Jenny came to herself on the floor of the room she had been thrown into. Everything was dark and blurry; she couldn't see a thing clearly. She could identify the huddled mass in the corner as something humanoid, ditto the reclining figure in the center of the room. There were still no windows or furniture, just the room.
Who they were she could not say definately, she reached up and tried to remove whatever covered her face. She found that her hand's motion was restrained, she couldn't move it very well. Gripping the thing that covered herself proved impossible. Maybe this was something of that vampire's making. A web to hold Jenny until she was hungry again, but why not just kill her?
A figure moved silently from out of the wall. Jenny tried to jump back, but found herself unable. The blurry figure held out a knife as he approached her.
"Quiet, girl," the figure said in a distorted but definately male voice. "The Heirarchy will be here soon; not that you know who the Heirarchy is of course." The man cut at something, and suddenly the blurry covering slipped off of Jenny. She could now identify the reclining figure as her own body, already decaying and rotten to her new found senses.
The huddled mass in a corner was the vampire, of course, rocking back and forth and crying out tears of blood.
"They caught one of the newly dead here only recently," the man continued. He was wearing a coonskin cap and a suit of hand-tanned leathers, like something from a western. "Foolish tyrants almost allowed the man's shadow to devour him, and leave him a spectre."
"I'm dead?" she asked. Everything about her seemed to be decaying, except the vampire. The vampire merely looked the same fifteen or sixteen she had before, but now there was something about her that gave the impression of something stale or stretched.
"Yes, you're dead," the man answered. "Now let's move before the Heirarchy comes to induct you to the forges." Jenny didn't have time for a response, the man merely grabbed her and shoved her through the outer wall. Jenny felt disconnected for a moment as she passed through the wall into the outside. The man followed behind her, moving through the wall as if it weren't there. "Move, into the surrounding woods, they won't look there."
Jenny hesitated a moment, considering the way her life had been so unfairly removed from her. It would have been considerate if there was at least something worth going to on the other side.
"You can settle your affairs with the brat later, a death is expected, someone will be here soon to collect you." The man passed her into the woods and Jenny followed swiftly and gracefully behind him. When they stopped she could just barely make out the mansion below them.
Of course, everything looked desolate to her now. Trees appeared hollow and rotting, stones were cracked and dusty. Animals all appeared to greater or lesser degrees as walking corpses.
Car lights seemed to appear at the old mansion they had fled.
"Is that them?" she asked her apparent rescuer.
"Yes, that's them," the man answered. He had an odd accent, almost Southern, but not quite. "As bad a lot as them that were in Texas, back in my day. Worse, in fact."
"What are they here for?" she asked, cautiously.
"To either convince you to join them, or to take you to the forges and turn you into currency, or weapons," the man spoke non-chalantly. "I have to go, other buisness that needs doing."
"So why'd you stop to help me?"
"I was hiding out there when they brought you in," he smiled a little. "Sort of ruined my hideout. I wasn't here for the other, and we can't let them win any battles, not even small ones."
"What can I do?" She paused, "to affect the living."
"You'll have to find that out for yourself girl. Talk to the guilds or experiment yourself. We're all different, and I have affairs elsewhere to put in order. The Heirarchy won't wait around long, and that place makes good cover if no one's about to die. " The man just vanished then. Jenny flinched a little and began to walk back to the mansion, where the car-lights were already fading away.
"Self-experimentation then," she told herself. "No time for anything else." She had always relied on herself anyway.
"Well, now that that's over with," declared Renfield. "I believe that it is time to do some hunting." He rose from his chair and took Lucy's hand as he left the chamber to head downstairs for his motorcycle. "I believe that the Shadowspot would make a good hunting ground, what do you think love?"
"A freakin' good hunting ground, sir," answered Lucy.
"Varney, back to buisness. Mina, keep an eye on Carmilla for us. Thanks."
Then they were gone. Mina smiled as she watched them drive away, Varney in his Buick and Lucy and Renfield on a Harley. Sure, she thought. I'll keep on eye your precious little Carmilla. Her eyes drifted to cabinet containing various tools: scalpels, drills, vises, salt, and, of course wooden stakes. After 17 years as a follower of Renfield, Mina had developed quite a few tricks for causing pain, and she loved to use them.
Jenny had returned in time to see everybody leave on the junk heaps she saw their vehicles to be. Inside the house she found only Mina, appearing over thirty in this new world of Jenny's. She recognized the ghoul nonetheless, how could she not recognize the torturer. Even if her corpse was a thousand years old.
Jenny through herself Mina, the air around her in the Shadowlands virtually brimming with rage.
A whisper of cold wind seemed to pass through Mina then and one of her bottles toppled over and fell to the ground with a crash. Mina looked with annoyance at the mess.
Jenny Simon was overjoyed; she had discovered the first of her powers. Next time she would strike the bitch solid, instead of passing through.
Katrina could hear Mina walking downstairs. Renfield and Lucy were away, for two or three hours now, and there was no reason she couldn't practice her skills on the rather reluctant vampire. For a brief moment Katrina considered escape, but the thought ended as soon as it entered and she resigned herself to a night of suffering.
Why care about her? Jenny's spirit heard. She looked around to see if anybody was with her, but found nothing. She dismissed it and turned to the problem at hand. This girl couldn't seem to hear her, no matter what. Finally, she just lost her patience and roared out in frustration.
"Run!" whispered a voice in Katrina's ear. There was nobody nearby, was she hearing voices now? Jenny noticed the change and excitedly continued.
"Break through the window! Run away!" All that work and energy for a few whispered words.
"Its boarded, I can't break it down." The footsteps were coming up from the second floor now.
Jenny struggled to think of a way to convince the girl to run. Before she had always stirred people with her singing and dancing, but she doubted whether she would be able to do such with merely a whisper.
Still it was worth a try. Jenny thought back over the songs she knew or had written, looking for a song of hope and determination. She focused all her heart into the performance, dancing even when she knew Katrina could not see her. All the other powers she had used had manifested while she was in an extreme state of emotion. She was counting on that, emotion was something she knew about.
The sluggishly swirling colors around Katrina sped up tremendously. Jenny watched entranced as red swirled into dominance over gray and orange, and a stream of yellow worked its way in the field. All the colors were pale and subdued, but so was everything else in this new world.
"You're a vampire, now. Use it." Jenny finished with that comment, hoping it would serve to funnel the invoked emotions into something productive. Of course she had no real idea of what a vampire could do other than the film mythos every American knows.
"But I'll have to come back, he binded me to him." The voice was silent, she had said all she really needed to, and even these small methods of contacting the living were exhausting.
Katrina waited for a response, receiving none. Had she ever tried escaping after she had fed? She didn't believe so, she was usually staked soon afterward. No, all her failed escapes had been made after torture sessions when they thought her too weak. Maybe she could break the boards and escape. Even if she could, how long would it last? She was bound to Renfield by his blood, taken over many days when only three days would have been sufficient. How strong was the bond truly, she did not know.
All these thoughts faded away with desperation and fear when she heard Mina calling from the hallway outside. If not for the words of the mysterious voice she would still have resigned herself to torture, but there was something new in the mix, something she could only vaguely identify as hope.
"Guess what I've got for you, love." There's a pause and then, "What no guess? Why then I'll have to tell you. Its a stake, a nice sharp wooden stake. After all we know how you feel about stakes, don't we love."
Katrina cried in blind fear and ran into the wall facing outside. The brick held, but some of them cracked.
"I knew you'd appreciate it." Mina was at the door now unbarring it and preparing to unlock the deadbolts. Katrina gave another cry, frenzying in fear at the thought of facing a stake. The blood she had just fed on raced through her system as she ran into the window to the left of the wall she had hit. For a moment it looked as though the boards would hold and all of Katrina's efforts would have been for not.
Then they snapped, spilling her out into the countryside. Katrina was up and running towards the city proper as Mina cursed at her from above. Mina rushed downstairs to the remaining car, but it wouldn't start. Looking under the hood she found the problem: no battery. She tripped over it as she was backing up.
Renfield was not going to appreciate this.
The only thing that stopped Katrina's flight was the tingle of Hunger she felt after traveling three miles at a near sprint. She wiped the sweat off of her brow and then recoiled to see blood on her hand. Had she recieved an injury severe enough jumping out the window that it hadn't healed yet? Or did she sweat blood as she drank and cried it? A quick check proved the latter, as no wounds could be found by her hands.
It was late at night, in three short hours the sun would be upon her. She needed shelter, something she hadn't used before. Fortunately, there was plenty to be had in this area, a deserted industrial complex. It had once been some sort of factory that had failed and left its rotting carcass behind to scar the land.
Katrina made a minimal search of the area and found a small office building that would be ideal for purposes. It was a three story, brick affair. Across the street were the remains of a recent crime scene; she could still smell the dried blood even from where she was. The whole thing personalized what she currently thought of the world. Already she could feel the blood inspired loyalty pulling on her to return to Renfield. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there. She had disobeyed her Sire and regnant's wishes, and like the thrall she still was, she began to feel ashamed. How long would it take for that to override her true wishes?
More importantly to her, how long would it be before she needed to feed again? How long before another person must die to slake the Beast's...to slake her thirst?
For the moment she laid these concerns aside as she slipped into her daysleep, her haven as secure as she could make it against probing eyes and burning light.
"So she escaped," Renfield commented. "She's done it before, the blood bond has always brought her back. It will again." Varney suscpected that some unforseen factor had come into play. Katrina had never before tried for the windows, much less the walls. She had been so involved in trying to remain human that she couldn't see her way out of the Box and waited to be let out in order to escape.
"If she doesn't come back, then we kill her and I find a new Carmilla." Varney doubted that as well. His master was obsessed with the girl, and would do anything to keep her.
Bregan couldn't get to the crime scene until late the next day. He was kept busy filling out forms and answering questions. Bregan rankled at being kept back from the investigation, but he knew that this was more necessary than the killing he had his mind set on. This could very well keep Mike alive. Then came his adventure with Lt. Jacobs and a discussion with other members of his pack. They had offered their help in his quest, and he had refused it. There was a vampire involved here somewhere, and as much as he would love to wipe every leech away from Gaia, the garou of San Francisco could not afford a war with them. The vampires held back for the same reasons, neither side wanted their presence revealed to the world at large.
He pulled up slowly, cautious in case a curious passerby should spot him.
He couldn't see anybody nearby and shifted into Lupus form. Dedicated clothes following the change, taking the appearance of fur patterns. The grey wolf that was Bregan sniffed the area out, producing a fairly accurate picture of how events had taken place here yesterday.
It was underneath the smells of gunpowder, his brother, his soon-to-be sister-in-law, her ex-husband, and fifteen cops that Bregan found what it was he had been looking for.
The scent was faint, a physically young girl or woman that smelled of the blood and fear of others. She had crossed this parking lot and the street beyond to the tumble down office building of a former industrial park. She'd been carrying something plastic, a briefcase containing a rifle maybe? Beneath all of this was a slightly stale and old sensation that spoke of tainted blood. The girl was a vampire's ghoul servant, perhaps this Varney character Mike had mentioned in his note.
The Garou followed her scent to the office building and traced her steps, up to the roof and back down. The animal scents of all the strays in the building nearly shut it out, but he found it. At a first floor window he smelled gunpowder residue. This is were the second cop, the dead one, had been shot from, he knew it. There was something else in the building as well, but it seemed as if the rats, cats, and birds were going out of their way to hide the scent. It was there, but he couldn't recognize it, for all that it was more recent than the ghoul assassin's scent.
He decided to search the building, just in case he wasn't smelling things, to paraphrase.
Jaera saw the report in the paper, she didn't have any modern conviences in her apartment, that would give the Technocracy a foothold on her tiny bubble of reality. She couldn't risk that for minor things like television when she had books, video games when she had Do, or temperature control when she had magick to alter her body to be comfortable at any temperature. It was unneccesary for her, though her guests found the apartment somewhat less than pleasant.
The article wrote of how Detective Micheal Rohan, now revealed as a member of the investigation into the drug-lord Varney's empire, had been shot by his fiancee's jealous ex-husband while on duty. The ex-husband had then been killed, after he killed another cop. The detective was listed in critical condition at San Francisco Metropolitian Hospital. She had an interest in this Varney, like Micheal, she knew it's connection to vampires in the form of novel's title. Of course it probably wasn't her current quarry, but she could always use the information later.
The dead cop's body was cremeated immeadiatly following a autopsy by Dr. Emily Grange. Thereby eradicating any possibility that the "facts" of the autopsy would be questioned. Some of the other police officers at the scene thought they had heard a rifle shot rather than a pistol, but chalked it up to stress. The fact only made the press because of the conspiracy theory trend, the media wanted ratings.
For most people, the entire thing would seem to be a suscpicious circumstance, but on which was easily looked over. Jaera saw in it the kind of "coincidence" that mages were skilled in creating through magick. The kind of thing that could happen, but was unlikely to actually occur. It was too tightly wrapped up to be natural, the fiancee's report that her ex-husband didn't seem to remember they were divorced only heightened the artificial feeling of the event.
Jaera knew of only one other group who were as skilled as the mages were in causing such coincidences. Maybe they should be called more skilled. After all they couldn't alter reality as mages could. Either way this was exactly the sort of "coincidence" vampires used as well, though they worked through minions rather than directly.
Maybe Jaera should check out this crime scene before she went to the Shadowspot.
Jenny had been practicing, there was a splintered tree a mile into the woods that could attest to that fact. This time she would give that little monster, Mina some pain. She walked into the house and searched for the ghoul. It was Mina more than the others that Jenny found repugnant. Looking at her was like looking at a hole in the fabric of reality. An aura of solid black around a thirty year old body.
Jenny passed the rotting skeleton that was Varney's image as she went. She found Mina with Lisa near the basement where she assume Renfield slept.
Screaming as she rammed into Mina's small form. The ghoul literally had no idea what hit her, she just crashed to the floor unconcious.
"What the hell is going on here!" Varney demanded as he entered the room. Mina was sprawled out on the floor unconcious while Lucy had drawn her gun and was waving it around trying to find an enemy.
"I don't know!" Lucy shouted. "Mina just fuckin' crumpled like something hit her." Mina started to come around then.
"It's daylight, what vampire attacks during the day?" Mina asked weakly.
"There are creatures other than vampires in the world," Varney commented, as a teacher to a very young child. As if on cue, the door he had come through caught on fire. They quickly put it out, but the desired effect had been achieved. As they turned from the door they saw a piece of paper drop from mid-air.
On it was written: "That's enough for now -- Jenny Simon."
"We're being haunted," Lucy said unbelieving. "That women we fed to the traitor is haunting us."
"Do you think that we have not dealt with ghosts before?" he asked them. "It can't kill our master if we keep a close eye out."
"But I can kill you," spoke an ethereal voice seeming to emanate from the entire room while maintaining the qualities of whisper. Then it laughed as it faded out.
In the Shadowlands Jenny was exhausted.
In the physical world Varney was not impressed.