A Scripta

Dmitrius and Kalius were still standing, covered in blood not their own. When the last creature went down to Kalius' sword, and the silence deafened the area they were in, they turned to look at each other and kissed passionately, thanking the gods that they had survived. Corpses - some still moving, others quiet in death, their blood drained from them - littered the floor. They had moved through the foyer, up the stairs and into the bedrooms. Death and destruction, shattered glass and torn bodies, were throughout the hallway and in some of the rooms. They passed some other surviving Camarilla vampires, a couple of humans wandering in shock, soon to be set upon by the vampires.

Hanging over the stairs was a dead black-furred creature with a huge head and upper body, and tiny legs. Dmitrius kicked it over. It fell to the floor below with a wet plop. "God damn Tszimice."

"I don't think I want to know."

"Flesh crafters of the Sabbat. They alter people and animals into whatever form they want." They reached the bottom of the stairs. The blood was at least an inch thick in the room.

Rowena came around the corner from the kitchen hallway. She looked like she had a fight with a thorn bush, she had pricks of blood all over her. "Dimitrius!" she cried. She deftly jumped over the corpses and ran to him. She put her arms around him, then did the same to Kalius. "Are you two all right?"

"Yes," Dmitrius said, and reached for his lover's hand.

Rowena looked around the room, taking it in for the first time.

A male vampire walked proudly out of the side room. "Rowena! Great party!" He picked his way around and headed out the door.

Josef came out of the kitchen. "We're ready," he said.

"What for?" asked Dmitrius.

"Allard," Rowena snapped, and headed to the kitchen.

Dmitrius and Kalius followed Rowena. There, bound with plastic handcuffs to the chair, sat Allard, his blue suit torn and stained in places with black blood. He looked up and focused on Rowena. Four other people were in the room: Josef, a jaundice-looking man, a long-haired woman in a leather biker jacket, and another gaunt woman who look like she stepped out of some yuppie catalog.

"We have a quorum," Josef said and focused on Allard. "Are you, or are you not, a member of the Sabbat?"

Allard looked up defiantly. The gaunt woman came over to him and scratched his face, then licked the blood from her nail. She turned, and went back to her place. The wound smoked, beginning to fill the room with the stench of sulphur. "Ask again," she said, and sucked on her finger. Josef asked again.

"I am a member." Then he started to scream. The vampires watched impassively.

Dmitrius turned around and took Kalius by the waist, guiding him out. "It's going to be a while."

Two hours before dawn, Josef emerged from the kitchen. Dmitrius, Kalius, and a few other vampires and humans had stacked up the flesh and bodies. The vampires they set outside in the back lawn. The humans and flesh creatures they brought down to the garage. It was from one of these runs that Kalius returned seeing Dmitrius talking to Josef.

"...he was going to try and kill me."

Josef nodded. "So it seems. Rowena was going to be his weapon for that, and then eventually he was going to turn her over to the Sabbat."

"Did he say why he joined them?"

"He was Blood Bonded to a Toreador wench and he wanted to get out of it."

"How did that happen?"

"I didn't ask, and I really didn't care."

Dmitrius saw Kalius. He smiled at him. "Kalius, love, can we ask a favor?"

"Of course," he said, coming up to them.

Josef said, "Allard is sentenced to meet the sun. Can you make sure he does?"

"Of course, I will."

Dmitrius and Kalius manhandled the yelling Allard out to the lawn. Dmitrius gave Allard a glare, kissed Kalius goodbye, and headed back into the house to take a quick shower before bed. Allard shouted at Kalius, "How dare you! Release me now!"

"Oh, shut up," Kalius said, summoning his sword, and running him through the chest with it. It went right through the flimsy wood of the back of the chair, impaling him. The look of horror on Allard's face was priceless.

"You tried to kill my beloved," Kalius snarled at him, getting very close to his face. "This is a mercy. If I had my way I would cut you into pieces and let you heal, and do it all over again for years and years. Remember that as you burn, vampire."

The sun cleared the horizon. Kalius watched it, ignoring the smell of burning flesh all around him. He then turned to Allard, and watched as his skin started burning under his clothes, the smoke wafting up in the air. Within an hour, Kalius was surrounded by piles of ashes. He retrieved his sword, went in the house and took a shower. His bedroom had been spared, so he was able to collapse in a clean bed.

When he awoke, it was raining. Two people were scrubbing the floor, a wet-vac off to the side. Kalius went to the backyard to see the chair still there, the pile of ash much smaller from the rain.