Author's note: All characters are MINE. While the ideas came solely from White-wolf I
did not steal the characters...;;. I 'lub' the characters ::sweatdrop:: Anyhow, this is NOT a
sexual story, it was rated like it was because of violence. While the characters are gay, there is
really nothing to be offended about. Still e.e if you're one of those people that get upset by
homosexuality, I guess you shouldn't read this.

Two more things X_x this story is somewhat old so it may not be my best...and while I tried to keep everything true as V:tM was written...some things may have been changed for the stories sake.

okamanootoko@aol.com

"This is how, it begins. Push it away but it all comes back again. All the flesh, all the sin.
There was a time when it used to mean just about everything. Just like now"-Nine Inch Nails



In a deep nook of the seemingly deserted mansion, mumbling resonated through the
floor that was a ceiling for the basement. It grew slowly, from an inaudible whisper to an
incessant chant, drilling through the cracks of the concrete and stirring the restless spirits that
abided there in. A match was struck against the side of a box, and a small tiny flame flickered to
life, lighting the owner's hand as he touched the flame to several candles, pausing only long
enough for the wick to catch flame. He continued his rhythm of words as he lit the sixteen
candles, the words translated from Latin to English as if he had known the words his whole life.
A few ribbons of long jet-black hair fell in front of the man's cold dark brown eyes as the
flames dance on their wicks, in the shape of a star, with their master at the very center.
He was a small man; standing up straight he would be more than 5'7" tall, with a small
chiseled face with hollow cheekbones and dark circles underneath his eyes void of emotion.
Only by the expenditure of blood, could Tzevi give his ghostly pale skin any hint of color. Even
then he would only slightly pass for one of the living, not that that worried him. Tzevi preferred
to keep his distance from the vile kine as often as possible. In life, with his dark looks and sneer,
Tzevi was regarded as handsome. But now, as the years had drained the essence from his
body, he had lost that something that had drawn so many admirers.

Hands warmed from the pits of hell touched the base of Tzevi's spine and traced
upwards to his neck as other unseen spirits leapt into the receiver and transmitted their power to
him. Then the hands were ripped away violently, and Tzevi was chilled as a single violent wind
blew through the cold, but sealed basement. The light from the candles blinked off, as if flipped
off by a switch, leaving Tzevi alone in the basement, wondering what he had done wrong.
A moment later he saw the door to the basement opening, and smelled the scent of
death that was familiar to his own. Light from the upper portion of the house flooded in, and
Tzevi gritted his teeth in anger, fangs sliding down over his lower lip. He got up slowly, but
made no moves to welcome whoever had decided to make such an unwelcome intrusion into
his chambers.

His eyes narrowed to focus on the figure forming a black shadow against the light, even
as a vampire his vision was not perfect, and he still needed to wear his tiny wire-rimmed glasses
whenever he remembered to put them on. He noticed a moment later, with a slight trace of
disgust, that the person was Julian.

A seneschal for the Prince, and his favorite childe, Julian stood at the top of the stairs. It
looked as though he had spent hours in front of the mirror before even thinking about going out.
His short brown hair was neatly groomed and brushed back, a white shirt and pants, that
seemed to be the bottom half of a two-piece designer suit, were wrinkle free. The picture of
perfection, and he still looked at least halfway alive, if Tzevi had cared he would have been
jealous.

"Lord Tzevi." Julian offered him a short smile as he started down the rickety wooden
stairs "May I come down?"

It was blatantly apparent that Julian would not turn and retreat, even if Tzevi had
responded to the question with that answer. So Tzevi nodded, and absently, but not too
discreetly, kicked some of the candles away to disguise the shape of a star.

"Rather dark in here, is it not?" Julian asked, trying to make polite conversation as he
reached out and flipped on a light switch. The single light bulbs that hung from the ceiling
flooded the room with a bright iridescent hospital light, and Tzevi squeezed his eyes shut. Being
so used to the darkness it hurt to be exposed to so much light so quickly.

Julian watched Tzevi's reaction and flipped the switch so the light disappeared. He was
in Tzevi's territory, anyway, and it would not do good to make the proprietor angry. Besides,
he could see in the dark fine. "My apologizes, I didn't stop to consider that..."

"Are you here for some particular reason?" Tzevi interrupted, sliding his tongue over his
fangs so they would once again return to where they belonged, it would not do to bare your
fangs at someone of high power, "Or did you wish to socialize?"

"I do not interrupt rituals unless it is of the utmost importance." Julian said matter-of-
factly, and it seemed to Tzevi that he had no real wager on what was actually important to
someone like Tzevi "I came to warn you about Reed."

Tzevi's blood cooled over a degree or two at the mention of the man's name, his
discontent with the name even being mentioned was apparent, and Julian stepped back a foot.
"Did he not suffer the Final Death over a month ago?"

Julian frowned "While that may be the case...there have been many rumors. Too many
to disregard so freely. I heard from Brooke that he has been flouncing about St. Louis trying to
locate you. Apparently he has some urgent business with which to discuss with you."

"Reed is dead." Tzevi's eyes lit up with rage as he growled, "That Tzimisce bastard is
never to bother me again!"
Julian shrugged nonchalantly, as if the situation bothered him not "Only relaying to you
what I have heard. Perhaps Vint could scout the area for you. Better to be safe than sorr-"

"Perhaps, Julian," Tzevi interrupted once more, interjecting just enough sarcasm into his
name to get Julian's attention "My gargoyle has better things to do then scan the city for some
phantom that no longer walks. I saw him die, and this Nosferatu of yours must have simply been
mistaking."

"Alright then." Julian nodded, his face a mask of indifference "But perhaps you'll take
this a bit more seriously." He produced a small white envelope with a gold seal keeping it shut.
Even as he lifted it from his pocket, an odd smell wafted to Tzevi's nostrils. It was unidentifiable,
something that smelled like a mixture of roses and blood. Julian handed the envelope to Tzevi,
threw him another one of his signature short but sweet smiles, and left.

Tzevi turned the envelope over and slid his fingernail under the fold, breaking the seal.
The image imprinted on the seal was tiny, but he thought he could see two bats biting each
other's necks in mid-flight, blood spraying the sides of the circle. He heard Julian making his
way up the stairs, slowly of course, as he pulled out the crimson note.

The letters were scrawled in a dim color gold that was almost invisible against the
crimson, but he could tell it was Reed's unmistakable handwriting, with the sharp loops and
daggered T's. He read:

Tzevi sweetheart,
You've slipped away from me one too many times love, each time by the skin of
your gangly arms, leaving only blood on my fingernails like a shadow, or a memento. I
haven't quite figured it out yet.
The reason that I've decided to record my thoughts in such an unconventional
form of communication is that I am almost positively assured that it will reach you
quickly. You thought I had died, didn't you? Foolish boy...as always, leaving the scene
before making sure the job was done. I had not yet a chance to sing my swan song...thus
I have remained on this plane.
Look for me, my precious darling, as our souls will mingle in our final bloody
battle. Only this time, I believe, it will be your ashes I sprinkle on the Prince's doorstep
underneath the Wyrt moon.
I can just imagine adrenaline rushing through your sweet nectar.
Love, your Reed

Tzevi could taste the familiar acidic taste against the back of his tongue as he reread the
note, even though his stomach was empty of any fluids, the phantom taste returned. He
crumpled up the note and threw it on the ground with disgust, stomping down on it with the heel
of his boot, as if Reed were somehow encased in the paper.

"So it seems my rival has returned after all." Tzevi said with contempt "Well...no use in
delaying the inevitable. We will end this useless feud once and for all, after I squeeze a few
answers from his monstrous mouth."

Inwardly, Tzevi trembled, unsure if he would be able to do it. He hated Reed, hated him
with a passion no mortal would understand, and yet...he still retained feelings for him that could
not be explained in words. He didn't necessary hate Reed as much as what he had become, a
heartless, maniacal Tzimisce with a vendetta against everyone, human and kindred alike.
-+-
"Good night out. Calm weather. No bad smell." Vint said in his low rumbling voice like
his vocal chords were clogged with rocks. He looked at his master expectantly as Tzevi
emerged from the secret exit of the basement, wondering if Tzevi had brought him any treats,
packages of blood maybe. Tzevi looked up at his gargoyle and actually smiled.

"Yes Vint, it is a good night out tonight, isn't it? Have you seen anyone suspicious
lurking about the house?"

Vint shook his head ferociously, and Tzevi was amazed that Vint had yet to stab himself
when he shook his head like that, with one of the long horns that protruded from his jaw. "If
there was, Vint would have made the secret signal." Vint told him, digging his talons into the
granite post he was perched upon.

"Very good, thank you Vint." Tzevi nodded "I must leave for a little while, please be
extra vigilant and make sure no one goes in or out of this house, especially the basement."

Vint nodded slowly, unsure of what vigilant meant, but knowing he would look extra
carefully for anyone who would be sneaking around. Obviously his master was expecting
somebody to show up, and that made Vint feel uneasy.
"Should anyone come along." Tzevi continued, "Stake them, and let me deal with the consequences if that should be an elder or the Prince."

He turned abruptly, his cape flowing behind him in a sudden gust of wind, and began
walking down the path that would lead to the main road.

It was blisteringly hot and humid that August, yet Tzevi wore the cape in hopes that if
Reed saw him he could easily identify him. The birthday present that had come from Reed so
long ago was nothing but a smothering piece of cloth that made him uncomfortably warm. Tzevi
remembered how mortified he had felt when he had been walking home from the local market
that October, and Reed ran up and wrapped an arm around his waist and handed him the
present, wrapped in purple tissue. He had looked around warily to see if anyone could see
Reed kissing his neck as he unwrapped the gift. Even now, the cloak was an embarrassment, a
memento of that afternoon when Reed had been daring enough to show him affection in public.
Even though nobody these days would have been old enough to see that day, he was afraid
someone would recall it and begin to laugh at him. Even in the late winter months that so deeply
contrasted from August he would not wear the cape. Afraid of all the memories it held.

The streets of downtown St. Louis were abuzz with drunks and partiers. The air actually
vibrated with their alcoholic passion and heedless energy. People who had come to celebrate
their last day of work for the week, or just do what they did every other night.

As Tzevi was walking by briskly, he saw a pair of men leaned against a dirty building,
groping each other. One was clad all in leather and looked like a knock off of the village people,
a black hankie dangling out of his pocket. The one was barely dressed at all, Tzevi realized,
amazed that the cops hadn't arrested somebody out in a black g-string and some bondage
materials. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, where had the youth population gone these days?
Down the hole to hell, of course. Because sex as a sexual, romantic thing between two loving
people seemed lost upon these kids, gay, straight, or bisexual. Had they really lost all other
forms of entertainment when they guiltlessly chimed that sex was "fun" and "the best way to
party"? What had happened to the days where sports, art, movies, and other various activities
were done for recreation? Not sex, there was no salvaging it now. It had been uselessly
exploited, videotaped, ripped open, discarded, and used as a threat.

Tzevi spat blood on the ground as he passed the two; the kine were becoming just as
repulsive as the Kindred he had grown to distaste, though for different reasons. Kindred were
heartless conniving monsters, you would do better to turn your back on an insane mortal serial
killer then one of those beings. And kine had tainted everything sacred and blackened it so that
it was nothing but sludge running down the gutters. Tzevi realized he would prefer to be neither
kindred nor kine, but if he wasn't that...what would he be? A Werewolf? He laughed at the
idea of being a moronic oversized puppy. Ghosts were sad relics of the past, stuck forever in a
world that has long since disappeared. Faeries were annoying, and Tzevi wasn't sure he wanted
to be any kind of feral animal, not wanting to give up a thinking, active mind to one that ran
purely on instinct.

A Triple-X store with a giant neon sign caught Tzevi's attention, though not for the
reason one would first assume. It was a trashy place, one that Tzevi would never enter unless
pressed, but he thought he recognized somebody going through the racks of vulgar videos. As
he neared, he confirmed what he had thought, it was Evan.

The tough talking Brujah was browsing the videos, trying to look nonchalant as he eyed
any customer that entered with a blood-filled lust. Even though he was doing something as vile
as cruising for vessels at a trashy store, Tzevi was surprised Evan didn't have his little 'toy'
clinging to his hips. The slightly inexperienced Orion, grandchilde to the Prince, had been seen
hanging around Evan more and more in the recent months. There had even been rumors that
they had moved in together.

The bells attached to the door jingled as Tzevi eased it open, a rush of air conditioning
blasting him in the face and making him shiver in spite of himself. The potbellied, balding man
behind the counter looked up briefly from his magazine to see Tzevi, but it quickly returned
back down to 'his delight'. It didn't matter that Tzevi looked paler then a ghost, or more out of
place then a vagabond amongst an R.S.V.P. dinner, because the man had come across some of
the weirdest people in existence since he had opened up. Hell, he was one of those weirdest
people in existence.

"Need something, warlock?" Evan asked, his dark blue eyes focusing in on Tzevi
behind mirror shade sunglasses.
"I'm looking for someone." Tzevi whispered, picking up a title and pretending to study it
as he talked to Evan.
"No need to whisper, that's the only thing that gets 'em suspicious." Evan said loudly,
and even though the man didn't look up, Tzevi cringed.
"Shh...could you tone it down a bit?"
"Sure." Evan shrugged "So who would it be that you are looking for?"
"It's none of your business." Tzevi told him.
Evan chuckled "So I was wrong then? You came into this garbage can because you
genuinely wanted some good five star entertainment? Not because you needed my help?"
Tzevi frowned at being mocked, but said nothing to it "Perhaps I do, but only if you can
help me."
Evan nodded slightly, grinning, "Mmm...yeah I can help you."

Tzevi raised his eyebrows, legitimately surprised. The last and only time Tzevi had
admitted to needing Evan's expertise, Evan had played a mind game with him until Tzevi nearly
broke down. This time he had admitted he knew about something with little or no struggle.

"What is the catch, Evan?" Tzevi asked cautiously, not quite sure he wanted to hear it.

The door jingled once more, but neither of them looked up as Evan debated this question.

Evan felt arms circling around his waist, and he was about to elbow whoever it was in
the mouth when he looked down to see the familiar maroon cuffs of Orion's favorite shirt. Evan
looked over his shoulder to have Orion plant a soft kiss on his cheek, smiling happily.

This had caught the owner's attention, and he watched the two with disgust for a short
period of time. When he finally got the balls up to say something that would resemble 'get out of
my store you fucking queers, we don't have what you want here', Evan took off his sunglasses
and shot him down with a cold glare, while Orion ran his fingers through Evan's spiked blonde
hair.

Tzevi regarded the two with jealousy. The obviously smaller, frailer Orion with his baby
face and innocent green eyes. The permanently pissed off but discreetly happy face of Evan's
with thin lips, narrowed blue eyes and a sharp nose. They reminded Tzevi of him and Reed, of
the happiness he had once had as a human but knew it was unobtainable as a vampire. Not
many kindred were able to feel so secure around each other that they could actually say they
were "in love". And for a Brujah and a Ventrue who had not known each other as humans, it
was a remarkable task.

"I knew I'd find you." Orion laid his head on Evan's shoulder, glancing at Tzevi but not
really wondering or caring if he had interrupted anything.

Evan sighed, but made no moves to remove Orion from around him. Instead he looked
over at Tzevi to make sure he wasn't smirking or inwardly criticizing him. Indeed he wasn't and
Evan wasn't sure, but he thought he saw traces of sadness in his eyes, as if the scene had taken
him back to a place unreachable anywhere but in his brain. Evan actually felt sorry for the older
vampire, something that happened sparingly, as most elders were vile with their obnoxious
superiority complexes and monstrosity. Evan decided that Tzevi was worthy to receive free
information, just this once.

"You're looking for Reed, right?" Evan asked, breaking Tzevi out of his trance. Tzevi
nodded slightly, still dazed, and Evan grinned.

"Reed is hanging out by the arch, at least that's what a few little birdies tweeted to me."
Evan wrapped an arm around Orion's slim waist and watched as the storekeeper was about
to gag. Orion seemed to read Evan's mind and realized what game he was playing, because he
huddled closer to him.
"Do I owe you anything?" Tzevi asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Now, this is a rare occasion, and don't expect me to do this every time but....no, this
is a freebie. Maybe I'm just in a good mood, but don't get used to it."

Tzevi nodded, elated with the knowledge of Reed's whereabouts. He began to walk
out, when the man behind the counter's voice seemed to yank him back inside.

"Hey, you better buy something. I didn't open this place for loitering. Faggots." The
man added the last word under his breath, his voice as disgusting as one would imagine. A cross
between a frog and a fat woman with laryngitis. Tzevi felt his hands tightening into fists, Evan
and Orion looking up to see if Tzevi would do what they wanted to. But instead of fighting,
which Tzevi didn't have the time for; he went over, grabbed on of the videos and slammed it
down on the counter.

"That'll be 27.50." The man told him, holding out his pudgy, grimy little hand.
Impatiently Tzevi reached in his pocket and produced the right amount of change, then grabbed
the video, something called Milky Way, and walked out.
Behind him, as he closed the door and walked down the street at a pace faster then the
one before, he heard Evan erupt.

"WHAT THE FUCK DIDJA MEAN BY THAT, FATASS?" Evan growled, hopping
up on the counter, chains from his pants jingling as he pulled out a switchblade. He heard Orion
laughing insanely as Evan threatened the man with it, who had pissed his cotton drawstring
pants.

There was no telling how long Reed would be at the arch, or if he was still there at all.
Evan could have received that information hours, maybe even days ago, and if Reed was
looking for him there was no guarantee he'd leave it up to Tzevi to find him. Now, however,
Tzevi had a purpose. And that purpose was to kill Reed before the sun rose. Maybe then he
could move on with his unlife, maybe.

It was often only at the discretion of the Prince that once could inflict the Final Death
upon someone, but seeing as Tzevi was a member of the Primogen, and the vampire in question
was a Sabbat member, he was sure his punishment would not be too harsh, if there was one at
all. He simply couldn't waste time trying to get the Prince's approval, time was of the essence.

As he walked briskly down the sidewalk, various late night stores zooming by in a blur
of neon, Tzevi encountered the back of an atrociously large man. He towered over the postal
box he was leaning on to support his drunken body, maybe even seven feet tall. Tzevi tried to
see if he could squeeze past him, but he was taking up most of the sidewalk and cars were flying
past them, dangerously close, too close to venture out into the street without risking becoming
road kill. Impatiently, Tzevi pushed past the man and kept on going, forgetting about him as
quickly as he had debated his existence. As he walked by, however, the man straightened
himself and grabbed Tzevi's cape and whirled him around.

Tzevi let out a surprised yell as the barbarian grabbed him. He wore a simple white t-
shirt that showed off his bulging muscles, and he had an ugly face that had gone unshaven for a
couple of days, he looked like a mutt. His golden eyes glowered at Tzevi behind tiny wire-
rimmed spectacles that were dwarfed by the largeness of his face, out of place of the rest of the
image.

"Whaddya think yer doing, Mr. Medieval man?" The man asked angrily, his voice
slightly slurred with alcohol "I oughta jam yer nose back into your puny brain, punk. Teach you
a little respect." He grabbed Tzevi's neck with one hand and lifted him off the ground, leaning in
so his breath heated Tzevi's ear he whispered "Er perhaps I'll just slit your wrists with my claws
and drain you of all that stolen blood."

Tzevi trembled slightly as the man's hand tightened on his neck. The air was tense with
hostility, and Tzevi looked around eagerly to see if anyone was watching or calling for help, but
the street was suddenly deserted, and he felt helpless.

Great, killed by a mutt while searching for my maniacal ex-boyfriend, Tzevi
thought spitefully, how perfect.

The thought jarred Tzevi out of his passivity; he realized he couldn't die just yet. He
began clawing at the man's hands desperately, and began kicking, hoping his boot would catch
on the werewolf's underside and hit his weak spot. The werewolf simply laughed at Tzevi's
pathetic display of attempted escape "On behalf of my Shadow Lord brethren, all who hate you
just as much as I do, I shall take your stolen life."

"I wouldn't suggest you do that." A cold voice came from behind Tzevi, but he couldn't
turn his head to see who it was. It sounded familiar though and made Tzevi's unbeating heart
flutter briefly. The werewolf growled and dropped Tzevi, though one huge foot came down on
Tzevi's leg to keep him pinned where he was.

"Who do you think you-?" His voice was cut off when the newcomers fist shot out and
slammed into his face. The werewolf stumbled back, surprised, and cupped his hands under his
nose to catch the cascading blood.

Tzevi looked up, his leg sour from where the Shadow Lord had stomped on it; to see
the person he had been looking for all night. He was about 6', with short silvery spiked hair and
bright blue eyes. His face was impassive, cool, with a small chin and sharp nose, but a glare to
his eyes that could stare anyone down. He was dressed in black turtleneck and black slacks,
which just barely concealed an athletic body, a silver star amulet hanging from around his neck.

Reed grinned a toothy grin, seeming so small in comparison to the werewolf, but his
confidence, mistaken for arrogance, set him over the edge, he had a power that far surpassed
the mutt's, and he knew that the mutt knew it too. Fangs slid out from beneath his upper lip, and
Tzevi glanced around nervously to see if anyone was around while the wolf gritted his teeth
together angrily, to prideful to tuck his tail and run.

"You little prick." The werewolf growled, but Reed held up his hand to silence him.

"You messed with the wrong warlock, you see?" Reed asked, "This one happens to be
a friend of mine. I do believe you were going to kill him, were you not?"

"YEAH I was gonna kill him, and I'll KILL YOU TOO You snot nosed brat."

"Shame shame," Reed shook his head "I suppose that won't do, now will it? I think
it's time to show you my greatest pleasure, which would be sculpting."

The werewolf was too confused to know he should be running now, and so Reed
grabbed him by his tree trunk thick neck, his eyes lighting up with sadistic glee as he grabbed a
handful of flesh and ripped it out, no blood being spilled as he molded it as he pleased. The
werewolf screamed as his jaw was stretched outwards to give him the appearance of a broad
faced turtle, then his body went slack from shock. Reed did not stop, however, since it was
much easier to mold when they were not struggling. He ripped out bones and shaped them into
spikes up and down his arms. Tzevi watched as Reed turned the werewolf into a horrid looking
monster, who would from then on be socially unaccepted, if he lived.

When he was finally done, the Tzimisce hopped off and smiled coldly at Tzevi.

"Shall we go?"

-End of Chapter 1-