I awoke to find one eye curiously closed over and unwilling to open. I sat up and pawed at it and my nails came away with crusted pus. "Oh God," Kent stammered from one side of me, before vanishing with his ever useful Toreador speed. Next I heard the muffled sound of vomiting coming from what I assumed was the bathroom and I frowned. Wasn't my fault one eye was no longer like the other.

I rubbed at it roughly until the pus finally broke free and my vision was returned, though somewhat distorted. I stood up, thirsty, annoyed and anxious to leave the judgemental asshole. Now, now, let's be friends, he let you stay, he even shared the bed, not like him to share. Well, the voices were right as usual I supposed, Kent had been kind even if he had done it in an asshole manner. Still, I was very thirsty. I headed through his luxurious bedroom, jumping and turning to the front door when it knocked. How peculiar, was this how the doors talked? I grinned back jovially and rapped my knuckle upon a posh looking, wooden table. Was it one knock for hello or two? I gave two.

"Hello? Master?" The nervous queries of the fiery haired ghoul! Ah was the door now master? No, she must be looking for the three named poet, was the nasty door telling her to leave then? I hurried forward, wincing slightly as my leg buckled slightly with the effort, grasped the handle and turned.

"Open now, hostile door!" I commanded. The door, meek in my presence, swung open bringing young, ample breasted and sweet blooded Heather into my vision. "Raven writer!" I greeted merrily. Bump, bump, bump. Her heart beat faster in my presence, anxious Ghoul, delicious Ghoul, yes I was thirsty. I had been burned, the blood had been poisoned, so thirsty, then imprisoned, barely fed, then bleeding, thirsty again and burning until I had returned to the starry land. Still, two packets of aged vitae had not been enough, needed something fresher and warmer.

"Heather," Kent greeted from behind me before clamping a hand upon my right shoulder and pulling me back. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you master," she explained, bewildered and yet in awe. She sighed dreamily and I frowned once more, the doting slave could have been mine if the crypt keeper had not interfered. "My master," she murmured softly, "I missed you, make me feel the way you did, please," she begged, "let me have a taste, and see the sparks."

"I could make you see sparks," I offered, "I see them all the time, red, purple and turquoise." I tried to step forward but Kent, ever the spoilsport, pushed me back.

"The only Ghoul you're feeding on is that eccentric zombie shooter," he commented sternly. "Beautiful Heather," he addressed her tenderly, "I will give you what you want but first excuse Ariadne." He glanced back at me pointedly with his gentle grey eyes and shuddered.

"Ah the beast has worn out its welcome," I lamented coldly.

"No," he protested, "but if I give her my blood in front of you it's only going to make your thirst worse, you should curb it before you frenzy. Go and find someone to feed on but be subtle about it, and I will see you at Isaac's."

"Always the Pinocchio," I commented sorrowfully before stepping past Heather.

Outside Hollywood was as busy as ever, the usual riffraff, locals, wannabes, real Bs, and a few Cs mixed with eager slutty party goers. Ah so many varieties to chose from, how could I limit myself? Yet I had to be subtle, had to behave, do it quick. Seduce? No, she's looking at your claw, he's looking at your eye, everyone's looking. I scowled back hatefully, I was the freak again, the deformed, misshapen tragedy. I shook my head, can't think like that, father always said buck up, back in the saddle, yes, let's ride this unicorn. I drifted up the streets to the Sin Bin, could always find someone lingering outside there, down the stairs, lower ground, in the shelter by the seedy door. Yes, always a pervert or two, drunk, stinking of smoke but full of blood. I spied one, a balding, round faced man, he sensed my descent and looked up, first cautiously then excitedly. Yes, see only the woman, not the freak; see the fair skin, the youthful looks, not the claw, nor the eye or the swollen knee.

I did not bother with seduction, I failed at it with Christopher and the humiliation of that still tore through me. I just smiled brightly, let him lean to me and plant a sloppy, beer soaked kiss upon my cheek before my fangs met his neck. He groaned and moaned as they all did while I sucked, greedily pulling at as much blood as I could.

My flesh was burning! The fire raged over me without warning, melted my skin, charred my bones and fried my skull! I screeched in pain, grasped at my body with my hands and wailed. Burning, blazing, I was an inferno! I was bleeding, it was leaking out of me, it was escaping! No, I was dying! Permanent this time! No! "NO! NO! NO!" I jerked back from my babbling victim, had to find the Baron, he would make it better, he had to! He could not spurn me again, not again! I staggered up the steps, the burning was ceasing, a dull throb now, flicker of heat against the limbs, bearable but irritable. Ah he was there in our minds, the scarred child, he was there, the voice on the web called to him, he would come, he would purge!

Butter the bread men, butter them good, shan't do to eat them without! Down the familiar seeded streets, past the usual groups of glittering, gleaming tramps and trollops, the pretty hangers on, drug users and abusers loitering near The Asp Hole, all wanting to seduce and change the broody fallen star within. He would burn too, we would all burn together! Out with the bad, yes spit it out, hurl it out, paint the road carmine with the tasty poison. I retched with a painful gasp and heard a cry of alarm from behind me.

"Are you alright? Fuck that's blood! Do you need an ambulance?"

I glimpsed concerned eyes of brown that filled with a small flash of horror when they saw my pallid face but there was no disgust there. A nice Kine at last, pity I had no time for him, no the grains are falling down the glass, the burning is spreading. I hurried past him and continued on.

I reached the jewellers at last, once my home, now only a reminder of all that was lost. I stumbled in and met Romero and dear mad Alex. "Where's the Baron?" I choked out.

Alex grimaced slightly and glanced over to Romero. "Welcome back," my beloved redhead greeted gently, "it's been a while."

I nodded, couldn't be rude but had to be, never learned manners did you? "Where is Isaac?" I asked as I grasped my hair with both hands and shook. Better now, the blood was working, yes, satisfying the thirst, the burn was gone, twas all but a nightmare, yes, it was night after all. Ah but no, most of the blood was gone, just a temporary fix at best, let too much out, didn't keep enough in. A horrid, deceptive contradiction! Bad girl, why did you throw up dinner?

"Ariadne," Alex addressed me calmly, "Isaac is next door, dealing with business."

"Or avoiding her," Romero spoke up gruffly.

Alex glanced back at him and then smiled kindly at me as he stepped forward and reached out a hand to me, taking my still normal one in it. "You were gone a while," he mused, "we were all worried."

"The Baron wasn't," I grumbled, "I'm already dead and gone to him, he avoids only a ghost."

"That's not true," Alex argued sternly, "Isaac is ruled by his emotions, it is the curse of the Toreador, we are vain yes but loving too, it can be a cruel combination. He loves you still and always will but what you have suffered and continue to suffer, it hurts him too much to see."

"It hurts me to bear it," I retorted childishly, "hurts without him, burns inside, it's burning now. Where's the Baron? He makes it stop." I jerked back from Alex and clutched my head as sparks danced there. "Makes it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"

I screamed as flames licked inside my skull and tried to break free from Alex's sudden, secure grasp but Alex's grasp was tight. For a moment we whirled across the room together as I tried to lash out at him and he dodged. He was certainly fast for a false Toreador, no wonder his deception fooled even him. Romero knew better than to interfere, Ghoul or not he was no match for me. Did Alex not understand? It had burned, oh I was thirsty too, the blood had gone, vomited up in the street, down an alleyway, lost as visions of the burned one plagued me.

A frenzy came upon me, one of anger and thirst. I attacked with all I had, lashed out with my claws, there were bats, there were screams, darkness, a soothing bird, a scorning Toreador, a vision soaked in red, laughter, tears and giggling clowns.

"Ariadne!" My Baron, his beautiful voice called to me and furious as it was I was pleased to hear it. I reached for him with a groan, trying to spy him through my working eye but he saw only my flaws and pulled back with a scowl.

"It hurts! HURTS!" I yanked at my hair hard with both hands, trying to pull the child from my minds. Uproot yourself fiend! Vision! Nightmare!

"Shit," ever eloquent Kent's voice rang out over my screams. I was tiring now; I had exerted my powers, turned the office room into a tip, made Alex's hair scruffy and turned his lip bloody. The desk was in two, the chair upside down, and the bin a ball of mesh. I saw Isaac's unimpressed stare, he could have restrained me, he should have but shock and disgust had prevented him.

"Kid what's going on?" Kent demanded.

"It hurts," I stammered as I rolled my eyes at him, "when I feed, when I think, the blood burned my tongue, shouting in my head, too noisy, the ancient child, he's coming, he's coming!" I grabbed at my hair and screamed. Ginger came to restrain me or perhaps console, brave Toreador either way, but I shrugged her off and lashed out with my hallucinations, see real swans wretched bird! Why would they not listen? Why would they not help? I was so thirsty and I ached, the fire was everywhere, the blood was poison. A warning, a lesson, or a mad creation? 'Perhaps you are doing this,' the voices suggested, 'it's all in your head. Making it up, making it real, silly child, go to sleep, the bed bugs only bite the weak.'

I felt warm, strong arms around me, risking hurt to try and help me, the only one in the room who wasn't revolted by my looks. "There crazy cat," Romero murmured in his usual gruff but kind manner, "it's all in your head, just the usual trick of your clan. Just relax." He let me burrow against him and obey. I shuddered as I smelled his blood, heard it beating just below the skin, it was so tempting; I cursed the Baron and myself. Don't bite, the Baron will get angry, nip the Ghoul and he will see you parted again and ban the Ghoul from you.

"Poor girl," Ginger sympathised, "perhaps there really is an ancient. She is terrified Isaac and her kind have a strange insight to things."

"I want Rob!" I wailed. My big brother, a Gangrel, he wouldn't be vain, he would hold me, or would he? He was different now, we both were, I wasn't Sarah, would he protect Ariadne? Could he? He wasn't the Baron, only the Baron soothed the voices. Yet he was still my big brother! "I need him! I need Rob!" I screamed. He was tough, resourceful and as cunning as a Gangrel could be, and he could detect danger, yes he would protect me, he must! He was young though and no Baron or Prince, certainly no ancient but whom else was there?

Romero held me tight though I could have snapped his arms off me easily if I wanted to, instead I remained selfishly in his grasp, needing his comfort and a place to hide, to sniffle pathetically and moan.

I do not know how long passed, hours perhaps, maybe just minutes. My thirst had grown but I was ignoring it, the grave guard and I were on the floor now, he was propped up against the wall cradling me patiently. At some point Kent's cold hands had squeezed my shoulders and he had murmured quietly, "kid I'll look after you." He was baffled, they all were, awkward Toreadors, too proud to abandon me but too sickened to do anything.

"I am sorry Ariadne," Isaac addressed me calmly, "for my treatment of you, though it does not excuse your wanton destruction of my office. So many ways now I have hurt you," he continued, "and so many ways you have hurt me too. It has been a destructive relationship, though passionate but...I love you still, it pains me and you, but I cannot help it."

I shook my head hatefully as I glowered at him, though it was hard as my aching eye was leaking once more. "You spurned me!" I snapped. "I went to the devil's den for you; I risked the paranoid prince's wrath for you, all for you! And what did I receive? Beatings and abandonment, accusations of treachery and looks of revulsion- my thanks for my service, my reward for my love!"

"Settle crazy cat," Romero tried to calm me, "you have a point, I get it, but it's useless shouting about it. Just calm down for a moment."

"He's right," Kent spoke up and I felt his hands weaving through my hair loosely. "You're...well you're even more mentally fucked than usual tonight, you need to get a grip on things, well as much of a grip as one of your lot can manage. One thing at a time Miss batshit crazy, you were fine when you woke up, did you feed on some drug addict or is there a full moon or some shit?"

I shook my head. "I went to the trashcan of sinners, took a bite on a pervert and then...then it burned, and I saw the blackened child, a vision, he does not grace the starry land yet but he will, the assassins, make the blood sickly, tastes foul to the tongue, made me ill. I'm so thirsty now, my tongue is dry."

"Er..." I sensed Romero's heartbeat hasten just a little, enough to garner my attention. "Maybe you should...stand for a while," he suggested lamely. I could smell his blood, thick in the air, close, too close, ah I was in such need.

Kent seized me before I could give in to my longing and yanked me to my feet. "I'll take you to feed and then we will go find Rob, alright?" he suggested waspishly. "Maybe you'll calm the fuck down then."

"Where is Rob?" I demanded as I tried in vain to shake free from his grasp on my arms.

"He stays in my shack," Romero answered, "he said there were less assholes in the graveyard," he added sardonically.

"A most charming neonate," Isaac grumbled wearily.

I looked the Baron's way again and stared at him pleadingly. "You make the voices quiet," I said, "you can make it stop. Please, make it stop," I begged.

I grew hopeful as he extended a hand but then his condemning golden gaze fell upon my ruined eye and his hand dropped away. He would never have me back while I looked this way.

"Take her to her brother," Romero grumbled as tears started to trickle down my pale cheeks.

I let Kent pull me out, allowing Alex to open the door for him and accompany me out. The redhead looked at me with worry and pity and a subdued form of the revulsion the others bore. He was too Toreador to ignore it but Malkavian enough to not be dominated by it. "It wasn't my doing!" I snapped bitterly. "The flesh crafters did it!"

"Shush," Kent retorted angrily, "you're drawing attention." He released one of my arms, linking with the other in an attempt to appear normal. Of course when a group of silken dressed beauties spied us and stared at me in disgust and Kent in mockery, he tensed up and shook me off. "Come on," he grumbled, "let's get you fed, stupid Malk, you never feed right."

"Don't bully her further," Alex scorned, "she cannot help what is happening to her."

"Of course not," Kent grumbled sardonically as he led the way on. "Drinking from seedy perverts, fuck knows what he had in his blood, probably has made her crazier. This is just nonsense."

"You know it's not," I hissed at him irritably, "you know I went to the Giovanni and saw what I saw! You his highness wouldn't have me chasing myths!"

Kent turned a grey glower on me as a crowd of teens paused to look our way in confusion and curiosity. "Alright!" he replied heatedly. "I know," he growled, "you saw something that means bad news for the lot of us. You shouldn't have went there and those Italian fops shouldn't have opened the damn thing but it's done now and if your babbling is to believed we're all going to face Gehenna soon. Or maybe just some pissed ancient, who knows? For now though, let's just focus on getting you fed and back to some pretence of sanity, it's all I can deal with right now."

So we wandered as an unhappy trio, Kent angry, I sad and Alex torn between guilt and pity. Kent led the way to The Asp Hole for 'cleaner victims' and with his charm he lured away three long limbed, golden painted women with long, coiling hair, sparkling eyes and glittering dresses. "One for each," he muttered as Alex joined him in the art of seduction and betrayal.

I wanted to help, to speak honeyed words as I once had to lure victims to me but my confidence was gone and I feared my would be victim would only see my ugly form and scream. So I waited as the men guided our prey further down an alleyway and into darkness and privacy. Then when two though they were kissing, and one remained, baffled and longing, I went for her. I was not as soft as the men; instead I attacked brutally with my fangs, ripping a modest hole to suck her crimson nectar from. I drank deeply until Kent pulled me off, and let visions of Sarah dance through my mind as he scorned before dragging me away from the dazed women.

Eventually I snapped from my memories as we entered the graveyard and descended down the twisting path to Romero's shack. I saw Alex pause and sensed him flinch, there were strong memories here for not just him but Xander too whose antics had once made the dead climb up from the earth.

"Not creepy enough for you artist?" Kent questioned him tauntingly. "Thought you always liked the morbid for your work."

"I do," Alex answered, almost in a whisper as he glanced about him, "it's so melancholy, so many forgotten souls, so many unfinished stories, no painting could ever really capture the pain and loss."

Kent shook his head dismissively and continued walking on, pulling me behind him. "The mangy dog better be here," he muttered.

"He's not a dog!" I protested hotly.

"All Gangrels are kid."

We reached the shack and Kent knocked on the door impatiently. "Gangrel!" he shouted a greeting. "It's us, your sister's back."

The door opened and Rob glared out at us mistrustfully, his lips were speckled in red, he had just finished a feed not that long ago. Somewhere in a shallow grave lay a new member of the corpse clan. Gangrels were always closest to the animal side of the Kindred and Rob had come into this world bloody and vengeful, so hard to curb the murderous side now. "Sarah," he greeted me in mild surprise. He then folded his arms and scowled. "It's about bloody time you returned! I was ready to go look for you, of course these assholes wouldn't let me, and that one," he glared at Kent, "said he would go and find you, of course how could I trust that?"

"Well I did, didn't I?" Kent shot back childishly.

"What happened then?" Rob demanded. "With that key?"

"Bad things," I answered darkly, "the boogeyman's nightmare has awoken and it will purge us."

"What?" Rob queried as he looked at me in confusion.

"An ancient," I answered, "a child of the assassins, son of Haqim who will burn those who do not follow Haqim!"

"Haqim?" Alex echoed. "Who's Haqim?"

"I don't know," Kent grumbled, "but assassins, that would the Assamite clan, though they considered themselves warriors and scholars. Strange clan, nothing to do with anyone, Anarchs, Sabbat, Camarilla."

"Haqim is the father," I murmured, "and the child his prophet."

"Could Haqim be an antediluvian?" Alex pondered.

"I don't know," Kent muttered, "the only one who probably knows anything about him or the Assamites is Beckett. Anyway, let's just forget it for now, kid you've found your brother again, so just chill out for the rest of the night, okay?"

"Isaac wouldn't silence the voices," I murmured, "and no believes that we will burn but we will poet, we will."

"Uh huh. Well Rob, she's been whining for you for a while, so if it's not too much trouble, can you babysit her for a few hours? I have a Ghoul to return to but I'll come back."

"Babysit?" Rob answered angrily as his eyes flashed crimson. "She's hardly a child."

"Oh most definitely in the mind she is," Kent retorted brightly, "as you'll learn."

"Maybe I should stay," Alex offered as he glanced my way, "unless you want privacy?"

I shrugged, I had Rob now but I was still worried, he was not strong enough for what was coming, none of us where. "Stay if it pleases you artist."