Darkness had fallen upon the streets of Los Angeles. It was the last hours of the night, and soon the sun would turn the streets over to the Humans. For now it was owned by Kindred. The humans knew not, but they were walking in the presence of predators. And they were the prey.
But unlike most of these predators, there were a few who did not go to safety just yet. One of them had just left a cap, paid the fare and now looked out upon the streets of Los Angeles, Santa Monica area. He was a young man. Only about 20… Ocean blue eyes and long golden hair that often went past his shoulders, but for practicality he had put it into a ponytail. His skin was as a gray-pale complexion and he seemed like he could drop to the ground any minute and sleep. He was wearing some worn out jeans and a nice shirt below a warming coat.
He slowly dragged himself along the sidewalk, His head dangling and his eyes half closed. He took a turn down a dark alleyway and leaned up the wall, placing his face into his palms.
"Why" he asked himself. Why did this happen to him?
He was no longer one of the living. He was one of the damned and the fallen. A Vampire, and not just any Vampire, a Ventrue. The most stuck up and snoopy of all the kindred, A Clan born to dominate the minds of "lesser beings".
"I have become the bourgeois of the undead… Why a bourgeois of all things!" he said slamming the back of his head into the wall behind him. It was painful as he had not learned to control his now stronger than human body. He gently rubbed the back of his head to mend the pain. He sighed greatly and rose to his feet again. He had to move on now. He was dead… He would never see the sun again, nor would he see his friends again, or his family.
He frowned and wanted to cry. He, who did not want to show feelings, wanted now to break down in human tears and weep himself to sleep. But he couldn't.
He clenched both of his fists and smashed one of them into a nearby trashcan, effectively creating a great hole in it, and creating a great bleeding wound on his hand. He bit his lower lip and looked upon his hand, the blood richly flooding from it. It only took a minute before the flow stopped and the wound had healed. The boy stared upon the blood on his hand. He could feel the new urges he had gotten, but shook his head. "I won't…." He said lowly but was suddenly interrupted by another voice coming from behind him. "You won't what, huh, Cam?"
The boy turned around to see about three people behind him. The one in the middle that spoke had long dark hair and the two others had short brown hair. All their clothes ragged and dirty and their skin just as dirtied as it were gray. More Vampires.
"Cam? If you associate me with the Camerilla then you are mistaken… I don't want anything to do with those pricks…" The boy answered sternly. He had never liked the idea in life of how a Law could never be discussed or disputed, and these Camerilla had lopped the head of his sire for the reason that "That was the law". The boy almost slapped himself, hearing the word Sire inside his own mind. No one would rule him, just as he would rule no one.
The group was not convinced about his words though. "Don't try that on us Cam Cur… The blood of the cam are running through your veins Now… and we would rather have it decorating the area." The middle one of them said grinning widely, his fangs showing threateningly.
The boy realized now they weren't just ordinary Vampires. They were Sabbat, Shovelheads. Like the ones he had fought against with Jack as he exited the trial. His face grew stern as he raised his hands. "Come then… Take my blood…" he said, readying himself for the fight.
Within moments the three beset upon the boy. He was smashed into the wall, head first and afterwards thrown halfway down the alleyway again. The boy had barely time to react upon his now bleeding head before he was lifted up once again by the long haired one in his shirt.
"Any last words Cam?"
The boy nodded. "I have…FREEDOM OR DEATH!" He yelled into his face before slamming both his hands, each over one of the shovelhead´s ears, causing him momentarily loose his hearing and let go of his shirt. This gave the boy time to step back and place another strike directly into his face before kicking him a few meters back. He stopped a moment, amazed by his own power. He had fought police and gangs while alive, but it was never this hectic, since all his previous opponents were human. This speed and power demanded him to react faster than the wings of a humming bird. He snapped out of his thinking as he noticed a piece of old pipe being swung towards him by one of the minor shovelheads. He was quick enough to dodge the pipe, but not the kick that the other shovelhead had made at the same instance. The boy flew back and hit one of the walls in the alley, effectively stunning him. The shovelheads howled in triumph as they saw their foe fallen, and one of them went to help his fallen comrade. The one that remained walked towards the boy and dragged him up once again in his shirt. But what he had not noticed was that the boy had grasped around a piece of leftover wood and swiftly swung it into the shovelheads face, effectively causing a big bleeding wound. The shovelhead took a step back and the boy swung again. A sickening crack resounded through the alley as it seemed to rupture the skull of the shovelhead, sending him to the ground, moaning in pain.
The boy's victory was short lived though, as he was suddenly tackled to the ground by the other shovelhead. He lost his weapon and looked up, only to have his vision blurred by a huge blow to his head. The pain was immense, and he felt the adrenaline in his body go into overclocking as he attempted to throw the shovelhead off of him. They both struggled like mad dogs, the shovelhead attempting to use his fingers like claws and scratch his way into the boys Flesh. The boy, lying on the ground trapped, attempted to grab for a new weapon, this time getting the lead of a dustbin, quite like comic relief smashed into the face of the shovelhead, causing him to fall off of the boy. He rose to his feet, once again trying to get the advantage, but too late, he felt a sudden stinging pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. The long haired shovelhead had gotten a knife out, and it was now neatly placed into the boy´s stomach. He coughed greatly as he lost all air in his dead lungs and was pushed to the ground again, exclaiming loudly in Pain. His still blue eyes now met with the Red ones of the shovelhead. It was clear that he was angry. "You should have begged for your life when you could Cam!" he said before pulling out the knife again and ramming it into the boy´s chest. A shriek of pain escaped the boy. He looked down himself to see the 5 inch blade sitting well placed, towering over his chest like some lighthouse at sea. It was mere luck that it had missed his heart, therefor keeping him from getting paralyzed. His old bodily reactions to breathe started, as he felt the immense pain of steel on the inside of his body. The sensation of breathing would be a fitting end, he thought to himself, realizing he was as good as done, with the shovelhead now sitting over him. He was at his mercy, and this beast had none.
"I guess this is where it ends… For freedom for dea-"he said lowly, but was suddenly interrupted by a small female voice.
"Hey! That's not nice! Get off him yoo baddies!"
All the shovelheads turned to see the end of the alley and to their surprise saw a child standing there.
She looked as she was at most 5 years old. She had long golden hair and emerald green eyes; she was wearing a black shirt over a small green top, beyond some seemingly new pants and a pair of shoes. The two other shovelheads, both having begun to ignore the wounds the boy had placed upon them though still quite bloodied and bruised, walked over surrounding her. "Looks like we can get ourselves some desert" one of them said smirking. The other one grinned and laughed menacingly. The little girl placed her closed small hands in her sides and made a face, ironically, like an angry mother, about to scold her children. "Don't yoo know it's not nice being thwee against one? ". One of the shovelheads laughed loudly. "We are not being three against one… We are just playing…" he said looking down on the small child. She suddenly lightened up and smiled broadly. "Playing! Relay! Can I play along?" she said, causing the other Shovelhead to laugh as well. "Sure you can" he said looking up at his friend who both found this quiet amusing. The boy looked upon the Child, quietly praying that nothing would happen to her. She was such a cute little girl and he would curse himself if something happened to an innocent bystander while he was still alive, or not destroyed. The girl smiled broadly and went. "Yay We can play!" she said, suddenly jumping over the shovelheads in her way and running over to the longhaired shovelhead, sitting on top of the boy. "I wanna be on his team!" she said smiling. The longhaired violently ripped the knife out of the boy's chest, causing him to yell in pain again. The Longhaired held the boy down by the throat with one hand and pointed the bloody knife out towards the small girl smirking. "Well you don't really have a choice." He said but noticed he gained a mean look from the little girl. "Hey that was not vewy nice!... He is hurting!" she said tapping her foot as an angry mother. The longhaired shook his head. "Enough of this, Boys lets Dust these two before going home!" He said loudly. The two shovelheads obeyed him immediately and walked towards the little girl. The boy´s eyes widened and he raised his voice. "Don't you touch her you feking pric-" he could not say more before his head raised up and slammed back into the pavement again. "Shut up!" the long haired said. Before he could say anything more though, he suddenly felt the immense pain in the side of his face and suddenly flew off the boy, smashing his head into the wall. He looked up through to painfully realize that it was no other than the little girl who had socked him one square in the jaw. His eyes flared up and he jumped at the girl. But she simply dodged out of his way and placing another well fit punch into the shovelhead´s face. The longhaired was sent well away from the boy and the girl, rolling around on the ground, almost tipping over the two other shovelheads. He clenched his fist, thinking that he would dust the girl with his knife like he attempted the boy, but he looked only to see that his knife was gone; it had fallen from his hand when he was knocked off the boy and was now nowhere to be seen. The two other shovelheads beset upon the girl like a pack of wild dogs, but she just graciously dodged and returned the attacks with equal strength of the adult shovelheads.
The boy was resting up the wall looking at the scene with his hands on his wounds. The blood flowed richly but the cuts and damages were clean. They would heal up soon, but he would surely hunger greatly the next night. His eyes were staring upon the girl. She moved quickly and gracefully. Something had caught his eye. It was clear that she was kindred, and a strong one. But why would any Kindred turn a Child, of all things into one of their own? And such and innocent one as well. And despite the three shovelheads were trying their best to Kill her, she simply smiled and laughed as she dodged out of their ways. She was actually playing with them. Why did this bring a smile to his lips? It was a tragedy that a child had turned kindred, but her innocence was so beautiful.
The fight ended and the three shovelheads ended up at the end of the alleyway, being quite bruised and beaten, but still standing. Their wounds were surprisingly clear, considering that a child had made them. They looked with rage upon the small child who still saw all this as playing a game. "YOU LITTLE BITCH!" yelled the longhaired as one of the shovelheads. He turned to the others. "I want that kindred´s bones in a necklace!" he yelled aggressively before turning towards the girl who stood there smiling. "Awwww why you so potty mouthed? It's not polite to swear…" she said lightly jumping from leg to leg on the spot, as to keep the heat up. The Longhaired took a step forward, only to be stopped by his friends. He turned and looked furiously upon them, "WHAT?" he almost yelled into their faces. One of the shovelheads swallowed his spit and reluctantly said "…Night is ending…" they all looked behind them, realizing that dawn would break any moment now. The long haired yelled back into his face. "KILL THEM BEFORE DAWN THEN!" He lifted up one of the shovelheads, by his shirt. The other shovelhead shook his head vividly. "No way man, Screw this, I don't want to be dust" he said before suddenly running off. The longhaired got distracted by this and the other shovelhead ripped his hands off of his shirt, quickly then jumping off to follow his other fleeing friend. "Come back you cowards!" His fury seemed to top with every betrayal of his friends, but it soon was clear to him as well. He would turn to dust if he stayed. He clenched his fists and smashed one of the dustbins nearby. "You two are finished! You hear me! Finished!" He yelled before running off, following the two other shovelheads to get safe from the sun.
The girl frowned seeing the shovelheads leave, taking a few steps forward, and her hand reaching out in yearning. "Wait… Come baaaaaaacck…" she called out after them sounding sad. There were no longer anyone to play.
She then looked back at the boy. He had risen to his feet and his wounds almost healed, but he knew of the dangers that lurked within the next ten minutes. The girl seemed entirely oblivious to the time, and was about to run after the shovelheads before the boy gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He neither would nor could not let this girl turn to dust. "Young kindred, its best we both get out of here… The sun is rising." The girl looked up upon him almost as if he was her father, with a frown and sad eyes. "But Misteeeeeeeeerrrr…. I'm not tired…" The boy could not help but smile as he had had his experience with children in Life. He gently picked her up, despite his pains of his almost healed injuries. "I know you aren't, but Tomorrow, you can get to play some more." He smiled taking her small hand in his own .The small kindred looked pleadingly into the boy's eyes. "Pwomise?". The boy reached out his pinky finger and intertwined it with hers. "Promise" he said smiling warmly at the child. The young kindred lightened up and grinned with glee. "Yay! We can play again!" she hugged him gratefully. The boy then quickly set off, still holding the little kindred in his arms. They only needed to go a few blocks before they were at the Safe house he had been appointed to him by the Camerilla and The rays of the sun was slowly making their way over the horizon. As they turned down the last alleyway and entered the entrance hall of the small apartment complex on top of the Prawn shop they just narrowly felt the stinging feeling of that witch would destroy them given the chance. A great feeling of relief, glided over the boy as he slowly walked up the stairs and realized they were both safe. He slowly opened the door to the apartment, and looked around. The apartment was extremely small, but luckily had blacked out the windows with black shudders and pieces of cloth. The little girl jumped down from his arms looking around and smiled. "Is this where you live Mister?" she turned her eyes to the boy. He nodded in return. "Now I do, yes…". The girl ran over and sat herself down on the bed, taking the sheet and rolling up a bit, creating a small comforting cave in sheet. She giggled lightly from within the sheet. The boy shook his head smiling and slowly walked over to the fridge, opening it and examining the content, three blood packs and some old pizza, surely from an old human occupant. He pulled out two backs and walked over, handing the girl one as he smiled. The small kindred´s eyes almost glowed with glee as she took the blood pack. "Fank Yoo! You're Really Nice!..." she said before sucking on the blood pack as human children would take a soft drink with a drinking straw. The boy felt some warmth reach his heart a bit. He had always loved children and their innocence. He opened his own blood pack and suckled on the straw, slowly getting his fix. The relieving sensation of his now only source of sustenance came well greeted. He had forgotten his former resolve not to drink. What was important now was to live, let unlive. The girl then stopped drinking and looked up smiling at the boy. "What's your name mister?". The boy looked up and returned the smile. "I am Andreas…"
"Hello Mister Andreas… I'm Ashley!"