December 19th, 2020
Montreal, Canada - Lexington Avenue
Summit's Pinnacle - The Obsidian Gem
2:05 A.M.
The Obsidian Gem: a lavish subterranean condominium tailored exclusively to the pursuits of reading, meditation, and writing. The interior ambiance struck a captivating balance between ominous moody undertones and a tasteful infusion of modern comforts. The meticulously crafted wooden furnishings and intricate decorations showcased bespoke designs, exuding a level of opulence typically reserved for grand mansions or esteemed museums.
Within the expansive and expensive confines of the Obsidian Gem, was the study. And within the study was one solitary man. He had a large frame, one that barely occupied the center of the dark walnut executive desk behind which he sat. His elbows rested on the surface's smooth veneer, and his fingers formed a steeple. He wore a midnight blue chore jacket with a spread collar that was further accentuated by the mother-of-pearl buttons adorning the sleeve cuffs.
The man's pale, chiseled face contrasted sharply against the deep hue of the jacket. He sat straight, and still. With a distant gaze that was fixed straight ahead, and with eyes that betrayed a profound contemplation underscored by the deep, brooding frown that tugged down at the corners of his mouth.
A disposable phone was on the table in front of him, and positioned to his right-hand side was a black laptop with the screensaver displaying a serene forest vista at the foot of a majestic mountain range. The soft, blueish-white glow emanating from the screen cast a faint illumination on the man's features, albeit in muted and washed-out tones.
Bzzz!
The phone's display lit up, casting a soft glow against the square white backdrop. A single line of tiny letters materialized on the screen, capturing the man's undivided attention. His gaze locked onto the phone, yet he made no immediate move to answer it. Instead, he remained still, his eyes fixed upon the device, observing it intently as if awaiting some sort of revelation.
Bzzz!
Silence. Darkness. Stillness...
Bzzz!
With deliberate movements, the man lowered his forearms until they rested on the table, aligning with either side of the phone. His palms flattened against the desk, and his intense gaze remained fixed on the caller ID displayed on the screen. There was a distinct absence of emotion in his eyes, as if he were detached from the situation.
Bzzz!
Silence. Darkness. Stillness...
He held the phone up in front of him, scrutinizing it for a moment before decisively flipping it open and placing it against his ear. Resting one forearm on the table, he waited in silence as nearly a full minute ticked by with the other end of the line remaining completely silent.
Then, a deep, rumbling baritone filled the study. "Find her."
Snap!
The phone shut, and was returned it to its place in front of him. Closing his eyes, he extended a hand and shut the laptop, plunging the room into utter darkness.
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December 19th, 2020
City of Saguenay - Québec, Canada
2:05 A.M.
The howling wind relentlessly battered the snow-covered streetlight, its feeble red glow struggling to pierce through the swirling snowflakes. The T-intersection lay cloaked in eerie darkness, buildings and trees shrouded in a thick layer of snow. Frigid gusts of wind added to the sense of desolation, creating a haunting scene untouched by human presence.
The distant sound of a roaring engine! Snow crunching beneath tires!
Through the turbulent snowfall, the yellowish-white glow of headlights emerged, casting a faint beam that intermittently battled against the relentless storm. The headlights sliced through the swirling snowflakes, illuminating the road ahead. As the vehicle approached, its features gradually became discernible, revealing a sturdy silhouette and the glint of its metallic exterior.
A modern police cruiser interceptor tore through the snow-covered road with reckless speed. Its powerful engine roared as it approached the T-intersection, barely slowing down. The driver skillfully maneuvered the vehicle into a sharp left turn, causing the rear tires to momentarily lose traction. The cruiser slid sideways, fighting against the slick surface, but the driver quickly regained control, easing off the accelerator to regain traction. The tires spun, flinging sprays of snow into the air before finally gripping the hidden asphalt beneath. With a surge of power, the cruiser surged forward, leaving behind a trail of fading red taillights that were soon swallowed by the engulfing darkness and falling snow.
The streetlight emitted a flickering glow before turning green, its frame creaking in the wind.
Inside the vehicle, the central partition separating the front and back sections was partially lowered, allowing a brief glimpse of the occupants in the rear. A voice belonging to an unfamiliar male driver rang out, muffled by the partition. "Two minutes!" The partition then swiftly closed again, isolating the passengers from the front.
The vehicle hit a bump, causing everyone inside to be jolted in their seats.
November's phone rang. Raising the flip phone, his gaze narrowed as he fixed a stern expression on the caller ID.
Ye Bao observed the man's face from the corner of his eye, noting a flicker of surprise that crossed his features. 'He wasn't expecting this,' Ye Bao silently pondered.
November flipped open the phone and brought it to his ear. "Speak," he demanded, his voice cold and commanding.
Ye Bao caught garbled snippets of words from the other line, but nothing he could adequately hear.
November's stoic expression remained unchanged, but his narrowed eyes and the slight crease forming on his forehead hinted at growing concern or annoyance. "Remain near the site. Do not intervene," November swiftly ended the call, his hand returning the phone to his pocket with a practiced motion. "The vampires are on the move; you'll have five minutes at the most,” he said, looking straight ahead. "Can you handle this?" he asked, slowly enunciating every syllable. The glow of passing overhead streetlights revealed the hard look in his eyes that said there was only one correct answer.
"Yes," Ye Bao replied firmly. Then, a hint of curiosity laced his words as he inquired, "What changed?"
November remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The vehicle jostled. "We have a problem," he finally spoke.
"We didn't before?" Ye Bao asked, his tone laden with responsibility despite the sarcasm.
November's jaw clenched ever so slightly at the sarcastic tone. "No. We had a situation. Now…" November exhaled, "Now we have a problem. That was Nightwatch," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"Shit," Ye Bao hissed grimly, leaning back in his seat.
"Yes… Apparently, the vampire is stronger than we anticipated."
"How much stronger?"
November fell silent again. Then: "It’s killed everyone on-site."
Ye Bao felt a surge of anticipation, his heart quickening with excitement rather than fear.
"We get its age wrong?" Ye Bao kept the hopefulness out of his voice. His blood boiled at the thought of going toe-to-toe with a real vampire. It had been too long. He couldn't tell if it was him or the blood, and maybe he never would again. Perhaps he was doomed to struggle against another personality in the same body constantly. But at the end of the day, he’d made a choice. Regret was acceptable; everyone lived with some regrets. But dwelling on them? That was destructive. That’s when you start making mistakes. That’s what got you killed.
“It’s unlikely…” November's uncharacteristic uncertainty left Ye Bao stunned. It was rare to witness one of his handlers, particularly November, display such wavering confidence in their gathered intelligence.
“No, we’ll go off what we have,” November continued, shaking his head, “Nightwatch just confirmed its age as anywhere between two to four hours."
Ye Bao's singing blood seemed to momentarily slow, and a deep frown etched itself onto his face. "That can't be right," he drawled, disbelief seeping into his tone.
A particular incident flashed through Ye Bao's mind: a memory of a past encounter when a Breach Beacon had been accidentally activated due to a misidentification by the Team Leader. In that situation, they had encountered a newly risen vampire, mistaking it for a much older and more powerful creature of the night. The experience had revealed to Ye Bao the stark contrast between a fledgling vampire and an ancient one.
The newborn, driven solely by primal instincts, exhibited a mindless hunger, indiscriminately feeding until its insatiable cravings were momentarily satisfied. Without the guidance and presence of a Sire to provide blood and wisdom, these confused and often deranged newborns resembled frenzied zombies, displaying no self-preservation instincts as they mindlessly charged toward the nearest source of sustenance.
Ye Bao's thoughts raced as he tried to piece together the puzzle. How could a vampire who had only recently been turned, with a mere two hours of existence, manage to single-handedly eliminate an entire building full of trained law enforcement officers? It defied all logical explanations, challenging the very foundations of his understanding of a vampire's capabilities.
He contemplated the various possibilities. Perhaps this newborn possessed some exceptional innate abilities that allowed it to swiftly overpower its adversaries. Or maybe it had received some form of supernatural aid or had access to advanced weaponry. No, that couldn’t be it. Alternatively, there could have been unforeseen circumstances at play, like the element of surprise or strategic positioning within the building. But that wasn’t right either; newborns didn’t plan or strategize like that.
"It's correct," November’s tone was indecipherable. "So, I'll ask again: can you do this?"
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Ye Bao's gaze fixated on the window, his reflection merging with the somber scenery outside. The world beyond was a haze of swirling snowflakes, shrouding the city in an ethereal white veil. He held his silence, thoughts swirling in his mind like the dancing snowflakes. "Yes," he finally responded.
Just then, his eyes imperceptibly widened as a familiar building passed, signaling that the precinct was right around the corner. Predatorial anticipation flashed behind his eyes as the whites darkened and a single, blackened vein crawled up the side of his neck.
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December 19th, 2020
City of Saguenay - Québec, Canada
2:00 A.M.
Lieutenant Aubry waved off yet another uniformed officer seeking authorization for minor details related to the crime scene. She sighed, feeling the wind chill seep into her bones. Needing a moment out of the biting cold, she paused to warm her hands, the numbing sensation slowly dissipating.
After gathering herself, Aubry strode toward her car. Opening the door, she slid inside with a contented sigh. The car door slammed shut, sending a small cascade of snow tumbling from the bumper. She adjusted herself in the seat, feeling a brief sense of relief wash over her. Beyond the windshield, the snow-covered surroundings and flashing police lights provided a serene backdrop. Taking a deep breath, Aubry prepared herself for the next phase of the investigation.
Two other police cruisers were parked to the left of Lieutenant Aubry's car. Alexandre and Arthur occupied the cruiser furthest to the left, silently enjoying the warmth of the car's heater. In the adjacent cruiser, Evan and Arielle were engaged in a somber conversation, reflecting on the harrowing things they'd seen inside the hospital.
Looking out at her team, Aubry couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility resting heavily on her shoulders.
"Unit Four A- Unit Four A, please respond," a stern, feminine voice crackled from her vehicle's police scanner. Aubry's brow furrowed as the message interrupted her while she was removing her gloves. She snagged the receiver off the scanner and replied: "Unit Four A here."
"Four A, please be advised, you are about to receive a [10-1] on your scanner dash- ignore and proceed with a [10-2]." Aubry’s nose crinkled at the orders, her eyes landing on the small screen strip along the scanner.
"[10-4], Dispatch," Aubry acknowledged, her voice firm. With a click, she returned the receiver to its cradle. Leaning back in her seat, she let out a soft sniff, a mixture of weariness and determination in her expression. Her eyes narrowed as she brought her chilled hands together, rubbing them gently in her lap. "Hmm, right then," she murmured to herself, slipping her gloves back on and reaching for the car door handle. With a decisive motion, she swung the door open and was greeted by a gust of icy wind that cut through the confined interior of her vehicle. Undeterred, she braced herself and stepped out onto the snow-covered ground.
Feeling the chill seeping through her gloves, she instinctively clapped her hands together, the sound muffled by the protective layer of fabric.
Closing the car door firmly with a swift kick of her boot, she made her way toward the two adjacent cruisers, her footsteps softly crunching in the snow.
Aubry took a final moment to adjust her gloves, ensuring a snug fit before she slapped the engine covers of the two cruisers to get the team's attention. Not that she had to.
Almost in perfect synchrony, the doors of the cruisers swung open. Evan's wheat-blonde hair crested the roof of his car before the rest of him got out. He leaned against the open door frame with a confident stance, left forearm resting on top. "Lieutenant?" he called out.
Alexandre's burly figure gradually emerged from his car, while Arielle gracefully circled around the front of her vehicle to join Evan on the driver's side.
Arthur observed from behind the partially obscured windshield, attentively listening through Alexandre's ajar door.
"Got a [10-2]; I’m headed back to the station,” Aubry quickly summarized, “-and I need you to take control until myself or the Sergeant come back," she pointedly looked at Evan.
‘Where in the hell did Sergeant Huard get to?' she thought, frustrated with the man's earlier behavior. And now, he was nowhere to be found! Apparently the last anyone'd seen of him was when he was apparently headed out to his car on the street.
"Me?" Evan asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward as though in an attempt to hear better.
Arielle elbowed him in the side.
Evan straightened his posture and nodded. "Yes, ma'am, you can count on me."
Lieutenant Aubry rolled her eyes and returned to her vehicle, opening the door and sliding back inside. The door closed, and the engine started—the head and tail lights flashing to life and settling. Snow crunched as the vehicle angled itself out of the blockade and drove onto a side road that led back onto the main one.
The storm soon swallowed the Lieutenant's car.
Arielle shook her head and walked around the back of their car. "Nice going," she said. Evan's professionalism faded like the lieutenant's taillights at her words.
"Well, excuse me for not jumping at the chance for more responsibility in a triple homicide case," he huffed, cracking his neck.
Alexandre grunted and bent down to shove his considerable bulk back into the driver’s seat.
Arthur leaned closer to his door to accommodate his partner, looking like he regretted everything.
"Doesn't responsibility come with power or something?" Arielle asked innocently as she reached her door and leaned against the side of the vehicle.
Evan's scathing response was cut short by the sound of approaching conversation. They turned to see a group of three uniforms and two forensic specialists walking toward the front of the hospital. The group exited the raging snowstorm and finally entered beneath the overhang’s boundary, looking like a roving band of sapient popsicles in their snow-crusted parkas.
Arielle and Evan shared a glance.
The group paused to adjust their clothes, kick off snow, and roughly clap their hands until, eventually, one of the forensic specialists separated from the group and walked over, calling out: "Where's the lieutenant?"
"You just missed her—she’s returning to the station," Evan replied evenly. 'Oh boy,' he thought, 'And so it begins.'
"Got it…” The specialist nodded a few times, then placed his hands under his armpits to warm them. “She say anything about the evidence we've gathered or…?"
"Actually," Arielle interjected before Evan could respond, "-the Lieutenant placed Officer Jolicoeur here in charge until she gets back."
'Damn you,' Evan cursed to himself, offering a polite smile to the specialist as he was introduced.
"Yeah? All right, here we go then." The forensic specialist seemed relieved to have found someone in charge. He turned back and motioned his group over before handing Evan a small black duffel bag. "That's one of four—we've still got markers up at the scene, and there was one thing we needed the Lieutenant's go-ahead for before we start compiling the report," he briefly relayed where they stood in the investigation.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Whatever I can do to help," Evan nodded, opening the back door of his car and carefully sliding the duffel bag across the backseat. He made eye contact with Arielle as he slammed it shut, his eyes promising righteous retribution. "Keep an eye on it for me, ay, Banville?"
Arielle stood to attention, picking a point somewhere behind him to look at. "Yes, sir, Officer Jolicoeur. You can count on me," she said, mimicking his expression and tone when speaking to the Lieutenant. Before Evan could adequately form a retaliatory response on the level of overkill, the specialist took advantage of the pause.
"Great. Sir, if you will?” The specialist walked toward the main entrance and motioned to follow along. “It's back inside; let me show you."
'Motherfucker,' Evan internally swore, moving to follow the specialist, but not without turning and glaring at Arielle before they made it through the main doors.
The specialist started droning on about the scene security process they’d decided to use.
Evan showed a neutral fascination with the subject, nodding and offering affirmatives when asked a question as he followed along. He kept his thoughts to himself, however. The last thing he wanted to do was return inside and see all that dried blood and gore dripping off the walls. Those bodies were the stuff of nightmares. He had to suppress a chilling shudder at the memory.
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A writhing sea of indistinct shadows—two colossal, humanoid figures with fiery blue eyes!
Bright flashes of orange light—jarring visuals—staggering... to nowhere.
Disorientation... converging shadows... streaking blurs... Up, yet down.
Hunger... the world turned upside down, and bright red liquid fell like rain!
Confusion... a forest of dark, crystalline trees grew out of the sky!
Pain.
Agony.
Suffering.
An indistinct figure... infinitely far, yet immediately close... supporting itself against nothing, yet the whole world...
Its head lifted.
Irises of cold steel!
Zoé's eyes snapped open, revealing bloodshot emerald irises as she desperately gasped for air. A relentless fit of coughing convulsed through her trembling form. Gradually, she shifted onto her side, using a hand to prop herself up against the soft, wet ground. With each cough, she expelled thick clumps of coagulated blood.
Soft. Dark.
Zoé's subconscious mind instinctively registered certain details through the haze obscuring her thoughts. A tremulous breath escaped her lips, while the biting cold air aggravated her achingly raw, burning throat.
Cold. Wind.
The fingers of her right hand tightened, her nails subtly elongating into claw-like shapes that scraped against the snowy ground, gouging deep furrows into the earth.
Snow. Wet.
Her body abruptly convulsed, a tremor coursing through her before she suddenly went limp, collapsing onto her stomach with a pained groan. Grimacing, she gingerly shifted onto her back. Her once resplendent auburn hair now lay disheveled and matted with blood, scattered in disarray around her head.
Even that simple act of surrendering to the pain elicited stabbing agony throughout her entire body. It was pure torture just existing like this. Why wouldn’t it go away already?
Numbly, she lifted her gaze, fixating on the myriad of dazzling, twinkling stars that intermittently emerged from behind the dense veil of the snowstorm. They were unfathomable... enigmatic... beautiful. It made the pain almost bearable. Almost. With a sigh, she gently closed her eyes.
The events of the night flickered disjointedly in her mind's eye, each scene provoking her hands to clench into quivering fists by her sides. Her nails dug deeply into her palms, but she paid the feeling no heed; she deserved the pain. How could she have been so foolish?
The frigid wind mercilessly lashed at her tattered clothes, whipping her hair wildly across her face.
‘...What have I done...’
'...Why did I do that...’
‘...Why did it do that!?’
She opened her eyes, only to find the serenity of the starlit sky mocking her predicament. With a determined resolve, she gradually reached a decision. Groaning in agony, she shifted onto her right side and painstakingly regained her balance, placing her left palm on the ground and maneuvering her knees beneath her. With utmost care, she rose to her feet, her muscles ablaze and, at times, outright failing her. She hated this feeling.
That stupid fucking Beast had taken control. Again. The aftermath was pure bullshit.
'Fuck you, Sauvage. Pull yourself together,' she snarled inwardly, forcing herself to straighten her shoulder despite the searing pain that shot down her spine. She could feel the bones grinding and readjusting in her clavicle. 'So you made a mistake. Who the fuck hasn't? Now fix the mistake.' Her trembling hands gradually steadied, and she struck the ground beside her with a clenched fist. Gritting her teeth against the intense, white-hot agony coursing through her thighs and abdomen, she persisted, pushing through until the pain subsided to a persistent ache. 'Fucking hell...' she steeled herself, then tapped into her vitae.
Thud!
A grunt escaped her lips as she staggered backward, as though gut-punched with a car bumper. She managed to catch herself, preventing a complete fall as she dropped down onto one knee. Bracing against the oncoming seizures, she resisted, battling the convulsions that wracked her body. It felt like there was a stifled cough lodged deep in her throat that wouldn't move. Seeing no other way, she clasped her hands tightly together and forcefully brought them down onto her chest. Hard.
A glob of dark, coagulated blood splattered onto the snow, causing Zoé to gasp as she finally managed to take a deep breath. Allowing herself to collapse onto her side, she then settled onto her back. Gazing up at the obscured night sky, she felt her bones shifting and her muscles beginning to regenerate. "Fuck you, stars," she muttered, releasing her frustration. She then focused her attention on her surroundings, trying to figure out where the stupid Beast had brought her.
Several familiar landmarks came into view, such as a gas station situated on one side of the road, while across from it stood a parking lot. So she was on the eastern periphery of the city, approximately two and a half miles away from the hospital.
Scattered images violently flashed through her mind.
"And fuck you too," she groused, pressing her fingers to her temple, a frustrated expression warring with a disciplined determination to remain composed. She knew she had to think, she needed to concentrate.
"He's not at the hospital anymore... damn it all," she cursed. She didn't want to resort to this. Every instinct as a Sire urged her to let her Childer prove his worthiness for their clan's gift by himself. But she couldn’t think that way. Not now. Not ever. She forcefully pushed those complex emotions away. The only way she would survive this absolute clusterfuck was to find her Childer... and kill him.
Her Sire's words from a distant past reverberated in her mind, strengthening her resolve.
Zoé extended her consciousness to the bond between her and her Familiar, instantaneously conveying what she needed.
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Somewhere on the edges of the city...
Kraa- Kraa!
A raven, black as midnight, alighted off a tree branch and into the night sky, effortlessly soaring through the snowstorm and toward the city proper.