It's early morning, the light of a full moon's ray seeps into an abandoned warehouse, falling in through boarded windows. The yellow light splashes onto the gray concrete floor; cracks scar through the concrete from age, dissected from a whole that existed in many decades gone past. Decades when boots chunked across the thick floors. Days when heavy boxes and crates scathed across on dollies, when this warehouse was a middle ground for the busy streets that once populated this city. Though this was a long time ago now. The streets are slow now days. Business buildings crackle and collapse in waves of mortar, bricks and glass. Companies fall under the whim of a slowing economy. Upstart businesses stand not a chance to the mainstays of the commercial slated chains of e-commerce and fast food. Ideas and good will, does little to sway the workingman's dollar, instead they look to the cheapest most heavy-duty brands. Commercials, in between the news with catchy slogan, Bristol, is now a wrecked city, where once companies and tourist helped the city maintain a splendor look to the small yet quick paced city, now the government is burdened with the entire situation and the city further degrades. The small companies that are locally owned are far and in-between, but these company owners are all now slaves to their corporate owners. The owners are a known by one name. One name that is shuttered between the cursed lips of the few who know of its existence, yes, Pentex. Though this is not a story of the company that eats away at the earth's last reserves as the end draws near. No our sights fall to a single form that is silhouetted against the wall of concrete, as a wave of light falls over the shaven head.
The strong square chin arches down over the mighty shoulders, as wisp like fingers circle a Faber castle number two. A backpack sits to the side of the cargo pants he wears as a constant reminder of what he was, and the painful memory of what he is. The graphite etches over the blue stretched lines of a notebook. This man or unman is not a hero in his own head right now. Not a savior who can stop the times just brooding on the horizon. This kindred is just another face in the flesh parade, even if he himself feasts on those around him, feasting on the very blood of those he also risks to save. Needlessly killing and rescuing, Velrik D'Lunish is a paradox himself. Not quite sure keeps him doing the same job day after day. Velrik is still a childer by all accounts. The other vampires and creatures that loom in this world of darkness are much stronger than him. Yet he battles on, fatefully aware that one day his claws will shatter and the stolen blood will evaporate from his veins.
"The Avenue of Sin"
The World of Darkness and Vampire the Masqurade
was created by White Wolf Studios.
All Characters were created by: Phactorri
Written by: Phactorri
Journal entry #324 April 23, 1997
I turn my head around as soon as the words "Good show kid" echo out among the trees of the forest. If I still had a heart to pump blood into my veins, it would have stopped for a moment, as hairs rose on my neck. My yellowed eyes narrowed in as my nostrils took in the scents of those two behind me. This was a bad mistake. It seemed as though the male hadn't bathed in at least a month. The Waxy face beamed at me from underneath the large beard. I could have pulled off a witty remark, but for some reason as I looked past the burly red headed santa claus and onto the thin female who stood a foot over him, meeting her eyes with my own I said not a word. Then I realized that it could only get worse.
"Velrik, that's your name right?" The high winded female spat into my general direction. What a group this was. I responded in my normal way.
"I guess it depends on who you ask."
"Well Velrik, if that's who you are were your partners."
"My what?" I exclaim looking at this snobby nosed bitch. She had to be kidding.
"Your teammates for this mission."
"How the hell are you two gonna be helping me with this?"
"We actually have a better chance than you do in finding this childer."
"Is that a fact now?" I pause tucking the beretta back inside my flight jacket. "Explain to me, I really could use a good laugh."
"Well me and my brother work for the prince. He takes the low class, while I focus on the upper class. Makes since would you not think?"
"Oh I get it now. And I search from the middle class, and toil right into your prince's hands. This is just bullshit politics. Nothing more. I wouldn't doubt it if there is no childer missing."
"This isn't how it looks man." The bearded man wobbles out towards me. I can see inside his green eyes there is a hint of truth in him. I'm not sure why I feel this way about a brujah.
"Then tell me, how does this dance go then?"
The red headed woman comes towards me now; vivisecting the twelve feet I had mistakenly thought was the privacy line for this conversation. The Woman's green eyes scanned me over as she swayed her hips, the heels she war pushing into the soft mud. "Velrik, it's really not a tough subject were your helpers. We understand it's your case and mission, we've been instructed to help you. Your new to this town, and we have channels you may not have access too. Why don't we compromise? I don't really want to look at the mouth of your berretta like the assassin did." The blabby red head drew in a breath. "How about you come by The Matrix tomorrow, and we can talk about it."
"A time?" I respond to her. I hadn't thought about having connections, or the need in such a case. This could be helpful after all, but this in fact scared me a bit.
"9:30."
Alright I'll meet you there, and I hope you can explain this a bit better then."
I didn't move as the brujah team left me alone in the forest, cutting back into the woods. I let out a sigh, the air dispelled from my lungs smoking as the air caught the feel of the artificial breath. The Sun would be up in a few hours and I still needed to check out the Gangrel Fortress. I couldn't help but wonder what I had gotten myself into as I finally turned my body and began walking back down the path that led me to Roxy's home in the first place. The dirt carved narrow passage must have been a camper trail I couldn't help but think. As I looked at my boots clamping against the ground small white roots of grass, weeds and other flora crept into the brown dirt road.
I hadn't thought about having to navigate through this forest unaided til I came to the fork in the path. One side was back up to the park, the other was another trail, the sign told me enough. True enough I was a Gangrel, but I was one of the few who were citified and new very little about nature. I'd have to primarily use my instincts to get myself to the fortress. Roxy told me to go southwest once I was at the fork in the road. I read the sign again, it navigated that I was already going south so I assumed that southwest would involve a slant. I learned this much from my high school geography classes if anything else.
Sliding into the tall grasses I decided my trip would contain less peril if took the shape that gave me quicker speeds in the forest. Stopping my hike about three miles in I leaned against a large oak, sitting my bald head against the trunk of the tree I closed my eyes. I was not exactly the best at taking the form of a wolf as I was at many of my other abilities I was taught as childer. Focusing my blood into my bowels I formed the wolf image in my head as though I was taught. My bones crackled as the stolen blood fused into my very limbs. Hair began to grow thick about my body as my very bones began to snap and reconfigure themselves. The pain was intense as I changed my shape with my will alone. The wave of pain finally subsided and I opened my eyes once again. It's strange when I take shapes, the perspective changes. I doubt it's not something that many sane individuals ever get use to. And last time I checked I was one such individual. Shaking my muzzle a moment to clear my head of all the new smells and sounds I could now notice, I leaped up and moved to the grasses once again breaking off into a mad sprint.
As I walked alone through the night, my mind was already thinking about what had already went down. The main question still on my mind was how the hell did the used car Salesman know I was in the forest, more so coming back from Roxy's? Why did the man not strike Roxy, and why if she was primogen had she no defense? Yes she was strong, but even the strongest can be outmatched I'm proof that it can happen. I guess as my mind was else where, the guardians of the fortress saw me first, I heard the first savage gowl, before the flaming arrow sliced through the air. Leaping into a patch of thick bushes, I quickly let the blood stem back through my undead limbs, my eyes glazed back over as my spine began stretching back up right. My clothes vaperating back over my naked flesh, I reached in my jacket for my gun. Growling I launched back out of the bushes slipping passed another arrow, extending claws on my right hand I planted my hand into my clanmates face sinking into his skin, slipping my body the first victims neck I pushed myself off of him sending a boot heel into a seconds face. The kindred's nose crumbles on impact. Landing I pull back the bridge on my gun, in a snap. "So who wants to die?" I grinned.
It's about at this point that the others stand quiet as from the roof as a single red haired female slips to the ground. Her grace is unquestionable. Her eyes as they look at me are the same as a man who aided me in a bar fight two weeks prior.This Velrik, my children. Velrik is here to investigate the kidnapping. Isn't that right Velrik? So put away the gun and join us by the fire won't you?"
"Alisha." I growl, slipping my gun back in my pocket. "Yes, I got a lot of shit I want to talk to you about. Maybe you can spread some light on what I've gotten myself into."
Well Vel, I'll do my best."
Now I can't ask more than that."
Next Issue: After a meeting with the sheriff, and the explanations of the night before the kidnappings, Velrik meets back up with his two partners for a tour of the city, and then it's off the prince of the city.