A Scripta

Near midnight, Dmitrius headed through New Thebes toward the parking lot that he liked to frequent, which usually had a goodly contingent of Warriros, his preferred prey. He peered around in the dark. Freakshow, Freakshow, Circle...where were the Warriors?

He didn't come here to hunt, he came to check on the Kindred he had set to guard the area. Dmitrius frowned - he probably got killed by his Sabbat "friends" or was staked in one of the caves and paralyzed.

He walked along a bit and could see a place where the parking lot had been disturbed. No, not quite disturbed. There was a hole in it that was blacker than the darkness, and he was very close to stepping into it. He looked around - then went in closer. He tested the area, to see if it would hold his weight, and he fell slightly into the hole, sliding about four feet.

He smelled blood. Kindred blood.

Dmitrius turned and followed the scent, which went across the parking lot. He saw another dark spot in the concrete next to a store - it could have been oil, it could have been blood. He bent to it and touched it - no, not oil. It was dried and crusty, and he scratched at it, sniffing at what was under his nails. Definitely blood.

Licking his fingers absently, he got up and surveyed the area. Whoever killed this far out in the open, and this messily, must have been desperate.

He went down a little further and saw that a door had been cracked open to the back of a convenience store. He pushed open the door. The smell of blood was instantly stronger in here. He slowly walked forward in a crouch, ready to spring to avoid if it was bigger than him, ready to beat it to a pulp if it wasn't. He heard a sound and froze for half a second, noting where it came from and putting more weight opposite from where it was.

Something crashed, Dmitrius stood up, and was tackled by a yelling man. His eyes were bright red and his fangs were bared - Dmitrius caught him easily by the throat. "Orphan?"

The man hissed and lashed out with hands that were claws. Well, this answered him what clan he was. Dmitrius threw him into a door that led out into the store proper. The man fell hard against the register's counter, knocking over the register. Dmitrius kept walking, and slit his wrist as he did so. Dmitrius had an angry look on his face, and it got even more angry as he stepped into the store.

Bodies were all over the floor, throats torn open as if by a newly fledged childe. They were all civilians. Dmitrius advanced, fury now etched in his featues. "What. Have. You. Done."

Suddenly the hissing vampire stopped, and looked up at Dmitrius. If he was a dog, his tail would be between his legs.

"Where are my Warriors?"

The vampire said nothing, so Dmitrius grabbed him by the throat again and lifted him. "WHERE ARE MY WARRIORS!"

He choked, and Dmitrius squeezed, his fingers going into the vampire's throat, and wrapping around his trachea, but not squeezing it. Yet, so he could still speak. "Well."

"I--I--was buried alive!"

Dmitrius eased up.

"I only got out a few days ago, and I was so hungry..."

"I can see that. Who buried you?"

"A green man...with spikes. He opened up the ground and it swallowed me! I swear to God!"

"Do you know this man's name?"

"Jade...?"

Dmitrius let go of him. He probably chased the Warriors out, cleaning up the area like all the heroes do. The name was familiar...

He checked his comm and scrolled down the names. Sure enough, there was a Jade Najah in the group. He called up his profile. "This him?"

His guard stumbled over and peered at the comm. "Yeah...I think so."

Dmitrius put the comm back in his pocket. He whirled on his heel and stormed out, yelling, "Clean up this mess."