The footsteps resounded with an eerie thud in the darkened warehouse. How many times had he been here now? Seven, perhaps, and still he shuddered slightly at the ominous sound of his own two feet. Scattered crates and boxes were strewn all around the floor, some open, some bolted down tightly. From the ones that were open, he could see the weapons and narcotics bunched together. He couldn't help but wonder how these guys got it all through customs. The dull moonlight that found it's way through one of the many windows did little to illuminate the large open room, instead it cast shadows upon the wall, and did more to concern him then help him.
He neared the centre of the warehouse floor, and instinctively dropped his hand done to his waist, and the waiting pistol. He ran his thumb across the weapon feeling for the safety trigger, and with the familiar click, he turned it off. He cringed even at the slight noise created by his weapon, feeling even that was too much in this place. He didn't like it here at all, even for a man like himself. This was an unwelcome place.
He stood immobile for a few minutes, waiting. He was scared out of his mind, but didn't show it. They could sense fear, and he didn't want them to suspect. It wasn't until his abnormally good senses picked up the other three men who had just entered the room. This was why he was here.
"Ethan Merek." The voice rang inside Ethan's head, and sent a shiver down his spine. He had done this before! This was nothing new to him, yet he was terrified this time. "We have warned you several times to leave the city!"
"You know I can't do that, Rashagal" When Ethan began to talk, he felt traces of his courage come back to him. "You know I cannot leave until the Sabbat is no more of a threat." The calmness of his voice surprised him. Until a few minutes ago, he was terrified, and thought he might run at the first sight of these ancient beings. Off to the side of the first man who spoke, he saw his two aides confer among themselves. He heard the muffled voices of both, and then saw them both smile, and chuckle. Obviously they were amused.
"You intend to take on the Sabbat, still!" The response was of utter disbelief. Rashagal was taken aback. "You still wish to take them on, even after they killed, and embraced your entire hunting party! Such courage and devotion from a mortal is…." Rashagal's face curled in thought. As he sought for the appropriate word to use.
"…Promising." He grinned, but it turned sour as fast as it had developed. "Be warned though! You will have no more support of the Camarilla, as you allowed one of are Elders to die in your hunting pack. We will not oppose you in this venture though, for we wish to see the Sabbat's influence on this city gone as much as you." Rashagal turned, motioning to the two other men to leave.
Ethan watched as the three Cainites left the warehouse, and uttered a small thanks to God. "Bloody Vampires…" He swore under his breath, wishing that he never got involved in this damned crusade. He turned in the dim light, and walked to the large doors of the warehouse.
Rashagal peered into the darkness where Ethan was standing just moments ago. The empty void seemed so appropriate. Even though he was a part of the Camarilla, he felt no need to protect the mortals. He was one of many in Cainite society that felt the mortals are nothing more then mere food. He quickly shrugged it off, and turned to his two aides.
"Follow him. I don't want him stumbling into something that could be dangerous to us." The two men nodded, and backed into the darkness, slowly disappearing from sight