You walk through the foyer of the club, around the the dancefloor and sit in a cubicle in a dark corner. From here, the thumping drum 'n' bass from the speakers is reduced to a level that you can hold a conversation, while it would be difficult for anyone to overhear you.
"L.J. Granger, at your service," says the man opposite you. You look up and take in your rescuer. L.J. Granger must be around 6'6", and despite his slender appearance and the full length leather jacket he is wearing, you can tell that he is muscular. He is black, but his skin has a waxy, pallid appearance. He has short, curly black hair and a fairly sizeable goatee. "How you feelin' now?" As he speaks, you notice the points of his elongated canine teeth from under his facial hair.
"," you reply. "Thanks for helping me, I don't know what came over me...I just lost-"
"That's the Beast. Happens to all of us once in a while. Kinda takes over your body if you git scared or too hot under the collar. I reckon you're prob'ly new to this, seeing as I ain't sin you around before."
"Yeah, I just woke up this evening and I was...like this."
"Who sired you?"
You've never heard the phrase before, so all you say is, "Huh?"
A pretty barmaid comes up to you and places two glasses of red liquid in front of you. You don't recall anyone ordering drinks, but L.J. just nods at the barmaid and sips his glass. You bring your own to your lips and feel a now familiar surge of strength and vitality as the blood passes your lips.
"I mean, who embraced you?"
"Emb..."
"Oh boy. OK, let me tek it from the top, since you ain't got no clue what I'm talkin' 'bout. You're a vampire, got it? Me, you, a couple of other people in this here club, we're vampires. We call each other Kindred. All of us have a sire, kinda your mommy or daddy in this here unlife. They made us what we are. 'S either a curse or a blessing, depending on how y'all feel 'bout the situation. Oh, and the embrace is what our sires did to us to make us Kindred. They drain your blood 'til you're good 'n' dead, then give you some of their blood and BOOM! One Kindred." Not unsympathetically, he adds, "so, who's your sire then?"
"Err...I think her name's Tereza. I'm actually looking for her because when I woke up tonight she was gone."
"Tereza? Yeah, I know her. Seen her round here coupla times. I'd keep it under yer hat that you're lookin' for her, some folks don' take too kindly to Kindred who ain't got no sires. Means yer ain't raised prop'ly.
"Great. That means I definitely have to find her, and soon. Know where she is?"
"Nope. As I said, I only seen her 'round here a coupla times. Better off askin' Ginger. She owns this here club, 'n' no one comes in without her knowin'."
"Including me?"
"Why d'you think I came out to help yer? Why d'you think your sittin' here now instead of kicked out into the gutter?"
"Fair point. So where can I find Ginger?"
"She'll be upstairs in her office, though I s'pose it's more of a lounge than a...aww, hell, you'll see what I mean soon enough. 'Fore you go though, kid, I reckon y'all may need some instructin' 'bout the rules of our society."
"Rules?"
"Yeah, it's how we can keep on existing without being discovered by humans, and how Kindred can all get along." |