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Vampires: The Masquerade Bloodlines - Turning Teeth

Algernon Blake was your average writer trying to make it big in Hollywood. But after a one-night stand, he's pulled into a Byzantine world of intrigue and manipulation among the undead. Can Algernon retain his humanity while satisfying the beast that rests within? A retelling of Vampire: the Masquerade Bloodlines with a male Tremere. Minor story differences. this is a unfinished fanfic from ff.net By: thebrillaintgrandmaster which i thought was really amazing and wanted to share it with you all

grimmhorizon · Derivasi dari game
Peringkat tidak cukup
31 Chs

Chapter 20: Southland 4-4

Two weeks later…

"Arms up." Nines instructed me.

I did as he said, keeping my arms up and turning my body to an angle. We were in the empty lot of the Last Round and Nines was giving me one of my nightly fighting lessons. At first, he went easy on me, but he sure as hell wasn't anymore. As soon as I adjusted my stance, Nines used Celerity and blurred towards me, appearing in front of me in less than a heartbeat. In a split second before he threw his punch, he activated Potence, a blueish-white electrical aura engulfing his arms and chest. I barely had enough time to block, and even then the punch threw me ten feet to the side, making me hit the ground hard.

"Need to learn how to activate your disciplines faster, kid." He instructed me.

Getting up from the ground, I activated Celerity, then Potence myself and ran towards him. I was fast, very fast, but not as fast as Nines since I was still using the two disciplines. I threw a punch, but he countered, grabbing my wrist and judo-flipping me over his shoulder. While I was on the ground, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, using the maneuver he taught me and wrapping my legs around his neck. Nines simply stood up straight, taking me with him and slammed me down to the ground hard enough to crack it. That pretty much loosened my grip, so Nines got on top of me. I rushed to protect my face as he began punching repeatedly.

"Now I'm on top of ya." He said as he threw punches. "What are you gonna do now?"

I knew the answer. Mentally, I commanded my coat - Justine's coat - to move. The tail of the coat stretched and wrapped around Nines like a tendril, flinging him across the lot. He landed into a garbage can with a loud crash and I heard him groan.

"Fuckin' blood magic…" He muttered as he got up. "You Tremere always got your tricks."

"We all have to have some." I said, grinning. "You got your grenade, I got my enchanted coat."

"You ain't always gonna have access to your magic, kid." He told me. "One of these nights, you're gonna be low on blood. You won't be able to use your tricks without goin' into frenzy. You'll have to rely on hand-to-hand."

I deactivated Celerity and Potence and shrugged, dusting the dirt from the ground off of the back of my coat.

"I'll be prepared if that kind of thing happens. For now? I'm going to rely on my tricks." I told him.

"Sabbat chase you in here, Cammy?" Damsel asked as I took a seat. Just when I thought I was going to enjoy my night, she had to pick a fight. I never really spoke to her before, but I'd seen her, and she very obviously had a problem with me. It's probably because she thought I was Camarilla, which I had no intention of being a part of. She probably thought I was going to be part of the Camarilla because I wasn't an Anarch - I was kind of putting off joining any political groups, not just because of what Justine told me, but also because I never really liked that stuff even before being Embraced.

Damsel was hot. Annoyingly, obnoxiously hot. She'd be okay if she weren't so loud and...well, that's it, loud. She had fiery red hair, deathly pale skin, and blue eyes, and I imagine she was this pale before her undeath as well. Damsel reminded me of one of those college girls that protested literally everything because her parents were very conservative. She has a petite, sporty frame - but I knew enough about her clan, the Brujah to know that she could hit harder than fifty people twice my size. She wore black pants and a white tee shirt that had Soviet-era art on it. She also wore a green beret, Che Guevara style.

"What are you even talking about?" I asked.

She scoffed, immediately hostile. "Heard Nines saved your ass again a couple of weeks ago. That's why he's teaching you how to fight, isn't it? You think LaCroix would've stopped counting his money long enough to get your back, jack?"

I sighed deeply. "First of all-"

She cut me off immediately, poking her finger at my chest, saying, "Cammy, you'd have a whole lot less above your neck if it hadn't been for Nines calling the prince out in that courtroom. Shit! Looks like things worked out for LaCroix in the end. Got himself a new errand boy out of it."

Now she was pissing me off. The fires within me ignited, the Beast calling for blood. If she didn't get her fucking hand off of me, I was going to throw her through the nearby window. As I made eye contact, I could see the fires ignite within her as well. There was an intense moment as our vampiric natures wrestled with each other through our stare. Who the fuck did she think she was? I was just here trying to enjoy a drink.

"What the fuck did I do to piss you off, huh?" I growled.

"You're a tool for some cape." She growled right back. "You don't have to say a word to start pissing me off."

I tried to calm the urges of the Beast, but I was failing miserably. I got up out of my chair and stood so that I towered over her, but she didn't look the slightest bit intimidated. The telltale blue electrical aura began to engulf her, and I could tell she was going to throw a punch, but suddenly a figure pushed us apart. It was Jack, who I hadn't seen at all until now.

"Cool it, kiddos." He said firmly. "'Least go out for dinner first."

"She just came and started shit for no fucking reason!" I barked. "I didn't do shit."

"You don't need to do shit!" Damsel yelled. "Cammy piece of trash! Do you know where you fucking are?! What we stand for?!"

"Damsel, cool it." Jack ordered her, his voice steely calm and low, almost a growl. "Pick and choose your battles."

She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't. Instead, she just glared at me and practically stormed off downstairs presumably to punch something or passionately read Das Kapital to a crowd of children. Now that she had her back turned to me, I could take advantage. Tear her apart, maybe have a little fun in the meantime. Show her that fucking with me comes with a world of hurt.

Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I may have not needed to breathe, but the cleansing power of taking a deep breath was still there. The Beast didn't quiet, but it seemed to accept that I didn't want to do what it was suggesting, so it faded into the background noise of my mind. When I opened my eyes, Jack was looking at me with an arched eyebrow. I gave him a thumbs up, indicating that I was doing okay.

"I'm fine." I said. "Long time no see, Jack."

"Hell yeah, it has." He told me. "Sorry for Damsel. She gets real edgy when Camarilla types walk in."

"I'm not Camarilla." I told him. "What I am is trying to survive, and that happens to include doing a few things for the Prince here and there."

Jack nodded. "Fair enough. How was Santa Monica, kiddo?"

"I didn't get to do much sightseeing." I said, taking a seat back at my table. Jack chuckled and took a seat right by me.

"Can't imagine you did. Probably gettin' pushed around by every vampire with a week of seniority over you, am I right?"

"You could say that, yes."

"That's usually the way the story goes. Same old bullshit politics from when you were alive, huh? Don't it make you wanna rip someone's spine out?"

I stared at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "What? You sayin' that's just me?"

We both laughed.

"No, I wouldn't say politics is what's making me want to rip people's spines out." I told him.

"Well, that's the nature of the Beast, kiddo." Jack said. "You deal with that shit twenty four seven. Now politics? That's the stuff that makes the rich get richer, keep the powerful in power. Look at why you were in Santa Monica in the first place; cuz Prince LaCroix said so."

"I'm not doing that shit for political gain." I insisted. "Just doing it so that the Camarilla get off my ass. I guess since my Sire violated one of the Traditions, they're expecting me to be a bad apple too."

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "LaCroix is gonna hang that shit over your head 'till kingdom come, kiddo. He's gonna keep tryin' to get rid of you, lightin' the fire under your ass so that you keep doing what he says. Why do you think he sent you to Santa Monica? Cuz he never thought you'd make it back!"

That much was obvious. LaCroix clearly seemed surprised that I made it back from Santa Monica, surviving both the Sabbat warehouse and Tourette's madness, which I doubtlessly think he knew about. He probably assumed I'd be hunted down like some sort of Caitiff, or maybe that the Sabbat would destroy me in the warehouse. Now that I thought about it, the likelihood of my survival was pretty low, especially since I did all of that without knowing about anything.

"I guess I would've been toast if Nines hadn't stood up for me at the theater." I mused. "How did he survive doing that?"

"PR, man." Jack explained as if it were obvious. "'Calculated risk'. Ventrue are born in a boardroom. When Nines called him out, LaCroix realized it was time to show a carefully calculated dose of Camarilla compassion."

That much was obvious. "And from what I know about you guys, the Anarchs, you don't follow his rules."

Jack scoffed. "Damn right. LaCroix is the Prince - but only the prince of the LA Camarilla. It goes like this: telling free livin' vampires they need to be ruled is a hard sell, so the Camarilla baked up a play-nicey plan to show how great they are, that way everyone jumps on board!"

"And is it working?" I asked.

"Shit, kid. Sometimes, sometimes not." Jack admitted. "All I know is that the so-called 'Prince' is gonna have to prop me in front of a sunrise his goddamn self, cuz I'm not buying into that bullshit."

"So that's why I'm alive...PR?" I asked.

"You have to think about it this way, Al." Jack explained. "Your Sire? Her name was Justine Sanders and she was the Camarilla youth that the Prince liked to stand behind. Shit, whenever they had their goddamn meetings, half of the local Kindred would side with her! Now you got Justine, this perfect refined girl of the Camarilla, breaking one of the most fundamental rules - Siring a childe without the Prince's permission? That's a big no-no. Especially for her, especially for a Tremere."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why does it matter so much that she was a Tremere?"

"Clans like the Tremere, Ventrue, Toreador? They are the Camarilla. Most of the old assholes at the top are from those clans anyway." Jack said. "Whenever a Malkavian, a Nosferatu, or one of the Gangrel break rules, that shit's expected, y'know? But when the so-called 'noble' clans break rules? That shit's a big no-no. If it were a person that wasn't Justine, maybe someone from a different clan, someone less prim and proper, the Prince probably woulda just offed you and gave Justine some bullshit punishment. But when someone like Justine breaks the rules, both you and her get beheaded, then they sweep it under the rug quick as possible."

I mused on that for a little bit, but before I could ask another question, Skelter walked up to us.

"'Sup, Jack?" He asked, then he looked at me. "Al, just thought of something you might be able to help us out with."

I glanced at Jack and he shrugged, then I asked Skelter, "What is it?"

"Remember Patty?" He asked me.

Oh, did I remember Patty. She was the ghoul of some Toreador asshole that frequented the Last Round named Alan. He was the type of guy that surrounded himself with women to protect his fragile ego. I never liked him very much, reminded me too much of the guys I used to deal with back in college. He'd gone missing recently though, which made me assume he went missing or he died. It happened, especially to Anarchs.

"I remember Patty." I said. "I don't see her around, though. I assumed she went wherever Alan went."

"No, man. Vampire sugar daddy stopped callin', now she can't get her blood fix and she ain't as fun as she used to be." Skelter told me.

I sighed. "I'm guessing she's saying stuff she shouldn't be saying."

"She crossed the line." Skelter told me. "Only time her mouth ain't blabbin' is when it's sucking on vampire blood. She's gotta disappear, you feel me?"

Disappear. It was so final. I'd killed many people at this point, all in self-defense. I'd never gone out and sought a victim myself to kill. But it had to be done. If she was a risk to the Masquerade, that could mean deep shit to all of us.

"Damn it, Alan." I hissed. "Fine, I'll do it to uphold the Masquerade - and to show you guys I'm not some Camarilla asshole that'll rat you out to LaCroix."

"Do this shit for us, and you'll be right in my book." Skelter said. "I dunno about Damsel."

For a moment, I could hear her cursing someone out downstairs. She really knew how to give someone an ear full, I'll give her that.

"Where is Patty?" I asked.

"Word on the street is she hangs by the Confession now." Jack said. "Guess since she can't get a fix off a' any o' us, she moved on to the next club."

I grabbed my satchel off of the seat next to me and then slung it onto my shoulder.

"I'll take care of it." I told them, then I left the bar.

The Confession was one of those places that charged three hundred dollars per person to enter. Fortunately for me, that was only on weekends, and it was a Monday night, meaning the club wasn't all that busy. The inside was illuminated only with dim, red light. There were about five or six people on the dance floor, with a few people sitting at the bars. The place was pretty dead, really, but I didn't see any sign of Patty.

I walked to the bar and knocked on it to get Venus' attention. Venus was an attractive woman with shaggy black hair, deep blue eyes, revealing pink shorts, and a black crop top that plunged so low that she might as well not have been wearing it. I'd talked to her a few times when I walked into the nightclub to feed on one of the patrons, but I rarely said much to her - after all, being around attractive women made my Beast act up, more often than not.

"Ah, if it isn't Mr. Blake." She greeted me in her chirpy English accent. "Rare I see you here without you flirting with one of the lucky gals by the bar."

"Not tonight, I'm afraid." I bantered. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a girl named Patty? She's about...your height, brown-shoulder length hair, usually wears a beanie. Kinda skater girl-ish?"

"Hm…" Venus said. "Who is this girl? A beau of yours?"

I grinned at her wolfishly. "Something like that."

"Interesting." Venus said, grinning right back at me. "But yes, I've seen her. Last I saw her, she was over on the dancefloor. Interesting girl, that one. Keeps talking about vampires or something. You sure know how to pick them."

That pretty much confirmed what I feared. Most people won't believe a word you say if you go around talking about vampires, but there's always a chance that one person will believe it, and one person was too much. I looked out to the small crowd of dancing people and found her. How was I going to approach this one? Patty has seen me around, and if I told her to go with me into an alleyway, that would no doubt raise a few red flags in her head. She may not have been smart, but she was kine, and kine were great at surviving; they had a roughly two hundred thousand year track record to approve it.

After considering my options, I walked into the men's bathroom. I checked to see if I was in the stalls before looking at myself in the mirror. I used Obfuscate to make myself appear like someone else, like Alan the last time I saw him. He was a jock whenever he'd gotten Embraced, and he remained a jock throughout his afterlife too. My hair shortened and turned brown, my frame became more muscular, and my features went from hawkish to more blunt and chiseled. Of course, I didn't really turn into Alan; I just was making Patty think I was Alan.

Once I met Patty on the dance floor, she immediately stopped dancing and stared at me with wide eyes. That was a good indication that my trick was working. She ran towards me and hugged me tightly, which hurt just a little since her strength was well above that of an Olympic athlete's.

"Alan!" She shrilled. "Oh my god! Where were you?!"

"I just got in a bit of a hole, babe." Ugh. I hated calling her babe, but part of the Discipline I was using gave me intuitive knowledge of the mannerisms of the guy I was intimidating.

Patty stopped burying her face into my chest to smile up at me. "Oh my god, that is so you! There aren't a lot of you vampires out tonight, weird because I don't know of any parties going on."

Yes, she was extremely obnoxious. I fought the urge to knock her out right then and there. No, I couldn't. I had to get her somewhere private, somewhere nobody could see me...well, you know. I knew the prospect of killing a woman whose only crime was talking about vampires should be something that chills me, but whenever I thought about it, I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Ignoring my apparent moral degradation, I replied to her, "I know, right? Anyway, Patty, let's go somewhere...private, yeah? I know it's been a while since you got a fix."

"In public? Ooh, Alan…" She playfully hit my chest. "Let's go. I'm fuckin' thirsty."

I led her to the alleyway across the street and made sure there was nobody else there. Surprisingly there wasn't a soul there except for the rats. Once we were there, Patty smiled up at me. I pulled her in, my fangs popping out. I leaned in towards her neck to drain her dry...only for her to punch me so hard that I crashed into the nearby dumpster. It didn't really hurt by any means, it just surprised me. She must've seen through my Obfuscation.

"I'm not stupid, you know!" She chided. "You think I know you're not Alan! Alan is way smoother than you are!"

Groaning, I got up and rubbed the back of my head. Patty was very annoying.

"Okay, look." I began, allowing the illusion changing my appearance to drop. "You've been talking to much. I need to-"

"Oh my god!" She screamed. "You're going to kill me!"

I looked behind myself. People weren't looking, but they'll begin to if she keeps yelling.

"Calm down-"

"N-No!" She panicked. "I'm not going to let you kill me!"

And then, faster than any kine I'd seen, she took off running down the alley. Why can things never be simple?

I sprinted after her, not activating any of my disciplines because of the possibility I'd get spotted. Patty, on the other hand, wasn't being as careful. She activated Celerity and began running even faster than she was, not nearly as fast as Nines or Jack, but fast enough to raise more than a few eyebrows. When she reached the dead end of the alley, she only ran up the wall and kicked off, vaulting over the railing of the nearby fire escape and running to the roof of the building. I did the same, reaching the top seconds after she had. By the time I reached her, she was already jumping to the next building.

I went after her, jumping and landing in a roll. I reached into my satchel to take out my pistol, which had been just floating around in the bag's infinite space waiting for me to grab it. I ran after her and attempted to aim, but while I was now pretty decent with aiming, I wasn't decent enough to get a clear shot while running. When I shot, I got her in the back of her thigh, which only slowed her down a little. She was a ghoul, so she could take a gunshot a lot better than any human. Regardless, it slowed her down enough that she was unable to use Celerity anymore, which made catching up to her easy.

"You fucker!" She shrieked. Instead of trying to run again, she activated the lowest level of Potence and lunged at me, her eyes wide and crazy, almost feral. Yet again, she surprised me and tackled me, scratching at my face like some kind of madwoman. It didn't really affect me and I got her off of me, pistol-whipping her in the face and getting on top of her instead. Now was my chance, I could finish the job.

Instead of shooting her, I began to strangle her. Shooting her would cause too much noise, and I didn't want to get caught by whoever occupied the apartment building we were on. She squirmed and scratched at me, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to get me off of her. Patty was weak, nothing but an annoying, misguided ghoul who wasn't smart enough to keep her mouth shut. Now she was going straight to hell with Alan. I grit my teeth and watched as the life drained from her eyes, but the fight wouldn't leave her. So I lifted her, slamming her head into the ground so hard that blood splattered from her now cracked skull.

It was done. She lay lifeless beneath me, her eyes wide with horror and desperation.

Oh god, I'd just killed an innocent woman. I killed an innocent woman and...I liked it. What was happening to me? I knew what I did was wrong but...I didn't feel that tinge of guilt deep within my stomach. In fact, I felt nothing at all. I stood up and looked down at Patty's corpse. She may have been annoying, but she was someone and I killed her. Even though I had to, even though it was to uphold the Masquerade, I had still made the conscious decision to kill her. Now I was beginning to question if I even recognized myself.

I lifted her body and dropped down from the top of the building, landing sixty feet into the nearby alleyway. I tossed Patty's body into the dumpster for someone else to find in the morning, then I went back out into the night as if nothing had just happened.