Author:Nick Title: Fury of the Beast Feedback: Want it, need it, don't got it. Please send it.
Disclaimer: No cash here, don't ask. I'm making nothing, so there!

Xander ran through the night, away from Buffy, away from his old, mortal life.

Buffy had just tried to kill him.

Granted, he was a vampire, and she thought he was one of the ordinary, demonic vampires that showed up in Sunnydale on a regular basis, but she didn't listen to him when he tried to explain what had happened to him.

She just pulled her stake, tried to justify herself, and attacked.

It was just 'Hi Xander, dust Xander, bye Xander.

He had to leave Sunnydale. As much as he hated this new unlife, he didn't want to die.

Again. He had already died.

He had to keep remembering that. He was already dead. No heartbeat, no life. He drank the blood of others to keep himself alive.

Just like the ugly run-of-the-mill Sunnydale vamp.

He wondered where Christof and Anezka would go. They had that great big mission that would take all of their time and energy, although Xander would be damned if he knew what that mission was.

He stopped, and looked around, realizing he'd just been running without thought as to where he was going. Some part of him enjoyed that, to lose himself in the feeling of freedom in running.

Especially since he didn't feel weary at all, as if he just started running a minute ago.

In some ways, being a vamp wasn't half bad.

He was in the shopping district of the town, all the stores were closed.

Only a half hour walk to the bus station.

He wondered what L.A. was like at this time of year.

Over the next few days, Buffy patrolled Sunnydale, looking for Xander, searching for any sign of him.

After about a week, she finally accepted that Xander must have left the town. Most vampires would have tried to attack her by this point, but he just vanished without a trace.

She also wondered where that Master vampire, Christof, and that woman she found Xander with were.

After the night she found that Xander became a vampire, the pair vanished, as if they never showed up in Sunnydale.

Maybe her reputation was better than she thought.

No matter what the reason was, she was glad.

Another Master vampire was the last thing she needed.

Not to mention needing to kill her best friend.

Xander walked into his apartment, a run-down place in the worst part of town. The slums.

Where people were hurt, killed, and hunted.

By other people.

If that wasn't bad enough, vamps also liked to set up shop in the area.

Luckily, a group of young men had armed themselves to the teeth with vampire fighting gear, and made war.

Xander stayed out of their way, not wanting to be staked.

He looked around his crappy little haven.

A couch that someone had thrown out onto the street one day, a battered but functional lamp, an icebox to keep a few bloodbags in, a couple of boarded up windows, and a small padded coffin Xander hid in during the day.

Not really needed, but it was another layer of protection against the sunlight, in case the boards fell off the window.

His door had three locks on it, to help keep out unwanted creatures.

Xander wasn't certain if the no-invite rule still applied to him, where other vamps were concerned.

As far as he knew, they could walk in without a word spoken from him.

Lucky for Xander, he could walk in anywhere without an invite.

Not much of an advantage, but nice.

He felt the sun set, and he walked out of his haven, the blood in his veins just itching for action.

Xander walked along the street, no real destination in mind. His old wardrobe had been replaced by blue jeans and white shirts.

After all, who had heard of a vampire that wears Hawaiian shirts?

The place was an old neighborhood, built for people with dreams of families and jobs fifty years ago.

Now, it was a slum, where nobody would walk down the street unless they had a deathwish.

Garbage was everywhere, the place offended Xander's newly enhanced senses in just about every way.

He was crossing a street when he heard the faint sounds of a fight down that road.

His instincts kicked in.

He ran down the street, letting the sounds guide him to the place.

He rounded another corner, and saw the situation.

That hunter group, with their truck and a group of vamps.

Six humans, and three vamps.

He saw a body on the ground, and two piles of dust.

Despite the fact the vamps were outnumbered, they were giving a good fight.

One vamp gripped was busy fighting the apparent leader of the group, a tall bald black man, while the other two were fighting the other hunters.

The leader was holding a sharpened stick, using it like a quarterstaff.

The vamp dodged a few blows, staying away from the pointed end of the stick.

The hunter thrust, and the vamp gripped the stick in both hands.

Both wrestled for control, unnatural strength fighting adrenaline induced strength.

The vamp began to get the upper hand, and slowly brought the pointed end of the stick towards the hunter's chest.

Xander ran forward, punching the vamp with all his strength.

The vamp was flung onto the ground, surprised.

Xander jumped on it, hit it a few times in the face with his own unnatural strength, then picked the dazed vamp up with one hand.

Then he threw it onto the wooden spikes attached to the truck.

The creature dissolved into dust.

Xander took a deep breath, and looked around.

The other two vamps were dust, and the remaining hunters were looking at him in curiosity.

"Hey." He heard from behind him.

He turned, and saw the hunter leader looking at him.

"Thanks for the assist. Not often we see somebody charging' in like a knight around here." The man said.

He held out his hand.

"The name's Gunn." The hunter leader said.

Xander shook Gunn's hand.

"Xander. I'll probably see you around."

Xander began to walk away.

Just when he got to twenty meters away, he stopped.

"You might want to use crosses too, these vamps hate the sight of em. They also hurt like hell." Xander said.

Then Xander walked into the night, leaving the hunters behind.

He had to get some more blood.

Xander walked along the streets of L.A, not caring where he was.

He'd fed, and was looking for something to do until sunrise. He always was someone who bored easily. Pity he didn't have many friends to talk to, and Gunn's troupe didn't really count.

He walked, watching the people walk past.

He noticed a homeless guy, who was walking towards some building. He didn't feel right, though. Although he was dressed in rags, something was off about him.

Xander honed his senses in on the guy.

With a start, he realized the homeless guy wasn't a guy at all.

He was a demon.

He slowly tailed the demon, staying quiet, acting like a member of the crowd.

Gotta find a private place to kill this thing, before somebody got killed by it.

The demon walked into an old industrial building.

Xander followed, expecting something terrible, or disgusting, like a human sacrifice in progress.

Anything but what he saw.

Xander's tailing of a great and nasty demon had led him to a place he never thought he'd find a demon in.

A kariokie bar.

There was a furry thing that resembled Bigfoot was on stage singing a Shania Twain song, and mangling it so badly Xander couldn't tell what song it was.

There were various demons and creatures, even some humans, in the crowd. A normal human was tending the bar, looking not at all surprised at the things surrounding him.

A pretty young girl was serving tables, taking orders and running back and forth from the bar to the tables in record speed. There was a green demon sitting at the bar, wearing a suit that was sprung right out of the 70's, watching Mr. Big And Furry on stage.

This place looked like that scene in Star Wars, where Ben Kenobi and Luke went to hire Han Solo to get off that planet.

The green demon turned and looked at him, standing in the doorway like an idiot.

"Well, in or out, don't block the traffic." The demon said.

Heeding this, Xander walked up to the bar, and sat on the stool next to the green guy, still looking around.

"You look like you're lost, kid. What do ya say, go on stage, give us a number?" The demon said, grinning.

"Sorry, singing in public isn't something I do very well." Xander replied.

"Neither does Sorbar there." The demon said, pointing at the furry mass on stage.

The creature had just hit a high note, but it still sounded like a truck backfiring.

The demon shook his head.

"I wish I knew what she was thinking when she picked Shania." The demon sighed, wincing.

"She? I thought it was a he!" Xander almost cried out.

"'Fraid not, partner. That's a she all right. You've gotta learn not to judge by appearances. It's a handy thing no matter what you are." The demon said, grinning.

Xander shook his head, and sat watching the furry thing on stage. He thought for a few minutes, then his curiosity got the better of him.

"Why is she singing, anyway? In my experience, demons usually are too busy going nuts to sing on stage for fun." Xander asked.

"Ah, you really don't know what this place is, do you? Not often I just get a walk in." The green guy said.

"Um, no, don't know what this place is, just followed a demon in here." Xander replied.

"This, is my establishment, Caritias. Call me the Host, everyone else does. The reason they're singing, is because I can tell them some of their destinies, and singing lets me take a look-see." The Host answered.

Xander thought that over for a few minutes.

"Can't you just make em do something less humiliating? I don't think many things like singing in public." Xander asked.

"That's part of the point, you've gotta bare your soul before I can read it, and nothing bares souls like singing." The Host grinned.

"Well, it's a tempting offer, but I think I'll decline for now. I don't wanna get laughed at, you know?" Xander said, almost horrified at the thought of being on stage.

"I'll accept that, most people don't want to." The Host replied.

The pair watched the waitress come towards them, obviously tired from running around all night.

She sat down next to Xander, and gave his a curious glance.

"It's not often we get genuine Kindred in here, it's mostly the ugly ones that show up." She said.

"Yeah well, I just stumbled in the door. I'm Xander, clan Brujah." He introduced himself.
She smiled.

"I'm Lily, of clan Toreador." She replied, smiling.

The pair of young vampires smiled at each other.

"Quite a place, isn't it? Not what I expected from a demon bar. I thought there'd be more mayhem." Xander said, looking around.

"Uh-uh. No fighting allowed in this bar, gives a bad reputation, not to mention I'd have to clean up the mess." Lily replied.

"That wouldn't stop any demons from going nuts in here. I've known some violent demons." Xander said.

"Ah, true. Our Host got a little spell on this place, keeps demons from fighting as long as the contract is on." Lily replied.

Finally, Bigfoot on stage finished the song.

"Well, I'll see you two later, I've got to tell Mrs. Big And Hairy what's up." The Host got up, and went in back.

With that, the Host left Lily and Xander at the bar.

"So what's a Kindred doing working in a kariokie bar?" Xander asked.

"Well, a girl's gotta make a living, even if she's a vampire. This is working out well, pay's not bad, and I hear some pretty funny stories." Lily replied, smirking.

"Sounds like fun, tell me a few." Xander said.

The man drove into L.A ten miles above the speed limit, in an old beat up station wagon. He was tall, black haired, with eyes hidden by sunglasses.

His skin was pale, almost deathly white, contrasting against the black leather trenchcoat and black clothes, made to hide the body armor for his chest and legs.

His eyes had little trouble piercing the night even with the sunglasses on, as he spent most of his time at night, hunting the creatures that preyed on human blood.

Like the one that took his wife one night, five years ago.

It would have killed him too, had he not been quick-thinking.

He drove into the warehouse district, knowing this is where the group he was looking for was hiding.

Damned mobsters.

Turning off the engine, he stepped out of the car, popping the trunk.

He got out and walked to the open trunk, which was filled to the brim with an arsenal that would make any army jealous.

He took two machine pistols, loaded with silver bullets, in case he came across a hostile werewolf, and slipped them into holsters under his armpits.

He took his favorite shotgun, loaded with pellets stuffed with wood chips, and slid it under his trenchcoat.

He then took his favorite weapon for finishing off bloodsuckers.

A long, gleaming katana.

Made in the 11th century by a master swordsmith, it was laden with titanium, and nearly unbreakable.

Of course, that spell of perfection on it didn't hurt either. It prevented nicks and scratches from wearing down the blade, and no matter how long he used it, it remained sharp enough to split a hair in two.

He fixed it and it's seath across his back.

Taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small, plain-looking gold ring.

He slipped it onto his left hand, preparing himself for the side effect.

A wrack of pain split through his body, bringing him down to his knees, forcing him to cry out in agony.

It felt as if his flesh was being boiled, and he couldn't die to make the pain stop.

After an eternity that lasted only fifteen seconds, he rose to his feet.

Standing straight and tall, he ran towards the warehouse, kicking in the door.

The place was full of wood boxes, and there was a small cleared area in the center, some assault rifles lying on the crates.

Six mobster bloodsuckers looked up at him, caught in the act of packing guns, probably to be smuggled out of the country.

Each of the vampires looked at the other, and back at the imposing man staring at them through his sunglasses.

The one closest to the man whispered.

"Hunter........"

One vampire lunged for a rifle lying on a nearby crate.

Quickly, the hunter pulled his shotgun, and shot the vampire.

It went down, paralyzed by the wood chips in it's heart.

Then he turned his deadly shotgun to the other vamps, too quick for even their inhuman reflexes to avoid.

The vamps were paralyzed now, waiting for his blade.

One coughed, and looked up at him.

Must have missed the heart, but hit the belly, rupturing the spinal cord.

Oh well.

"Wh-who are you?" The vampire asked, panic on his face.

The hunter looked down in hate through his sunglasses.

"The name's Nicholas, the Immortal."

He then drew his sword, and swept the vampire's head off.

Well, what do you all think? Any good?
By the way, Nicholas is an original character, I've used him in my games of Vampire: The Masquerade, and he's earned the title he's got.
And no, I didn't cheat, I'm just smart. A smart guy will go much further than a cheater.
Anyway, feedback! I need it! Send your reviews!

Nick.