Wayland looked at the guy just as the girl moved from his hands, he could tell in his eyes that the guy wasn't going to just let them walk away... There was also something about him that seems awfully familiar... He turned and took a few quick steps to catch up to the girl, walking in between her and the building with the sniper. He didn't even glance, let alone speak to her for a good number of steps, his nose picking up the scent of the guy from before still... What if the guy was trying to set up a shot for the sniper...?

No... There's no way a sniper would hold up on a shot for that long... Hundreds of questions popped up into his mind, though they were quickly swept away as he felt like they were being followed... They had gone a distance and the guys smell was still there... He turned his head torward the girl, though he masked his face with a warm smile, "We need to get out of here asap... The pup's still following us and I dont know how much longer the bird is going to be forgiving..." He made up different names for the two, namely to not freak out any others who may be walking by them.

He slowly turned his head away from her and looked around at the passing establishments along with the ones they'd be passing soon. The stench of the werewolf was all too tempting to track and dispose of... but safety precautions were recuired at this point and time. He counted the alley ways, singling out one which he was deathly familiar with. He leaned in close to her ear as they walked, "Two more alley ways and I want you to duck into that one... Just follow me... alright...?" His voice was smooth and soft, yet it had an almost demanding tone to it, his eyes, though red, showing a faint trail of concern.

Anabelle smiled again, taking his sparse words as a warm invitation. She sat down with him at his table and Marty, annoyed, brought her coffee and her plate over. She beamed up at him as he flunked in the table testily.

"Thanks Marty," she said. He made a hissing sound.

"Whatever, sugar." and proceeded to attack more dishes.

"I'll be leaving a tip..?" testing if this would improve his mood. He flipped her off, grinning at the same time and she knew he was somewhat back to normal. "You can't stay mad at me!" she informed him.

"Can anyone?" he brought over fresh coffee and filled up her cup. "Your like sugar you make me sick, but I love you, I don't get it. You want more tea?" he asked the pale boy, a little shortly. Anabelle laughed as Marty stormed away to get more without waiting for an answer. She then turned her attention back to the newcomer.

"So, you've never been here before? Maybe you're not from around here. You must be new!" she held out her hand to him from across the table. "My name is Anabelle, Ana. My parents and I run an occult shop down the street. You're definitely not from around her I can tell." she looked at his eyes.

"Your heritage...I've read about it in a book...I can't really pin it, but I know I have. Where are you from?" she didn't mention how pale he looked in case he was sensitive. He was fairly handsome and she felt drawn to him, more so than normal people drew her, although she couldn't pin what it was about him that she liked.

Ivan Hurstwell was walking home. It was late, and the silvery moon hovered over the rooftops, casting it's spectral light over the scenery. His mind was wandering, and his hand rested in his pocket, clutching a small box. What was in this box? A ring. And engagement ring, to be precise. Tonight was to be a special occasion, for, after two years of dating, and five months of living together, he was going to ask Sheila to marry him.

His footsteps echoed in the darkness, and the streetlights standing at regular intervals served to throw his features into sharp contrast as he passed them. He whistled quietly. Then...he felt something, and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. There. Movement, seen briefly out of the corner of his eye. It was just a fleeting glimpse, but it was enough to set his nerves on edge. Something was following him. Stalking him. And he knew not what.

There was a rustle of fabric, and a soft footfall behind him. So quiet, so slight, that it was on the edge of his perception. His courage failed, and he broke into a dead run. His feet pounded against the pavement, and the buildings flashed past him. He could not hear any sounds of pursuit, but he didn't expect to. Whoever, whatever was following him seemed to have a supernatural talent for silence. Onward he ran.

There, to the left, an alley. Maybe he could duck into it, and his pursuer would pass him by. He made the decision, and threw himself sideways, into the darkness of the alley. He rolled, and leapt to his feet, and stepped backwards, facing the entrance to the alley. He stood absolutely still, listening, trying to breath without making a sound. For several excruciating moments, nothing seemed to happen.

Then, a soft sound, from directly behind him. Before he could turn, thin but incredibly strong arms wrapped around him, and threw him to the ground. He rolled, and lay there, staring up into the shadowed face of his assailant. It was a man, middle aged, with stringy black hair and a scraggly beard. His eyes were an unnatural shade, a very dark red, and there was a look of madness about them. The man spoke.

"Eh, wot's this then? You're just a boy! Not that it changes anything. A man's gotta eat, and I never was one to deny myself good food," and so saying, he gripped Ivan's arms, pinning them to his side, and tilted his head, mouth slightly open. There was a flash of sharp white teeth, and then he bit into Ivan's exposed neck.

Ivan made a muffled cry, but couldn't wrest himself from the man's iron grasp. "No...you..." he struggled feebly, "Sheila..."

The man paused in his drinking, "Sheila huh?" Crimson liquid dripped from his lips.

"M...my wife," he managed. A burning sensation was spreading from a focal point on his neck.

The man hooted, "Wife!? Ha! You're just a kid. You'll be saying you have five kids and a dog next."

Ivan managed, with great effort, to reach his hand into his pocket. He then withdrew the hand, clutching the small box. The man glanced curiously at him, and took it. He opened it, and a knowing smile spread across his face, "Ah...you were going to propose, were ya?" He scrutinized the young man, his eyes brimming with insanity. "Mayhap you aren't as big of a loser as ya look." He licked his lips, removing traces of blood from them.

"Tell ya what, your blood don't taste as good as I deserve, and I'm not all that hungry tonight. So you're in luck! I'll cut ya some slack." He looked again at the ring, and pocketed it. Ivan tried to cry out, to say that he couldn't take it, that he mustn't take it. But he had not the strength.

With a grunt, the man grabbed Ivan's ankle, and started dragging him down the alley. Nearby was a towering dumpster, old and rusted. Random graffiti was spray painted along the side. "Shit Happens" it said, in balloon letters. Irony. Heh.

Without any apparent effort, the man hurled him into it. He landed among several bags of garbage. A couple boxes and other things that had been lying beside the dumpster followed, landing on top of Ivan and hiding him from view. Then there was a brief silence.

Several sharp clangs resounded on the side, the sound of the bearded man rapping on it with his knuckles. "Hang tight there, kiddo. You've got a mighty rough three days ahead of ya." Then there came a soft chuckle, and the sound of his receding footsteps. Silence fell once again.

Ivan tried to get up, but his limbs felt heavy, and the burning sensation was becoming much more pronounced. It now coursed throughout his entire body, like fire in his veins. He tossed and turned, causing himself to sink further into the garbage. He though he was going to die. And funnily enough, he thought right.



For an unknown length of time, he drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he heard people nearby, but he was unable to call out. Nobody discovered him. Pain coursed through his veins, reaching unbearable levels. Thankfully, when it became too bad he fainted, and so gained a temporary escape from the agony. But then he would regain consciousness again, and the pain would assail him once again. It went on for what seemed like weeks, an eternity of torment.



Ivan woke up. The first thing he noticed was the quiet. He decided that it must be the middle of the night, maybe early morning. And he noticed another thing. The pain. Or the lack of it. The pain was gone. Whatever had happened to him, it was past now. He turned over, no small thing to do while buried in a pile of trash, and gathered his legs under him. He managed to stand, and the garbage fell away from him, exposing his face and upper body to the still night air. He took a deep breath, and realized something odd. He hadn't been breathing. At all. And he hadn't even noticed until now. Quite strange.

"What the..." he muttered, and gripped the sides of the dumpster. His surprise grew as he applied force, and his whole body flipped out of the dumpster, and into the air. He performed an awkward back flip, and landed, squatting slightly to absorb the impact. "What the hell?" he said this time finishing his sentence. Where did that come from? It was like he weighed only a couple pounds. He had just meant to clamber out of the dumpster, nothing...like that.

Before he could think more about these things, another sensation assaulted him. Pain. A clenching, clawing, gnawing pain in his gut. It felt like hunger, but very strong. He doubled over, and then the pain passed, receding back into a dull ache. He needed food, he decided. He had been in that dumpster for several days. Possibly more.

He looked around then, and his nose twitched. What? He could smell...something. It was strangely familiar, but he couldn't place it. It was...metallic...earthy. Could it be...he shuddered, and wondered if something terrible had happened nearby. Then, almost against his will, almost involuntarily, he turned, and trotted down the alley towards the scent. He couldn't help it, he was compelled irresistibly.

He moved down the alley, turned right, and set off at a brisk run, following the scent. There. Several yards ahead, a short figure stood leaning against a street lamp, swaying slightly. A...a drunken bum? Ivan was feeling very strange. He could hear...a sound. A thumping, and he knew at once what it was: the sound of the man's heart, beating in his chest. If he concentrated, he could also sense the blood, coursing through veins and arteries. And there was something else, too. Something that disturbed him very much.

Ivan realized that he was salivating heavily.

The drunk swayed on his feet, clutching a half empty bottle in a paper bag. He took a swig, and belched loudly. Ivan couldn't understand it. He felt repulsed, and at the same time horribly attracted. He drew closer to the drunk, and struggled with himself, trying to force his legs to carry him away from there. But he was powerless, it seemed, to the uncontrollable urge rising up within him. His will breaking, he leaped, and crashed into the man. They both fell to the pavement, and Ivan easily pinned the drunken man down.

Then, hardly believing what he was doing, he started to feed. He bit into the man's neck, his lips scraping against several days growth of whiskers. He bit down, and his teeth ruptured the skin. A rush of warm, utterly delicious blood gushed into his mouth, and he began to suck greedily. Warmth rushed down his body, and several blissful seconds passed. But deep down, he was utterly horrified.

A moment more, a last gulp of the thick liquid, and he was finished. He stood, licking his lips, and then the madness seemed to pass, and he was in control of himself again. He looked down at the man lying broken against the ground, and anguish welled up within him. He had killed a man. For there was no doubt about it, he couldn't hear a heartbeat. It had ceased, for there was nothing left to pump. He had killed him.

Ivan backed away from the corpse, and a shot rang out. Something whistled past him, clipping his shoulder. He spun and fell, collapsing heavily on the ground. He wasn't particularly hurt, but the shock of being shot served to stun him momentarily. Footsteps thudded heavily, and then a figure stood over him, face masked by the darkness. "You shouldn't have done that, vampire. Not on my watch."

An iron toed boot smashed into Ivan's face, sending him sprawling across the concrete. It hurt like hell, but for some reason, it didn't seem to have done any real damage. "Ungh..." he groaned, and tried to curl into a fetal position. "Oh no, you're not getting off that easy, blood-sucker," the man grunted, and he reached down, grabbing Ivan's shirtfront. Ivan felt his heartbeat, so close...but he stamped down on the urge as hard as he could. Whatever happens, he couldn't kill again. Never again.

The man held held him suspended, nose to nose, and growled, "We civilized humans don't take kindly to murder." There was a scuff of material, and the soft ringing of metal. The man held up a long knife, horribly sharp. "Now, how about we do a little test," and he grinned, thrusting the blade into Ivan's gut. Ivan yelled as the sharp pain lanced into his stomach. Then the man raised the blade to eye level, and Ivan stared at it, fascinated.

The knife was bent, as if it had been shoved into an anvil. The man grinned wider, "Ahh. So you are one of them. Ha! Well then, I know just what to do with you..." and there was another sound. The man raised a second blade, only this one shone with a different light, and it smelled...bad. The man chuckled, "Know what this is, don't you? Made from one of the only materials that can pierce your kind's flesh. And let me assure you, it will hurt like nothing you have ever felt before."

At that moment, Ivan jolted from his stunned state. His fingers curled, and he lashed out at the man's face. His fingers scratched across the man's cheek, and the flesh yielded easily under his fingernails, digging furrows in the skin. The man howled, and staggered back a step, clutching his injured face, and at the same time, releasing his hold on Ivan. Taking his opportunity, he ducked and rolled, getting out of arm's reach.

He leaped to his feet, and darted away, moving at a speed that surprised even him. In less than a second he was several yards away, moving at top speed. There was a growl of anger behind him, and another shot split the night. It whistled past him, close to him head, but he ducked, and ran faster. A wrathful roar echoed after him, "That's right, run, you little shit! But know this: there is nowhere you can go where I can't find you! And when I do find you again, I will kill you, and everyone who tries to protect you! You're damned, you hear me?! Damned!"

Trembling with pent up emotions, Ivan ran on, following a haphazard path among the winding streets. He fervently hoped that he didn't meet another human, because then he might kill again. And again. He knew how strong the urge could be. And he knew one thing: he was not strong enough to control it. No yet. Maybe in time, if he didn't get himself killed in the meantime.

As he ran, he started looking at street signs, trying to find a name he recognized. He would go home, and tell Sheila everythi -- wait. He halted. He couldn't go home. That man...what he said...Ivan didn't know what skills he had at his disposal, but he was pretty sure that his threat was real enough. And what if he himself...killed her? Could be control himself? He doubted it. He doubted it very much indeed.

He ran onward, blindly, barely registering where he was going. Nothing mattered now. It seemed that his whole world had been torn apart. Could he ever go back? Maybe. But at the moment, it seemed very unlikely. She would think he had died...or that he had left her...

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he made no move to wipe them away. His hand went to the stone hanging on a cord around his neck. Green, like her eyes. She had given it to him, months ago. He squeezed the rock hard, then feared that he'd break it, and released his grip. It was the only thing left to him now.

Still he ran, sobbing quietly. Rarely he showed such emotion, but the events of the last few days (or weeks) had almost broken him. On he ran. Wishing the darkness to swallow him up, wanting it to embrace him with oblivion.

Bella continued walking, maintaining the charade that she was waiting for the other vampire by keeping a slow pace, hanging back until he managed to catch up. She could still feel the eyes of the human drilling into her back, but this time she gave no sign that she noticed. She had to try and get him to lose interest.

When he did catch up, mere moments after she walked away, he took a position between her and the building where the sniper would be waiting. “Chivalrous.” She said quietly, far too quietly for the humans to hear, knowing it would just sound like regular conversation to him. She didn't know whether or not he would try and go for the shot out in the open like this, with so many witnesses. She didn't know exactly how they worked, but she was fairly sure the government didn't want the issues with the vampires and the werewolves exposed any more than the vampires themselves did. With this in mind, she was fairly certain that he wouldn't try and knock them off right out here in the street. Too many questions would be asked. It was just a matter of getting far enough away before the crowd of people began to thin.

“Two more alleys and I want you to duck into that one...Just follow me...Alright?”

Eyes like liquid topaz flickered over to the stranger, tightening a little bit as her face hardened. She didn't feel particularly comfortable traveling around alone with this guy. Their kinds didn't often mix, though it was far from unheard of. Mostly it was because of their lifestyles; animal-eaters were able to stay in one place for much longer, and tended to live in larger groups. Human-eaters normally had to move around a lot, and their groups were smaller, rarely more than three at a time, if there was a group at all. However, he seemed trustworthy enough. At least, she knew he didn't want to be shot any more than she did, and when it came to a common enemy, your choice of diets made little difference.

She saw the alley he meant, and as they approached it, she prepared to slip inside. However, at that moment, the breeze touched her snowy cheek and she caught the scent of yet another vampire nearby. A tiny frown tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyes flicked back towards the human, still following them of course, for a fraction of a second. He was walking into more and more danger every moment.

The next second, she saw the source of the new scent. A male vampire, running full-out down the street towards him, his expression distraught, anguished. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything; Bella frowned. The sniper was nearby. He was making himself an obvious target.

Stepping away from the other vampire and the alleyway, she slipped in front as the young vampire passed, gripping his upper arm and holding him there. She got tugged sharply for a moment, and she flinched, a sharp intake of completely unnecessary breath showing her surprise. He was...strong. Incredibly strong. He looked so...slight, though.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to run away, she stepped in front of him and looked him in the face. His skin was pale, his features lovely, his body cold, and the sweet vampiric smell surrounded him. He was clearly their kind, so why did he seem different? A moment later, she caught it. Very faintly, he smelled of human, and his eyes, seeming to her full of misery, were brilliant red, much brighter than they ought to have been.

As soon as it came to her, she frowned, gold eyes narrowing slightly, though not out of anger. This was just extremely inconvenient. “A newborn...” She murmured, more to herself than anyone else and nearly silent. She stared at him for a moment, then quickly glanced around, and back to the other vampire. Finally, she looked back at the newborn again. “Look, this really isn't a good place for you to be right now. There's this guy up on a roof back there, and if you run past, he's gonna blow your head off. Don't ask why, because you probably won't have a clue yet, and I'm not about to spend half an hour explaining to you here. Just follow us and pretend like you know where you're going.”

She said it all quickly, very quickly, far too quick for a human to catch, but she knew he'd catch every word. Then her face flashed into a bright, welcoming smile, and she embraced him, as if they were old friends. Then she gripped his wrist, firmly so that he couldn't run, and began walking back to the other vampire. “Let's get going; Find us a safe way out of the town here, then we'll head back to my house. We've got to figure out something to do about this guy.” It was rare that newborns were left to fend for themselves. They were volatile, unstable, a huge risk to the secrecy of the vampire community. Whoever had done this had been extremely irresponsible; they'd have to figure out some remedy for the situation.

When the woman had stepped in front of him and stopped him, gripping his arm, he was surprised. The sudden deceleration served to knock a bit of sense into him, and he came out of his anguished stupor. He stared at her with frightened eyes, and he searched her gaze. Her eyes were golden, and strangely beautiful.

Her skin was extremely pale, and there was a...scent about her. It was completely different from the human scent. Then he noticed something: his own arm was palest white as well. Was he...whatever she was, was he one as well? His mind whirled, and he recalled what that man had said. He had called him a vampire. A blood-sucker.

She frowned, as if thinking, and he heard here say, "A newborn..." very quietly, so that he wasn't quite sure if she actually said it. She looked around, and then started speaking rapidly. Surprisingly, he understood every word she spoke.

Then she gave him a dazzling smile, and hugged him. His body stiffened, surprised. What... She gripped his wrist then, and led him to another person standing nearby. This one also smelled strange, like the girl. "Let's get going," she said to the other, "Find us a safe way out of the town here, then we'll head back to my house. We've got to figure out something to do about this guy."

Ivan wanted to ask questions, but it seemed that now was not the time. He followed, partly because he wanted answers, partly because there was no where else to go, and partly because she was holding his wrist, and he would have had to work hard to break her grip.

Felix watched what happened. A new person joined the group. Some guy, not much away from Felix's own age. The lad was caught by the female vampire and Felix noticed they were communicating. Nothing really caught his ear as verbally sensible. He watched with very curious eyes. The new guy had the same allure as the others! No... it was different still, but an allure all the same.

Felix grinned he couldn't help it, he really couldn't. The feeling, he was terrified and he had no idea why. None at all. This urge... my gods I can't stand it anymore! He thought. And with that he made a hop and clapped his shoes together. He was having the time of his life with just following them. Tension... it amazed him. The pressure he felt. He could no longer just follow. His grin was so full on his face, he wasn't even trying to hide it.

"My, my... What the hell is this! Are you guys having like some convention here?! I find nothing like you guys my whole life and suddenly there are three?! And two days ago, my, two days ago I saw..." He was yelling at them, but stopped, he didn't want to think of what he saw. He could now determine it was probably a human, a human dying to one of these things. He started to walk faster, overcoming the pace of them. He was closing the gap in between.

His voice lowered, to make less a scene. He was about five feet now. "And what was that back there? Huh? Why did you suddenly turn and run? No. Don't answer that. I think I know. Haha... what unnatural things. You guys are amazing." He was being sincere. Nothing joking in his voice. A grin still there.

Wayland paused as he heard the quickened footsteps behind them, and though he really didn't want to stop... He turned in place to watch the female grab what seemed to be another vampire by the arm and stop him in his tracks, nearly. He immediately caught his eyes and cursed under his breath, knowing his actions as to helping others could potentially get him killed one day...

The guys eyes brought back millions of memmories Wayland would only like to have surpressed... Though they flared in the back of his mind... When he entered his room for the first night after gaining control of his body... Those same colored eyes stared back at him... The girls screams, the lack of heartbeat, the extasy of the night, his strength, the lifeless body which he held in his arms... Everything which he felt rushed back to him and attacked him relentlessly, though Wayland quickly grabbed hold of himself, shaking himself mentally.

As he waited for the two to follow him into the alley, he heard the voice of the guy again... This voice, he figured, would bring a vexed attitude about every time he heard it. He Stepped forward and in between the man and the other two vampires, glaring at him. Anyone else would turn tail and run with this look he was giving him, though he had a feeling, from his actions, that wouldn't happen that easily...

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop following us..." His voice trailed off as if to say "or else." His once amber eyes swam with the red from his recent kill, though it was gradually wearing off. He wouldn't kill a human straight forward unless given the need to... If this person insisted on trying to reveal theyre secret... He didn't really know what he'd do right now, but there would be some problems and that was for sure...

Benjamin snarled as they rounded a corner. How was he supposed to aim properly on the other side of a building? He ran from rooftop to rooftop making his way down to the street. He kept his hands on his pistols. He had to leave his rifles behind as much as it pained him. He couldn't afford to try and be athletic with a sixty pound attache case.

Benjamin followed them from building top until they turned into an alleyway, and dropped in quickly on a rappel rope. Quickly unlatching it as he hit the ground, he pulled out one of pistols. These pistols were huge, and it was impossible for a human to hold something like this in only one hand. They were made mostly for long range, but at short range, they would quite easily blow a hole in somebody's body. The recoil on these pistols was enormous, and he really only had one good shot to spare. He faced the female vampire and the new arrival and held out the Casull.

His finger was on the trigger. He was shaking. Adrenaline was pulsing through his system as he breathed hard with his gun in hand. This was the most action he had been a part of in forever.

He pulled the trigger, letting the loud explosion of his gun ring through the alley way.

Felix stopped near a two feet in front of the man. A big man, he had such a frightening feeling. Like a beast watching in the distance. Felix smile went away and a curious face came across him, he tilted his to the right in an angle. "You have to put an if statement in front of an else. Poor syntax." He made a programmers joke, kind of on the fly. He didn't care if the man got it or not. Looking up at him and then to the man in the back. "Red eyes? And the female with gold? I don't know my occultist stuff well... what are you werewolves? Vampires? I mean the guy behind you is covered in blood. But if I had to guess... Vampire. The girl felt like a hard rock when she bumped me. You all have a 'smell' to you."

Felix was just pulling things out randomly. He didn't know anything about vampires or werewolves. He was just guessing. Putting logic together. Red eyes didn't sound very werewolf like and he really had no clue what causes red eyes, all he knows is that they were sometimes categorized to vampires, in fiction. He didn't even know if his words were true. However they didn't deny it. They didn't push him off as crazy either. What was going on?

"But I wasn't really interested in you, more of the girl behind you." He shifts his body, so that she is in view. Ignoring the man in front of him. "Can I least get a name, oh creature of the dark? I am Felix." He was still anxious but he didn't really know what to do. She was the first one he saw tonight. And her allure was much better than theirs.

And then a loud crack. A gun? Felix backed up and put a hand to his revolver. He didn't point it at anyone, but he was confused. Energy... making his adrenaline already in full. The gun was still under the cover of his shirt.

The moonlight made it’s way in through the window opening beside Julius, creating a line of light across the dark room. Only the silhouettes of the furnitures were visible from bench that he was currently sitting on. Pearls of sweat made their way down Julius’s bare, muscular chest and a silent groan could be heard as he lifted the dumbbell yet again. He lowered his arm and placed the piece of equipment on the floor beside him. His shoulders becoming relaxed as he tilted his head back and inhaled two long breathes. He placed his feet next to eachother and stood up slowly, grabbing a white towel that was lying on a smaller table beside him and wiped his face with it.

He cleared his throath and walked up to a closet in the corner of the room, which was almost blue from the light coming in from the window that was now behind him. He opened it and picked out a black shirt that was lying on the top of a perfectly shaped pile. He pulled the collar over his head and shoved his arms out through the two sleeves. He grabbed his hair and used a grey cord to tie it up. With long steps he left the room and entered the kitchen.

There was no clutter as far as the eye could see, only the necessary kitchen tools had been taken out and laid neatly ontop of the counter. The kitchen was newly renovated which gave it a slightly modern look. Julius grabbed a glas out of a cabinet, which was made of dark pine. He filled the glas with water and swallowed most of it with only one gulp. Without putting the glas down, he wiped the water off his mouth with the back of his hand.

After placing the used glas in the sink, he made his way into the hallway. His gaze searched the rectangular room before he spotted his boots. Dried mud was clutched to their soles. He lifted them both with one hand, using his thumb and index finger to pin them together. After sliding them on to his feet and tightening the buckles on the sides, he went for his jacket. It was a leather jacket, not particularly new but still not too worn out. He pulled it on, fixing the collar as it had folded itself in the back of his neck.

On the other side of the room there was a chest. It had a pattern on the lid which seemed to have been carved out by hand. It was old. There was a large padlock on the front which Julius had the only key for. He opened the chest and with excited eyes, he gazed at the weapons infront of him. With curled lips and a slightly wrinkled forehead he chose the Mossberg 500. He mainly used this one for special occasions but today he wanted to feel the way he always feels when holding the shotgun of his – in control. It made him into the hunter, rather than the hunted and that’s precisely what he needed on this particular day.

After locking the chest, he stashed the keys underneath a smaller lamp that was standing on the floor next to the frontdoor. With the determined steps, he left the apartment and ran out into the night.

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Outside the City

It was 3 o'clock at night; Light from the full moon was streaming down through the treetops, illuminating the land with strange, wavy shadows. A slight breeze was swaying through the forest, the leaves rustled in the wind and their shadows danced across the dirt-bare forest floor. In the air, a faint smell of ozone hung, along with a haze of pollution and smoke from the town and neighboring city, whose lights were a faint glowing haze of yellow in the horizon.

The werewolf released a frightening snarl into the air, and brought it's claws down across a tree. As the magical claws slashed into the dead wood, the tree splintered and seemed to explode, before crashing to the ground with a thud and a 'crack'. A swirling cloud of leaves flew into the air, carried by the wind and flung by the force of impact; They carried for a distance, before falling as the wind died back down. Anton watched this from his hiding place at the crest of the hill, slowing tracking the movements of the werewolf with his scope.

As the werewolf vented it's rage on another tree, Anton missed into his mic. "Bravo-Three, Mortars, Wolfie is go." There was a muffled bang to the right of Owen and a bright white flash in the air above him; A cloud of raining fire, White Phosphorous, streamed down from the sky. The burning white substance steamed down from the sky, lighting trees and dead leaves where it hit, and igniting the matted fur of the werewolf on contact.

The werewolf and ripped it's claws into another dying tree as the white fire charred it's skin and burn it's fur. The entire creature was on fire now, a flaming pyre of it's own death; It would heal, but not before several chucks of lead would safely enter and exit it's flaming body. Anton hissed into his mic again, "Bravo-Two, Wolfie is Burnin.'"

Several loud 'cracks' split the air, and the werewolf was no more. Four .50 Cal. bullets had blown into it, all snipers; Chucks of flaming flesh and organs were splattered across the forest behind it, and the werewolf was kneeling over. It's stomach was splayed out behind it, and over it's heat, the entire section of chest was missing. It howled a pathetic scream, and fell.

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((God damni it so maany post in one night...arrgh..how can I keep up not to mention get involved ?))

Rain just sat there for some time ignoring his surroundings. His day was exhausting and he needed a place to lay his head for tonight at least. The trek exhausted him to the point of not really caring about much at the moment. He stood up from the bench and lazily started walking towards the nearest hotel. He still had some cash left and it should be enough for at least one night since he wasn´t really planning on staying longer so he just walked seemingly aimless. The town was filled with life but somehow it didn´t concern him.

“Man, if only I wasn´t so tired” he sighed to himself as he walked. After some time he finally reached a nice looking hotel and after all the formalities he slowly made his way up to his room. It was nice and cosy looking room in gothic style and it cost him less than expected so he still had some cash to spare for future uses. “I swear to god I´ll kill anyone that disturbs me” he said to himslef making a personal note.

Step, step, step. Van casually strolled through the city, camouflaging into the hordes of people heading their separate ways, living their lives. His head bent towards the ground, his hood up hiding his solemn eyes. He was in a deep battle. What had happened yesterday? This morning, he had awoken to an unlocked chest and a trail of dead leaves leading from the window to his bed. When he observed and discovered drops of blood and two used bullets in the shrubs. That was why he hated sleeping. He couldn't recall doing anything last night, but yet he knew. He knew that something had occurred.

Van massaged his temples and rubbed his eyes trying to sort up this mess. But then, right that moment he heard an earsplitting roar. It wasn't much of a roar, more like a boom, as in a gun shot boom. Van's heart thumped faster and he found himself pushing through the crowds of pedestrians and trying to locate the origin of the sound.

The scene was... unusual. There were a few pales figures standing next to each other. Vampires. But wait, Van's eyes cleared up the mess a bit, one of them was a human. Van bent down, lifting up his jeans revealing dual FN Five-SeveN . Yes Caedo and Eversor were there, loaded and cocked, ready to be fired. He pulled down his jean, hiding the guns and stood up straight. One leg followed by the other he headed towards the group.

Although he made no facial expression that would cause her to believe it, she sensed that he was distraught somehow...or at least something wasn't right. She stared into his eyes, narrowing hers just a bit. What was it about him that was so familiar. While munching on the rest of her meal she contemplated the boy.

"Kurt Cole, huh?" she smiled a little. "That's a nice name. It's very concise. Kurt. Straight down to business no dilly dally kind of name." she smiled a little wider at her own joke. Marty came back with more tea, only to noticed, to his great irritation, that Kurt had not finished the first glass. He cocked out one hip and flew out one hand gesturing wildly.

"You could tell me if you weren't going to drink it so I wouldn't have to bring it. I am a busy man!" he took the old cup away, leaving the new one and huffed off again. Ana looked mortified by his behavior and covered her face with her hands.

"He's not always like that!" she pleaded Kurt's forgiveness with her voice. "He's just...had a bad day." she finished lamely. She didn't know what Marty's problem was, but for some reason she really didn't like the newcomer to their little cafe.

"Look, Kurt," she said suddenly. "I know I just met you and I probably sound like a crazy person...but you look like you are all alone. I don't think I'm wrong...and maybe you want to be. But if you just feel that you have to be...no one does. It really doesn't matter who you are. Everyone needs friends...or even just someone to talk to." she fished through one of her belt pouches, dumping a bunch of things on the table as she did so. Little packets of Caraway and Buchu as well as a fair amount of chicory and a little bungle of sage. With it were knives of different shapes and sizes with carved handles. From her seemingly endless bag she pulled little pieces of quartz in various kind, obsidian, and moonstone. Normal things also came out of this bag like lipstick and a set of keys and needle and thread as well as many other sealed pouches. She made a happy noise and whipped out a card, handing it to him.

"This has my name and our shops address. Really, it's just over there, you can see it from here," She pointed out of the window, "but there's the address anyhow. My parents live right above it and I live down the street. So if you ever want to talk. Just come by. I work every day after three until nine...I volunteer at the High School nearby during the school day, and you can find me there too, ok, Or even after nine at the shelter down on Main. If you want to talk...or anything." she looked at his face and grinned, smiling in anticipation of her joke "Just don't be a killer ok, my mom would be pissed if I brought a serial killer into the shop." she considered him for a moment.

"Nah." she decided. "You don't look like a killer to me."

Kurt felt the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips. How apt. Although this was not really a rule, Kurt leaned forwards across the table to ask. He was very traditional and hardly ever killed people in their homes, because of the old fable about vampires.

"I'll only come if I'm invited," he said quietly.

Don't ever invite a vampire into your home.

An old rule, and one that no longer carried any weight, but Kurt's traditional methods led to him following it. If he wasn't invited in, he would not enter. Crossing his arms across the frilly white tablecloth, he leaned back against the chair and watched her carefully. There was definitely something that seemed to draw her to him, but whether that was because she had read his name in connexion with a murder from long ago, or whether it was something else entirely, he didn't know. But he liked her, and he was getting to know her, and in that way he felt entitled to feed from her. He would do it honourably, of course, as he always did, but he would do it all the same.

The streets were quiet on this particular block. Only distant sounds could be heared. Julius ran in a slow pace down the road from the building he currently lived in. He wanted to get closer to the city, where he was more likely to find what he was hunting, at this time.

He held the shotgun close to his body and once he reached the more crowded streets he hid the weapon beneath his leather jacket. He started to slow down and walked more in the same tempo as the people surrounding him, trying not to bring any attention to him.

He decided to stop at one of the corners of a medium-high building. His gaze searched the masses infront of him, searching for something out of the ordinary. His eyes stopped at a group of people on the other side of the road. Their alluring movements told him that they were anything but human. His eyes narrowed and a unwanted moan escaped his mouth. He never enjoyed finding vampires, even less when they were around other people.

One person in the group caught his attention, a younger man. They have a human among them. He felt the rage build up inside of him as he slowly made his way across the street between them. As he got closer to them, he noticed the only girl in the group. Golden eyes. Since when did animal-eaters and human-eaters become buddies? Julius realized how ridiculous the question was. Blood suckers were all the same. As in they all deserve to die.

A chill crept up her spine, causing her to tremble at the intensity in which Kurt spoke to her. For a moment she almost stood up and walked away, she almost bolted from the room in urgent rejection of the danger she felt. She twitched upward, but forced her body back down into the seat and breathed in deeply to calm herself. Alert to danger, but unwilling to let it get in the way of possibly helping someone, she decided to stay.

Her eyes fluttered, blinking rapidly as she attempted to chase the demons out from behind her eyes.

"Of course you are welcome. You have to wait to go into the shop till it's open of course, but you can come by my house any time. I'm really hardly there except to sleep. But there's a key under the mat." she was nothing if not welcoming. And while she sensed that this boy was dangerous, she couldn't get over how alone he seemed. She touched his hand, which was cold as ice, but rather than pulling away at the cold, she gripped a little tighter as if to warm it. "Everyone needs somewhere to go, to feel like they have a home, right?" she looked back at him, giving the same intensity with her words as he had given her. It was evident that she was not a normal human, though obviously not a were or a vampire.