"You may read this letter but
you will never read my soul...damned monsters."
I told them to their faces, wretched creatures,
told them all of what a great folly they had created. They did not listen.
Dark eyed creatures of the night, clinging to a vain masquerade of
selfishness. Children of Caine. Damned among gods children!
The wolfen were no better. A crumbling Umbra was what they claimed as
pure. Pack hunting savages. Gaia's animal fools!
I look on the others now with pity. The mortal mages wielding as much
power as any Vampire or Werewolf, become monsters themselves. They cannot sleep at night.
Their adversaries await them.
Creatures slipping the bonds of the "Great Illusion", such as
the Changelings and Wraiths, they add no comfort to me in my aged state, for why do they
journey here? I shudder, my bones frail, and I wish I did not know that answer. I feel I
can guess at the answer, even now, though I still hold life within my breast. A heart
beating ceaselessly, it has not failed me, yet soon it must.
They are coming.
My words of late have infuriated them. I can thank them all for their
last shred of decency, a time to settle my affairs, perhaps my journals will survive the
scourging. Perhaps these are my last words. I pray you will
heed my warnings. My time is running short.
Drive the stake, hold the silver, wield the fire that cleanses these
damned lest you too fall prey to monstrosity, and settle your soul in hell.
Hunter of the Damned.
A dimly lit bar in the lower city:
[Gerrald] Is this guy dead yet?
[Paul] Yeah, they did him in last night, crazy koot...
Gerald flashes his white fangs smugly.
[Gerald] Good, he was starting to really ride me with his old
fashioned Vampire hunter shtick.
Paul returns the smile politely.
[Paul] Guess the Lupines made an exception with this guy, came
right into the city for him. A bunch of our kindred almost didn't get out of his apartment
in time. They really rampaged the place. Not much left, and not much left of Raul...
[Gerald] Lupines aced him?
Paul nods soberly.
[Gerald] One more thing for me to hate those furring buggers for.
[Paul] The prince of the city is calling a meeting. The Masquerade
is endangered by this old man's actions.
Gerald begins to walk out of the bar, he drops into contemplation as he leaves and
thinks for some time on the matter at hand. A half block down the street his mood takes a
turn for the better.
[Gerald] It's just like I always said, you can never really trust
those old ghouls to stay loyal. They just get too soft over time.
Geralds deadly smile flashes in the neon glow of the city's aura. The night continues.