[Vampire: The Requiem] The Neonate - "Entry 2: Common Courtesy"

((In Character (IC) Document:

Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Vampire: The Requiem (The Strix Chronicle)

Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer
Post by Jerad Sayler))

7 November 2009

 The next night investigate the Rack invisibly and encounter none of my kind though I don’t go in to any of the dives, restaurants, or other shady establishments of Tejon Street.  I don’t know if this is going to be much help to me, just not my method…  How the hell am I supposed to feed?  I don’t chat up drunks.

My neighbor downstairs now has two barking mutts they lock out on their balcony…  They yap and yap disturbing my research, leisure, and anything I do in my Haven.  With a little invisibility and acrobatics and make my way down… I had fantasized about dropping baker’s chocolate down here for the little bastards.  They are fluffy little things and their poop and little yellow puddles fill the concrete protrusion.  I don’t blame the dogs, I blame the owners neglect… I can see a shadow through the light of the curtains, someone watching TV in the living room. 

I wait patiently, perched on the thick wooden side watching the dogs bark even louder, wonder if they know I’m here.  When the owner goes into another room I appear as I snatch the first dog, it yelps and I drain it quickly, not leaving a mark but tossing its lifeless body over the side to the street two stories below.  The next dog is going hysterical, I cover its mouth with a gloved hand and drain it, using my teeth to tear open its belly, not sure what the owner will come up with… I toss it over too.  I can here he/she coming, I jump over too, making myself unseen once more…

I watch from a shadowed corner as the obese woman deals with her dogs somehow jumping over the side… she’s more angry and confused at the moment, the noises she makes are better than those fucking mutts.  Think about your neighbors next time lady… common courtesy. 

In hindsight, my heightened senses may have contributed to my annoyance.  Also hunger…. And an anger I’ve used before but don’t feel fully comes from ‘me.’  It’s like there is this thing curled in my gut, waiting to be let out of its cage.  Cailyph and Virgil always said that every Kindred has a demon inside them, the demon in the blood.  I don’t want to believe that is true.

With peace and quiet I scourer the internet, Mary Jane hasn’t contact me yet and I’m growing impatient for some reason, and manage to find an old email she might have used.   I risk sending a message, if she no longer uses it I will have to wait, oh well… so many of the undead neglect technology.  If they even have emails they don’t check them very often.  I carefully set up my VPN and encryption services for the message.

Reverend Mary Jane,

I must thank you for being the only kindred who seems willing to take me under their wing.  I seem nothing more than a nuisance to Mr. Asim and to the Mehket of this city.  Upon first impression I've managed to irritate the Prince and his Hound as well as offend Mr. Hawthrone as well.  Luckily everyone in attendance seemed distracted by some sort of altercation occurring when court was supposed to take place.  I'm still gathering information on that, perhaps we could exchange information on that matter?  I was completely overwhelmed and not myself, I have never seen so many of our kind in one place.  I prefer to remain out of sight and out of mind, especially around others like us, instead I felt very exposed.

I went to court, put myself out there, and you’re the only one smart enough to bite... good on you.  I've heard about the Lancea et Sanctium, and frankly they seem like they would be my least favorite bunch, but I am intrigued after meeting some in person.  Perhaps it wasn't being explained to me by the right people, and I do find myself without purpose or salvation as you would say.  Perhaps it's your energy and charisma that holds my attention Sway.

...And don't be upset that I found this email address.  If it's on the net then it's not safe from me.  My skills are the reason I was embraced in the first place.  Perhaps we can meet and talk about this little notebook you left with me if you are willing to tell me more.

To others Langer, but you may call me Chris.

8 November 2009

Bought a basic security system to supplement my locks tonight from a nearby hardware store.  While I’m active, if anyone opens my door or windows without quickly entering the key an audio alarm will sound.  I emailed my landlady about it, she will have to tell me when she sends anyone in so I can leave it off.  When I asked her before she said she approved of such precautions so long as I was willing to pay and could access the apartment when needed.  This is a good thing, if I know someone who is doing maintenance needs to come in I can make sure I’m in a garbage bag in the attic.  The downside is I didn’t connect it to a phone line and the police, I don’t want them barreling in for anything… so it serves little more than as a deterrent and alerting me if I am home.  I need to fit it out to dial out to me using VoIP later.

9 November 2009

I wake as usual, in a sleeping bag behind a row of boxes in the spacious walk in closet.  One second dead and motionless, dreaming of a life long gone, next moment my cold blood quickens me with a jolt.  The nights are getting longer and the darkness setting in sooner.  That means more play time.  I climb out and into the bedroom.  A queen sized bed which is always made and darkness.  The only the light is the glimmer of streetlights and traffic from the patio screen covered with a thick quilt.

I go into the bathroom, not really to freshen up, no need, I just feel compelled tonight.  I squint my eyes tightly and turn on the light, biting back the unease at the sudden burst of light.  I stare at my reflection, a blurred pale face in a black hoodie and sweat pants.  If I could see my face I would see a dark eyed short haired 19 year old, I concentrate on the blur and slowly it gets clearer with a great act of will.  I’m almost breaking out in a blood sweat when I finally see myself clearly.  Now that I think about it, it doesn’t really look like me, and I guess it doesn’t matter.  I change into some jeans and the same hoodie, put on the black leather gloves and add my knives, check my phone – no messages, - check my emails – nothing significant… time to prowl.

The night is cool but pleasant by my standards.  The air is crisp and dry, a light breeze blows the dead leaves around my feet as I make myself a hole in space and rush past the skeletal trees.  The massive peaks to the west are dark and shadowed as always, the last glimmer on the behind them gives the hints to snow at their utmost summits.  I love running through the night like a bad thought, to never get tired and to be invisible and dead to the world.  I avoid the cars with their harsh headlights and dart down the more rural streets on the nearby homes.

Tonight I prowl Prince Berring’s territory, the area I already live in, East of Powers Blvd. Specifically, Cimarron Hills, my immediate area and a Domain I hope to claim as a DMZ from the rest of the predators of the night.  Shouldn’t be too hard to get I figure, it’s just houses directly North of the Air Force Base, not good feeding at all.  

As I head north I spot a homeless man making his way towards the Walmart on Palmer from the North gate of the base.  No doubt he noticed the military members going home and now he needs a new place to beg.  He’s the typical bum-level of disheveled, brown worn hunting jacket, stubbly unkempt hair, wool cap, and of course holding a piece of cardboard with something heartbreaking written on it.  There is humanity and then there is necessity… and he’s too easy of a meal to pass up.  I shouldn’t have trouble stopping, lucky for him, I’m not starving.  The dogs helped a lot.

It’s even easier than I thought, the roads here are even more poorly lit then the rest of the town.  It just seems like Colorado Springs is darker than it should be, the stars are hidden under dim old orange city lights, I like it.  Mehket like the dark after all.  He coughs violently as I approach, but doesn’t turn around, not the healthiest specimen.  It’s a simple matter to come up behind him and chomp down on his exposed neck while grabbing him roughly under the arms.  He starts to swoon and I burn a little blood, surging it into my muscles so I can easily hoist him into the ditch and tree line a dozen feet away.  His blood hits me like a hot blast, instantly warming me from the inside out like a scalding shower.  He might be sick and slightly malnutritioned but damn that’s good!  I bed him down in the ditch and have a hell of a time stopping…  My heightened senses overwhelm me with the smell of his smelly body, the prickle of his hair on my hand, his parted flesh between my lips tingling.  This was a very good idea…  I do manage pull away and heal the wound healed, his eyes flutter, and I’m darting down the street cloaked by shadows again.  I feel alive and energized, it’s intoxicating… I throw on a burst of speed and dart past a car roaring up the street, wasting some of the blood I just drank to keep up, careless and free.

I go home, what a rare find!  And check my mail, why does the postal service fucking spam everyone so?  Do I want a yellow pages, a million coupons to places I will never eat, even if I was alive?  I toss the dominos coupons away last after looking at their new grilled sandwiches.  Part of me really misses food, I want to WANT to take a bite but as soon as something that was once delicious comes to my lips they recoil repulsed by the ball of rancid fat and grease before me.   I only love blood, and everything else is a memory, even having a nice girl taking care of me.  Among the mail there is one relevant piece, a small electric bill addressed to my dead buddy Dean Ritcher.  I took his life when I flew into town.  Then I took his apartment, his car, and his bills as a result.  My identity theft keeps my wallet full of cash and credit card scams take care of my major purchases.  Having him quit his job without suspicion was the only hard part, but I manage.

I go back into my apartment, enter the security code.  It’s slightly warmer in here; I keep it around 60 because it’s practical and not so suspicious.  Same reason a keep a few bits on nonperishable food in the cupboard. 

I pay the bill online and then open the notebook MJ gave me.  The testament of Longinus…  I burned through the first book Malediction in about 40 minutes.  I read the words of the Bastard, the Soldier, and the Son of Satan.  He was the opposite of Christ in every fashion, fulfilled every vice, and lived without fear or regret, and inversed Christ’s entire life.   He had 12 criminals, one who he betrayed, and after turning into the damned starved for 40 nights in the desert and passed Satan’s tests.  The tip of the spear of Destiny, I am fascinated to learn was made from a meteor and was lost before the flood and refound.  It was given to Pilate as a gift and he gave it to his corrupt and favored centurion. 

At the tomb of Christ a dark angel told them it was the purpose of the damned to show man sin and instill fear into them so that they will seek the glory of good, he couldn’t feed on Christ’s followers.

Just like the bible I have a hard time believing it, where is he now then?  He was immortal and very powerful right?  Is he sleeping in a grave somewhere?  And how is this text any more believable than then the stories of the bible?  What elders are pulling the strings and benefitting from this text?  And why would I want to exemplify the creed of surely the most evil man I’ve ever heard of?   He was cursed for his sin, he deserved it.  And when I tried to kill myself and instead was embraced, in that snow bank long ago, maybe I deserved it too… but I believe in good, and even as wicked as I am in my inherit nature, I still revere life because it is better than me.  Even some of most wretched of mortals is better than the most pious of these Sanctified, and me too.