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A dry click met Cygnus' ears. The Desert Eagle was empty. He threw the empty gun in anger and pulled a curved dagger from his black duster. He held the knife to his wrist. Do it you pussy! Do it and end this! His hand was shaking so badly he started to cut into the black fur. When he felt his bare skin below the knife he started to press harder. Just do it! It's not like it matters! Do you think your existence is the only thing keeping the vampires at bay? No! It's the Masquerade that keeps them in the shadows; you have nothing to do with it! If you hate all the strife and hate why not end it!? The six foot five black lab whipped the knife across the room and into the T.V. shattering the screen. He stood at the counter licking the blood from the shallow cut on his wrist. I can't die before Mike. I've been after him for too long. What the hell was I thinking? He tried to convince himself that that was why he couldn't finish it by his own hand. But that little voice in the back of his head knew the truth. You're a wuss. You're pathetic, that's why you can't do it. In the meantime he did need to pay the rent and buy some food. Cygnus was still breathing heavily from the strain of trying to, but at the same time stop, from slitting his wrists. He tried to shake the sharpness back into the room. The scotch had done its job quite well. There was still time in the night, he could check the Huntsman board in Cleo's for an easy target. Cygnus went to the still sparking T.V., unplugged it, and pulled out his knife and sheathed it. He then went to his room.

He had fortified his bedroom with a heavy steel plated door; triple locked from this side, and can be sextuple locked from the inside. It had to be a fortress; it was where he kept his weapons. The walls were covered in gun racks, deadly swords, throwing knives, maps covered in red marks, and stakes. Dozens of stakes. The only things not made of metal and bolted to a wall or floor was the bed and the lamps. The silver Desert Eagle held a special place among the multitude of weapons. He set it on the nightstand next to his bed. The round he spent tonight would be the last this gun would see for awhile, the rounds for it were incredibly expensive. Cygnus stood in the middle of the room and stared at his walls. This is where all of his money went. Every penny he earned went to ammo for his guns and new sharpening stones for his blades. The knife on his belt was Cygnus's favorite blade. It had a perfect wave with a hook at the end. The Greek mural on the side added a sense of nobility to the blade. Not only was it a beautiful and deadly weapon, it was also the first knife he ever owned. It was good in close quarters, but he would need something bigger. He pulled a shortsword down from the wall. The hand guard was made of skulls with blades coming out of their foreheads. There was a ball and the bottom of the handle, covered in small spikes. The blade fit perfectly into the hidden pocket in his duster. He finished admiring his blades and moved on to picking out a good weapon... that he had ammo for. He had plenty of shotgun shells, but that was only because he had no sawed off shotgun. It would be hard to carry an uncut shotgun around. He opted for his Mac 10. Plenty of rounds for this gun. He had two homemade quick switch clips. All he had to do was pop out one of the clips, spin it around, and there was another fully loaded clip. He loaded all four clips, and still had some left. He moved to his SAA. A lead spewing hand cannon that in the right hands could theoretically pump six of those rounds into a target in under three seconds. He fully loaded the gun and his quick loader, but those were his last rounds for this gun. That was all he would need tonight. On his way out he locked his bedroom door. Outside his door Cygnus stared at the stairs. They better get that damn elevator working.

Mike ran across the rooftops, leaping across alley ways. He dropped into an alley he knew the other three could find him. He leaned against the wall, trying to forcibly close the gaping, smoking hole in his chest. The elementalist had missed his heart by inches. The flesh around the wound had been seared, making it impossible to close himself. Soon the sound of hoof beats meat his sensitive ears, they were Harks. Soon a door exploded into splinters. Hark came into the alley carrying two of the raccoons.

"You ok Mike?"

"Do I look fucking alright!? Give me one of those Kine." Hark handed over a raccoon. Mike sunk his fangs into the pathetic creatures neck, puncturing his jugular. Mike gulped down the blood as it flooded from the holes. The hole in his chest slowly started to close. When the blood stopped flowing he started to suck on the raccoon's neck like it was a lollipop. He drained its blood until he was sucking on a dry vein. He dropped the withered husk of fur and bone to the ground. The rush of drinking that much blood had Mike panting, and shaking.

"Heh...heh... how do I look?"

"The hole isn't closed."

"Oh thanks asshole. I still gotta get to work. That damn bitch, I'm gonna have to go all the way back home, change my clothes, take a shower. Even then the smell of burnt fur probly' won't come out, then I have to go to work and answer a bunch of stupid questions about my job, being asked by some asshole who's never even done my job before!" There was complete silence in the alley. Hark held out the other raccoon,

"Want this one too?" Mike slapped the Kine out Harks paw. It groaned as it hit the pavement.

"No I don't want it! I just wanna get to work, and get home without a fucking incident. Is that too much to ask!?"

"You probly didn't need to attack them, could've just run." Mike mulled the thought over in his mind.

"They had it fucking coming. If I had just run they would've been waiting there tomorrow night, and the next night. I don't want to do that every evening, besides, we got a few more for Elysium." Mike examined the hole in his chest,

"Where's Jorgen and Jan?"

"They took the other two to Elysium. You could call in to work."

"I can't call into work you ass! Have you ever seen an elementalist shoot lighting like that?"

"Yes, but that was almost a century ago. The younger generation of mages is really coming along." Mike turned and started to walk back to his Haven.

"Take that one to Elysium; I'll try to make it later. Hey, while you're there tell Marie I want a transfer."

"You've asked her hundreds of times, why do think it'll work this time?" Mike laughed as he kept walking,

"Heh...couldn't hurt."

Cygnus made it Cleo's at nine-thirty. Cleo's was a small bar about four blocks from Cygnus' apartment. While the front was your standard dive bar, the back was where the real show was at. The back was full of Hunters, Slayers, Mages, and even a few Vampires that had allied with mortals. Cygnus walked straight through to the back and right up to the corkboard in the back. This board displayed any bounties up for grabs. The marks were anything from a Frenzying vampire, to ghosts that required an exorcist. Cygnus wanted something that paid well, his options were very limited. He opened his phone, hoping that he would find something on the board worthwhile.

"Yo Cygnus! Hold on a second!" Cygnus closed his phone and smacked himself in the forehead with it. That voice, the voice that grated on his ears like a rusty cheese grater.

"What is it Quinn, and it had better be worth my time." Quinn was an abnormally skinny rat, missing half of his whiskers, and a third of his tail, and tonight he had his son with him.

"I want you, to take Quinn Jr. with you on a hunt... are you drunk?" Cygnus couldn't help but laugh at this request and his question.

"I'm not drunk." The scotch was doing its job nicely, the room was tilting slightly. Besides, I was going after that werewolf that found its way into town."

"No no no no no, the other hunt." Quinn completely ignored Cygnus' bloodshot eyes. Cygnus looked at the board.

"I'm not an exorcist." Quinn shook his head, as if the answer was obvious.

"Not the exorcism, the unguarded Sabbat fledglings. That's perfect for his first hunt." Cygnus ripped the paper from the board,

"It only pays a hundred! That would barely pay for the ammo I would use killing them! Why don't you take him yourself?" Quinn tapped the cast on his ankle, Cygnus hadn't noticed it before.

"Fine, but only if you pay for the babysitting. Four hundred dollars, no less."

"C'mon, just think of it as repaying a debt."

"How about you give me five hundred dollars and I stop raising the price." Quinn sighed and dug out his filthy check book, quickly wrote out a check for five hundred dollars, and handed it to Cygnus.

"You might want to wait and cash that on Monday. Alright Jr. go with Mr... what's your last name Cyg?"

"None of your damn business, let's go."

Jr. followed Cygnus out the door and down the street. Cygnus called the client and gave them a time to be at Cleo's to drop off the money. The warehouse the fledglings were being held in was only a couple blocks away, so they didn't bother with a cab. It was quite a while before Cygnus broke the silence, "Do you know what we'll be up against?"

"I've never seen a Sabbat before." Cygnus couldn't help but laugh.

"Of course you've never seen one; you wouldn't be alive if you had. A newbie like you wouldn't be able to fight a single one alone. But their fledglings, that's a different story. The Sabbat are vampires who do not honor the Masquerade. They believe that their embrace makes them better than mortals, and that it should be flaunted. They go out every night and tear up as much of the city as they can."

"I understood the word Vampire, but what's the Masquerade, and embrace?" Cygnus wanted to call Quinn right here and tear him a new one for not teaching his son even the basics of vampire terminology.

"Don't worry about all that right now, just know that these vampires are really weak."

"Why are they so weak?" Damn this kid asked a lot of question.

"They're weak because the Sabbat only feed and train new Kindred that have a personal tie to an existing member. When a mortal, or Kine as they call us, is changed into a vampire, or Kindred, it is called an Embrace. Once changed the Kine has no idea who, or what they have become. This new Kindred is called a Childe, or Childer for plural. They won't realize that it is blood they hunger for. It is up to the Kindred that Embraced them to explain what has happened. That person is called the Sire."

"Wouldn't it be a better idea to train all of their Childer?"

"Hey, I didn't say the Sabbat were a smart group. Only fledglings that have a close personal tie to an existing member are allowed to be raised. But be careful while we're in there. The fledglings frenzy very easily, the same with Rotschreck."

"What's Rotschreck?" Cygnus was about ready to throttle this kid.

"Your father didn't teach you about Rotschreck and Wassail?"

"No." Quinn didn't teach this kid a damn thing.

"Alright. Wassail is what it's called when a vampire frenzies because he hasn't fed in some time and gets hurt. The combination of those two things sends them into a rage where they try to feed until they are sated. Rotschreck is the vampiric irrational fear of even the smallest amount of fire. The same applies here. If they haven't fed and are even in the same room as fire they might frenzy trying to get away from it."

"I understand that now, but my dad kept talking about Gangrel and Ventrue. What are those?"

"God! Didn't he teach you anything?"

"He taught me how to shoot."

"Fine, There are five Clans that each Bloodline stems from. First, the Gangrel are primal beasts. They are vampires that can awaken the true beast in themselves. While we already are beast like, they can become monstrous creatures... Never mind the other clans right now, we're here, we'll talk later."

"No we don't check for that anymore, we've got a new system that never fails, it checks itself and sends a report every day at two p.m." Mike slumped back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut. This auditor had been keeping Mike from his job for three hours. He didn't have any of his questions ready, and he was using outdated forms. He was ready to rip his head off.

"But you still are technically checking the system right?" Mike leaned forward and looked at the floor,

"I guess, sort of. But we aren't the ones running the test."

"But you are checking the report, which means you are checking the system." Mike had had enough of the stupid questions.

"No damn it! You asked if we are performing the tests! We are not! The system does it itself, I'm done!" Mike stormed out of the room and into his boss' office.

"I don't know where you found that dumb ass but he has no fucking clue what forms we're using now. I finished my program for tonight so I'm heading home." Mike was the best programmer the company had, so he let Mike go home for the night. Of course he didn't go home.

In minutes Mike was outside the church. Melko, the prince of Rock Fall, had used his connections to halt the destruction of this gargantuan church in order to use it as Elysium. Mike parked in the alley and burst in through the back door. He went straight for the table that usually held the goblets of blood, the table was empty. He cursed aloud and sat down in a corner by himself. It wasn't long before Hark found him.

"How was work?" Mike leaned forward and covered his face with his paws. The half dog half horse centaur had been hanging around with Mike for several decades. He had met Hark while on a job the prince had sent him on. Hark had started as his target. He had gone under Wassail in the middle of the street, and Mike had been sent to kill him for his violation of the Masquerade. Instead of killing Hark, Mike pulled a few strings, called some people, and managed to bring Hark in alive. Instead of being killed Hark was put into Torpor for one decade, long enough to reduce the strength of his blood. Once he emerged from his Torpor he sought out Mike. They have been inseparable since then. The wolves he had been with earlier that night were new to the city. The Kindred rarely leave the city they inhabit, and even more rarely do they leave their country, but these two came all the way from Amsterdam to Rock Fall. They refuse to say why, but it was rumored that a Blood Hunt had been called on them, so to escape they chartered a ship here.

"How do you think work went? Where are the twins?"

"Prepping the three Kine we got earlier. Oh... and Marie said no to your request."

"I know, where is she?"

"I think she went up to the Primogen lounge... you want to go see her?" Mike pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time; it was one o'clock, still time for a couple minutes of groveling. Mike walked to the stairs, but was stopped short by someone tapping on the microphone on the stage. Standing on the stage was Melkos sheriff, Bangor, and a smaller Nosferatu.

The Nosferatu was a white ferret dressed in a black pin stripe suit, his head topped with a black fedora. The newcomer must have been powerful indeed; Mike could feel an overbearing feeling of despair wash over him as the ferret approached the mic. The ferret spoke in a barely audible raspy whisper.

"Hello everyone, my name is Gimbal, and our beloved prince has just named me Master of Elysium in this particular establishment. Don't worry, I won't be making any major changes here, I just wanted to introduce myself here tonight and to let you know that I am here to serve you. If you have any concerns please feel free to approach me."

With that Gimbal sat down in his chair on the stage and bowed his head, as if in deep thought. The room remained silent for several more minutes before the other Kindred started going about their business. Hark looked to Mike, "I don't like the new Master of Elysium. His aura makes me feel sick."

"You're dead, you can't feel sick." Mike turned and made his way up to the second floor. The truth was the new guy gave him a bad feeling too. Nosferatu gave everyone a bad feeling, that was just the way the Embrace affected them, but this one was different. The feeling of despair and sadness was overwhelming when he was talking. They went up several stories and stopped in front of a heavy metal door. Mike knocked and waited for a response. The door was opened by a huge eagle holding a shotgun. The eagle waved the two inside. Mike wasted no time in searching for his Primogen. The top floor of the church had been converted so that during the day the sun cannot penetrate the darkly painted windows. The only lights in the room were red tinted wall sconces, giving the room a blood colored glow. Each Primogen, or leader of a Clan or Bloodline, was given their own area of this floor to conduct business, feed privately, or allows members of their Clan or Bloodline to sleep in during the day. Marie was seated in her Primogen booth as usual, but tonight she was not alone. There was a tall black mane lion sitting with her. His sharp business suit and black tie showed that he was obviously a Ventrue.

"Marie, it's nice to see you again." Mike tried to hide his sneer as he entered the room.

"I bet it is, now cut the shit. I have a special job, offered to me by our associate here. I'm sure you know of the hunter Cygnus." Mike stiffened at the mention of the labs name. "As usual the Ventrue are paying others to do their dirty work, and the one he chose just happened to be me. And now I'm paying you to do it."

"Do what?"

"Kill Cygnus." A smile spread across Mikes' lips exposing his sharp teeth, but his smile soon faded.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch, apparently Cygnus is responsible for the death of our associates son, and he is willing to pay handsomely for his head on a plate. I get paid, and you get your own personal feeding grounds, right near the Rack. We don't have a lot of time, so what do you say?" Mike answered before she even finished her sentence.

"Deal. Do you know where he is?" The lion stood from his leather chair and hand Mike a piece of paper with an address written on it.

"He'll be here, but you better get a move on. We just got a call from him saying he's on his way." Mike turned and bolted out the door, dragging Hark with him without bothering to ask about why Cygnus called them.

Cygnus walked around to the back of the warehouse, making sure the young rat didn't stray too far. It was a typical alley, nothing too dirty or too clean about it. But the door to the building was different. It was brand new and had three different locks on it. "Do you know how to pick locks kid? Quinn just shruggged and shook his head. "Well it looks like we aren't doing this the quiet way." Cygnus raised his boot and slammed it into the door. The frame shattered and the door flew inward. He ran inside, drawing his Mac 10. Quinn followed, pulling a chrome .45 from his pocket.

Mike heard the door shattering and saw the shaft of light from the streetlights. Just as he was about to leap down he felt someone grab the back of his shirt and leap onto his back. He screamed as he fell to the ground.

Cygnus heard the scream and came to halt, and just as he did a mass of fur and flesh fell to the ground in front of him. In front of him lay Mike, doing his best to hold off a huge bull laying on top of him. Cygnus raised his gun and leveled it at Mikes head, and just as he did he noticed the smell of decay. It assaulted his nose.

Mike held the bulls horn with one paw, and in the dim light he could see that one of the bulls eyes hung by a string. He pushed at the zombified bull, unable to break the creatures grip. From the corner of his eye he saw Cygnus standing at the door with a gun leveled at his head. He was about to call for help when the door closed again and a rotting mass that was once a doberman leapt at Cygnus. Mike shouted, "Behind you!"

Cygnus turned and fired a single round into the rotting dobermans head, dropping it with a single round. He then turned and fired into the back of the bulls head. Mike pushed the creature off of him and leapt to his feet. He looked into the face of the fur who saved his life, which was also the face of his most hated enemy. "Why'd you do that?"

"Why did you warn me?" Before Mike could answer Hark came running from the shadows, followed by dozens of the undead creatures.

"Mike! What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know!" He shouted back to Hark. Hark turned and lashed out with his claws, goring the creatures with no effect. Just as the trio at the door turned to run, a mountain of rotting flesh fell before them. Dozens more undead started to rise from the pile, grasping at the young mouse. The three retreated to the middle of the warehouse. As they did they saw forms moving from the darkness just under the windows. They were completely surrounded by zombies. Hark continued to slash with his claws, cleaving limbs from the creatures. Mike stepped in to help. Cygnus and Quinn opened up with their weapons, dropping several of the undead, but no matter how many they killed more seemed to step from the shadows to take their fallen comrades place.

In the basement, awoken by the sound of combat Rem sat up in his bed. The buck looked around at his laboratory. He stood, and started for the stairs. On the way he grabbed a huge scimitar leaning against the wall. He sprinted up the stairs and threw the door open, not prepared for what he saw.

A door at the south end of the building slammed against a wall. Cygnus looked just in time to see a familiar buck standing in the doorway.

(Ah yes, the plot thickens. What is in store for our little group? Really I'm not sure myself, I'm just kind of pulling ideas off the top of my head right now. I really hope someone is reading this...)