan I can operate as a true leader and not this wet work I get stuck with," he said sourly, just as the door opened and men in suits began to pour out. Some nodded or said their 'hellos' to Walsh as they went by, but most of them gave me a wide berth as they went down the hall. When the last one filed out, Walsh walked into the room. "Herr Mueller, we need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," he groused as I walked in to see him filing his paperwork into a briefcase.

"You placed a boon on a bet and lost," he said, his tone more serious than I've ever heard it. "I'm here to see that you and Miss Flores come to arrangement to settle that boon, tonight."

"She is a Lasombra!" he roared at Walsh, but Walsh let it slide off his back. "I will owe no boons to such common trash."

"You will, Herr Mueller," Walsh said, his voice deepening, "Or you will find yourself at your own trial."

"On what authority," Mueller scoffed at him. "I can buy you a hundred times over, you waste of blood."

"I am still the Scourge," he said, somehow making it a threat as he advanced on Walsh, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a stake to make the threat serious. "You will settle your debt, or under the traditions of Prestation in the Camarilla, I will bring you before the prince for failure to honor your sworn debt."

"It isn't enough to have me killed!" he roared.

"But I can have you expelled from the city in disgrace," Walsh roared back, and shock coated Mueller's face. "After that, no one will accept a boon debt from you, you'll be ruined."

Mueller seemed to deflate at that, before sighing and accepting defeat. "What does she ask?"

"Money," Walsh said simply, softening his voice and stowing away the stake now that the situation was over.

"Of money, I have," he said, smiling.

"Five hundred million," I said, wiping the smile off Mueller's face.

"Fünfhundert Millionen!" he exclaimed in what I assumed was German. "Warum fragt sie nicht einfach nach meinen Herz auf einem Silbertablett!?"

"Because she asks for money, not your heart on a silver platter," Walsh said as he indirectly translated for me.

"That would wipe out my finances, ruin me!" he exclaimed, then his face lit up in understanding. "You put her up to this so you could try to get one over on me!"

"She was asking for money, and only money, ever since she learned she had a boon from you," Walsh said, trying to calm the situation down.

"I will give him one other option to pay," I said, moving forward as Mueller eyed me as if I were a snake. "The next time a primogen calls a vote on whether I should be added to the council or not, you must vote yes."

What followed from Herr Mueller was a violent string of German that made Walsh shake his head grimly. "Your choice, Herr Mueller," he finally said when the irate kindred finally settled down a bit. "Money, or you vote yes. And remember, if I ever hear you failed to vote appropriately, you will be called to Trial."

Mueller stared murder holes into me, before finally pulling out a thin leather checkbook from his inner jacket pocket and wrote out a check, all the while muttering what I figured were unsavory things about me, my mother, and all my ancestors. When he finished writing and tore it from his checkbook, he didn't even hand it to me, just tossed it towards me with anger evident on his face.

"You have made a dire enemy this day, Lasombra," he said, before stomping out the door with the dignity of a mad bull. I held the check, arranged it to be readable, seeing the full five hundred million wrote out to me.

"You can expect no political help from that man for the rest of his days," Walsh said softly, a smile full on his lips. "I've never seen a kindred so agitated."

"Do you think he'll try to have me killed?" I asked, suddenly wondering if I had doomed myself by resolving this debt.

"If he does, either by his own hand or that of his ghouls, just get to me," Walsh said with a smile. "The sixth Tradition means that outside of a blood hunt, any direct attempt by him on your life seals his fate with a Trial."

"But what if he tells hunters where I live?" I asked and Walsh frowned at that. "Does that get included in the Traditions?"

"It can, if the prince allows it," he said and I frowned myself. In other words, I really had to stay in the prince's good graces now or my next move had to be to kill Mueller before he could kill me.

"Well, Scourge Walsh," I said, handing the check to him. "Will you see that this gets deposited into my account?"

"Certainly," he said, taking the check from my hand and putting it into his jacket pocket. "As I am sure you have much to do, and I still have one last thing to do on this floor, I bid you goodnight."

"Good night, Walsh," I said, as he walked out the door.

With nothing left to do, I went back to the elevator, having to wait since it seemed Mueller rode it down. When it came back up, I rode it down to the upper lobby and stepped out. The moment I cleared the doors, a hand snatched my glasses off and I was looking directly into Mueller's eyes.

"You will give me a check for all of your money and say you have invested in my businesses," he said, and I felt something like a wave wash over my brain. Realizing he had just tried to dominate me, I began laughing.

"What is this?" he said, and I finally looked at him.

"Poor fool," I said, then shoved my will into his mind, making his face go slack. "You will walk around this lobby, until sunrise, and cluck like a chicken," I said and he nodded and began to follow my mental command.

"Hey you can't-" one of the guards began to say, when I hit him and pulled his goggles down to look into his eyes. I no sooner had the guard under my will when I heard the safety click off on the other gun.

"Release them," he said, his gun aimed at me. Even though he had tinted goggles on, I pushed my will into him, making him fall under my control.

"You two men will guard this lobby and corral Herr Mueller into staying within it," I said and the nodded their acceptance. "Furthermore, when Walsh comes back you will report that Herr Mueller tried to use dominate to steal back his money, and that I protected myself from attack."

Again the two nodded, and I released them, with the one whose goggles I had dislodged straightening them on his face before they resumed their post. Herr Mueller took no notice of me, just walked by and clucking, and I took the other elevator down while calling for a cab. It wasn't long in getting there, and I rode it home, not wanting to waste any of the blood Michele was feeding me when I had plenty of time to get home.

When I did, I found the house was just waking up for the day. Constance was walking down the stairs, leaving her full backpack by the door. She noticed me and smiled before coming over and give me a big hug.

"Hey, didn't think you'd be home so early," she said after release me.

"Just wrapping things up," I said, my presence somehow pulling Brian and Heather to me now that I was home. Brian had the Uzi tucked into his waste band, and I gave him an approving nod. "Keep that gun handy, Brian. I've already survived one attack on the Sabbat today."

"Wish I had been there," Brian said, fingering the Uzi.

"I could have used you," I told him, wondering how much difference his presence would have made in the fight. A big one, I had to figure, as he would have been armed. Duke and Yukie had started the fight barehanded.

"Anyone hurt?" Heather asked, arms wrapped around her middle as if she were scared.

I hung my head and nodded, making Heather and Constance gasp, though Brian let out a growl of disgust. "Duke over at Four-Play was killed," I told them, "And Yukie was shot twice, one of those in the chest. She's in surgery now."

"Oh my god," Heather said, shrinking back a step. "That poor girl. Will she survive?"

"Yeah," I assured her, moving over to give Heather a hug. "She took my blood a second time, so she'll survive, but the bullet needs to come out so it doesn't do more damage."

"I guess that makes sense," she said, somewhat comforted by what I told her.

"How did the club make out," Brian asked with what seemed like real concern though I knew he was just interested in the girls.

"Total loss," I said, and his face twisted into a growl. "The girls and patrons got out safely, including Angel and Sharron, but the place burned to the ground. I'm going to rebuild, already got a line on a replacement site."

"Can we talk about something happier," Constance said, as we all began to drift into the kitchen where food was being cooked for everyone's breakfast.

"Well, I did increase my bank account by five hundred million dollars," I said to everyone's astonishment.

"What did you do to get that kind of cash?" Brian asked a wicked grin on his face. "What I could do with a percentage of that."

"Made a forever enemy in a fellow kindred," I told him, sobering him up. "And since we can't kill each other, it really is forever."

"That's sad," Heather said, and then a thought occurred to me.

"Oh, hey," I said, getting Heather's attention. "I have to go to a fancy party this Friday night, and was wondering if you could get me something to look nice in."

"You want me to buy it or make it?" Heather asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ladies choice," I said, making her squeal in excitement. "It'll be a high society event, mostly rich humans, so the nicer the better."

"I'll get it sorted it out," she said happily. "Taking any guns with you?"

"No," I said, thinking that if they checked me and found guns, I was still a cooked bird. "I'm going in clean. Nothing on me that could be considered a weapon."

"Alright, I'll get it set up for you," Heather said.

We continued to talk the morning away, and I sat at the table with my ghouls watching them eat. Part of me missed the normalcy of this, and I could only hope that as my life became more simple as time went on, I could enjoy it more.

As the sun came up, though, I bid my ghouls a good day, then headed down stairs and got ready for bed. Leaving my dirty clothes in a basket outside of my door for Heather to clean during the day, I pulled the painting closed and locked the door, sealing myself inside.

I was just about to crawl into bed and allow myself the chance to rest when my phone rang. When I answered it, the background noise was atrocious, but the man's deep voice was clearly hearable.

"Miss Flores?" it asked, and I recognized it as Doctor Brackett.

"Yes, doctor," I said, wondering how Yukie had fared in her accident.

"We just got Miss Arita out of surgery," he said, making me wonder whom he was talking about until I realized it was likely Yukie's last name.

"How is she doing?" I asked, knowing she was likely ready to come home already.

"She's recovering," he said, his voice tired though I couldn't blame him for the lateness of the hour, even for an all night worker. "The bullet just barely nicked the lung and stopped right at the heart sack. A few more millimeters deeper and she'd have bled out before getting to the hospital."

"I'm glad to hear it, Doctor Brackett," I said, smiling to myself that Yukie would survive another near fatal attack. "When will she be released?"

"At least a few days," he told me. "We want to be sure she's not going to have any other problems before we release her."

"I understand, doctor," I said, knowing that in that short amount of time Yukie would be almost fully healed. "I'll be by later to see her for myself, probably in the evening so she can get some rest."

"That'd be for the best," he said, and I could hear a voice calling for him. "I gotta go, thanks for being there for your friend."

"You welcome, doctor," I told him, and the line went dead.

Placing the phone on my dresser, I lay out in my bed, and allowed the darkness to have me.

Author's Note: And so we have another chapter. Glad to have it out so fast, and I can only hope the trend continues.

Love it, hate it, want me to burn and die? I won't know if you don't review!

*looks at what I have for the next chapter, begins digging a grave*

Here Lies

Raider Wolf

Born-1984

Death-?

I can haz your soul?

Edit: 5/20/2018 - Fixed some mistakes. Thanks to Darkladyvanstar, DuckedHard, and Doctor Winter for the help and the concern on the German language.