Disclaimer: The idea of this story, in the most part, belongs to the White Wolf company. They have created the world, and the history of it, and I am merely writing about the happenings of one vampire of my creation in their world. The story line is of my creation, though if some similarities may exist between this and others, take no offense, as I have not meant for this to happen. If any problems arise, please notify me at my e-mail address: eldamri242@hotmail.com I will be willing to talk things over, or if the case may be, change what is written, but I will not without good cause. This is meant for enjoyment, not profit, and I just wish for others to enjoy this world as much as I have. Thank you, and please enjoy.

March 14, 2001

Journal Log #1, the first and last.

Okay, all of us have seen the Dracula movies, laughed at the idea of vampires in the world, and put it behind us as being myth. I can tell you that you are wrong, dead wrong. We exist, us vampires, though we make our presence unknown. At least, most of us do, anyway.

The life of a vampire is not always easy; politics within the clan; the battles with the Lupines, or werewolves as they are more known; vampire hunters out for a kill on their belts. Yeah, all of those we have to deal with. Immortal we may be, but few of us live long.

We all have a story, of how our lives were before our Embrace, the Embrace itself, the training with our elder, and our life afterwards. Some are long and prosperous, others short and swift. Some still are destined for success, and others for failure. Our lives are very much like when we were alive, but then again, so very different. My story…not much, and just beginning, but at least I'm alive to tell it, so far; that's good enough for me. Much better than others…

I guess my story really starts at my Embrace, in a small city called Poplar Bluff, about 175 miles south of St. Louis, Missouri. I had been going about my somewhat reclusive life in comfort, being neither bothered nor bothering anybody else. Just had been offered several scholarships to various colleges, and my music career was just starting. Although love was never a big factor in my life, there still was this girl, and it looked like we just might go somewhere.

It was an odd match, though: myself, I am about 5'8, 160 lbs, with short, blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and although not particularly attractive, I couldn't be called ugly; she, a cheerleader, short at 5'2, 113 lbs, with long, flowing, brown hair and bright green eyes, and as beautiful as they come. I never knew why she chose me over the preppies; perhaps my wit, or my intellect, or, probably the most logical reason, my music. Any style I could play (rock, pop, and classical being my better ones) and I could play anything, from the guitar to even some of classical instruments, like the clarinet and violin. So I guess it's not too hard to get a girl when you can sing and play any song to her.

Anyway, it was the summer after my graduation, and I had just applied for a college in California that could support my yearning to continue on my musical career. A few friends of mine were organizing a party at their pad, so I was asked to go, to play DJ for 'em. So I went. Loaded up the CD's and stereos in the car, backed out of the driveway, and took off.

At that time, I lived in the country, in a little house out of the way with my parents, until I finally got accepted to a college, in which I'd move there, so it was about a twenty minute drive to my friend's house; plenty of time to go through my list again. Going down the road, I reached behind the seat to grab a CD, turned to stick it in, and looked up just in time to see a guy standing in the road, facing my incoming car. Instincts took over, and I was able to swerve, but I lost control and hit the ditch. Luckily, the car didn't flip or blow up, and all I did was get my head slammed into the steering wheel hard. It hurt like hell, and I could feel blood running from a cut, but other than that, I was okay. Pissed off, but okay.

I jerked the door open, stepped out of the car onto the road, and looked for the guy, but he was nowhere to be found. "Great," I said to myself, "I'm jumping over shadows now."

I turned back to the car, and there he was, leaning against my car. "Shadows…not too far from the truth," he said to me in a quiet voice from an unseen face. He had a jacket on, with the hood pulled up, so I couldn't see his face. And then the smell hit me. A stench like I've never smelled before, like the smell of road kill multiplied hundredfold, came from this man.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded. "What the fuck were you doing in the road? I nearly hit you! And damn near killed myself in the process."

"Who I am and what my business is is my own, and I have no need to explain them to a human. All you need to worry about it your life. Which, I have to admit, is nearly at its end, for I am hungry and grow bored of this tirade." He pulled down his hood, and what I saw nearly scared me to death. This guy was dead, and rotting as we spoke! No wonder he stunk! But I didn't have much longer to think this over, as when I looked at his eyes, they gleamed for a minute, and then I could feel his mind in my own.

"Stop," he said, and I was as still as a statue. He slowly walked up, almost as if stalking me. "It's usually not fun to do it this way, but I'm tired today, so I'll just go easy. As he stood right before me, he smiled, or something like that, and I could see then his extended fangs. A vampire? I thought. What the hell…I thought they were a myth, a figment of some demented soul's imagination? Realization struck me then; I was going to die. I struggled with my bond, but I could not avert my eyes from his. Shit…

And then he was gone, and my prison dissipated. I looked, and there he was, fifteen feet off to the side, with another person standing over him, drawing what looked like a stake from a pocket. Rearing back, the figure drove it hard into the chest, and the vampire stopped moving. The figure then stood.

"What just happened? Was that a vampire?"

The figure turned, and the second surprise of the night hit me; it was a beautiful woman, about 23, waist length black hair and alabaster skin, wearing a dress that looked like it came out of the Renaissance period, that stood before me. "Yes," she said in a softly accented voice that sent a thrill down my spine.

"That was a Nosferatu, one of the cursed, the ones who hide in the shadow. He almost took you from me." She smiled then. "But I wouldn't let him have you."

"Uh…thanks," I managed to say, feeling a blush come to my face. "Glad you, uh, got here when you did. Looks like we was, uh, gonna, uh," I stuttered under her gaze, "bite me."

"Yes, he was, but that is not for him to do. You have greater things in life in store for you than being one of the Nosferats."

"Like what kind of things?" I asked, blushing even more. Okay, so I never had much practice speaking with women, especially the gorgeous ones.

"How does eternal life with me sound?" she asked, coming closer and putting her hands together in a gesture of demureness. "I have it within my power to enable you to live forever at my side, at the head of a powerful family. We could spend our lives together, playing the most beautiful of music, and afterwards," her smile becoming smoky, "well, you will just have to find out."

I was stunned. Eternal life, with a beautiful woman? There had to be a catch somewhere; no deal is this sweet without a reason. "What's the catch?" I asked cautiously

Her smile turned sour. "You doubt me? How dare you!" Her once calm and smiling face contorted into one of anger. Oh shit…I just pissed her off… "Insolent brat! Let's see how you like eternal life…as my enemy!" Quick as lighting, faster than I could have ever thought a person could move, she was on me, and then I felt it. The bite. Ecstasy like I've never felt before flowed through me, and I just went with it. The thought of possible danger left my head, and my brain was fried. Slowly, I began to weaken, as my blood went to her, and all went black. Thus, my humanity ended, and my life truly began.

I awoke in some living room, sparsely furnished, and in desperate need of a repainting. I could see from a window that it was still night, but dawn was not too far away. In a seat across from the sofa in which I lay in was a man, about 30, fairly average in appearance, but had a presence around him that bespoke of authority. "And the sleeper awakes," he says with a slight smile. "Always takes so long, awakening from the Kiss. And then comes the realization, then the denial, and after all that, the truth, when you begin to change."

"What do you mean, the Kiss? That bitch bit me! Am I a vampire now, too?"

"Yes you are. And of good blood, too; your sire was of strong blood, not far removed from C-c-," he stuttered on the word, unable to say it. "Not far removed from the earliest of our kind, I guess it the best way I can put it, for we cannot speak his name." He stood up, and walked to the next room. I heard the sound of a refrigerator door opening, the clicking of glass touching glass, then the refrigerator closing. He came back, holding a crystal glass filled with a dark red wine. He took a sip, and grimaced at its taste. "It's never as good from the bottle." Blood? Another vampire? I thought to myself. Why would a vampire take me away, if I'm to become one as well?

"It's good that I found you when I did; the Nosferat was about to shred you to pieces. You've made many enemies tonight, Scott, and a great deal of them powerful ones."

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, forgetting for the moment that he had saved my life. "And what enemies?"

He smiled again, "You've been watched for the last several months by two clans: the Toreadors, whom the woman was of, and the Brujah, my clan. There is a war brewing between our clans, though we still both reside in the Camarilla. I'm still confused as to the reasons of the war, but nearly three years ago, there was an attack on a Brujah haven in Chicago by several of the more powerful Toreadors, including the Toreador primogen and the city's prince. Two managed to survive, and we were able to identify several of the attackers through their descriptions. One of those was the woman you met earlier. She's Rienna Leyran, one of the primogens that rule in St. Louis.

"Because of this attack, several of my clan leaders decided that they had enough of being disrespected by the others, and very nearly declared blood war upon the Toreadors before we were able to stop them. If they had, I would not be standing here today, as the Camarilla would have destroyed my clan, and left only a few alive to keep the line going. But there is still an unsaid war between the two clans, and we need help. There is dissention among the clan, and our newer vampires are rebelling against the authority. We can't fight the Toreador and ourselves at the same time and expect to win.

"That's where you come in. Although we, the nobles of Clan Brujah, had originally planned for you to be one of us, it comes out for the best that you are of strong Toreador blood now, and you can go where we cannot, and take control where we have no influence. Many of the rebels are being supported by the Toreador, and take suggestions from them. You, being a Toreador, can influence their actions, for the benefit of the Brujah."

"But if I'm Toreador, why should I be helping the Brujah, especially if I'm supposed to be at war with you? Why would I stick around here when I can go find some of my clansmen and join them?"

He eyes became cold, and he sat down his glass. "Tell me, then, how do you propose to find these Toreador? You know nothing of their ways, or of the Kindred for that matter. And even if you could find a Toreador, who says it's not one under Rienna's control? She has a grudge against you now, and she will do all she can to make your immortal life hell." He looked down, and picked up his glass, and once his gaze returned, it was no longer a blizzard. "At least you are thinking of other options; for that, I congratulate you, however foolish your ideas were. You did not know fully understand your unique situation, and for that I cannot fault you. But you need to learn, and learn fast, for soon the battles will become larger, and more of us will die."

"Why don't you negotiate for peace, rather than fighting? What reasons did the Toreadors have for assaulting your haven? Maybe it was a mistake, and it was someone else that attacked."

"They have told us that they do not want peace, nor would we give it to them had they asked. They have offended the pride of the Brujah, and they will pay for it." HHe stood up and walked to the window. "The night draws to an end," he says quietly. "We will soon feel a great need to sleep fall upon us, and we will. There is a place for you to sleep in the next room." He pointed to a door to the left. "We will continue our conversation later tonight, and the training will begin."

I stood up. "Training? What kind of training?"

"The training that separates us from the humans, the abilities we have within us to use, once we learn to master them. Be ready for tomorrow; it will be one of the most important in your life." I waited for him to say more, but he just stood there.

I shrugged, and walked to the door. Opening it, I turned back to him, "Two last questions, and I'll accept what you believe and do your training. First, what is your name?"

"I am Gerard Hanson. And the second question?"

"What about my life? How am I going to explain this to my parents, to my girlfriend Jessica, to my friends?"

Gerard turned and walked to foot table beside the couch, picking up a T.V. remote and turning it on. It was a news channel. A scene of carnage, of a burning car and a mutilated body flashed across the screen. An announcer's voice spoke up, "Earlier tonight, on the Highway 67 towards Poplar Bluff, police and rescue workers found the body of Scott Jenkins, Poplar Bluff senior and honor student, thrown from his car at 12:32 a.m. He was pronounced dead at sight, and has been taken to the Butler County Mortuary to await burial." The T.V. clicked off, and Gerard turned towards me again, "The Giovanni's owed us a favor, so we got them to bring in a Tremere and do his stuff on a corpse. You are now dead, Scott, to the world. It's time to become free, and embrace your future as a vampire. It's all you have now, so do the best you can with it."

He walked to a door across the room, and opened it. "Good-day, Scott; the dawn comes and we must sleep. Tonight the training, tomorrow the world." He stepped in and closed his door behind him.

Having nothing else to do, I entered my room and closed the door. Lying down on the bed, I thought. Great…I'm dead, or undead is more like it, and my future has gone to shit. Damn her! Damn them all! Why me? Why now, just as my life was starting? Dammit! Slowly, I could feel my mindgo numb, like when I did my 48-hour marathons. Is this…the Sleep? This is…so…strange……must………stay………awake………..Everything then blacked out.

Over the next few weeks, Gerard taught me of vampires, of their lives and ways, their histories and rules, and most importantly, of their powers. I quickly mastered them, to both of our pleasure. He was able to teach me three of the ten main disciplines of the vampires: Celerity, the ability to speed oneself up, which was also the main discipline of the Toreadors;Fortitude, the ability to absorb damage even better than what a regular vamp could; and Potence, the discipline of strength, which multiplied my already great vampiric strength.

After the disciplines were mastered, he taught me how to fight. Swords, clubs, guns…anything and everything was fair game, and with the ease that I've learned everything else in my life and unlife, I learned these weapon too. I quickly took a liking to the sword, with its ease to use, the weight of it comforting in my hands, and its ability to cut through anything, even a vampire, if the need arose. I still held on to a gun, though, a sawed-off, double barrel shotgun. Gerard gave me some special shells to use if I ever encountered enemy vampires, which he called Dragon's Breath rounds, but he would not explain what it was that they did.

And then the time came to start my mission, to do what it was that I was made to do. I was told to go to Kansas City, and there I would find a bar called, "Jezzie's Place". It was an Elysium, a neutral zone of humans, Lupines, and humans, where each could interact in relative safety. The owner of the bar, Jezebella, was a Toreador, and held some power with the prince of the city, as she has done numerous jobs for him in the past, and still currently is according to recent intelligence. With her are a group of vampires that she consorts with; a Malkavian, a Ventrue, a Tremere, a Gangrel, a Nosferatu, a Brujah, and a Setite. The whole Camarilla represented, ironically, with the addition of a Setite. Jezzie and the Brujah, Zephyr, seem immune to the current hatred amassed between their clans. Maybe they are unaware of the actions of their clans, or do not care what they do; I don't know, nor do I really care, for my mission does not concern their feelings of the war.

But anyway, this is where my story ends, and my new experiences begin. Hopefully, all will go well in K.C., and my ordeals will be swift and easy.Until then.

Scott Jenkins,

3-14-01

Author's note: After this, it becomes a first-person view rather than a first-person narrative, which I find aggravating at times, other than for creating an introduction, as done. I hope that this part has been enjoyable, and that you will continue on reading what I write, after I get it posted. Thanks, and good-bye, until the next time that our paths cross.