One Hell of a Night (Revelation and Cori)

[Trahir Trahison]

Stepping out from the shop he helps maintain as a janitor, no, custodian (amusing that everyone wants to be politically correct and rename everything), Trahir makes his way down the street toward the bus station. He has no real destination in mind. Being fresh off a fairly mindless job gives him too much to think about, too much time to dwell on things. He is hungry, thirsty actually and is in need of blood.

When Trahir is full he still feels empty, hollow and unsatisfied as though one has done a great feat, accomplished a life's goal only to find the experience anticlimactic and meaningless. When he is hungry, as he is now it's like cabin fever only felt exponentially. It's a near mindless urge. He prides himself on his level of restraint, but in situations like this he finds himself sorely tested on that score. His usually rational mind feels sluggish and there always feels as though there is a beast attempting to push forward, take over his body and run out into the city to stalk and hunt and kill. He heads down an alley moving off of the main streets and looking for a smaller, more isolated district in which to hunt.

His boots make no sound as he walks, years of martial arts training before his death have taught him that a light step can be just as effective as a heavy blow. The art of surprise can be invaluable.Coming to the mouth of the alley he stops, waiting like a spider for a fly to come into his web. It takes about ten minutes by his reckoning, but he hears a door open up and footsteps, heavy footsteps likely male hit pavement. As they come toward him he spins out from the alleyway, grabbing the man and whipping him around into the alley.

Trahir snatches the man's wrist and with an easy flick of the wrist, spins him around and slams him against the wall of the building. Fangs drop into his mouth, slipping down from him gums and he sinks them into his prey's throat, parting flesh as easily as a diver parts the water of a tranquil pool. His lips creating a seal around the wound keeps it clean, barely a drop spilled and he drinks quickly, fervently.

[Revelation (DELETED 6470)]

Jonathan Masterson wasn't a bad man, he wasn't really a good one either. He'd graduated high school as a jock, had picked on the nerds in class, and he had knocked up a girl in his small hometown before fleeing to college promising to bring her to him once he got his **** straight. Of course he hadn't gotten his **** straight. He had fallen into a mediocre job and a work-to-home-to-couch lifestyle which rarely found him without a beer or a joint in hand. He chain-smoked menthols and often reminisced about his glory days on the ice. As a hockey player he'd been slightly better than average, as a student he was a washout. He never finished his first semester, dropping out with the promise to pick it back up after a break.

Five years later he was still in his dead end job, baked out of his mind and stepping out of a club, drunk off his ***. He lit a cigarette, stepped down the stairs of the stoop and started to head home. That's when a hand grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him into the alley. He saw the shape of a slender built man, hair in a Jim Morrisonesque style and then he was face first against the building before he could react with a searing pain in his arm and shoulder. "Dude, I didn't do ****!" He screamed, thinking he was maybe being arrested for something. Instead of an answer though there was pain. Only a moment of pain and then the world went... mellow. It was like people described herion, only orgasmic... It felt so good... his head swam with pleasure as little bursts of light went off in his mind, everything, his problems, his worries, it all just started to fade away, fade away.

Blackness overtook him for a time and there was nothing. Slowly the world began to intrude in his tranquility and then... something else... a taste... a lure... liquid fire racing down his throat, filling him. With weak hands he reached out, grabbing at something, whatever it was this font of nectar came from, latching onto it, sucking at it. He barely was aware of being in motion, being dragged and then... a scraping noise and he was dangling. It felt like he might be flying.

He woke up right before he hit the concrete channel of the sewer below, a shape of a man above him, silhouetted in a disc of light... Jim ******* Morrison... All Hail the Lizard King...

Agony overtook him as the light above him (the moon? It changes like the moon... fading from full to new...) disappeared. Jim Morrison was gone and the fire in his veins was burning him inside out... he was dying...

[Trahir Trahison]

Nature has no principles. She makes no distinction between good and evil.
~Anatole France

As it was with the vampire, Trahir Trahison. There was a distinct difference though between good/evil and right/wrong. Right would have been to stop feeding much earlier than he had. Wrong was the body of the man slumped in the alleyway, chest hitching and heartbeat erratic and fading. He didn't see killing as evil per se, but it was wrong when there was no reason to do so. Wrong because of the secrecy such an act could violate. It wasn't a matter of violating the secrecy of vampires being a moral issue, it would be a mistake. A tactical error. Sighing, totally unnecessary since he doesn't need to breath, more a habit than anything he kneels beside the man and pulls his wallet from his pocket. Opening it he memorizes the name and address on his ID and puts the wallet back in the gentleman's pocket.

The question now was simple enough. What to do about him? An exsanguinated corpse found on the streets was probably not the best outcome. Focusing his will, his knowledge into the blood within his veins, the blood of the big man before him, Trahir brings his wrist to his mouth and bites deep, fang piercing through flesh, tunneling into the arteries to unleash a torrent of blood.

Pressing his wrist to the man's quivering and clammy lips he watches, making sure the flow finds it's way into his mouth. Then he simply pinches the man's nose until he involuntarily begins swallowing and gasping. As the guy's eyes flash open he places his hand over them, obscuring his view and pulls him too his feet, blood still flowing into the dude's mouth, now he's drawing at it...

A feeling of extacy floods Trahir, better than heroin, more soothing. Better than sex, more potent and consuming. It rips through him as he struggles to concentrate on the task at hand. He drags his victim a few feet to a manhole, leans down and quickly opens it and then drops him down. For an instant the other struggles, holding onto Trahir's wrist and trying to pull his new source of ambrosia with him into the fetid depths.

For a moment he sees Trahir's face. More like an instant because Trahir's fist lands squarely between the man's eyes and he is gone, disappearing into the murky darkness below, arms flailing wildly. A splashing thud echoes from below and Trahir pulls the manhole cover back in place. The sewers... not the safest place for a neonate, a newborn... naught to be done of it now though. If anything fate will sort out Trahir's actions. Fate will decide right or wrong. There are plenty of hunters that stalk the sewers. Plenty of feral vampires that live in them too. Maybe the fledgling will find peace in the madness within the bowels of the city. Maybe he'll find death. Either way, good or evil, the act is done and Trahir licks the wound on his wrist, sealing it closed.

With a quick glance around the alley, up at the rooftops to make sure no one is watching or gods forbid - filming - he rises and makes his way from the alley into the streets. Dawn with come all too soon and he must go to ground before sunrise.

At least the evening had been interesting.

[Revelation (DELETED 6470)]

"The ****?" Jonathan thought to himself as he sat up. Blinking as his hazel eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, he tried to remember what had gone down that led him to be waking up in... a sewer? "Aw, naaaasty!!!" Jumping to his feet he notices several things at once. The first thing is he feels extremely... good. The second is he's parched, and the third, he... remembers... some of it anyway.

"Blood... no ******* way..." That explains the faint taste in his mouth, overpowered by the stench of his surroundings though it may be."Gotta get outta here..." Feeling around in his pockets he locates his lighter, moves to flick it and... stops. The thought doesn't appeal... not at all. Instead he pockets it again and fumbles around, finding the rungs embedded in the concrete wall nearby. He starts climbing.

Getting topside he keeps to the alleys, crossing streets with his head down, crowds dispersing at his stench and appearance. Shamed he rushes back to his little dive apartment. How he's gonna explain missing work he has no idea. ****, he's not the best employee to begin with and they were going to ****-can him before.

The shower is like... heaven. It takes an hour before he feels clean, another half hour and the water is cold before he is convinced he is clean. Hell, he is still worried about catching herpesyphilitis or something from being down in the sewers all day... His mind travels back to the incident. Jim Morrison looking dude... pain, pleasure, blood... what the **** happened???

Going to the fridge he pulls out a jug of milk... expired... ****. Trash... Grabbing a soda he pops the can open and takes a sip. Ewwww.... the hell?!? Tastes like piss or barf... he spits it out in the sink and tosses the can in there too. Sooooo thirsty... Maybe Cori, his hot-assed neighbor will have something not out of date (how did that even happen with soda?).

Pulling on a pair of jeans and a Metallica t-shirt he heads across the hallways to knock on his neighbors door. She's always got groceries and stuff like that. Always responsible and put together. Plus as far as eye candy goes she's sweeter than sugar. Not that Jon would have a shot at her. She's well put together, he thinks she's a teacher or lawyer or something.

He reaches out and...

*Knock knock knock*

[Trahir Trahison]

He could have sat and waited at his new progeny's apartment, but Trahir wasn't sure that he'd head that way at all. For all he knew the Embrace may have failed. Or a hunter could have found Mr. Masterson during the day. As luck would have it, the manhole is moving as he nears the area. Trahir ducks into the club that John came out of the night before, counts to thirty, steps out and follows him.

The killer always returns to the scene of the crime. So he's heard anyway. That's how they get caught. He returns anyway. In fact he returns and follows his victim, his new childe through the streets. It's not difficult as people move to get out of the way of the reeking man fleeing through their midst. Eventually he is led to an apartment building and waiting a moment, watching where exactly the man goes, he follows inside. He waits near the entrance though, pretending to be looking through a mailbox at the entrance.

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

Corentine Ann was born in a small town on the outskirts of Bristol Connecticut. She was born into an dual citizenship upper middle class family, her American father was a stockbroker and was gone from the home many a night. Her Canadian Mom stayed at home and tended the house. She was the oldest of two, with a younger sister, by two years. Her life was, let us say, typical. She was raised not wanting for anything… well, almost.

She was a cheerleader in high school and also the President of her class… she was popular and well-liked by all. All but one… Cori was not happy with herself. She always felt, even though she had all that she needed and desired… that something was missing. Cori was bored… not the type of bored where you take a nap and rise refueled and ready… the kind of bored that can only be sated by change.

Cori went to UConn and majored in law, with a minor in women’s studies. Her goals were lofty but came easily for a girl like her. Opportunities knocked at every door for Cori… alas, she snubbed her nose at them all. They weren't what she wanted and surely were not what she needed.

It was one late March night that Cori had an epiphany. “**** it,” she whispered to herself. With that single exclamation, Cori began to pack and prepare. Her first step was to tell her parents she was leaving for the City... to explore and find herself happiness. Most young women would be frightened, even intimidated… but Not Cori. She knew what she was capable of and her thirst for excitement and change drove her… drove her to a place that she really was NOT prepared for.

One month later...

Per usual, Cori is tidying up her apartment… not that it is needed. It was nearly a month since she moved from the suburbs to the big city. Her desire to experience new and exciting things brought her here and she hoped that these exciting “things” would soon rear their heads. Alas, nothing beyond the mundane, as of yet. Her daily consisted of getting up in enough time to shower, get dressed and maintain a level certain level of professionalism (as far as her outward appearance goes). Then it’s off to the law firm... where she recently got brought on as the assistant to one of the head partners. Was it her dream job? Certainly not. But surely a means to something bigger and better… or so she thought. Working for nine plus hours a day, taking orders… getting him his coffee and lunch and having to hear him call her by her given name, Corentine. Which, each time she heard it… she cringed. She tended to disconnect while at work... she played the role but was not invested. Why should she be, she thought. She was not an assistant, she was a leader. After work, it was the usual stop at the grocer to pick up dinner. Cori did not eat out much, as she found it wasteful and costly for a woman in her position. She had plans, goals…she wanted more and buying out nightly was not in the cards for her. She then trudged home, got immediately into shorts and a T… normal attire for cooking. That was her daily… this was her life. She wondered, at times, if moving to the city was beneficial… if the choice she made would bring her all that she desired and, in her mind, all she deserved.

As Cori stirred her pasta… she heard a knock at the door. With a loud sigh, she walks over to the door... unlocks the two deadbolts and opens the door.

[Revelation (DELETED 6470)]

Jon grins as the door opens. He's always thought his smile was one of his best features liking to think of it as disarming and attractive. "Heya Cori! I was um... just wondering if you had any milk? The stuff I have is like, out of date or something... I must not have read the date when I bought it and..." Realizing he sounds nervous and he's babbling he stops, gives a little sheepish grin and a shrug. "You know..."

Professional women always made him nervous, reminded him of his own mistakes, there were plenty to be reminded of. He runs one hand through his short brown hair unconsciously as he continues, using the motion to veil his checking her out. "Was wondering if I could borrow some?" How are his palms not sweaty? His heart should be hammering but for some reason he doesn't ~feel~ nervous. Like he does, but he really doesn't.

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

“Uh, Hello John .” His demeanor was slightly off-putting… kind of like one of those weird animals at the zoo. The kind you cannot quite figure out, but stare at them, regardless. “Sure, come on in… let me get it for you". As Cori turned and walked towards the refrigerator, she felt a tad uneasy… maybe she was coming down with something or simply tired from a long day. She poured a cup of milk and covered it with plastic wrap. For some reason as she turned to hand John the milk she felt a bit, well nervous. He was unkempt, had a horrific rock t-shirt on and kept smiling… not a kind of smile that was a “Hey, thanks for the milk”, kind of smile. It was one that had something behind it… something that made her curious. She pushes a stand of blonde hair back over her ear and meets his hazel gaze with blue eyes.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” those words came out so quickly… she could not take them back now. “I made sauce and the pasta is boiling and almost ready”. Even as the words came from her mouth… she immediately regretted saying them. Was it mere curiosity or something else… Cori knew she was about to find out.

[Trahir Trahison]

From the entryway he watches his accident cross the hallway out of his peripheral vision. He makes no motion to stop him, he is curious as to how this will play out. Secrecy must be upheld regardless how. There will likely be a carcass to remove and clean up at the least, maybe a different MO of homicide to make apparent. Exsanguinating is not a standard method of murder for humans, stabbings and gunshots are so much cleaner. Pity forensics have gotten so much better at determining whose blood is whose.

The woman's voice, confident at first, strong and self-assured remind him of... he pushes the thought aside before it can fully form and shuffles his feet slightly, mimicking the motions of a living, breathing human before he glances up surreptitiously.

Noting the apartment his childe entered he heads out and goes to look for a fire escape to get a better look.

Around the side of the building he goes and, ah yes, there it is. Fire escape. Up, up, up the stairs we go. The apartment is nice, clean, very contemporary. Not his favorite style. He's more of the spartan sort personally. Still, it isn't galling by any means. Photos of the family are interspersed around the place, reminders of happy times with loved ones. This is a fleeting thought. Trahir does not like to dwell on memories of that sort but it is a source of insight into the lives of others. Also good to know in case they decide to come looking for their missing relative. He'll be sure to get more information later about them.

[Revelation (DELETED 6470)]

"Hell yes!" The words are out before he has time to tell himself to play it cool. Mentally he gives his own forehead a slap and then tries to recover. "Spaghetti's my favorite. My grandma had an awesome recipe for the sauce." Yeah, better... maybe. He shuffles his feet slightly and then steps across the threshold of the doorway into her apartment. Looking around he gives a small nod. "Nice place you got. You've done it up nice."

He motions toward the kitchen, "Anything I can do to help?"