Realizing I had narrowed my senses so much that I didn’t even noticed the other human there. To entranced by the hunter I missed the real predator. A very large mental note NOT to make that mistake again was created in order my head. A man stepped out of the darkness, tall, lean and obviously healthy. He was carrying a compound bow and a kukri style machete, the bow now slung across his back. He was dressed from head to toe in woodland camo, it fit the terrain and he knew what he was doing. His face was striped in perfect camouflage to break up his outline in the low light. As he approached she hiss in pain and fear. I could see her struggle to move but the arrow pinned her. Finally he spoke.

"Youngling I know it hurts but I will end that soon. Be thankful that I got you before you fed on the third, maybe its not too late for your soul." He raised the machete and with one swing, cleanly removed her head. Kneeling beside her I could hear him whisper a prayer. “May god have mercy on your soul.”

Finishing, he rose quickly moving back toward the shadows. Out of curiosity I followed him from high above, leaping from building to building. He wound his way to an old dilapidated apartment building, obviously still in use but in desperate need of repair. Entering the lobby I tried tracking him but lost his scent in the elevator. When he didn't reappear on an upper floor I figured that only left the basement. I wasn't keen on walking into the basement with no invitation and had no clue who or what was waiting there. Letting it go for the night, working my way back toward the city center, scenting another predator to feed my hunger. This one was older, stronger and more sure of itself on the hunt. This time it was hunting three drug dealers working a corner. The neighborhood was shit which made it easy to find myself a perch. These were projects judging from the smell and noise, a hive of heartbeats and misery sang out below me.

It was easier to watch him hunt this time, he was hunting predators of another sort and it didn't bother me as much. They weren't innocents, they were spreading a poison of their own. Slowly destroying lives, vampires in their own mundane way but just as vile. No, this time watching him wouldn't bother me in the slightest. Maybe that sounds like the monster is winning but having watched crack destroy families my entire life? I cant say I opposed his decision to hunt them. Watching as he leapt and was on top of them before they knew what happened, this was a hunter. He moved with enough speed that only the last man got his gun out, fired two shots. One of the shots actually hit but the hunter barely twitched as the 9mm round ripped through him, than it was over. He fed on all three, cleanly like a trained professional. It was fast, he wasn't a youngling, this was an experienced killer. The guy in the woods wouldn't have stood a chance against this one. The old master had been right, these vampire hunters took younglings, they never reached higher.

When he finished, watching as he used a gun to cover the wounds he left in their necks. Following him, keeping a big gap between us for fear of him noticing. Mostly I tracked him by sense rather then sight. I had this feeling of him, its like scent but more a mental picture. It would have helped if I had known then that he also possessed this sense. Luckily for me Indianapolis's master was a bit paranoid. He just assumed it was one of the master's pets following him out of paranoia. Never once considering that I might be outsider, it just never crossed his mind. Sure of himself he ignored me, only fearing four others from the lair so he ignored me. It never occurred to him to look harder, if he had I think he would have reacted differently. I don’t think you can sense age from it but power I can defiantly feel. If you look at it hard enough.

Watching from 20 stories up as he entered an ancient church. It caught me off guard until I realized the church had long since been vacated. The sign out front read "Law offices of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, everything from Talent Management to Living Wills. You one stop shop for legal services." Laughing at the name...wondering how many actually caught it? He was moving underground, deeper then I would have thought possible from looking at the structure, than again it was old enough to have catacombs. What an ideal lair, lawyers and fiends. The lawyers must work for the master, maybe they had no clue. Maybe they were a version of me, an accountant mindlessly managing the mundane affairs of monsters?

Night was ending, there was maybe an hour or two left. I had enough recon, finding the lair, and the home of hunters as well. Indianapolis would be interesting if nothing else. Back at the bunker with 30 minutes to spare before dawn, thinking about all I had seen tonite and planning for tomorrow evening. Tomorrow I would enter the lair, hit it maybe 3 hours after sunset. A fair amount of them should be out hunting, with less resistance at the start I could take them as they returned. Besides I was really hungry now, it had been 72 hours since the girl. I wasn’t suffering yet but the battle for control was becoming a concern. I had to control it, letting it loose would be the end of me. There wasn’t much of my humanity, but I was clinging to what little was left with every bit of my strength. The beast would not win, could not win.

As soon as my eyes closed, the horrible replay started. All day over and over, being thrown through the window ending with my daughter dead in my lap. The Justicars laugh haunting me as he faded off in the distance. I don't think I woke screaming this time, was the monster gaining? No answers sprang to mind but I spent the first hour awake replaying my memories. Remembering my daughters laughter and my wife’s voice, recalling every detail I could. Each one was a brick to shore up the walls keeping the monster at bay.

Dusk came easy and light. Crawling out of the bunker I could still make out the glow from the setting sun. The sun had dropped below the horizon enough to not hurt me, but it wasn’t fully dark yet. Gathering my few things, slowly planning the evening in my head. Invade the lair of a powerful master, take down most or all of his kin. Gather more information, and hopefully get back on track to find the Justicar and Carnifex. It sounds easy right? Except for the 40 to one odds, should be a cake walk, laughing to myself. Overconfidence would probably kill me one day, not tonite but someday.

Making my way back to the lair just as the last rays of light faded to moonlight. A half moon offering some cold stark light to create the shadows I hid in. Watching as 18 of them left the lair sensing each one. Some moving with the confidence of age, while others were more hesitant. Noting how each one felt, imprinting it in my mind. Now I could find each one again if the need arose and they where close enough. Waiting another 30 minutes before making my way down and entering the cellar door they used. The front door had been tempting for sheer audacity, but not knowing if there were humans still in the building, the cellar door seemed a better choice. Slowly moving down the corridor sensing as I went counting each one and imprinting them in case some of them ran. I could feel the 23 left inside 40 had been a damn close estimate.

Rounding the corner and the first one managed to get out "who are...." before I bit into his throat. Finally satiating the hunger that had been haunting me for days. I could hear the rest now, they knew a real predator was here, the game had a changed. In retrospect they probably hesitated because they suspected this was a challenger to their master. In which case they where not supposed to interfere, a master held territory by their own power alone. Figuring they were all waiting to jump me at once this sounded like fun. Overconfidence is an interesting drug just so you know.

Strolling through the heavy wooden doors, waiting for them to make a move. All of the remaining 22 now ringed around the room, the master standing in the middle. He was old at least 400 years, proud, confident and powerful. So certain he was strong enough to hold his city, completely discounting me as a threat. He had surprised many challengers because they never expected someone as old as him to be in Indianapolis. While he could have challenged for a larger city he simply had no interest. Looking at me, curiously as if he didn't understand. My clothes didn’t have the look of old, his arrogance would cost him. Now I understand that actual physical years has something to do with overconfidence. He assumed that at his age of anyone who would be a threat was a known entity. He was wrong of course but I have seen this repeated by old vampire several times now. A master ignoring what their senses tell them and acting on an assumed age. This master, named Thadeus I eventually learned, had literally been alive 420 years. He believed there were very few who could be a challenge to him and none had any interest in his unimportant city. So he ignored his sense and listened to his ego, it was a mistake.

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I moved fast, slamming him back against the wall, knocking aside whatever weapon he had in his hand. To my surprise he pushed back, there was some strength in him, I’ll give him that. He kept fighting but we both knew the outcome after that first exchange, I could see it on his face. He leapt back retrieving a beautiful gladius, the damn thing had a shine to it that caught my eye. Swinging back at me fast and hard it was my turn to dodge while drawing the cutlass. Brining it up to block his down swing as I rolled to my feet. He wasn’t prepared for the force of my return, it knocked his sword to the floor. When he stepped back trying to catch his balance, I hit him hard driving my shoulder into his chest. The force launched him across the room into the wall. The impact embedded him in the wall, broken bones jutted out at awkward angles. Black blood leaked from his mouth, his eyes rolled wildly like they were trying to understand what had changed. It hadn't been the plan but the blow had conveniently sunk him far enough into the wall to break rebar. Bending the rebar around him like a cage of sorts, tightly enough to remove his leverage. The blow had finished him, he wasn't dead or dying, but his power was gone. The fight was over, whatever stores he had left in his body would only get him half healed and not strong enough to escape his impromptu cell. He would be hungry very soon as his body healed. Step one; catch master without killing him, Check.

The rest gasped as the new reality settled in, their master had been beaten in seconds. They feared him, his power was beyond their understanding and I had just crushed him almost casually, the boogeyman had arrived. A thinking man would have let them stand there and come to me one at a time in another room to swear allegiance. It would have been much easier to kill them one at a time. Sadly I didn't know thats how it worked ....I attacked. Oldest first, she was second to the master, his only progeny. Before the rest knew what was happening I was feeding on her. They fought then, realizing the threat wasn’t just a new master, but a direct threat to their existence. This was not the way it was done what stood before them was death. To their credit no one fled, they all fought. They all died, I was cut and ripped in dozens of places by the time it was finished but constant feeding let me heal faster than they could hurt me. My sword took heads, arms, and legs it wasn’t pretty, there was no finesse involved. Nothing like what you see in a movie. This was brutality in action, when it was done body parts littered the floor. I had fed on four, beheaded another sixteen and put three more in the wall beside their master. These three where his guards, weak enough to never be a threat, but strong enough to be his guards. One of them was the hunter who had taking the dealers the night before. He had landed a few solid blows, the cut down my side had been from is knife. I am guessing he was a fighter before he turned, he knew combat and not just as vampire.

As the 18 returned throughout the night, I took them one or two at a time. The younglings died, two more joined the now growing ring of cages around the room. All nicely built into the walls, custom fit to the individual. They were the older members, I was betting on them to be more informed and useful. Just before predawn, the last one returned. A youngling starving and afraid, I could see something in his eyes, it made me pause for a moment.

"Kill me, please I don't want this." It was all he said, maybe 18 years old probably hadn't fed more then once. The light faded behind his eyes as my sword stabbed through his heart, I could see his happiness. He had not chosen this, it had been forced on him you could see it a mile away. My eyes filled with tears as he died, sadness for him and pity for myself. Part of me envied him, it was done for him this undead existence. Slowly I added his body to the others , all placed in a round room I had found, it had no roof. It was a death chamber, I had confirmed it with one of my captives. He tried to lie but when I said I would put him in there to test it, he suddenly remember what it was. I checked everyone's bounds, and sat waiting and watching them.

As soon as the suns first lights were showing outside, security cameras are wonderful by the way, each one of them including the master was unconscious. The bodies in the chamber turned to ash, the morning breeze carried them away. I said a silent prayer for the last one, not much on the idea of god lately but it couldn’t hurt. Looking around until finding what could only be the masters chamber, I took a bath and searched for some new clothes, sadly my "life's a beach" t-shirt was done for. A neat cut from a knife and several rips from claws had taken a toll on my limited wardrobe. This life was going to be hard on clothes, staying awake long enough to collect a change of clothes before falling into the masters bed.

The dreams that night where intense, slowly loosing them again and again. It was sharp and vivid, the horror of it had lessened in some way. I didn't know it then, but I was loosing the last of my humanity. Slowly becoming more and more the monster I am now. I didn't wake up shaking or screaming the horror of my actions was fading, becoming more a distant memory.

It was dusk, the fading light in the sky still dangerous, but I was below ground. The security cameras played out a pleasant evening in the city above, watching them as I rummaged through the masters things. Eventually finding a couple pairs of jeans that fit, 550's my preferred Levi's even. T-shirt’s were in another room, this one with 5 beds and a couple of dressers, mostly black concert shirts but I opted for the bright yellow one with black lettering "mean people suck" across the front. What can I say, it amused me. There was also a nice oilskin duster that went to my pile, never know when you might need another jacket. Admittedly it was a bit 80's style but I always liked those things. It also hid the sword better than the leather jacket did. Digging around revealed a nice collection of arms, a CZ75 compact 9mm with a shoulder rig, a Remington 870 with a folding stock it had a nice variety of rounds, including ten dragon fire. The master had a very complete collection of medieval arms. I picked up a much nicer saber, my preference from my fencing days anyway. He actually had a French Cuiraseer, straighter then the normal saber they always suited me. It was a bit dressy for me but definitely a functional weapon, I would guess 200 yrs old. Taking a few minutes reorganizing my new quarters, cleaning out his crap and putting mine where it could be reached easily. Eventually going out to wait on my host and his kin to wake up.

They where not quite awake yet, I am guessing it has something to do with my feeding, or lack of, that I don't sleep as long or as deep as they do. It could be an age or power thing too, need to remember to ask about that. Either way I had a moment and took a look around, wandering up to a landing just above the bedroom and located a library. It looked pretty well stocked, fiction and non and most interesting a "History of the Vampires". I wondered how real or factual it would be, leafing through it I realized it was looked damn accurate. Almost a family bible of sorts, the beginning was a lot of begetting, then to creating as the writing modernized. It started with Cain, marking his death centuries ago with a question mark. Evidently with the destruction of the council, Justicar was the top of the food chain. There was no mention of Carnifex regarding age or creation, he just appeared with the Justicar. By then my host or is it guest now? Guest, this is all mine now even by their rules, was beginning to stir, no need to be rude and keep him waiting. Strolling down the stairs reading the book as I walked.