Please don't leave

Johnny, what have you done?

Tears rolled down his face as he clutched the bloody corpse against his body.

I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster, repeated over and over again - it was Johnny's mantra, intoned like Dorothy clipping her blood red shoes waiting to wake up from a dream. The witch was dead.

Mary, as she liked to be called, walked over to Johnny, pulled the corpse out of his arms and shook him with all her might.

Johnny, what have you done!

The corpse lay on the ground beside him, eye sockets and mouth vacantly opened up to the sky. Johnny looked up into his sisters eyes. She couldn't save him. Not this time. But he desperately wanted her too.

It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not a monster, Mary, please believe me, I'm not a monster.

You cut out her fucking eyes, Johnny, and her tongue! Why the fuck would you do that?

She was staring at me. She kept calling me a monster, kept saying I was a bad boy, that I was going to go to hell. I had to make it stop, I had to! I'm not a monster! Please help me, Mary, please! What am I going to do? They're going to kill me.

No, Johnny, I'm not saving you this time. This time you're own your own. I found a job in America, I'm going to cross the border tomorrow. I was going to take you with me, Johnny, but look at what you've done! They'll never let you cross now! They'd throw me in jail too!

Please, sis, I'm begging you, please!

Johnny cried in his sister's arms, tears mingling with the blood stains.

Please, sis, please don't go away. Please don't leave.

Maria pushed him away from her, leaving him in a heap sobbing on the floor. She went to her room, changed her clothes, packed her bags and left without saying another word to Johnny. He never heard from her again.

Remember

Dear Prince,

I would like to formally request for a memorial to be held in honor of Oscar Vardez. I did not know him or his works well, but I know that he had an undying passion to create a better world for the kindred, and he was loyal to the Camarilla and to you. I feel it's important that we honor the memory of our casualties of war - those that have faced final death so that we might live.

He was an honorable man and he was always helpful to the cause, even though it has led to his final death. He will be missed. He should be remembered.

My condolences go out to Lola, Faith and all those of the Tremere clan who knew him as family.

Sincerely,
John Riviera

Additions

Something doesn't sit right. Something is bothering me. Its not the monotonous crackling of the static on the television screens in front of me. It's also not the rattling of Violetta's nightly routine, cleaning her guns with pesticide. Nor is it the stuttered exclamations uttered my an excited Malachi as he pages through mountains of notes.

No, it is something from some nights past.

Why did the Nosferatu deliver Greymalkin? Didn't Father Carlito say they had him? I negotiated a deal with the Sabbat, not the Nosferatu! So why the hell did the Nosferatu deliver him? And how did they know where my Haven was? There is something sinister brewing underground. I'm starting to see that Greymalkin might not have been working unilaterally. The poor creature might only have been an unknowing pawn.

The Nosferatu are up to something. And the Sabbat are involved. There is something devious brewing underground.

A Letter To My Prince

My dear prince,

I write this letter to you because I feel I owe you at least this much. Take it as a confirmation of my loyalty to you, an apology for actions not yet taken or even a confession of guilt. Any one will fit. But know that I write this with no deceit and nothing but love and loyalty in my heart. You are not just my prince, but a dear friend and the only family I've ever known. I would lay down a thousand of my lives to keep you and the others safe, and never feel even the slightest regret.

I feel little loyalty to the Camarilla itself. Sure, I understand the need for it, the need for its rules and its traditions. They are perfectly rational, and upholding them should be a priority. Yet I also know that this is not all that the Camarilla are about. There are aspects to it that I (or dare I even say we) do not really agree with. Our Malkavian 'weakness' grants us the special ability to see through the smoke that clouds everyone else's eyes. This is why we are so mistrusted in this organisation... because we can see the truths they try to keep from us. We can see the lies in their doctrine. And I know it is not just I who sees this. How can we not see it? Our Tabitha is the very embodiment of this truth!

EVERYTHING WILL COME TO AN END.

Is this not the perfect paradox? Finally we've achieved what every mortal wishes for, only to have it sucked from us one fateful night. I have no doubt that if they could, every clan in the Camarilla would wipe us out completely. It is only because they fear the violence of our retribution should they fail that they do not try. We are more hated and mistrusted than even the Nosferatu.

That being said, please do not assume that I feel any sympathy for the Sabbat. I despise them with every part of my being. I abhor their callous violence and their disregard for their own humanity. I remember that you once taught me about the struggle between the beast and the man inside of us. I'd go as far as saying it is a struggle between life and death. There still burns some life in our corpses, and it is this life that gives us our conscience, our morality. The death in us strives to cause only more death.

To be honest, in light of the auguries around us all the sect squabbles seem quite pathetic. Like children fighting on a playground.

So, to come to the point of this letter. I wish for you to know that any actions I might take in the future, no matter how they look, are taken for the good of our clan. Everything I do I do for you, my dear prince. If I keep any secrets from you it will be because I feel that these secrets will put the bearer of them in great jeopardy. If I take any actions that seem disagreeable I will be because I feel that they will grant us more time together.

In short, you and the others are all I have in this world. You are the sole reason for my existence. You have shown me mercy and clemency when you had no reason to. You have shown trust in me when everyone else would not. And now I ask you one last time. Please trust me. Trust that whatever I do will be for our greater good.

Your servant in eternal love and loyalty,
Jeremy

Done

I trusted both of you.

I was loyal to both of you.

I loved both of you.

I let both of you mark me.

And now I have to carry the scars, inside and out.

Both of you are- were selfish.

Possessive.

Arrogant.

And neither of you could even say those three fucking stupid little words. Such brave, strong, confident men. So sensitive, so caring. My fucking heroes? More like petulant five-year-olds sulking over their poor miserable lives. You've left me with nothing. How thoughtful. What a great way to prove you loved me.

Just pathetic.

I am so fucking glad to be rid of you two!

Now, stop crying about it, silly girl.

Stalemate

“She left. She just… left.”

“What were you expecting? For her to make a choice? You really don’t know her at all.”

“I had hoped. One way or another just to know. This is, however, for the best.”

“My God, I hate you.”

“The feeling is quite mutual.”

“Everything I had done, all I had risked, it had all been for her.”

“I can say the very same thing. Even now, I totally, truly love her. Except I hid behind the memory of a dead child fearing that love.”

“Don’t even try and trump me at being pathetic. She said she loved me, when she didn’t. I never said I loved her, when I did.” 

“Huh!”

“I was waiting for this all to be over, for my debt to be paid and we could be free. I was ready to say the words out loud to her.”

“So, we are agreed.”

“I never pictured it ending like this but it is suitably poetic to me. Yes, we are.”

“If I were to survive this, the Sabbat would kill her.”

“If I were to survive this, the Camarilla would kill her.”

“Hold me tightly. The flame will burn brightly between us for only a few moments.”

“If you'd like I can assume a different form? There’s a little something I’ve only very recently mastered that may take some of the pain. Call it a parting consideration.”

“No, I think it is only fitting that the last thing I see is you. To remind me of my undying stupidity.”    

“Fitting.”

“I knew it was you, by the way. That time you came to the Elysium.”

“Indeed. How did you know?”

“Faith is a far better kisser.”

“Go to hell.”

“See you there.”

Project

This place is just filthy. Filth attracts scum. It's no wonder this place is running into the ground.

In either case, it looks like Jeremy's fucked off with his mad posse. Is it my fault the staff naturally look to me for guidance? Not that I know their names (seriously, they're cattle!), but barman-dude and bouncer-guy have been asking what's going on and far be it for me to let the poor humans try to figure stuff out on their own. Hey, even if Jeremy's away for one night, it's long enough for me to condition these brainless mortals to do what I want.

Now, surely crazy-boy won't mind if I do a little redecorating? I'm thinking velvet couches, private booths, silverware, chandeliers, candlesticks, silk drapes, elevated iron walkways... a stage, for god's sake! Some proper music, some decent entertainment... and a special private room in the back for our kind. Now, that's hospitality. Let those insane fuckers do what they like in the backroom with all those TVs and shit (memo: soundproof it!). The rest of us cultured folk can be magnificent out here, in the proper surroundings... And of course, this place needs some standards. Not just any slob can wander in. Only beautiful, delectable patrons please! After all, a girl needs to feed.

Now, who to invite for the reopening? The Toreadors, of course, because they'll actually appreciate it. guess I have to invite the lame-ass rest of the Camarilla, though I'm betting 90% of them won't come. Oscar won't, but maybe Eliza? She's not quite as much of a prude. And hey, those snake guys are welcome too, they're decent.

And of course my magpie must see it. I'll tell him to surprise me.

Ooh, what fun!

Post Script

“Everything is packed and prepared.”

“Good. I’ve organized a list of instructions should things go poorly.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m tired of sitting and skulking away. It’s time.”

“Let me come with you. You don’t need to do this on your own.”

“I do. This is my mess. I don’t need to involve you.”

“But I am involved. You sent for my help, asked for my guidance. Why won’t you take it now?”

“This needs to be done. This needs to end. And I need finish this alone. I have sat back for far too long watching in quiet desperation hoping beyond all hope that things would change. They have not, they will not and now I must act.” 

“You say you’re doing this alone and yet you’re bringing them. Why?”

“They need to see this. I owe it to them.”

“You owe them nothing. They have shown you nothing but scorn and ill contempt. I have tried to see the value, the worth you speak of, and see nothing. Vapid, barren and loveless. That is all.”

“Regardless, I’ve made up my mind. I go and they are coming with me.”

“I still marvel at the change that has come over her. So… different.”

“It is a powerful influence.”

“I know. I can see it on you. You’re breaking all your rules for this. The rules you maintained as key to your survival.”

“Survival? I have been living a half-life for many nights now. One way or another. I am ending this.”

“You’ve changed my friend. I warned you of caring too much and now it could cost you everything.” 

“At this point, everything is a small price to pay.”