When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)

[Trahir Trahison]

Up in flames. Trahir agreed with the sentiment. He didn't say anything about it though. He'd already decided the journal needed to go. Jane had spent enough time around him to know that a lack of an argument was an agreement on his part. He made his way along the street with his invisible accomplice. The walk wasn't far, but with the time being near dawn, Trahir broke into a jog anyway. Then a run. Two blocks wasn't far, especially on legs that never seemed to tire in the same way mortals did. His breathing was even, a habit he had know idea where he had picked up but supposed it was muscle memory left over from his days as a mortal. Though he didn't remember those days he guessed he must have been a gym-rat or an athlete of some kind with his physique being what it was. He doubted he had been a runner though, he was too densely muscled. His knowledge of martial arts left him with a clue there though. His athleticism was likely based on one or more style of martial arts augmented with a lot of time in the gym.

The streets passed by on either side of the couple as they made their way to the first house. Trahir hoped the journal resided within. If it was in the house to the south, Celerity would be needed just to make it in and out before the sunrise. So long as Jane was safe from it's scorching rays Trahir was fine though. He had learned, against his nature, to withstand the searing sunlight. It hurt, it scorched his flesh, but it wouldn't truly injure him faster than his vampiric body to heal the damage caused.

He hoped he wouldn't have to put it to the test this morning.

Arriving before the house, Trahir motioned toward it, tapped his chest and made a circular motion showing he was going to cover the rear exit when she did her shadow thing, and then slipped silently down the street to come around from the back. He figured he would be able to see if the humans managed to get up and bolt and with Jane going in the front, he imagined they would have to rush out this way. If they did he would be there wai-

There were footprints leading to the house from the woods out back. Someone was already inside and he had no idea where Jane was.

Hoping that she had ignored his instructions in yet another random act of Jane and had followed him he whispered over the whipping wind. "Jane? There's someone else in there."

[Trahir Trahison]

As the two vampires were approaching the house unbeknownst to the third, she slipped into the second bedroom and stalked quietly over to the bed. The human male was a deep sleeper she guessed by the grumbling noise of his snoring. This was good, it would make her task no more difficult to accomplish than the one moments before which had ended his room mate or sister's life. She brought the blade to her mouth, licking Marsha's blood from the flat of it and closing her eyes, savoring the richness of the bloody delicacy.

The house creaked and the rogue vampire tensed for an instant. She was visible after having executed the sleeping girl in the next room and her reserves of energy were getting low. It had been a busy night stalking the vampire who had in the past sent her to the Shadow Realm. If she didn't have to use up any more of her energy she wouldn't. She did need to hurry though. Being spooked at every noise in the storm's wake was going to hinder her more than help her. No doubt the Killer planned on getting someone to come by daylight and reclaim his journal. That was fine. The cops would either get there first, or even better, they would arrive and catch whatever lackey he managed to find. Likely the tattooed thrall ***** he had attacked her with before. Nicolette if she remembered.

She would love to see that little whore get hers.

Quietly, like a cat stalking a mouse she moved to the bed, blade in hand, the edge gleaming with a combination of her saliva and the blood of the girl. It raised up and the rogue paused, picking her pot carefully before bringing the blade down in a vicious plunging motion, slamming it straight into the man's throat right through the carotid and out the jugular on the other side.

The human starting convulsing, thrashing, eyes flying open as more blood sprayed into the air. His hand groped upward, finding the hilt of the blade sticking out from his throat and he gave it a tug instinctively. A warm of warm sanguine liquid flooded forth and the rogue could no longer help herself, leaning over to partake in the flow of blood streaming from the rapidly weakening, dying mortal.

She lost herself in the moment of the feeding, the blood igniting her body as it flowed in, making her feel once more truly alive.

[Dominique]

While Trahir was making hand gestures and touring the outside perimeter Dominique made use of the shadows concealing her and walked into the house. It never ceases to amaze her how many were not part of the whole locking your door precaution. There were monsters after all on the streets ready to take anyone within reach away from it all.

The front living room was sparsely furnished with a little bit of help from Ikea as well as generations of second hand pieces. Sounds of movement came and went. It was her chance to get her hands on the journal and get out before anything else happened.

Clearing the hallway and moving down towards a room with a dimly lit lamp she quickly stepped inside unseen and unheard. The scent of of Trahir was faint but not difficult to pick up on. It had to be in the room. Carefully she opened drawers and the closets. Each one revealed that it was certainly prized and trying to avoid the random fortunate seeing more empty air.

Dark eyes stilled as she spotted the last place she should have likely looked in first. A few steps closer and she reached down a plucked the journal up from the very spot it had been abandoned. The temptation to skim through the contents entertained her while her efficient steps carrying her shadow bound and free from risk any further.

Spotting Trahir just in time, she pulled a small box of matches. She meant what she had said. It was all going to burn. Memories were one thing. Proof that they happened and the dirty laundry of others thrown into the mix was not going to be available.

“Any last words? You want to do the honors?”

Dominique waited. Finally it all came down to who was going to light the match and send it all up in flames.

[Trahir Trahison]

Trahir tilted his head to the side, motioning to the eastern sky as it lightened. "I doubt, ma cherie, that we would have time to see the job through at the moment. By the smell of blood in the air and the extra set of footprints leading into the house, I think we should away from this place. We can destroy it together like we did the disc, but my immediate concern is for your safety."

The young Killer was unaware if his mate could withstand the searing rays of the sun, he wasn't looking to find out by watching her flawless flesh char if she wasn't.

"Come, we will head to the boat, I have a resting spot in the stateroom that can accommodate us both, if a bit snugly. " He had no problems snuggling up with Dominique. Her presence was some small comfort to him during the daylight hours. Since he was crypt-bound, or at least casket-bound throughout the day his ability to survive in the sunlight was a small comfort. Though he didn't burst into flames of suffer severe burns within it's golden embrace, the act of remaining out of his casket had an equally devastating though less physically apparent consequence. He'd not spoken of it or written of it in the journal which rested in her small hand, but she would likely feel it regardless do the bond that seemed to have developed between them. Mindless fury was one way to describe a casket-deprived Trahir. Wounded predator was another. He didn't feel like giving a demonstration of the ill-effects of depriving himself of his necessary interment.

He starts off toward the boat at a jog, looking back to see if she will follow him. There was gasoline and a bucket with the journal's name on it and a casket with theirs if the beautiful vampiress wished to follow him there.

[Trahir Trahison]

Thirst slaked, the rogue vampiress drew back from the desiccated carcass on the bed before her. With a smug grin of satisfaction and a gore splattered chin she likely looked the part of any number of movie-villain-vampires in the horror genre. Next step was to go and place a phonecall, then head to the sanitary cover due north of the house and disappear into the city's unbelly while the police came and made the asshole Killer's life a living hell. A breach of Secrecy on that level would be damning to Trahir she knew. He had hunted with those holier-than-thou Owls. It would give them a reason to destroy him as they had destroyed her.

In the lightening room her smile looked maniacal.

Walking out from the bedroom she made her way to the common area and reached for the phone next to the...

...where was the journal?

****!

The rogue recovered quickly from her shock and ran toward the back door to look outside.

There he was, standing with a tattooed woman she had seen before. Another woman who had attacked her the same time the Killer had with his thrall, Nicolette.

Grittiing her teeth against a scream of rage the rogue vampire's fists clench in helpless rage.

Like so many movie-villain-vampires in the horror genre, she had been thwarted again.

Now, unable to leave out the back door for fear of being discovered she bolted through the house heading for the front door. Flinging it wide she turned once more to the shadows, rendering herself invisible and fled out the portal, leaving it open and heading north. Deprived of her prize she could only seek the solace of the darkness of the sewers for yet another night and await another opportunity to present itself to allow her vengeance on the others. And when it came, it would be hell.

[Dominique]

The weight of the journal was heavy in her hands when the petite shadow finally stepped on the boat. If it was anything else and made of chiseled ancient stone tablets it would have still felt lighter in comparison to what she held tight. She felt the texture of the cover against her palm and came up with several reasons she used mentally to leave the book closed to her eyes. It likely was a recap of what she for the most part already knew. The rest she could do without.

With light shadowed steps she moved around the deck. There was no rest to be had with the journal intact. She had learned more than Trahir had likely counted on thanks to the lessons in the not so distant past. Taking the steps that would lead to the stateroom below she closed the distance between her and the bar and took the bottle of Bacardi 151 with her back to the deck.

As the cool night air surrounded her she located a deck pail and with it in hand she made her way to the side of the boat. Dominique could feel Trahir’s presence on the move. The heat of his eyes was on her. She was not concerned. Only one thing in her mind would be taking place and that would be a small, manageable yet consuming fire. Once the stench of burning skin and hair faded she would be open to further discussion. Her patience had been tapped and it would not allow her to rest. Trahir wanted her assistance and he was going to get it.

HOPE and LESS twisted opposite directions until the seal on the bottle of flammable amber liquid snapped. As soon as the bottle and lid were separated the fumes of alcohol filled the air around her. With the technique of a skilled bartender the bottle released its fluid content into the metal deck pail beneath. The empty bottle was discarded into the environment conscious receptacle close by. The skin bound journal was settled down into the ample fluid within the silver bucket.

“It needs to be destroyed.”

Dominique’s voice finally lifted from her parting lips as she attached the pail to a metal hook that was secured to a seaworthy chain link. In a rare moment she became lost in her task at hand to the point little of the world around her existed.

Perhaps the chain and impressive hook had been intended for deep sea fishing or for something entirely different. The shadow would hardly know of its possible prior purpose and didn’t care to stop and ask. As far as she was concerned it was now the suspension links to safely hoist the pail up on the windlass which in turn would rely on the boom. Metal links would prevent a flammable path from forming while elevating it to keep a conservative distance between the boat and the soon to be engulfed pail of fire.

“Rest is to be earned, peace of mind a reward.” HOPE pulled out the book of matches while LESS started pulling the out the one that would do the trick. “You will achieve neither with this record still tangible.”

A match was lit with a twist of her wrist and predictably the pail erupted with flames.Like a seasoned sailor worth her salt and gold she wasted no time using her strength to send the bucket of fire heavenward dangling above the restored vessel she stood on. Dark eyes fixed at the obsidian canopy that was showing distinct signs of sunrise.

“Another lesson learned, Trahir.” Her dark orbs fixed on him as her inked flesh once again became visible to his eyes."Pay attention and I may just teach you a few more."

[Trahir Trahison]

Trahir's eyes watched Jane as she moved back and forth, they followed her through all the motions that it took to hoist the pail, now burning with his journal within, ruined as far as reading material goes but still likely worthy of DNA testing out over the water. His skin crawls with the impending dawn, the rays illuminating the sky behind him but not yet able to dip low enough to wash over the two of them.

Any retort the Killer may have to her jab is lost in a blur of motion as he moves to her, takes her around the waist and throws his trench coat over her as the sun finally crests the horizon, sending orange-pink rays cascading over the wooden deck of the boat, covering both vampires in it's rays for the briefest instant as Trahir rushes them both below deck into the cooling, sacred darkness within. Even without the potential of his mate going up in smoke, even knowing he can withstand the sun if need be, he has no desire to watch it rising. Trahir has the Daywalker ability

"I began writing that journal before I managed to erase my memories Jane. I doubt I would have left any clues as to who I was that I don't already remember, but with it gone, I believe that obliterates all remnants of my past."

He pulls her to him then, one arms still around her waist, his motions rough, but controlled, his free hand coming up to grasp her chin and assure her eyes lock with his own. "Apart from the other two humans who may have read it. There were four of them."

With that he presses his lips to hers, crushing her against him as he does.

There would be time to hunt them down. The evidence was gone and, if lucky, the murders would be pinned on whoever the third party who had been in the house was.

Guiding Jane over toward the bed, the vampire pushes the mattress aside, revealing a casket build into the mahogany frame. "Lessons can wait. It's time to rest, beloved one."

[Trahir Trahison]

Both cats stared at the spot on the couch next to him. The young man looked at the space, seeing nothing. He looked back and forth from one cat to the other. Neither blinked. They just stared for two full minutes. Finally, both felines lost interest in the spot at the same time. The young man stared at the empty spot once they did. He could have sworn the temperature in the room had chilled a couple degrees while they had stared at the spot. It seemed to be raising now. He thought he might be going crazy.

He had always preferred cats to dogs. He liked that they spent time when they wanted. He liked that they didn’t chew his slippers. He liked that they basically did their own thing. Food, a little attention, water and a clean litter box were all they needed. At this moment he wished he’d gotten a dog. He didn’t think the cats would be much use if a vampire or worse popped out of nowhere onto his couch. At least dogs might attack them. He’d seen things. He’d seen some really, really fucked up things. He didn’t want to know what the cats had been seeing. He got up and headed through to his bedroom.

After what he’d read in conjunction with the odd behavior of his furry little friends, sleep had been a long time coming. The book was either real of a hell of a good fake. It referenced real life places, events and at the same time the author claimed to be a vampire. He’d listed off names of other vampires in the city though the young man didn’t know if any of them were real or not. He and his friends would have to investigate it.

It seemed like he lay awake forever but that couldn’t be the case as his phone ringing woke him up. He opened his eyes, a challenge with how tired he was, the lids felt like lead and he fumbled around for his phone on the bedside table.

He was greeted by Sue’s frantic voice on the other line. “Walter?!?! Walter!!! Jeremy and Marsha are dead! Someone broke into their house last night and killed them!!!” She seemed to be having a nervous breakdown on the phone while he sat bolt upright in bed and just stared at the wall of his bedroom. Dead. The journal. Walter didn’t believe in coincidences. There was no way the two weren’t linked.

“Are you sure? How do you know?”

“It’s all over the news! Turn on the T.V.!”

Walter reached over and picked up the remote. The flat screen came to life just in time to show the house, definitely Jer and Marsha’s surrounded by cops, the bodies nowhere in sight but the siblings were named. They had already been identified.

Walter stared in shock as Sue cried into his ear. “Sue… I think you should come over. I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of us to be alone right now.”