NationStates Jolt Archive

Sam sat in his bed, silent looking down on the dirty wodden floor.
He was a normal human being, normal heigh, normal weight.. black har and blue eyes.
Sam sat just in his underware, looking down on the dirty wodden floor, the eyes changed what it looked at to his arms.
Red scars all over his arms, the bed was red in dried in blood.
He closed his eyes, Sam started to see horrific things. Blood, death, gore, pain, monsters, devils, torture, undead.. as if it just had happend yesterday. That the devil flooded the known world with pure evil and made earth the outpost of hell.

But he was not sure, he couldnt remember a thing from yesterday, less from last week. Infact, he had no idea who he was or what he did at this.. place.

Sam looked around in the room, a tiny room with a single bed, a bedtable and lamp on it. On the other side of the room was a toilet and a sink, a lonely lamp hung from the sealing to.

On the bedtable layed a bible and a book, he picked it up and opend the first page it read:

"My name is Sam, every morning I read this book to find out who I am and what I did yesterday. My name is Sam, and I have a memory problem. Remember! Always pay the man, or else you will have no where to put the book!"

"Sam.. my name is Sam".. he stroked the letter on the first page and turned it and continued reading.

"It all began with the carcrash after the burial of my mother. She had died under strange circumstances (sp?) large cuts on her back.. as if some creature had attacked her. She was a widow. Her husband, my father was a very known priest who studied alot about occult things. He to died without a good explenation. After the carcrash, I lost my memory.. and the last 10 years I have researched my past and my parrents past.
My name is Sam, and I have come to understand that something else that is not out of this world killed my parrents."

Below was a large picture:

http://dark.gothic.ru/dominius/pic/pic001.jpg

He turned another page saying.. "my name is Sam, always remember to pay the guy"

The next page was filled with blood stains and most of the text was un-readble.. so was the following 130 pages.. but on the 131st page stood somethint that he could read..

"they found me.. and drained my memory with blood.. now I have to go over it all again.. I went down to the crypt and opend the hatch.. bellow was my fear and nightmares. They haunted me.. they hunted me.. I killed them all.. I destroyed them.. but there are so many more.. so many many more.. I have to do it all over again.. I have to start it all over.. my memory is lost in blood. I have to find the way to the Angelic again..
I have to start over again with meeting with Bishop Gray.."

The letters stoped, the writing had been chaotic and shaky.. there were some blood stains on this page to.. but it could be read.

"My name is Sam.. I have to meet with Bishop Gray"


OOC: What I have in mind is a biblical RP,alot of religious characters in a modern-day gothic enviroment. I need various sorts of character from Bishops to Evil demons in human form. Vampires and Angels, everything. as long as they are original characters and not "hey-Im-a-demon-hunter-with-a-bigg-ass-n00k!"

Suggestions to character:
Angels
Demons
Vampires
Various Religious people
Occult Proffessor
Old friend to Sam's parrents

It is a very serious RP and I have no limits as how many can join. Though, Sam will be the main character and everything will circle around him.. Though people can help him in his cause and join up in a "party"
As for now I have thought out to the third act.. I dunno how many there will be. The first character I need is Bishop Gray..

If you are intrested in getting a character classified as a "Main Character" TM me your idea for the character and we can talk things over.
(the more the merrier ;) )

TAG... check TG soon.

a bump along with some pictures with shows more in detail what style I want in this RP.

http://www.shagrath.net/art/images/Troika_test.jpg

http://www.shagrath.net/art/images/noiricalANGEL_finalVER.jpg

Sam got up on his feet and took a step towards the sink, as he sat down his foot he felt something strange under it.. plastic.. looking down he noticed that the floor was filled with photographs of various places and people. On the back on each photo stood a name, a time or a place.
For all he could figure out, he had never met anyone of these people.. or been at any of these places.

He tried to search his memory.. the last memory he could remember was his mothers funeral. Though, he couldnt remember that she had actually died. Nor his childhood.. somewhere in the back of his mind he felt that he should feel very sad about this. On the other hand he didnt.

Looking around on the floor he noticed a camera, picking it up it had a tag on it reading:

"this is my camera, my seccond memory.. I take photos of places and people just to remember how they look like. Without the book the photos are worthless, without the photos the books are worthless"

Sam held it tight in his hand and walked over to the sink, drinking some water. Atleast the ordinary functions of his body were still functioning. Thirst, hunger and so on.

He wiped of his mouth with his arm.. the entire floor was.. filled with photos, he picked up one after another. Looking at them, reading on the back.

Photo: Graham White, Wisconsin, USA
The photo was a fat middle aged man in a black suit, looking very rich.
The room was an office..

Sam could remember ever being there or who he was.

The pictures varied from St.Peters Cathedral in Rome to the White House in the US. People, black, white, fat, thin.. so many.. blonde.. brownhaired.

His head started to spin and he fell down on the floor, crawling up on all four he got his eyes stuck on a single picture.

The picture was of a 12-13 year old girl laying on a wodden floor with pentagrams all over her body, she was naked. Her throat had been cut of and she was laying, from what Sam could understand in her own blood.
Her hands were tied togeather with barbed wire and her eyes had been removed.
A crusifix marked her forhead, lips stamped togeather.

Sam felt repulsed and closed his eyes, opening them again he turned the picture and read the text on the back.

"Sara White, 14 years old. I did this"

He started to breath faster and crawled up on the bed, with the picture in his hand. There had been another picture.. it must have been her father.
Sam paniced and gatherd all the photos on the floor into a pile, he didnt know what to do with them.. he had no idea, so he searched them all.
And then he found it.. Graham White, dead, crusified.
"Graham White, 50 years old. I did this in the name of God"

How? how in hell could he do this. Despite that he had no memory, he felt that it was very wrong to kill anyone. Sam closed his eyes.. and again, all he saw was undead and death.

Sam screamed and throwed himselfe on the floor.
"AAAAHH!"

There was a knock on the door..
Sam paniced again, looking under the bed he saw a pair of pants and a shirt. Grabbing them and putting them. He took the photos and stuck them under the madrass

"Sir.." came from the other side of the door, knocking again.

"just a sec" he replied and looked in the mirror wich was over the sink, red scars in his face to. Red eyes..

Sam walked over to the door and opened it..

-bump- .. what is wrong with my RP ideas? Seems like no one wants to join them -_-

bump.. again..

tag...

vampires, eh???

I'll be back :twisted:

OOC: Tag, I'm gonna TG you with a description of my vampire character.

Izual moved throughout the masses of unsuspecting people. He was a rather large looking man, standing around 6'3". Completely covered by a jet black trench coat, a baseball cap and a pair of cheap sunglasses, Izual drew no attention.

He could sense the coming of something...... not quite sure though. Izual had learnt to trust these instincts over his demonic/angelic years. He was usually right.

Izual was now on a mission. Demon hunting. Even though he had displayed his competence many times to higher angels, they still assigned him to such tasks as mere demon hunting. There was most likely a good reason for it, even if he didn't know.

Entering a dark, musky bar, Izual took a seat in the corner and ordered a glass of beer. It was time to wait.

Sam opened up the door and on the other side stood a fat short man in dirty clothes, thick brown hair and small eyes. On his shirt hung a little card wich said "Hotell manager"

"Whats wrong with you?"

Sam looked at him, not sure what he meant.. "Im not sure" he replied.

The manager looked at him sucisious.. "you are not sure?.. well, you have untill 12.00 am to get out of here if you dont pay for another day"

Sam nodded and closed the door, he dressed himselfe and took the camera and the book with him, also the pictures.
As he stood in the doorway, he glanced at the bed wich was filled with dried in blood. He wondered what had happend last night.

Confused he closed the door and left the motell, he stood on the street in a rather crappy part of town. The houses were old and the street had holes just about everywhere.
The people looked poor and well, everything about this neighbourhood looked poor.

Sam walked into the lokal bar and sat down, ordering in a beer. He sat down in a corner, opening up the book and looking at the photographs one by one.. he tried to make out some of the text in the book.

"Today.... H.... Mom..... G... t... L.A" was a piece of text that he could make out.

Mom.. L.A? His head spunn (sp?) around and he was quite confused.

The bar was a normal place. The local men came to spend their money, drinking away the miseries that were their lives. Izual observed the regular commotion, nothing note worthy happened.

When another man entered the bar, Izual thought nothing of it. Upon closer examination, Izual noticed several fluxes within the human's aura. That was definately strange. The man seemed, slightly disorientated and confused.

Izual decided to keep a close eye on him, he may yet have some significance.

tagitty, will return

I wouldn't mind playing an Angel of some kind in this RP. I'll think up a character tomorrow and wait for a good chance for him to pop up.

OOC: Hey, I have a character named Izual.. hmm.

OK, here's a character idea. My nation is essentially the second plane of Hell, controlled by the Iron Duke, the archdevil Dispator. One character of mine (or several) could be a depraved cultist and Dispator worshipper whos home and house of worship is located in whatever city we're in.

OOC: Well, I was gonna bring in one of my death angels (not as scary as the name implies...) but there seem to be a few angel prospects already. Lemme think something up and I'll jump in.

Taggage

OOC: My Izual has an interesting history! :P For those that don't know, Izual is a demon/angel but is employed be the forces of heaven.

OOC: Count me in... my character's name is Christian Bistron. Doesn't speak much, vampire.

IC:

Christian stood, walking through the alley. He stood out of the local scenery, a run down section of town: a pale man in a trenchcaot in a mainly ethno-centric area standing in an abandoned alley amongst graffiti stained walls just couldn't help but scream animosity.

It was a rather gray day, and the sky overhead was beginning to pelt with rain. He was glad he wore his trenchcoat that day. Even the undead don't like cold, he thought softly, remembering his crypt. He hadn't eaten in days, and was searching for a brief snack before he met with a rendezvouz. Regretfully, his friend wouldn't recognize him, especially after all he had been through.

As Christian walked along, a few men, maybe of a local gang, came around the corner. Several had spray cans, and most of them walked as if they were armed.

"'Sup, cracker! What the hell are you doin' round our hood?"

"I recommend strongly that you leave while you still can," he said softly, almost under his breath, but still audible enough for them to hear.

"Hear that," one of them practically narrarated for the whole group. "The cracker's got attitude! Listen, punk, you're in our territory." Several of them flicked out knives, and two pulled out guns.

"Sounds good. I'm in need of a snack."

A few 9mm rounds ejected from their clips, and one hit Christian in the head. He wiped the blood from his forehead much to the astonishment of his assailants.

"You know, that really hurts," he said, stepping forward. Most dropped their weapons and started to run, but one was paralyzed with fear. "You should have run while you could have," Christian whispered, grabbing him by the throat.

He snapped the man's neck, and he fell to the ground dead. He kneeled down, and sank his teeth into the man's neck. The blood flowed between his mouth, greeting his tongue with the familiar taste. Some of it was running down and dampening Christian's white shirt. He didn't care though. He hadn't eaten for months.

Christian removed his mouth from the man's neck, and wiped the blood off on his coat sleeve. The blood was starting to crust on his red shirt, and he closed his coat. He also began to wipe his head, and tore off a piece of cloth from the dead man's shirt. He tied it around his head to hide the bullet hole.

He stepped through again. The storm drains were flooded throughout the alley, and it helped to empahsize the reek of trash in the entire neighborhood. Christian started to run from the area, hating the stench. Ever since he became what he was, his scent was so much stronger than it used to be.

---

Twenty minutes of walking on the streets again brought him to his destination. A cheap, run down apartment complex rested before his eyes. Not even bothering with the locks, Christian broke a hole in the windows and climbed through into the lobby, which reeked of cabbage. Paint was peeling off the walls.

Stepping over to the elevator and pressed a button. He pressed for door 3, and the doors closed, carrying him up. For a few seconds he rode up and then the door opened, revealing a hallway. There were holes in the wall, and it had a stronger stench.

He stepped along until he reached his desired apartment. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for a response.

(OOC: If you will open up, Danneland. Otherwise, I might be forced to break down your door and raid the apartment. :p)

OOC:
Danneland,

Well, so far I've come up with ideas for two characters: an archangel name Luthien, and a powerful demon named Neras. I could play either, depending on how many characters of each you need. I will send you a TM, I guess.

Sierra was a well-known face in the area. Her short dark-blonde hair was spiked out somewhat in a "pixie" type of look, and did well to hide the pointed tips of her ears. Her black leather trenchcoat flared out with the slight breeze as she stalked the streets.
"Sierra!" came the call from a near alley.
Smiling, she turned and walked to Darien. The hood-rat was wary to leave the alleyway, as were his gang-members. Stepping closer, she smelled the sharp scent of fear. Narrowing her ice-gray eyes, she stepped into the alley. "What's wrong?"
"Hell, I dunno. Somethin' went down. Somethin' f----- crazy!"
"Slow down. Tell me what happened."
"Ai'ght," he began, catching his breath. "We was out like usual..ya know. Hasslin' punks and shit...Girl, I capped this punk in the head!! Cracka' barely blinked!"
"Then what?"
"We got the hell outta there."
"...where."
Darien pointed her in the right direction, and she wasted no time stalking off. Grinning darkly, she'd told them to stay put while she went to check it out. This situation had potential. Since Sierra had arrived here about a year ago, the local gangs had taken a certain affinity to her, much like a stray dog. A fairly accurate description, actually.
Ahead, she spotted the body, carelessly discarded. Crouching, she examined him, taking careful notice of his neck. A vampire... Wasting little time, she grabbed the body by the arms and dragged him further out of sight. The vampire had finished his meal...she might as well start hers.
Having consumed her fill, she started in the direction the vampire had taken. Perhaps this night would reveal something of interest afterall...

OOC:
Archaic Slang Words Im afraid that you are forced to kick in the door, since Sam aint there, he's at the local bar. And he dont live there anymore (motell room) ;) Though your vampire probably can smell him to Sam since the sheets are drained in his blood.. that and a couple of houndred demons.

Wretchengard Guess what, I TMed u BACK! ;)

Gaeltach what about a mute Priest? ;)

The Iron Citadel well I plan to have this RP all over the world. It isnt locked into a single town or a nation, Sam will be going all over the world ;)


IC:


Sam went from one page to another, the same this over and over again. Few fragments of a sentence, blood, lettersm places.. without a picture or a whole piece of text.. it was useless, well, atleast for a man without any memory at all.
Well, atleast from the last ten years, before the crash. He remembered everything.

He turned another page and he could read some text here atleast..

"They seem to gather around me, that I draw them towards me.. These beasts from the underworld.. and sometimes, even an angel. Though the angels dont help mutch.. why?.. I dont know. Why the beasts gather around me? That I dont know either, mabye I am the last rider of the apocalypse... today I've come a great bit closer to the Angelic.. I got name of who knows its wereabouts. Ar.."

The blood covered the rest of the name, another loose end.. another worthless lead. He realy did have to go from the start.. well, according to the book it was the start.

He looked at one of the pictures, this was of the St.Peter's cathedral in Rome.. Odd.. why would I be in rome? then it hit him.. he didnt quite know where he was at the moment. The motell owner had spoken in english, and so had the bartender. Sam looked up and observed the crowd. He noticed that there was a quite.. large.. man, not large in the sense that he was fat. Rather.. just large. That man seemed to observe him. Sam avoided his eyes and slowly got on his feet and walked over to the counter.

"What will it be for ya?" The bartender asked.

"Well.. I'l have another beer"

The bartender leaned to the left and looked at the table wich Sam had sat at, the pictures, the camera and the book was still there. Aslo the glass of beer wich Sam had ordered before, it wasnt empty. Infaqt, it didnt look as if Sam had taken a single sip.
He smiled and nodded. "another beer then"

As Sam recieved the beer and cleared his throat to get the bartenders attention again.

"yes?"

Sam flushed a bit, he was nervous.. even though he had no memory of the last ten years, he could understand that the question he was about to ask.. may seem a little odd.

"Well.. where am I?"

The bartender looked at him somewhat confused of the question.."at my bar? Jimmy's Bar?"

Sam shook his head.. "no.. wich country?.. and city?"

The bartender burst out into a laughter.. "oh-boy, you allmost had me there for a moment" he walked away laughing and served a beer to another customer.

A man who sat beside where Sam stood moved one chair away from him, looking at him suspicious.

Sam looked back and made an atempt to smile, failing he went back to his table with his newly bought beer.

The bartender sounded like if he was from the US.. Im was born here.. if I am here.. though.. wich city? state?

The thought were many in Sams head, and he could still feel that man on the other side of the bar observing him, it made him feel.. not to so good.

Somehow Sam felt that he had to run, and somehow.. he felt as if he always had to run.. but he couldnt remember that he ever had been on the run.. so he didnt actually know what to do.

but before anything he wrote down in his book..

"Today.. I dont know what day it is, but I woke up this morning and I was covered in my own blood.. or atleast I think it is. I went down to the bar, and there is this large guy.. he's dressed in black.. and he is looking at me, even though Im not looking at him, I can feel it.. I've got to get out of here. Watch out for him!"

Sam gathered his things together, leaving the two beers untouched and walked fast out of the bar..
Standing on the street, he had no idea what to do next.
He looked over to his left at the Motell where he had woke up. Another man dressed in black, this one walked into the motell.
Somehow, he felt as if that man was expecting him to still be at his room.
He walked to the right..
L.A.. I got to go to L.A"

Sam grabbed hold of a woman who passed him by, the woman was about to scream for help as Sam asked
"What city is this?"

The woman looked confused at him, remebered her late husband who had a bad memory he to and felt sorry for Sam.
"My dear, we are in the city of Angels, Los Angeles"

Sam nodded and thanked her.. he passed a buss stop and it just so happend that a buss stoped, he walked on and payed the driver, sat down in a seat at the back. Looking out the window he was very confused.
The only thing he could figure out to do.. was to meet with Bishop Gray.

He continued to read the book, well, those parts wich he could read and searched for any clues to where this Bishop Gray could be..

[OOC: You had to put "serious" in the title? :roll: ]

OOC: Shush, Butterfly!

IC: After a bit more impatient knocking, Christian cursed quite audibly, and started slamming his shoulder on the door. Eventually, parts of the door started to splinter, and then the door broke open into a small one room apartment, run down, with piles of crap all over the floor.

"Hey, anyone in here?"

Christian stepped in softly, two heavy black boots making a deep pulse as he stepped on the wooden floor and over piles of crap. There were numerous pictures. The beds were thick with blood.

"Oh, that stupid fucker... evading me, I know it..."

Christian turned, and was about to leave, but a man had appeared behind him. A rather ugly one, too.

"Can I help you? I'm the manager of this place."

"I'm looking for the man who inhabited this residence."

"Sam? I kicked him out earlier."

"You little piece of shit..." Christian said, stalking towards him, seemingly appearing larger than he was. He seized the manager, and pushed him up against the wall. "Where'd he go?" He hissed as he wrenched the manager's collar.

"I don't know! Jesus, man! Chill out!"

Christian raised his fist, and hit the manager across the jaw. His lip began to bleed. He repeated the actions a few times, and then dropped him to the ground, unconscious.

He started down the hall and jumped out a nearby window overlooking the street, landing with feline grace as he hit the pavement. He looked up at the grey skies, and sniffed. The town lacked Sam's scent.

Christian had attracted a lot of attention, but he didn't have time to disperse the worries of the people around him. He took to his heels, fighting his ways through thick street crowds. As he ran in one direction, a bus drove away in the opposite direction. As it faded from the horizon, the faint scent of Sam's flesh reached his nose. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was there.

He was beginning to lose his orientation. He wasn't about to slip up now. Sam would lead him to Bishop Gray. Bishop Gray had everything he needed.

He pushed further in the crowd, heading after the bus, and started taking alleys as shortcuts. He lost track of how far and how long he ran, but he eventually slowed down. The neighborhood he had returned to looked and smelled familiar. He was nearing the alleyway where he had killed previously. Something was out of place, though. Someone new had passed by, and whoever it was wasn't human.

[OOC: You had to put "serious" in the title? :roll: ]

OOC: I thought I would get banned by putting: Angelic pr0n Chronicles (Whore Hentai RP) just to get peoples attention, this was my best idea :roll: If you have anything better to suggest, feel free. But I realy dont get your point.. hrm..

I'l post an update as soon, or tomorrow. Depends if I go to sleep first or not.

As the strange man departed, Izual rose to his feet and followed. He didn't need to see the man to know where he was, such is the advantage of being a creature such as he is.

Izual could sense the man's slight panic as he quickly moved away from the bar and onto a bus. Izual marked the bus in his memory. Turning in the opposite direction of the bus, Izual moved into a large alley, filled with garbage and rotting material.

Observing that no one watched him, Izual ascended into the clouds, his large angelic wings slipping out of the gaps within his trenchcoat. Izual began to trace the movements of the strange man, his mind tracking the disturbed aura.

Deep in the bowels of Los Angelas at midnight, in a dark alleyway, there was a burst of flame and the stench of brimstone. The fabric of reality itself seemed to let out a short scream as a greater demon tore through the dimensional barrier between Earth and Hell. The act could be considered similar to dimensional rape, with the demon's presence violating everything near it. With a final surge of energy and a primal scream, the demon Neras once again entered our world. But the demon lacked a human shell to disguise itself, and finding a suitable host was its first priority. The demon sailed through the air freely, completely invisible save for a slight distortion of the air where it flew. The demon glanced down as it passed over an intersection, noticing a handsome young businessman in a brand new black Jaguar convertible. Neras magnified his sight and peered in closer. The man was wearing an expensive suit, had short dark hair (nearly black), a neatly trimmed goatee, and dark eyes. The demon prodded into the man's mind slightly. He was a successful business man, very wealthy, and went away on enough conferences that a short absence away from home would not be noticed. He was healthy, tall and strong, had a nice place, and a hot girlfriend to boot. His name was Nick Winston, not that it mattered. Neras smiled inwardly. Bingo.

Nick didn't see it coming. One minute he was driving home in his new Jag, the next he felt a presence of immense evil slam into his body. He gasped and his eyes went wide. It felt a lot like he imagined a heart attack would feel like; a great pressure on his chest, almost like it was caving in. Nick managed to pull his car over to the side of the road so that he wouldn't get in an accident. It was surreal for Nick, who had what many would consider the perfect life. Why is this happening to me? What's going on? Those were the last thoughts Nick managed before his life force was crushed by the much stronger will of Neras. The body of Nick Winston slumped down on the steering wheel. When it lifted its head again, it was Neras that was in control. The demon looked at his new face in the rear view mirror.

"Damn I'm fine," he said with a grin, stroking his goatee.

The demon hit the gas and the Jag sped away. Time to go see if Nick's house and his girlfriend are as fun to play with as the car, the demon thought with a chuckle. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy his stay on earth. A lot.

OOC: Hmm, how about not an Angel or a Demon but perhaps an unknown quanity. (I need to fill my quota of fanasty Rp.) edit: miss read something so made a correction.

The figure strode through the rain and the puddles in the street with a military march. The rain seemed to drip off the gray coat, and mud covered the black boots. The wide brimmed, black hat was pulled down in front as though to keep people from looking too closely at the face.

Damn, what the hell kind of assignment is this? One moment I'm on duty in New York, the next moment I'm being sent out here to investigate...of course all I'm told is that there is a 'disturbance'. Ah, don't you love it when...

The stops before a large house next to a massive brick church. The house seems plesant enough but the woman hides in the shadow of a nearby tree. She waits for her only lead to appear...

[quote="Danneland"]Gaeltach what about a mute Priest? ;)
[quote]

OOC: ...what?

In the midnight sky above the Pacific ocean, just a mile or so off the coast of Los Angelas, the archangel Luthien arrived on Earth.

http://diabloii.calcon.net/images/npc/tyrael1.jpg

He floated in the air motionlessly and surveyed the city before him. There was a lost soul within that he was asked to find. Luthien felt a disturbing and all too familiar presence within the city.

"Ahh, so the fallen one's servants are here already," the angel said to himself. "I mustn't waste too much time then."

Swiftly and silently he flew across the sky, then swooped low as he reached the ground. As he landed, his features changed until he appeared to be an aging man with blue eyes and a white beard, wearing a trench coat and a hat. He looked around to see if he had been seen, but did not notice anyone. Not wasting any time, Luthien began walking into the city. He took comfort in the fact that he was not the only servant of Heaven involved in the affair, but also had to accept that the enemy likely had more than one agent in the city as well. Luthien sighed. Although he would have liked to ignore it, he had a bad feeling about the whole situation...

Sierra had been hiding in the shadows when the vampire made his somewhat dramatic exit from the hotel building. Deciding to investigate further, she crossed the street and entered the building herself. Once inside, she was immediately overcome with a sense of duty, but could not understand why. Following the lingering scent of blood, she lept up three flights of stairs and entered a hallway. The hotel manager lay bleeding and unconscious against the wall. Smirking, she stepped over him and followed the scent to a door that had been broken in. Compelled by some unknown sense of urgency, she entered the room. The place was in shambles, and hardly fit to live. Drawn by the scent of blood, she crouched beside the bed. Cautiously, she ran her fingers across the dried blood, noting a curious tingling at the touch.

So this is Sam...

Standing, she walked around the room. Finding no other clues, she left the room and bounded down the stairs.

All this and he was only a few blocks away. I'm losing my edge...

In the street once more, she began running on all fours, morphing into the form of a large german shepherd as she ran. She needed to find the vampire. He'd been to the apartment, so it stood to reason that he was after Sam as well, though probably for more malevolent reasons. He would be able to track him with greater ease than she.

[OOC: She's not a shape-shifter, fyi, so please don't start.]

Christian slowed down and stopped, breathing heavily. His head was spinning, and he sat down to recuperate.

He closed his eyes, thinking quietly, but when he opened them, the world was none but the same. It had changed from the traditional ghetto to a rundown industrial district, but in the middle stood a tree, surrounded by three girls playing jump-rope. (OOC: He was a psychiatric patient in life for schizophrenia and hallucinations, but most of them were more on the lines of premonitions with vague hints as to the future.)

Christian stood up, fear burning in the back of his head. He stepped forward, and the girls stopped playing. One of them turned around, and the look of her disgusted Christian. She had no face. No eyes, mouth, nose, ears, just a pure mass of skin covered her head. But somehow, through that thick veil, eyes seemed to watch him malevolently. The others turned around.

"Hello, Christian. Come, climb the tree. We have a gift for you in the branches," one of the girls said, laughing. They disappeared.

In reality, Christian would have been climbing the fire escape, but to him, it was a tree. A knotted oak tree with a huge gap in the center of it. The tree itself had no leaves, and was very old. As he climbed, a strong wind began to blow and shake his balance, until he was forced off. Several branches snapped under his falling body weight. When he got up from the grass he landed on, he looked at them. The branches weren't releasing sap; they were bleeding, extroardinarily. He looked at the tree in disgust.

"What are you?" He said as he ran his hand over the rough bark in awe.

As he came to the other side, back to the vast open knot in the wood, a voice called out to him, whispering his name softly. He turned, to look at the tree. Inside the knot, numerous faces had appeared, intermixing and changing with each other, all the picturesque images of his victims. They were calling to him.

"Help us, Christian," they said softly. "Go to the beach, find us, save us."

Like a servant, Christian obeyed, and wandered to a nearby beach. Black, oily watered coasted up on the shoreline. In reality, it was a vast mess of plastic bags. Christian's instincts told him to dig, and he pushed aside the sand. His hands felt something cold, and he dug faster, until he had uncovered a body. He dug deeper, and as he dug, more of them. He was uncovering a mass grave.

Christian reeled back in disgust, and as he hit the floor, the world snapped to reality. Christian was in tears, on the pavement, shaking with fear.

"Whoever is out there, please... make them stop... make them leave me alone.""

They won't go, Christian, the back of his mind whispered softly. For as long as he could remember, his mind would always communicate with him, telling him what he would need to know. But his mind had taken on a different personality than he had, lately, and was convinced it wasn't his own ally anymore. They'll only leave when you disappear.

"You lie... you lie... there has to be another way."

I suppose you could find Sam, but that isn't of importance. Listen, I must warn you: the dog's of war grow near and are weary of the chase. One of them is coming, and will encounter you in this alley. I don't know it's intentions, but I think it none more than malevolent. Be wary, should you meet them.

"What do you mean?"

You know perfectly well. Keep on the lookout. They will come as a German shepherd. I know not what news they bring.

Christian stood up, his face streaked with tears, and his eyes bloodshot, pupils dialated. He was visibly shaken, and he started to walk in the alley again, pelted by the rain that seemed only to fall on his shoulders.

The shepherd loped through the streets and alleys, seeking the chill scent of the vampire. A few blocks from where she'd begun this little escapade, she slid to a stop on the wet pavement having caught a new scent. Ears pricked, she sampled the breeze. Fear. Strong fear. The wind and rain did nothing to lessen the intensity of it. Curious, and with her predatory drive engaged, she followed the scent. Closer, she sensed a chill similar to the one she sought. Surely this was too lucky to be true..
Keeping to the shadows, she padded through the alley. A lone man walked ahead. She hung back in an effort to remain out of sight. Perhaps she'd found her tracking device.

A battered shutter creaked open in the attic of a local Catholic chruch in the LA area, and a strange figure stepped inside. He had lived in the attic for little more than a few days, but each night when he returned from his nightly hunt, it felt more and more like home... The figure set a handfull of items down on the small cardtable near a pile of worn-out rugs and blankets he used as a bed.

The figure was a biped, with a long and dexterous tail. He seemed reptillian by his facial features and the charcoal-colored scales that covered his body. Next to the unknown items lay a handgun, a 9mm Berretta with pacmar handgrips and lithium night-sights... an unusual possession among his kind, who feared technology as the tools of destructive humans, 'softskins' as his people called them.

The strange attic-dweller was of the Dark Argonian people, skilled hunters of men and beasts, a proud warrior people with a rich cultural heritage. This one was an outcast of those people, a fallen hero of a bygone era. His clawed hands held a small silver crucifix that was attached to a chain around his neck. He knelt before a larger one, an extra for the church below, and muttered a prayer in his gravelly voice, asking for forgiveness from the killing he had committed barely an hour ago... he rose, and was forgiven. The items near his handgun where the fangs of a vampire, a lapdog of satan, his prey for the past three centuries.

The tools had changed over the years, he switched from a longbow to a sniper's rifle, a dagger to a handgun, dynamite to hand grenades, but his closest companions, Kant'Rash and Nek'Tel, remained in his arsenal. The 'Thunder' and 'Wind' where matched katanas forged from the core of a meteorite, blackened with heat of re-entry. The blades held their edge indefinitely, and where nearly un-breakable. Whiptail had forged these blades with his own hands, trapping within them the souls of twin demons from his first hunt, giving the blades a firey sting, but little else...

Below him, a bishop went about the evening mass, a man several seemed to be looking for, although neither he nor his unknown houseguest knew it...

-Damn Forum-

-Damn Thing-

Christian froze, his heightened senses screaming at him to turn around. What he was expecting was a shepherd, and his eyes confirmed it. Christian choked on his own saliva, but then steeled his nerves. He was already dead, he had little to be afraid of.

"He said you'd come, and now you're here. What do you want from me?"

Sierra froze as the lone man turned around and addressed her. She cocked her head to the side, determined to pass for an ordinary stray. Her eyes might prove problematic - no dog she'd ever seen had grey eyes - but that was easily prevented through distance.
Whining softly, she stepped half into the light wagging her tail in uncertainty as if begging for scraps or attention.

The strange guest in the house of the lord fiddled with the vampires' fangs for a bit, absently spinning them around on the rough surface of the cardtable. A weather-worn bible lay next to his makeshift bed, atop a copy of Dracula. A worn CD player sat atop the bible, containing a series of Bob and Ziggy Marley's greatest hits, the lone hunter was oddly fond of Regge music.

The being placed the headphones on its oddly-shaped head, in front of the fin-ears that jutted out of the sides, each bearing a golden ring or two. The odd creature dozed off with I Shot the Sheriff echoing softly in his mind...

Sam looked out the window of the buss, he didnt quite know whwere he was heading. The sky above grew darker and it looked as if it would rain in a couple of hours.
He turned his head and looked out the back window.. nothing but the regular traffic, nothing unusual.
Though, he was certain that the man from the bar was still following him.

Sam got on his feet, taking his few objects with him.. and stepped of the buss at the next stop.

The surrounding were.. old, had he missed the centre of LA?.. he couldnt remember that he ever passed any tall buildings..
It seemed as if he was back were he had started his little buss tour. Though, on the other hand.. the people wasnt the same..more old. the buildings were just old.. in a more European brick style.

Faith seemed to play with him as he looked at one of the photographs, even though he didnt have a memory.. he knew that this wasnt just a co-insidence. The photograph was of an old wodden house between two brick houses.
The house was white and had a little garden infront of it.

Sam turned the picture and read the text on the back.. "Home"

"I was borne here?" he said tohimselfe, he looked around.. brick houses.. brick houses.. more brick houses.
Again he felt uncertain what to do..

"My name is Sam.. remember to always pay the man.."

He started to walk to the south, somehow.. he felt like if that was a good direction to walk.
Sam still felt like if he was watched, followed.. and now.. not only by one.. but two..three.. or more... or it was just paranoia.
He shook his head, he began to doubt himselfe, he began to doubt the pictures, the book, the man in the bar.. everything.
Sam had walked a few blocks before he fell down on his knees crying.

"..why...why is this happening to me?.." he said quietly.

As he wiped of his tears Sam noticed that he was standing on his knees infront of the very house that was on the picture.
This white wodden house in the middle of two brick houses.
On the left there was a huge church to, though Sam didnt take mutch notice of it.
The house didnt look exactly the same as on the picture, it must have been years since the picture was taken.
The house in reality was.. crappy, old.. and it didnt seem as if anyone lived in it.
Sam got up on his feet and took one step towards the house.
Just as he was about to open the gate wich lead into the garden, an old man knocked Sam on the shoulder.

"Now you dont want to go in there son'.. the house is haunted.. been like that since the family died in some form of an accident.. no one wants to buy the house, and the state is to afraid to tare it down.. wouldnt go in there if I were you"

The old man smiled and turned around, starting to walk away from Sam.

Sam looked at him, and then on the old house infront of him, and then on the old man again.. though.. this time the old man.. wasnt there, where he should have been was only a few brown leaves dancing in the wind.

As he turned back his head towards the house, the gate opend up.. a chill went down his back.. something wasnt right.. or it was, he couldnt decide what it was.. right or wrong.. whatever it was, Sam walked up to the house, he had allmost expected it.. but wasnt prepared for it. But the front door opened up and he walked inside.

A wind shut the door behind him with a slam.

Sam stood in a old hallway.. it seemed as if it hadnt changed since..ever. Like he was the first one to take a step inside since the last person who lived there walked out from the house.

There was a thick layer of dust on the floor, and below that there was.. well.. he suspected it was a red carpet.
Strange thing was, that he could see footsteps in the dust.. though.. he was not certain.. Sam felt as if this house played him tricks, even though he had just been there for less than five minutes.

On his left was what seemed to be a livving room, and on the right a kitchen. Straight ahead the hallway continued, with to doors on the left and the right. A spiral stair went up on the other side of the hallway. On the wall of the hallway hand a number of pictures, family pictures..

Sam walked slowly towards the pictures..

The evening mass ended, and the bishop locked up the church... up in the attic, Whiptail lay still, his mind filled with the dark deeds of his past, the numerous murders, killings, assassinations, and other fell actions before his conversion...

Bishop Gray thanked the last of his patrons and locked up the church for the night. Bracing himself against the nightly wind, he shuffled next door and let himself into the rectory. Usually he would not have led mass outside of his cathedral, but Father O'Reilly was in need of a favor. Never one to abandon his friends, he had accepted. In return, the good Father had provided an extra room for him tonight.

Clicking on the lights, he let himself into a small office. Gingerly, he removed his stole and robes, hanging them reverently from a coat hanger. On an empty table, he placed his miter and skull cap. Taking a seat at the oak desk, he loosen his clerical collar slightly and opened a heavy book for study. Upstairs, he heard O'Reilly coughing. The priest had been sick for some time, and recently his condition had worsened. They had been good friends and collegues for some time now. His presence would hopefully bring spiritual healing, as well as physical though the medicine he brought. Returning to the scripture, the Bishop pulled out a legal pad for notes. This would keep him occupied until sleep claimed him.

OOC: Just as I had hoped, someone finally catches my hint.

IC:
Whiptail's dreams ceased, providing no more material for a useless BUMP...

Danneland, I sent you a TG a while back, haven't gotten a response from you. Am I allowed to join??

OOC: Just as I had hoped, someone finally catches my hint.

IC:
Whiptail's dreams ceased, providing no more material for a useless BUMP...

OOC: lol...I had to wait for Danneland's ok.

Izual landed upon the footpath outside the old house, just as Sam entered. The house struck him as strange immediately. His angelic senses were detecting something, not quite sure though.

Izual slipped his physically manifested ethereal wings back under his trenchoat and quietly moved through the front door and into the hallway. His steps made no sound nor left any mark as he passed over the old boards. Sam was here somewhere.....

Danneland, I sent you a TG a while back, haven't gotten a response from you. Am I allowed to join??

Um, resend the TG.. I must have deleted it by misstake :S
That or just join in.

IC:

Sam wachted one picture of another, he remembered them all.. strange enough.. His father, his mother.. they were all there. In different places, his graduation.. their wedding.. in the back yard.
He felt now how he missed his parrents, how he wanted them back so bad.. both anger and sorrow struck his mind, sorrow that he would never get to hug or see his mother again, anger and hatred against those who had killed them..

Sam took a picture from the wall.. it was of his mother and father infront of this very house.
He knew now that he had no reason to doubt himselfe, he had to struggle on. Day by day untill the murdurers were revealed.
Though, he knew that tomorrow.. he wouldnt remember a thing and he had to read it all over again.

Then he felt it, as he stood looking at the pictures.. he heard nothing, but he was sure that something was here..
one of the ghosts pherhaps (sp?)
Sam slowly turned around and looked at the man standing infront of him, the very same man from the bar.
In his mind, he tried to find a rational explenation why he would be here.. why he would have followed him.
But his legs said another thing and he started to run, he ran down the hallway and burst through a door to the right, it was a bedroom and on the far side there was a window..
Is it big enough? he thought as he jumped out of it, crashing onto the ground and running out on the front yard, through the gate and heading towards the church.. he didnt know why, but he felt as if the church was a good place to hide.

He ran as fast as he could, holding on to the few precious items he could claim as his own, the church came nearer.. on the other hand, he knew that the strange man wouldnt just sit tight and not follow..

Izual merely spund around and exited through the front door. He could easily sense the man's distress and his intent to run for cover, toward the church. Izual smiled at the irony. An angel was chasing a main into a church.

Walking calmly toward the holy building, Izual could see the frantic man sprinting away from him, into the churchyard.

The gray clad figure walked across the road and up to the door. She tried the lock quietly. It was locked, the deadbolt was the surface mounted on the inside, easy to install, easy to open by breaking the glass in the door, a b*** to pick. Just my luck, well let's see if my skills work After standing on the porch for a few seconds she opened the door and walked in. The rectory was quite except for someone rustling a page. She walked passed the stairs and to a large door just beyound. It was slightly open so she knocked and entered..."Bishop Grey I presume..."
The voice was deep but feminine. He could just make out the bottom of the face with a small thin mouth.

The figure within the black trenchcoat, watched from across the street as one man crashed through the window from the house, tumbled and rolled to his feet, and sprinted for the church. Just as quickly another figure bolted out the front door, giving chase to the panicked man.

Hmmm...very interesting...

Maximus crossed the street and walked around the opposite end of the church, to cut off any escape route for the man. He was hungry, and this man looked to appeal to his desire to have a good chase. Listening carefully, he heard the man burst into the church, crying for asylum. Maximus smiled, as he opened the side door, and slipped quietly into the shadows, ascending to the ceiling, waiting...watching. The myths of church's effects, or the items of the church's having their effects on vampires was false, and held no grounds in dealing with Maximus. Ever since long before Maximus's 696 years, mankind had twisted the reality of the facts over the past several centuries. However some things remained to be dangerous: sunlight, silver, beheading with a silver object. And on the other hand, humans still had to worry about the existence of the bloodsuckers.

Maximus watched as the man frantically tried to hide within the pews of the church, and soon noticed the entrance of the hunter. He did not move, but remained hidden in the deep shadows of the church.

His name was Ryuko on Earth, but elsewhere he was known as The Returner.
Every night he went out to investigate the occult and battle evil, and every time he died he would wake up at six am the next day in bed.

Tonight he was going to bag a vampire. He stood atop a skyscraper, his long coat flapping in the wind. He was carrying his usual load of weaponary:a crossbow and a katana. When you were immortal you had plenty of time to practice with weapons.
He jumped from the edge of the rooftop. . .

"Bishop Grey I presume..."

Slightly startled, he paused in his reading and looked up. Setting his pen down, he motioned for the shadowded figure to enter.
"Yes...may I help you?"
He glanced up to a wall clock above the door. It was late, but as a man of the Church he was accustomed to off-hours requests. He was, however, a bit confused how this person had managed to gain entry. Shrugging it off, he wondered if he'd remembered to lock the door. Perhaps not. Or perhaps this was a committee member who had been given a key for night meetings. Clearing his mind, he focused on the visitor, ready as ever to provide help or guidance.

"Yes...may I help you?"


Score one for calling the Archdiocese as a distraut widow.

The figure stepped forward into the room and closed the door behind it. It felt the thumb lock on the old lock and the sound of the click filled the silence. "Bishop Grey, I will come strait to the point. Your name has come up in reference to a shadowy matter." The figure strides over to the nearby windows and shuts the curtains. "Specifically, a matter involving those best described as...demonic in your nomenclature."
The figure takes sits in a chair, and leans back.
"I represent a parrallel orginization that is concerned with some of the rumors and signs that we have been seeing. The recent disappearance of one of our lay employees had greatly increased this concern."
The figure removes the hat, revealing a young, attractive female with green eyes and blonde hair. She is not wearing any make-up but has either a light brown complextion or a very nice tan. "I'm here to investigate the matter, report and take action as needed. The odd thing is that you don't fit the type the Vatican sends into these matters. Now, as the old movies say, Spill the beans padre" She smiles at her poor joke.

The Bishop blinked and stared at the woman a moment in genuine surprize.
"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you are referring to. The closest dealings I've had with anything demonic or unholy in nature would be exorcisms and blessings. Perhaps you could clarify...?"

The woman twisted her lips for a moment. He is either very good or something is very screwy here.

"Bishop Gray, I'm not sure what is going on either. However two things are clear, the disappearance of one of our lay employee's and a last minute reference to you. Now, can you tell me why a specialist in lost and banned christian texts has a reference to you? Or why it was made in the The Manx Encyclopedia of Demons has the Inquistion begun again? Should I be making a statement to your superiors about re-starting that practice?" The last statement is made with some anger. She tosses a book on the table, it is fairly old with an illegiable cover and deep stains of red. The contents are in latin script and include such entries as...

Demons find that by filling their victims with their juice they do not find arrousal but... (The illustrations can not be described since that would be somewhat pornagraphic.)

"Is that a threat?" he asked calmly, raising one eyebrow.

A green ribbon protruding from the spine of his current study was lifted and gingerly laid across the open pages. He closed the tome reverently, and moved to examine this new book she'd thrown across the desk. Paging through the book, he found it a vaguely familiar sight.

"It is no secret that my works have become somewhat...controversial as of late." He paused, and glanced up from the book to study the woman intently. "What is it that you want from me, Ms?"

It's now a stray, Christian! It's the one I've told you about. Call out to it, it's named Sierra.

"You there, Sierra," he called. "I know what you are. Reveal yourself." He started to stalk towards the dog, expecting it to change. His arm was visibly twitching from an impending anxiety attack.

She froze in place, unexpectedly hearing her name. Something was very off here...yet it didn't feel wrong, and it didn't feel dangerous. Despite a firm voice, she smelled nothing by fear and uncertainty. He might have wished to see her more "human" side, but this was not a safe place for it. Not in a strange alley, with an unknown vampire, who seemed ready to break down. She glanced up as the looming buildings seemed to close in, and backed slowly from the vampire's advances.

Make her show herself.

Christian froze, blood running cold. He realized he was being controlled, a puppet of the voice in his head. He fell down to his knees, tears streaking down his face. He let out a loud scream of a tortured victim with his last breaths, just a reminiscence of what had happened to him in life.

"Damn it, no! I won't force Sierra to!"

He grabbed his head between his hands, and curled on the ground. He was trembling.

Do it! She can help you! She can rid you of the dreams, the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells that you've been tortured by!

She is the answer, the cure! Make her help you. You will succeed! The only alternative is to descend into the darkness and listen to the wicked illusions that plague you!

Christian was practically soaked, alone, and crying in the cold rain. He was panicking. He couldn't flee his own head. He looked at the dog, and he knew the voice was right. With a sigh, he stood up, shaking and practically zombie like.

"Please, help me. You must know something, anything... just... take them all away..."

Profoundly struck by the suffering of this man, she padded forward tentatively. His outburst almost frightened her. No creature she'd met had been so mentally tortured. Taken by a sudden and overwhelming urge to shepherd this Lost One, she gently touched her nose to the palm of his hand, as if to reassure him that he was ok.
The back of her mind rebelled at this action. She was supposed to be following him, using him as an instrument to track Sam. It had beed years since last she played this role, and her very essence rebelled at the prospect every time. Yet this felt like a natural action. Somehow the two were connected, and time would only tell how.

The mighty demon Neras smiled wickedly as he rummaged through Nick Winston's house. He helped himself to an expensive-looking black blazer that he found in a closet and a pair of designer shades.

"All right," he said with a wicked grin as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Nick's girlfriend had been as gorgeous as he had pictured her from what he had gathered from Nick's thoughts, and she wasn't a bad lay either. Too bad the act of getting it on with a greater demon was too much for most women to handle. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman's naked corpse on the bed, her mouth frozen open in an expression of horror. Wisps of smoke rose up from her charred innards and curled out of her mouth.

"Honey, was it good for you?" the demon mocked, then cackled with glee.

Neras grabbed a bag full of clothes and walked out the door and to the Jag he had taken for his own. With luck he wouldn't need to come back to the house, as sooner or later people were going to come looking for Nick or his girlfriend and her corpse. There would be police everywhere then, and he would rather not be there when it happened. The black Jaguar's wheels screeched as the demon drove off into the night. It was time to get down to business...

Christian stroked the dog's head, feeling that he had known this dog before, and that whoever was in his head wanted to use him against the animal.

"Sierra," he said, softly, repeating the name. "A wonderful name... why don't you show yourself?"

She is a coward, nothing more. The dog will use you, play on your weakness, use you as a device to find what she seeks! Sam's goodwill might be at stake from this! You don't know the animal's intentions!

Christian recoiled from the animal.

"You know nothing! You speak highly and mightily, but you know nothing! You've been with me from the beginning and have guided me so far, but what good came out of it? I'm only more alone and hurt than I was to begin with! I don't care what the animal wants! I'd rather help it than feed your will and let you control me!"

Then the dreams are winning!

Christian's mind snapped back to the scene of the tree, and the little faceless girls playing around it.

"They aren't winning! They won't, no, they can't win! They're figments, nothing more! But you're something else! You're something else, much more wicked! Leave me be! I have no need for you!"

You'll want me back one day. Those figments won't help you. You know how I came to be: you fed me from your thoughts, from you obeying me, and now I am an integrated part of you. I am your master; I am your mind! Those figments are trying to break you, Christian! Fight them! Fight them!

"Leave me be," he said, between a drawn out gasp. "Just disappear."

I will, temporarily, out of mercy. But I will be back... you can't destroy me without destroying yourself.

Christian panted, looking at the dog, his breath fogging in the cold air.

"He's right, isn't he... you want to find Sam... I can help you... I can help you find him."

The german shepherd gazed up at him with those unnatural grey eyes. Carefully, she took his wrist in her mouth and gently pulled him down the alleyway. They needed to move. She had a very bad feeling that they were in danger if they stayed here any longer. Finding Sam was vital. For both of them. Though vocal communication would have to wait until she felt they were out of immediate danger.

Christian jumped up on his feet, still shaken, and started to run. As he was running, the world seemed to change again. Another vision was greeting him.

The alleyway turned into a church courtyard. There were numerous robed men wandering about, but one seemed to stand out in particular, an old man, reading a thick tome. A younger one, standing out from everyone else was communicating with him. As he kept moving through the courtyard, he realized that it led to a graveyard. In the graveyard, a gate had been left unlocked. On the gate sign, two finely crafted letters were imbedded.

As he kept running, the world shifted again, and he realized he was back in the alleyways.

"Follow me, I think I know where he is," he said softly to the German shepherd he was barely keeping pace with. "The LA First Presbyterian. Come on, before he returns."

-

Christian turned and arrived on the streets, the shepherd tailing him. The area was thick with people. Several blocks down the street, a cross could be seen rising out of the air, like a grim monolith testifying his belief. He pushed his way through the crowds, not caring about the dog anymore, until he was on the corner, just parallel to the structure. He didn't bother for the cross walk to change, and ran out into the street, traffic stopping to the loud screech of tires and honking horns. Back in the streets, a car crash was heard, but he didn't care. He kept running.

Another minute, and he was in front of the main gate.

Graveyard, he thought. He started to run around the block surrounding the structure, looking for an open gate into the graveyard.

OOC: Just an FYI, if you're talking about Bishop Gray, he's in a Catholic church.

Sierra ran with her tounge hanging out, though she easily kept pace with the vampire. She kept a wary eye on the surrounding people, not wanting to bring attention to themselves. That, proved to be unsuccessful, as he dashed across a busy street. Somehow, she managed to navigate the mess of vehicles to resume her chase. Nearing the graveyard, she lept back up to the curb and kept nearby. Sensing his intent, she nosed around the fence, pushing away pieces of a stone column that had collapsed at one of the back corners.

OOC: Yeah, I noticed that. I never said his illusions were crystal clear, did I?

IC:

"This must be it," he said to the dog who was on the other side of the fence. Christian didn't even bother with the gate. He climbed over, and dropped down softly on the other side of it, next to the animal.

"I know you're human. There's a crypt over there, where we can converse in private. If you're seen turning back, there might be hell to pay."

Christian walked across the wet grass and muddy dirt, towards a tall crypt. He started to fumble with the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"I know, I saw a mausoleum. We can try that, and if not, we can break the windows and head in there."

He ran across the wet ground, maybe for a few minutes, and rounded a corner. There was a large building, reading "Los Angeles First Presbyterian Mausoleum." He ran up, and checked the door. It was locked.

Running back onto the dirt, he grabbed a rock embedded in the soil, and fumbled it out. He threw the thing through the window breaking it, and jumped up on the hedges. He clambered in the window. The small room was lined with a few torches, giving it a rather medieval effect. He didn't bother, though, and unlocked the door to the outside, just enough for the dog to creep in. He whistled softly, and the shepherd padded over and inside, damp and stinking of wet fur.

"So, we're inside, and we're at the church. So, who are you, Sierra? My name's Christian."

OOC: Lol, that'll work.

"You're certainly persistent, if nothing else."

She had taken advantage of the darkness to return to a human-like form, the pointed tips of her ears and demi-fangs the only things to betray the similarity. Crossing through half-shadow and torch light, she approached the broken window to glance out.

"As you apparantly know, my name is Sierra. Now the question is why?"

"He told me," Christian said, softly. Sierra looked at him, puzzled.

"You don't understand, do you... I don't know who or what he is, but he talks to me. He speaks to me in my head, and informs me of things that I should likely know.

"Frankly, I don't know whether he's protecting me or killing me. He's talked to me as long as I can remember, as far back as I go, he was with me, and I've always wanted to be rid of him. He originally compelled me to kill. When I became... well, what I am, which I'm sure you know, he compelled me to kill. I think he's also the one responsible for the dreams...

"The dreams, I had best explain to, eh? You're lost. Ever since I was young, I had dreams, and in these dreams, the people... I don't know what to consider them. They're like people, but they're not. Not physically manifest, but not a figment. Spirits might be the word to describe them.

"Whenever I slept, they would come to me, and called to me. They would attack me in my dreams, but one night, a man appeared, and he defended me from them in my sleep. I didn't know who he was, but it was like he was protecting me. He told me his name was Sam, one night, and that he could rid me of my plague forever. The only thing was that I would have to help him.

"Well, Sam kept coming to me in my sleep, protecting me from their rending teeth and claws, and they would take him instead of me, until one night, Sam didn't come. Instead of letting them come to me, I went to them, and I... I rended them limb from limb with my bare hands as they laughed at me, telling me they destroyed Sam from my dreams.

"The next night, they started to respect me, and they stopped feeding off of me. They somehow respected me, and started to try to explain their purpose, but I ignored them, and they disappeared from my sleep, but I think one of them stayed, plaguing me, and he... he's the voice I hear.

"He doesn't show himself anymore, but instead he fills my head with spirits and fear trying to compel me to do what he wants. He's mad that I'm disobeying him, but I know I have to fight him... and that's why I need to find Sam. He protected me once, and while I'm dead, I think he can do it again."

Christian looked sorrowfully at Sierra.

"In life, they deemed me insane, and with a good penchant for guessing the future, but the more time I spent alone in those institution walls, the more I knew that I would be saved and that I would be able to predict things, know things others would not, and this was an advantage. The only problem is that he would appear at the most inopportune moments, and attack me. I've come this far, and now I have to find Sam. He can surely help."

The moment Izual entered the church, he sensed the supernatural being. Choosing not to release the knowledge of his awareness, The angel continued down the isle, searching for the retreating man. It was time to speak.

"Sir, I mean you know harm. I merely wish to speak with you."

The strong male voice echoed off the church walls.

She remained silent, unsure of how exactly to respond to this. Now she knew the connection, but her involvement was still murky.

"You need to find Sam. I am compelled to find him. Yet I am unable to track him. I need you to help me, and in return, I will help you."

She glance sideways at him, her gray eyes glinting in the light. She waited in silence to see if he would accept the deal.

"Consider it agreed upon. As we were running, I had another one of those dreams... I think he's at this church, but I'm not sure. I'll go check the main lobby for a Bishop Gray," he said. "I remember that he was looking for him... I don't know when I knew, but I just do, so don't ask, eh? I'll be back, 5 minutes."

Christian opened the door and stepped out into the cold rain, and steped over a crumbling gravestone to the church's large doors. He approached and knocked. Inside, a deep echo would be heard. A few minutes later, the door opened.

"Do you know if there's a Bishop Gray or Sam... uhh.. in this church?"

"Try the Catholic one down the street," the priest said, confused. "How did you get in?"

"I hoped the fence," he said, turning back.

"Why do you need them? I know Bishop Gray."

"A long story, and I don't have time to explain. I don't know how long I have," he said, as he started to run. The old man shrugged off the incidence and closed the door. Gradually, the mausoleum grew larger until he was at the front door. Christian entered the structure, and motioned for Sierra to follow.

She had shifted back to a canine form while he had gone to investigate. Responding to the gesture, she lept into action.

Whiptail was awoken by the sounds of voices below him... unusual, because evening mass was over, and the sun had not yet risen. Rising slowly, he snatched his sidearm from the cardtable, and exited the attic through the small door opposite his bed, behind the large crucifix. Whiptail padded silently through the halls, making his way into the main worship area. He stuck to the shadows, invisible to unaided eyes.

Whiptail watched and observed as he always had, his weapon lowered. The bishop conversed with a young female of his kind, seemingly from some other land, far from the one he was currently in. Her uniform seemed familiar...

OOC: Whiptail ah we are in the rectory office. (I've got the door locked and covered the windows.... :? (suggestion: keyhole!)

IC: She looks up for a moment and sighs. "Bishop Grey, what exactly have you been up to that is so contraversial in this day and age? Now I may be wrong and you have nothing at all involved in demonics, hell it could be your performing gay marriages or pimping out a group of nuns. However, if any of that intrested someone who's life work was these texts then I'm a bit miffed. And if this does not involve demons then I'm seriously the wrong person for this assignment."

He took a moment to collect his thoughts and weigh his options. Folding his hands on the desktop, he regarded her with a pensive look.

"Ms., I believe that demons are real. In a more tangible sense than even this would dare convey," he began, laying one hand atop a thick leather-bound Bible. "And through some act of darkness, they walk among us, preying upon the weak and the righteous alike. As children of God, it is our duty to rid this world of their growing plague."

His voice, which had gained an edge of fire and passion, now faded back to a calm and controlled tone. He picked up a rosary that lay draped across the Bible, and fingered it reverently.

"I preach and I empower. And had I the strength of my youth I would act. But in the frailty that comes with age, I must take a back seat to my God-sent vision and aid those who would carry on in my stead. Does that answer your question?"

He glanced up and met her eyes with a hard and unwavering gaze.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts and weigh his options. Folding his hands on the desktop, he regarded her with a pensive look.

"Ms., I believe that demons are real. In a more tangible sense than even this would dare convey," he began, laying one hand atop a thick leather-bound Bible. "And through some act of darkness, they walk among us, preying upon the weak and the righteous alike. As children of God, it is our duty to rid this world of their growing plague."

His voice, which had gained an edge of fire and passion, now faded back to a calm and controlled tone. He picked up a rosary that lay draped across the Bible, and fingered it reverently.

"I preach and I empower. And had I the strength of my youth I would act. But in the frailty that comes with age, I must take a back seat to my God-sent vision and aid those who would carry on in my stead. Does that answer your question?"

He glanced up and met her eyes with a hard and unwavering gaze.

A hint of a smile forms at the corner of her mouth. "Well that explains a good deal doesn't it. Of course some in your orginization would agree with you and some not...." She looks towards the door for a moment and squints.
"Preaching and empowering may sound like a back seat assignment but it is also is a postion of leadership."

She returns to looking bace at his gaze, "If something has decided that those who follow your advice and vision are a serious pain, they may attempt to remove you and some of your key allies. Hopefully to dishearten those who follow you. I would be surprised if the man I spoke of isn't dead, torchered for information. The Usurp...your God may have given you the vision to help in this fight. I've been trained to deal with these creatures since I was twelve."

She gave a wicked little smile, "I guess I got started a bit early in the go forth and smite the dark one's minions business."

The german shepherd ran smoothly behind the vampire, following his lead. Suddenly struck with a flash of insight, she threw herself off-stride and nearly tripped. Whining with anxiety and the need to be somewhere, she bit the end of his coat and tugged gently. Without hesitation, she tore past him and down the street, knowing where she was needed and hoping that he might take the hint. She was determined to make it there on time, her claws scrabbling on the concrete with the sudden burst of speed.

The Bishop fought to maintain an impassive visage, though the woman's slip-up had not escaped his attention. He was playing for time and information, passing off certain fixations and repetitions as the encroaching senility that comes with age.

"I am not entirely certain what you are getting at, my dear. Are you suggesting that something evil wants me dead? No doubt, as Satan loathes all who follow the light of God. But are you really implying that whatever these dark forces are, they would send someone to dispatch me?"

He opened a desk drawer on the premise of putting away the legal pad he'd been using.

The woman seemed to be trying to decide something. "Bishop Gray, I would say if your at all effective in your work against demons then yes you are going to wind up on the short list. Or that has been their previous policy. Of course they may not know who you are, just that they appear to have a convergence of toughter resistance than normal. Have you lost a rash of some of your active followers in recent months?"
Her hands have slipped off the arms of the chair, and are by her sides She pushes her hips forward as she crosses her legs.

Well I've slipped up here, the question is does this guy fall in catagory A, B, or C? Why do I think I'm dealing with a wantabe inquisitor here, a catagory A if there ever was one? Ah, yes he's trying to get as much out of me as possible...Well lets see what we have.

"I have a serious question for you Bishop Gray. Are individuals evil because they disagree with the Holy See and follow another path. Or is evil marked by its actions and thoughts?" Her right hand has slipped into her coat pocket.

"I may have lost a few," he began, searching his memory. "But such is the nature of war. I wouldn't say I've lost more than usual. Though a few of my best have begun to experience...somewhat adverse effects."

He placed the legal pad in the drawer, and subtly moved a few objects to the front, leaving the drawer part-way open.

"While I feel sorrow for those who do not embrace God, that does not make them evil. Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. Thoughts and actions can be an indicator, but are not necessarily tell-tale signs. THough of course this depends on the nature of the action.

I have found that most...creatures...do not choose to be evil. They are spun of unholy deeds or overcome by Satan's minions. They are not who they once were, and what now occupies that shell of a man is pure darkness. And it must be destroyed."

"I may have lost a few," he began, searching his memory. "But such is the nature of war. I wouldn't say I've lost more than usual. Though a few of my best have begun to experience...somewhat adverse effects."

He placed the legal pad in the drawer, and subtly moved a few objects to the front, leaving the drawer part-way open.

"While I feel sorrow for those who do not embrace God, that does not make them evil. Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. Thoughts and actions can be an indicator, but are not necessarily tell-tale signs. THough of course this depends on the nature of the action.

I have found that most...creatures...do not choose to be evil. They are spun of unholy deeds or overcome by Satan's minions. They are not who they once were, and what now occupies that shell of a man is pure darkness. And it must be destroyed."

"Hmm, if a person does no evil by thought or action. Then how do you know they are evil? Force them to drink holy water? Have them piss in a an evilness meter? As for how a person becomes evil, I disagree with the idea that most do not choose to be evil one of the few points I agree with most christians on is the concept of free will. Every individual or creature has the choice to control their own actions and fate. As such their choices usually led down the path, and they are fully aware of what those choices entail. They may ignore the consequences until it is too late, but that itself is a choice."

She appears to be come thoughtful for a second, "I've never quite found the Holy See's explination of how your God knows those actions before they have been made very compelling. I personally think that it is a poorly contrived cop-out allowing people free will, yet maintain the concept of a single, all knowing, infallitable deity. Not to say that both are mutually exculusive, but an answer on par with '875 Angels can dance on the end of a pin' which ignores the question, 'Why would angels convort on the end of a pin and not say a mountain top?' I may be culturally inclined to the concept that life is a test between good and evil. And That all individuals have both the capacity to do great good or great harm. In the end, it is the choices that they make that spell their fate." She realizes that she has gone off on a bit of a tangent and gets back to the matter at hand. Her left hand has now returned to the arm of the chair, the right remains in the pocket.

"Now what attribute would you use to determine the evil from those who are not?"

edit:typo's and realized my character got a bit ahead of herself.

Whiptail peeked quickly through the keyhole, then lightly rested his head against the adjoining wall. His keen hearing detected the vibrations of speech from the drywall, and was able to decipher the words of the conversation to a point...

Something struck him as odd, there was a creature of some power in the church, their aura carrying a slight demonic tone to it. This was a bad sign, for it meant that the bishop and the church might be in danger... He did not know how well the mysterious visitor conversing with the bishop could defend herself, so he would do his best to make sure she was the last line of defense, if the visitor was looking for trouble.

'If conflict is what they seek, it is death they will find... No-one enters the house of the Lord with evil intentions...'

Whiptail kept his senses on high alert, uncertain...

He sat forward in his seat a bit, becoming frustrated and impatient.

"Does this questioning have a point? I would love to have a discussion with you, but I have several other things to worry about at the moment. And the fact that you have neglected to introduce yourself is suspect."

The german shepherd ran smoothly behind the vampire, following his lead. Suddenly struck with a flash of insight, she threw herself off-stride and nearly tripped. Whining with anxiety and the need to be somewhere, she bit the end of his coat and tugged gently. Without hesitation, she tore past him and down the street, knowing where she was needed and hoping that he might take the hint. She was determined to make it there on time, her claws scrabbling on the concrete with the sudden burst of speed.

Christian turned, following the dog, pushing his way through the thick crowds. Most of the people were staring quite harshly at him as he pushed him out of the way, and cries of "fucking asshole" could be heard.

As they neared a crosswalk, the shepherd darted over as the light changed, and cars started to move by. Christian followed hotly, jumping over a car's hood. He couldn't remember when he felt so alive. He didn't want the flight to stop, but knew it would, and that brought him a fear and anxiety of where they would end up.

There was something slightly unnerving about being chased by a vampire, but she smirked to herself and kept running. The sense of urgency kicked in once more, and she followed its suggestions without hesitation.
Master is in trouble...
The idea behind the statement was a familiar one, yet she could not quite grasp it. Things would be made clear when she reached her final destination. Fleetly, she raced down sidewalks and alleys, lept fences of all make, and crossed the city streets without pausing to look both ways. She was getting closer, and something began to feel ominous about the whole situation.

The moment Izual entered the church, he sensed the supernatural being. Choosing not to release the knowledge of his awareness, The angel continued down the isle, searching for the retreating man. It was time to speak.

"Sir, I mean you know harm. I merely wish to speak with you."

The strong male voice echoed off the church walls.

OOC: Hey Danneland????? Where are you? :roll:

OOC:

Sorry that I have been away, but I've had some problems at home. I wont be able to post a real IC Post untill monday. Sorry all.

He sat forward in his seat a bit, becoming frustrated and impatient.

"Does this questioning have a point? I would love to have a discussion with you, but I have several other things to worry about at the moment. And the fact that you have neglected to introduce yourself is suspect."

Her shoulders seemed to relax a bit, and her eyes brightened. "Yes, the questions do have a point. You see in my experience so many of those in clerical collars would equate non-christian with evil. In their minds, the only people not guilty of being evil are those of the Catholic Church who tithe every week, do as their preist tells them, and prays only for the salvation of Catholics. A good deal of your fellow servants of Christ would rather force a confession out of someone like me than actually listen to what we have to say. A few in the Vatican feel that the Inquistion was a failure because it did not rid the world of those who oppose the Church."
Her voice has become ice cold over time, but she suddenly seems to mellow a bit "Nor are all of you in that catagory, we have several members of the Catholic clergy who attempt to keep us in the loop of similar matters. However, approaching Catholics is always a dicy move in my line of work. As such I have purposefully held both my name and who I represent to my chest since I really don't need to be fighting two enemies at once. Based on some of your responses I think we can help each other. I can help you and your mission. And I very much beleive that whatever has caused the disapperance I'm intrested in will turn up here, since the present evidence indicates that they are connected somehow."

She holds his gaze and asks. "The real question is, are you willing to accept help from a non-Christian?"

There was something slightly unnerving about being chased by a vampire, but she smirked to herself and kept running. The sense of urgency kicked in once more, and she followed its suggestions without hesitation.
Master is in trouble...
The idea behind the statement was a familiar one, yet she could not quite grasp it. Things would be made clear when she reached her final destination. Fleetly, she raced down sidewalks and alleys, lept fences of all make, and crossed the city streets without pausing to look both ways. She was getting closer, and something began to feel ominous about the whole situation.

The sun was starting to set as Christian kept up pursuit. His chest started feeling heavy, that standard feeling of the fleeting innocence he was entitled to when the voices left. He kept running, trying to ignore the pressure closing in on him, but he started feeling weaker, human, infantile.

And as the sun sets, we come back...

Christian tried to keep his mouth shut, ignoring the voices, focusing all his attention on the task before him, pursuing the running hound.

You don't know what evil intentions she's masking. You've passed the church ages ago! Do you have any clue who she could be leading you to? Just look behind you! The crucifix diminishes in size! Don't follow! You're headed for oblivion!

"No," he whispered as he ran to himself, keeping his thoughts in check. "I won't trust you again. Not now, not ever."

Then enjoy your path of self-destruction. You've been warned.

Sam looked at the strange being infront of him, he didnt quite know what to think of the situation, he had bursted through the doors to the church..
He stood now infront of a crusifix, frightend, holding a tight gripp around his book.

"what do you mean.. you want to help me?!.. you'r following me.. you'r one of them.. aint you? Dont try to fool me just because I have a bad memory"

The words he said wasnt his, he didnt quite know who they came from.
He was confused, in an act of desperasy (sp?) he pulled up his camera and took a photo of the man infront of him, using maximum flash.

He then ran towards a door, bursting through it there were two people in the room. A priest and.. some other...

OOC: Soory for the short post. I'l post longer later today.

She holds his gaze and asks. "The real question is, are you willing to accept help from a non-Christian?"

The Bishop smiled at some private joke in response. He started to speak, but cut himself off as a familiar face burst into the office. Despite the sudden and unexpected entry, he remained calm and still without as much as a flinch. The young man looked terrified and confused, but that was somewhat expected. Standing, Bishop Gray crossed the room quickly and shut the door, effectively isolating the three of them.

"Everything alright?"

Maximus watched carefully from within the church, high up and near the ceiling, hidden in the shadows. A young man had burst through the doors of the church and had gone into the room he was watching. The Argonian, Whiptail, had moved safely out of range just in time before the young man came through. Neither he nor Maximus had been spotted, but the two were watching the door closely. Maximus thought he heard a random thought come from the Argonian:

After I find out what's going on here, I shall search for the demon...

Maximus opened his eyes slightly, surprised. The Argonian had detected him, despite Maximus's strong manipulation skills...perhaps the Argonian had smelled him...

Nevertheless, he would try to smooth things over with Whiptail when the time came...

Sam looked at the strange being infront of him, he didnt quite know what to think of the situation, he had bursted through the doors to the church..
He stood now infront of a crusifix, frightend, holding a tight gripp around his book.

"what do you mean.. you want to help me?!.. you'r following me.. you'r one of them.. aint you? Dont try to fool me just because I have a bad memory"

The words he said wasnt his, he didnt quite know who they came from.
He was confused, in an act of desperasy (sp?) he pulled up his camera and took a photo of the man infront of him, using maximum flash.

He then ran towards a door, bursting through it there were two people in the room. A priest and.. some other...

OOC: Soory for the short post. I'l post longer later today.

Izual replied in complete calm.

"Yes, I'm here to help you. I need to speak with you to be able to help you."

The flash barely phased his angelic eyes as he followed the distressed man into the room. The longer he followed this one, the sense of his importance grew stronger.

Luthien continued on his way through downtown L.A. He sensed that Sam was close now. He walked through an alley, walking past a homeless man. The man was filthy, smelly, and only half-conscious, but Luthien could feel the waves of pain and sorrow wafting off the man the same as a man can see or smell. He knelt down and placed his hand on the man's chest. The bum was somewhat startled and met the archangel's gaze.

"Be calm, my friend," he said in a soft tone of voice.

The homeless man felt the healing energies wash over him and for a moment felt at peace.

"Don't be afraid," the archangel continued. "He has not forgotten about you. He still cares."

The homeless man gazed after Luthien as he walked away, filled with a sense of wonder. The archangel kept walking and didn't look back. Although he knew it was not his place to give the man the life that he wanted, he had helped him regain some of his faith. And sometimes, faith was enough.

Luthien quickened his pace and walked on. He could sense numerous supernatural presences nearby, and it was likely that not all of them were friendly. He reached out with his mind for other servants of Heaven, attempting to borrow their eyes...

The woman had not been expecting the sudden intrusion. After all she thought she had locked the door. She jumped out of the chair, and pulled out two handguns from under her coat. When she realized that the Bishop recogznied the man she let the two automatics fall to her side.

OOC: Assume my character is just listening to the coversation for the moment.

Sierra felt like she was running in circles. She'd been following her instincts with a near religious ferver, darting in random directions here and there. Now, she found herself approaching the small church from the back. Something was important here, and her sense of belonging increased. Confused, she followed the chosen course with no less speed and finally stopped beneath a window. As a demon, this place should feel inherently wrong, yet this was unqestioningly where she needed to be.

Standing on her hind legs, she placed her paws on the windw sill to see what was inside, though a drawn shade obstructed her view. For now, the sense of urgency had diminished, so she paced beneath the window to wait for another sign, and to stand guard at that portal.

Maximus caught movement on the edges of his periphreal vision. Turning his head, he spied a German Shepard peering inside the church, before dropping out of sight once again.

That's unnatural...that is no normal dog...a shapeshifter? A demon? Nevertheless, this place is getting quite the visitors on this night...

OOC: I'll assume that Dougalich is Tarlacharia.

IC:

Whiptail's senses lit up suddenly, his keen sense of smell detecting the scent of his age-old foe... a vampire. Making a mental note to keep his thoughts in his head, Whiptail melted into the shadows. Using his clawed limbs, he dragged himself up a nearby pillar and into the shadowy corners of the vaulted ceiling...

OOC: WA, you're correct that Dougalich is also I. Sorry for that, NS is sometimes retarded, and doesn't changed my nation's name, even if I've changed it back to the correct one...

Christian slowed to a stop. A familiar essence surrounded this place. It looked familiar. He hadn't been to this place in ages, ever since maybe 30 years ago he was committed to the local insane assylum. When the assylum burned down, he was only 20, and was out on the streets on his own.

-

It was maybe 1976 or so, and he was walking along by this church. He remembered it clearly. He had left his home, abandoned by his parents, kicking him out after they found his expensive cocaine habit. He hated them. He was nothing compared to his brother, who had been through the last years of Vietnam and come out with honors for heroism.

He had been walking along, and heard a child crying in the alley, and being the good Samaritan as he always played, he had moved in then to see what was wrong. It was a girl, maybe 4 or 5 in age, complaining that she had lost her mommy. Christian decided to help her. As he started walking across the street with her, he started to communicate with her. For some reason, the people were staring at him oddly, as if no one was there. The streets became crowded, and he started pushing his way through. Gradually, it was chaos. People attacking him from all sides, as if a riot against him had sprung out of nowhere.

And, in an instance, they all vanished again, leaving the little girl standing alone with him in an abandoned warehouse. He wouldn't forget what she had told him, because what she said was disgustingly true. It was vague now, lost in meaning, but the depth still remained for those to witness it: "If you still love me, why are you destroying me?"

As she said this, the world blanked back into realism. Everyone was surrounding, and a few paramedics had come around. Later that day, he discovered he had something of a recessive schizophrenia that came out in him, most likely from his substance abuse. Afterwards, he was committed to an asylum. People wouldn't harbor an insane man, and he had no ability to work. He stood there for maybe a year or so, until in 1977, a mysterious boiler room fire burned the whole structure down. His short lived visit left him out on the street again, along with numerous insane.

He came back to the church, knowing it would be his point of salvation. The people there would help him. The surroundings would get his mind off of the harsh 'realities' that plagued him every now and then, and he could rest. But as he stayed there, he took a liking to the graveyard. Every night, a stranger, a woman, would come and head into the crypt before dawn. One night, he approached her.

He ran up to her, screaming for her to stop, and she halted, turning to face him. She was tall and slender, full of elegance and grace. Something about her features suggested a feline, and she was finely dressed in what appeared to be a white and black jumpsuit, clearly outlining her body. He couldn't say that she wasn't beautiful.

"Hello, Christian."

"How do you know me?"

"Despite what you think, I'm not a figment. I've followed you nigh and far, and I can say that you are quite the character. Quite intriguing. Christian, have you ever wondered what it would be like to take a cure from this world? I've seen you before, and knew your suffering, but I know how to relieve it."

"All so sudden. Why are you interested in helping me?"

"Needless to say, my time grows short, and I need a successor. We can do this two ways, willingly, or forcefully. Either way, I can't gaurantee a pleasant trip."

At this point, she stopped, and sunk her teeth into his neck, and that was the last he remembered until he woke up awhile later in a grave? A coffin? 6 feet underground? He pushed against the lid of what appeared to be a coffin at first guess, and it gave way. It opened into a mortuary. On the ground lay scattered corpses. The same woman was there.

"They were trying to bury you. Fortunately, I saved you that problem. Simply, I have a mission to ask of you. My time, as I said before that previous eve, is growing short. People are coming for me... no, not people. Creatures. Creatures beyond your wildest dreams, each imbued with immortal cruelty. They are my enemy, and because they know you are a part of me, they will come for you. I decided on you as an ally, Christian, because you, unlike so many others, have a gift. What you mistake for insanity is only a cure; a cure for the near-sightedness of the future. What you see in your dreams, illusions, and hear from the voices in your head will try to help you, guide you, but in times they will come in conflict. Listen to the dreams. They are the best insight. They will be vague, but as time progresses, they will come clear. Now, I must leave. The enemy knows that I made you, and that they will come for you. I recommend you don't stay around too long. A dead human has a way of calling people to it, especially when drained of blood."

She stood up and walked away. And that was the end of his memory of his vague... creator, as she had called herself.

-

"This place is familiar," he said as the flashback finished playing in his mind. He moved up to the German shepherd, and ducked down, out of the sight of the window. "I've been here before," he whispered. "It hasn't changed.... whatever. I think we ought to enter, but not by the window. The main entry will be best. I have a feeling that if we arouse suspicion, we'll be dead before we know it. Are you coming?"

Sierra was hesitant to leave the window, and found a great deal of effort was required to lift her feet for those first few steps. Though gradually it became easier, and she padded after Christian, trusting that he had some insight she lacked. Breifly, she contemplated shifting to her other form but summarily dismissed the thought as foolish and unsafe. At least as a dog, she was a bit more inconspicuous.

(OOC: ASW, what happened to your thread? Did everyone just cease to exist or what?)

OOC: Apparently, people lost interest in The Thing. I'm going to send out TGs sooner or later. Probably tomorrow.

IC:

Christian came around to the front two doors of the church. He swung it open, leading into the main lobby. It was rather deserted. The shepherd padded in after him. He closed the door softly. The entire building reeked of incessant evil. It had changed since he had last been in there.

"It would be best if you changed back to human. I don't know what's lurking around here, but it doesn't seem pleasant. Come, I have a feeling Sam is in here."

He headed down a hallway, which lead into the main hall. Rows of seats were left empty, and at the far end, there stood a little pedestal where a preacher would typically be on a Sunday afternoon. The entire area seemed so desolate. The organ pit was empty, but some sheet music lay out.

Sure, could be fun, he thought, walking over. He sidled over across the room, and sat on the little bench, cracking his knuckles. He placed his finger on the key and a sound of the electric organ echoed out. Apparently, some idiot left it on. Christian looked at the sheet music, and started to play Swing Low, Sweet Chariot. Maybe if he was lucky, he could get people to come to the main hall instead of having to go to them.

Glancing around, she found no one in sight and shifted back mid-stride, which was quite a feat of balance. She'd been exploring a few of the empty pews when the chord was struck and jumped in surprize, growling somewhat.

"What are you doing?" she snapped quietly. "You have no idea what might be lurking here...why bring it here and give up the element of surprize?"

"I learned a valuable lesson once: 'always bring to you what you could find.' A simple matter of logic. There are people here who are probably out for me. To simply alert them of my presence would be an acknowledgement that I am more than ready for an attack and aware of their presence. In turn, it's unlikely that an attempt at a surprise attack is lessened. If we're aware of their presence, we would typically watch our backs with more... what's the word... efficiency. Of course, I could be entirely wrong, but once again, my logic is corrupt. Besides, I haven't touched this piano in years... oh, and not to mention, there's a dead priest on the lower keys."

He held open the top of the instrument. Along the hammers and strings, there was, as Christian had stated, a dead priest.

"How did I know? Remember when we met back in the alleyway? Before, I had a brief dream. A dream with a tree, and some children, and hundreds of people in a mass grave. He was one of them. There were scratches up and down his body, like piano wires cutting flesh. There were also bruises that looked like something similar of a piano hammer. Now, just seeing this instrument makes it simple. One victim accounted for. As for the significance, null, perhaps. This one seems old, though. All the flesh is decayed off of him. He's pretty much bones. Been here a long time... amazing he was never found.

"I'd think we should find who's responsible, but I'm not one for heroics."

He set the piano lid down softly. He looked at his acquaintance.

"I know my way around here. If we're going to find anyone, they'd be in the back offices. Follow."

He stood up, and headed to the altar. On the side of the walls, there were two doors. He opened one, revealing an entryway into a courtyard. All along the walls, there were numerous doors.

"Best had start to look, eh? Lots of options."

She was not particularly fond of Christian's newfound command. Yet she followed without question, hesisitating only to investigate the dead body. Something smelled strange about it, but she couldn't quite place it. Sticking her head through the open doorway, she smelled the air, determined to take the most direct route.

There were many dark smells here, and several light ones. She shuddered in spite of herself, knowing that both held high risks for their own reasons. Two scents in particular stood out.

"He's here... This way," she prompted softly, and crept soundlessly in that general direction.

Izual merel stood in the doorway, siltently behind Sam. He hadn't noticed Izual's presence yet, but the other two had. He nodded to them both in acknowledgement when he was overwhelmed by the presence of another angelic. Izual soon realised what he was attempting and allowed the other angel to see through his eyes, to hear through his ears and to communicate his thoughts.

It did not take Luthien long to contact another servant of heaven, for his mind was powerful. It also did not take him long to recognize the angel's very mind as he borrowed the other's senses.

Ahh, Izual, the archangel's voice spoke in the other's mind. The demon hunter. I hope your skills are still sharp. The enemy has sent a servant to the city, someone very powerful. I do not know whom, but I can sense the taint somewhere in the city. I see that you have found Sam; do not stray far from him. I do not know if the enemy will be so bold as to try and capture him and hide him away, but it would be best not to give them the chance. Another possibility is that they will send minions to eliminate any angelic beings close to him-yourself at the moment-so that they can tempt him without interruption. Either way, stay alert. I will meet with you in time...

The archangel allowed the connection to fade and continued walking, feeling a little better knowing Sam to be in good hands.

OOC: Just a head's up...I'll be out of town for a few days, so don't expect to hear from me.

Izual listened as Luthien communicated his message.

"I shall do so Luthien. None shall get passed me. I shall see you soon, godspeed."

Izual continued to pay sharp attention, noticing the two other beings within the church area. These two were not human. He decided to stay by Sam's side, let the battle come to him if need be.

(Soundtrack: Iced Earth - Pure Evil)

Neras tore down the street in the Jag, with Iced Earth's Pure Evil blasting on the vehicle's rather impressive stereo. As much as he despised humanity, he had to admit that their music had come a long way since he had last walked the Earth.

The light ahead changed to red, and as much as he hated to follow "the rules," the demon decided it would be better to stop and preserve the sweet car he had snagged rather than running the light and risking an accident. While stopped, he glanced over at the crowded sidewalk, noticing one man in particular. Drug dealer, he thought. Probably packing a gun, and probably jacked on something. Smiling to himself, the demon reached out with his mind, planting the notion in the man's brain that someone had picked his pocket. He heard the man cry out in protest.

"What's your problem man?! Think you can steal from me?"

The light turned green and the Jag sped away, and the demon heard the sounds of gunfire and screams from behind him. I had forgotten how much fun this place is...

Neras had last walked the earth over 1500 years before, sent to Earth by the lord of Hell to wreak havoc. The problem was, he did his job too well. So much chaos and bloodshed was caused by the demon, that the primitive human barbarians began to worship him and offer sacrifices in his name to appease his wrath. Angered that Neras was drawing so much power to himself, his master recalled him to hell. The Beast would not suffer another rival, and it seemed that Neras would never again be allowed back on Earth. Until now. The stakes were too high this time, and the Prince of Darkness knew that there were few in his service as powerful or capable as Neras. And so, with some reluctance, he had allowed the mighty demon back to Earth, on the condition that he complete the tasks assigned to him. And while Neras would do the work that was required of him, he could see no reason not to have some fun in the process.

The Jaguar finally reached its destination, a run down warehouse near the coast. It had been purchased some time ago by mortal servants of his master, and would serve as a safehouse and base of sorts from which he would coordinate his operations in the city. As planned, a team of men was there to meet him. There were a dozen mortal soldiers, their loyalties bought by his master. The mercenaries would make the first attempt to take Sam. Although the demon knew it was likely that they would fail, they would at the least test the might of Sam's angelic defenders, who were no doubt shadowing him by now. The group stepped inside the warehouse, out of sight of any who might be watching.

The warehouse was quite spacious, and far from full. There were crates of weapons and ammunition for the many mortal servants Neras might employ for his task, and half a dozen non-descript vehicles as well. 3 were vans, and there were 2 cars and a large truck as well. The most remarkable feature in the warehouse was a large and clearly unholy altar. With the aid of this, Neras would be able to easily summon forth the servants of Hell that would be needed to complete his task. The men stood back as the demon strode to the altar and placed a hand upon it. He wasted no time in beginning a chant in a foul otherworldly language. When his incantation reached its crescendo, a number of demonic creatures clawed their way through the dimensional rip from the netherworld. There were five summoned in total, four of which resembled large, bloodshot eyeballs roughly half the size of a human head, with large bat-like wings. These would be fairly useful scouts and would help the forces of Hell locate Sam. The fifth monster was a warrior, a demon standing some 8 feet tall and rippling with powerful sinews. It had a large head with a somewhat oversized lower jaw, from which two great tusks protruded. Two big horns sprouted from the sides of its head, resembling the horns of an ox. Its skin was red and scaly, and its long arms ended in meaty clawed hands. A powerful, prehensile tail dragged behind it as it stepped completely through the portal. The monster tipped back its head and let our a great roar, thumping its chest with its fists. Neras sighed. Not much for subtlety, and not very bright, but the demon should prove quite useful in battle.

Neras ordered the big demon to silence itself and strode over to the mercenaries, who appeared quite nervous.

"You have been told your mission already, correct?" he stated more than questioned. The men nodded slowly. "Good. We will find the target, and then you will acquire him. Prepare yourselves, it should not take long."

The greater demon issued a command in his unholy tongue to the scouts, who flew out of the warehouse at great haste. They enacted their camoflouge abilities as they left, making them very difficult to see to the naked eye. Neras smiled to himself. Between the demonic scouts and the mortal spies scouring the city for Sam, it would not be long before he was found...

Christian followed at Sierra's heels, until they came to a door. Behind it, mumbling could be heard. Two voices were inside. Christian decided to throw away his subtlety, and placed his hand on the doorknob. He flung it open and looked inside. He had, indeed found who he was looking for. Sam and Bishop Gray were on the other side.

"Javol, commandants," he said thickly. "I've been looking for you for a long time, and now, quite frankly that we meet in real life, Sam, I can't say much about who you are."

There was also a woman who was decidely unhappy about the second, sudden intrusion into the room. As could be deduced from the two automatic hand guns now pointing at the new guests.
"I don't know who you are, but you and the dog can stay right where you are..." the voice was clipped and her eyes seemed to show no emotion.

"Come, shoot me. It won't do you any good." Christian opened his arms wide and narrowed his eyes at the gun point. "It hurts like a bitch, but it won't do you any good at all. I've been having one Hell of a day, and if you'll excuse me, I'd kindly like a few answers about myself and the 'people' who seem to enjoy inhabiting my cranial cavity..."

The corner of her mouth moved up in wry grin. Her eyes just sparkeled a bit. The guns switched targets, "Thank You, now I know to use something a little more powerful than solid lead on you...As for the party in your head I really don't care. But being so rude to burst in on our party without knocking is a bit disturbing."

From the shadows above, Whiptail watched the entrance of several others... as with the angels, he too felt a demoic presence in the city, suddenly growing stronger...

'Reinforcements...'

Whiptail thought, struggling to keep his footing in the rafters. Briefly hanging by a single clawed hand, he slid the Berretta into his belt. With the practiced skill of one who enters unseen, he swung himself to another rafter, using the momentum to swing around and land atop it.

He was now closer to the gathered humans, yet still undetectable. There was a strong angelic presence in the church, previously dismissed as the presence of a truly pious bishop...

"None less than a bazooka next time, I'm sure," he said softly. "But what you don't realize is that you can't stay here. There are things out searching for you. I saw your faces in the mass grave. If we stay here, it's gauranteed we'll get rended limb from limb by something that I don't even know about, and that says a lot.

"But first," he said, turning his anxious eyes to Sam, "do you recognize me? Do you remember me in the slightest? Who I am? What you did for me? Against them?"

Izual sensed the movement immediately. He pretended to be unaware, but his angelic senses alerted him of the being within the rafters. He did not sense ill intent from this one, perhaps a demon hunter?

He remained distinctly silent as the one with the weapons talked with another intruder. He was fairly sure none were aware of his true identity. Izual remained close to Sam, he didn't want to risk anything around people he did not know or trust.

The demonic scouts were shockingly effective at their task. Informants had given Neras the general area Sam had been sighted in, and he passed this information on to the scouts. They split up, cutting the area into smaller sections that each scout sped through, quickly evaluating for any sign of Sam and then moving on. It did not take them long to converge on the church. They could feel Sam's presence nearby, as well as a number of other supernatural beings. Convinced that they had found the right location, the scouts mentally relayed the information back to their master, then continued to explore the old church.

"Ahh, so he has gone to see the good Bishop," the demon hissed, turning to face the team of mercenaries. "The target has been located. Proceed to the location, eliminate any guardians he may have, and capture the target. Simple."

Neras gave them the address of the church, and the men climbed into a large van.

"Go with them," Neras ordered the large demon he had summoned.

The demon climbed in the back of the van, the only place that it would fit. Neras watched the van leave the warehouse and speed away. Now all that was left for him to do was wait...

((OOC: She's in human form atm, Alcona))

Sierra growled at the woman, and crouched as if ready to spring at her. There was something odd here, a piece that didn't quite fit. And a strong urge to play the role of protector took hold. Her personal safety came second, but as long as the offending woman didn't point her weapons elsewhere, there was no immediate problem.

Maximus smelled the lizard creature suddenly nearby him. Somewhat infuriated with a possibility of being discovered, quickly moved, silently away, remaining in the shadows of the ceiling.

He glanced down as some more people entered the church.

Most interesting...I wonder what is going on?

Maximus sensed that something was going on, something he was well familiar with. Pure evil was nearby, pure evil. He however did not allow the evil to sense his presence. He refused to do evil things for a simple reason. He hated being told what to do. Thus, as a result, he would become a hidden dark shadow protector of the one known as Sam.

Izual could sense many beings within the vicinity of the church, almost all being supernatural. This wasn't good. Izual could protect Sam, but he didn't know what would happen to nearby innocents. There was definately demonkind in the city, a growing number.

He could only hope that other angelic forces would arrive with speed.

OOC: I hate this forum, I've tried to reply like 4 times but it hasnt happend. I hope it works this time.


IC:


Sam looked at the angelic being infront of him, and then at the bishop, and then at the other person.. his head spun around.
And then another two people came bursting through the door.
So many people, and everyone seemed to know who he was.. but he had no idea who the hell all these other figures were.
His eyes turned towards Christian who spoke to him.
"wha..who?..me?.."
This was just to mutch, his mind couldnt focus, his eyes started to fade and a moment later he fell down, uncontious.
His book left his hand and fell down beside him, pictures spread out around him.
In his mind, the beings of the underworld crawled up, demons, undead.. evil. Flashes of death, and then a face he knew to well. His father.
Somewhere in his mind he knew that he had passed out, and that he shouldnt be dreaming at all. It should be black, but none the less... he was.. dreaming.. somehow.

The strange thing was, that the book opened up at page number 7, with a picture of bishop gray holding up a golden crusifix at St.Peters Church in Rome, the crusifix shined in a golden light. Behind him the pope stood holding up his arms in the air.

So, Sam had apperantly been there, at that moment.. and something did happend then.. but what..

And the bad thing about Sam passing out, was that he would probably not remember a thing from the past hours.

She nearly panicked when Sam lost consciousness and lept across the room to check on him. Completely forgetting about the woman with the guns, she crouched at his side and quickly checked for injuries. Satisfied that he was mostly alright, she finally noticed the book and stared at the picture with an eerie sense of familiarity. Carefully, she brought herself to close the book and placed it between them, taking careful note of the page to recount later.

"Damn, alright I see that everything centers around this 'person' she indicates Sam on the floor. I don't know what the hell is going on but I'm sick and tired of the interuptions. And I'm feeling less and less secure around here. Perhaps we should move this little congress to somewhere more secure, like where the locks on the fricken doors actually work!"

She hadn't tried to stop the odd woman who growled. Nor was she all that inclined to listen to the man who had come in with her, she just decided that this place wasn't very secure.

"That's probably a good idea," she acknowledged.

Things had begun to feel more and more ominous as time progressed and if they were still safe at the moment, they wouldn't be in the near future. As a demon, she was able to sense others approaching and she didn't like where things were leading.

Standing, she lifted Sam and carried him on her back.

"Anyone have any suggestions? We need to move now."

"I've got a safehouse in the werehouse district. Any one who attempts to enter uninvited would get a very warm reception." She lowers her guns and turns to look out the window. "Do you have any more of your hunters that need to tag along, or is it just the five of us?" She asked in a cool voice.

Izual was not concerned about Sam losing consciousness. No harm would come to him of it. The demon woman picking him up was another matter. Izual did not trust any within the room, save for maybe the bishop, but that was yet to be determined.

Izual stepped forward and raised his arms toward Sam.

"I believe I should take hold of this one. He will be in safe hands."

The guns went up again. "Who the hell are you?" The woman demanded, her eyes blazed anger at yet another interuption.

"We're a bit tight on time," she prompted, and headed for the door.

The sense of urgency was growing, and she desperately felt that they needed to get out of there. With so much uncertainty, there was no way she was giving up Sam. Especially not to an angel.
He'd probably destroy me the second he got the chance, she thought bitterly.

A voice sounding like more of a growl echoes through the church...

"A place of worship is no place for weapons... dispose of them, they are not needed... I protect this house of the Lord, and no blood will be shed within its walls while I live... "

The echoing prevented Whiptail's discovery by echo-location, the shadows hiding his dark form...

The van carrying the servants of hell pulled up near the church. The mercenaries swiftly exited the vehicle and grabbed assault weapons. They wore masks over their heads and body armour. They did not know what was in the church, but they were very capable warriors, all of them composed of ex-S.W.A.T. or ex-military.

One of the men opened the back of the van, and the massive demon warrior burst out, narrowly missing the merc with its bulk. The demon sniffed the air and growled. It sensed a holy presence, from both the church, and the angel inside. The large beast lumbered towards the building, eyes burning with hatred. It had been bred to crush enemies in direct combat; it had neither the brains nor the desire to do complicated tactical planning. The mercs scrambled after it, cursing to themselves. So much for tactics...

OOC: Neras' servants will attack just as everybody inside is about to leave. Just FYI, so no one makes a post about leaving and going somewhere else.

She arched an eyebrow at the voice. "Alright, this is getting to be a pain. I've got a voice ordering me to drop my weapons, a something grabbing a human and walking out the door...a bishop who must play poker with the devil himself, a something that does not like the something else, and Mr. doom and gloom." She had started to almost shout. First Mister I'm so damn cool because I can throw my voice around the whole damn rectory. I'm not going to piddle with you about my weapons. Let's just remember that his orginization..." She points to the Bishop..."has more blood on it's hands than it can ever wash off. Nor am I going to start desecrating the house of your Lord, let's just call me a scared little pagen who does not want to die in it. So either drop the issue or come down here and make me, voice boy."

She pauses and looks at the two who look about ready to fight over Sam.
"Four hands make's a lighter load than two. So both of you keep tabs on him and each other. It's fairly obvious that you don't care for one another, but we will deal with your problem later."
She turns to the figure in the doorway.
"Now Mr. Doom and Gloom to you have anything more constructive to add besides your poor rendition of Danger Will Robinson, Danger like the direction of the perceived threat and who is comming to put my lovely face in a mass grave?"

"And are you going to be any help Bishop Grey, or just stand around with your face agape at the local Union of Weirdo's meeting?"
Her thoughts are somewhat conflicting but...I should have gone into tiger hearding


OOC: That was a bit of my OOC fustration bleeding in but really my character is about ready to quit and go heard cats for all the stiff necked people around. She has figured out that it appears only three people in the room are human, the others...well she has incorrect guesses.

IC: A car passes the van of mercs and swerves to avoid hitting one, the wheels shrek on the wet pavement.

The screech of brakes makes the woman look out the window. The driver on the car is getting back onto the right side of the street. One of the street lamps shows a shadow of a person for a moment and then it vanishes.
"Ah someone check the front door, I think danger boy was very, very right."

Her ears pricked a bit at a sound outside. She thought she heard a car door, but couldn't be certain. Shuddering, she sensed the large demon and cursed under her breath.

"Angel! Take him. Don't let anyone leave. Please..you have to trust me."

Ignoring the angry woman, she shoved Sam at the angel and turned to leave without waiting. She grabbed Christian on her way out, and dragged him along.

"Stay inside. I don't know if I need your help yet, but keep an eye on it."

Running between the pews, she jumped over the last few rows, shifting back to the german shepherd mid-air. She nosed the door aside and cautiously stepped out. Hopefully this form would be less likely to draw an attack from any trigger-happy demons or mercenaries, and anything familiar with the Darkness should recognise her as a demon without question. She padded out into the churchyard warily, unsure of a plan but hoping something would come to her.

Maximus listened in on the conversation, and watched intently as a woman ran out of the room of conflict, and morph into a German Shepard.

So I was right about that dog...

He could sense the approaching demons. Even if they were cousins of his, he wouldn't let these purely evil beings wreak unnecessary evil upon the world. Drawing Glamdring, he made his way to the front entrance and dropped to the ground, firmly balanced, and opened the door which had closed from the dog. Glamdring shone in the light from inside the church as he held it at the ready while facing the demons, blocking the entrance.

"You have no business here. I advise you to leave."

Maximus flashed his fangs at them, and prepared himself for a possible fight. He sent a thought back toward the Argonian still in the rafters of the church.

<<Stranger, come here. I know you don't trust me, but trust me when I say that there's a larger threat out here. I intend to stop them, but your assistance will be appreciated.>>

The big demon slowed its stride as the dog came out the church's front door. The mercs reflexively pointed their assault rifles and submachine guns as soon as they saw movement, but did not fire.

The demon sensed immediately that this was one of its kind. It wasn't intelligent by demonic standards, but it still possessed a sense for the supernatural. It rumbled something in its foul speech, that the dog-demon would understand as "who are you, what are you doing here," and "where is the man I am seeking."

The demon waited impatiently for answers, clenching and unclenching its great fists...

Sierra shifted back into the human-like form, having caught the demon's attention. The pointed tips of her ears were visible through her short pixie-spiked hair, and her fangs bared in a dark grin. Striding quickly, she dropped to one knee before the large demon, and lowered her hard amber gaze.

"I am the lesser demon Sierra, sent to secure your prey, my lord. I have well and faithfully discharged the duties set upon me, and for a job so expediently done, I beg praise of my lord. Come, I'll take you to the human."

She stood and turned, hoping the big demon would follow, and nearly lost her bearing seeing another in the churchyard. Fiercely, she half-hissed at this new creature and cursed at him angrily through thought. Damnit, you had better not misread my signs..

(Soundtrack: Marilyn Manson - Rock is Dead)

OOC: I wrote my post before Tarlachia posted, so for the sake of not rewriting it I will leave it as is. Just consider my post to have come before his.

Also, don't feel forced to have a character die or anything in this battle. This is not really a serious attempt by Neras to capture Sam; he knows it is likely to fail. He is simply testing the strength of those currently attempting to protect Sam.

IC: The demon warrior grunted in response to Sierra's words. Being only a soldier himself, he was not in a position to grant out rewards to other lesser demons.

"Take me to him," the demon snarled, this time in the human-tongue.

The appearance of another being at the church's entrance no doubt ruined any sort of plan Sierra had in mind, as even the slow-witted warrior demon realized that she was not telling the truth. If she was, why would an obviously hostile being have stepped out of the church?

The warrior demon roared in rage, immediately springing into combat mode. It swung a hard backhand at Sierra and then leapt headfirst towards the church. The sword wielder may have been guarding the church's doorway, but the demon had never intended to use the door. Making its own would be much more fun!

The demon smashed through the church wall like it was made of tissue paper, landing in a shoulder roll and crushing a number of pews. It was on its feet in an instant, and roared its challenge as it snatched up broken pew halves in each hand. It stalked towards the back of the church, its evil eyes carefully gazing for any sign of its target...or an enemy to destroy.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Outside the church, the 12 mercenaries did not hesitate to open fire on the man in the doorway, turning the church courtyard into a warzone. Each man was carrying either an assault rifle or submachine gun, and each carried a 10mm pistol as a back-up. The air was filled with the sound of automatic gunfire as the battle began...

Sierra was hit and sent flying sideways. She hit the ground with her shoulder, and skid-rolled to a stop, before shaking the stars out of her eyes. Well that certainly didn't work.. Snarling fiercely, she lept at the nearest mercenary and proceeded to tear him to shreds with her sharp fangs and claws...

Maximus flipped backwards into the church once again, enraged at such a cowardly act. He moves toward the demon, jumps up and kicks the pew pieces away, and lands with the sword at the demon's neck, pressing dangerously into his neck.

"Don't even think about it." he hissed, as he heard the female demon fighting just outside. Bullets riddled the doorway and the outside wall of the church.

He knew that the religious ones here would be unhappy with this...very unhappy...

In Sam mind, his dreams.. the demons were comming closer, he had fled into a tomb.. wich lead into a huge catacomb. In the middle was a large cascet. The cascet was made out of stone and had runes carved in, the entire catacomb was made out of gray stone. Pillars of light on the side and an altar at the far end.

There, in his dreams, Sam stood with his book, his camera and his pictures in his hands. With the demons, skelletons, undead and other various creatures of evil.

He knew this was not real, that this was only a dream.. though.. it didnt seem to stop. The dream just kept on going.

He turned his head towards the croud of evil, and faced an evil being. This one he couldnt recognize. This one wasnt the devil himselfe.. no, this one was one of his minions.

Sam raised his hands and pressed the button on the camera, taking a picture of the demon. The demon screamed in pain as his lost soul was captured in the picture. Forever he and the picture was one, the demon fell down on the ground, growling in pain.

Sam on the other hand couldnt understand why the demon screamed, he just put the picture in his pocket.

And then he was awake...


----

His eyes looked around, he was on someones back. And there were other people here, and gunfire, and a priest.
Sam tried to remember how he had got here.. nothing.. what was his name.. nothing..
Parrents.. yes, he had parrents. Mom and a dad. Names? nothing.

He looked around once more, he noticed a book on the floor. and in his mind he thought.. there is a book on the floor.. I wonder what its about
Then he noticed the gunfire again.. GUNFIRE?!

Sam jumped of the back and ran straight into a wall, screaming in fear for his life. He passed out once again.

Though, falling down.. the picture of the demon fell out of his pocket. The picture, wich was taken in his dreams.. not in this world...

OOC: Wretchengard the demon on the picture is the same as in the church.

The warrior demon was surprised at first to find a blade at its neck, but only for an instant. It had been bred and built for combat, after all. The demon simply dropped backwards away from the blade, sweeping its tail into the unknown creature's legs to trip him. The demon completed a backwards roll to regain its footing, and snatched a pew off of the ground in one fluid motion.

With a roar, the creature sent from Hell brought the pew slamming down at its enemy in an attempt to crush it...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Outside the church, the mercs cursed as their target evaded them. Then there came a shriek from within their ranks as the traitor-demon tore into the merc that had been closest to her. 7 of the mercenaries ran into the church to pursue the enemy that had been in the doorway; the remaining 4 turned their weapons on the demoness as she finished off their comrade. Gunfire split the night again as the mercs tried to finish off the demon who had slain one of their number...

In her unholy fury, she darted from side to side, presenting a most difficult target. Circling somewhat, she overtook her next victem, using him as a human shield before tearing into the vulnerable parts of his uniform. She would continue in this manner until they retreated or were all dead. Though she was not impervious to bullets, she was so focused that any wounds would escape her attention until after her killing spree.

Christian flipped out when he heard gunfire, and even more so when a 5.56mm round splintered through a door he was in front of and hit him in the chest, right where a lung wouild have been.

"Bloody Hell, second time today.. hurts like a bitch."

He turned around, pissed off, and opened the doorway to a courtyard. Men with assault rifles and shotguns were shooting at every corner. He put his arms up in a sign of surrender.

"You ought to watch where you point those things. They really do hurt," he said as he opened his shirt up revealing a cleanly placed bullet hole that shot out to the other side. "I'll go, but seriously, watch where you're shooting! Jesus!"

One of the men came up to take Christian. As he neared, Christian reached out quickly, and seized his body in an arm throw. As he slammed him into the floor, he unholstered his pistol, and opened fire on the mercenaries.

"Rule number 1," he said popping off 2 rounds at the closest. "Never shoot me, especially on a bad day like this... ow! Bloody Hell! Number 2, you're not going, damn it, those hurt, to kill me with those anyways! Get your weapons and your, ow!, targets... ow! That wasn't nice! Sending them through the... ow! Head! I think two of you dead, one of you unconscious and me still standing would say enough!"

Christian emptied the clip on the man who put a second hole in his head, threw the gun at the mercenaries and turned around, obviously pissed off, and limping from the pain and 3 rounds in the hip, 2 in the leg, and uncountable numbers put in his torso. He wouldn't walk right for a week. How he wished he had Kevlar trenchcoats.

As he stumbled across, gunfire hitting him in his limbs, a cleanly placed shotgun blast removed his left arm from the elbow down. He looked down and swore viciously. This time he wouldn't bother. He hobbled back into the room he was in, and closed the door. He shambled overf as a few more rounds splintered the door, and he attempted to topple the table in the middle with his one arm.

The woman turned to watch the sudden display of...inasity? And it appeared as though the whole church were now falling apart around her. She followed the trenchcoated figure for a moment and watched as he took the shots. Well he'd be having a worse headache if I shot him was her only thought.

As he limped back she tossed him a set of keys. "Get the preist and Mr. Sam I am out the back door and down the street to the Tasty Freeze...Blue Forester...wait for me. And don't try to drive off...the security system needs my finger print to activate, I don't think you want to add crisped to todays damage."

She turned into the small courtyard between the church and the rectory and picked up one of the assult rifles laying on the ground. (OOC: I'm assuming that these boys were some that had filtered through the church where the demon is) She went out a small gate and found herself on a side street with one of the side walls of the church and the front of the rectory. She could make out the odd girl picking a fairly nasty fight. As well as something causing major damage in the church proper.

The woman assumed a crounched postion behind a wall buttress and wistled to the wolf woman, throwing her head to come in her direction.

OOC: based on the fact that eveyone is assulting the church and not the rectory...where sam and the bishop are...that you are making a frontal attack and the rectory is behind the church. If I'm in error I'll ammend it...

The demon's quick movement had caught Maximus by surprise, and his body slammed into the ground. Suddenly he noticed a pew hurtling downwards toward him and in response he simply used his quick jump back up onto his feet and redirected his feet to block and smash the pew from the demon's hands. A moment later, he was back on his feet.

Snarling and revealing his fangs greatly, Maximus's eyes began to darken in his already black eyes. He swung the sword at the demon again, not bothering to show mercy, as the blade sliced into the demon's outstreched arm.

<<Argonian, you're missing out on the fun.....>>

The smell of blood became strong in the air, as Maximus continued to try and force the demon to back down. Slowly he pushed the demon back into a corner as he tried to evade the dangerous blade of Glamdring as it sung through the air in its deadly dance.

Sierra was caught up in her own bloodlust and her eyes blazed a fiery gold. The whistle caught her attention however. Deciding that it might be a better idea than standing out here amidst all the firing, she sunk her fangs into throat of the smaller man she'd been working on and dragged him along as she ran on all fours. She lept behind what was left of the wall and crouched beside the woman.

"I hope you have a plan," she growled with a sneer, and dropped the merc in the process.

Inside she saw Christian in his retreat, and was somewhat shocked at his battle wound. That would have to wait.

"Yes, I do have a plan it is called 'tactical retreat'. We're so badly orginized that that creature in the chapel is going to tear us appart. Now did you have a plan for that or his he just leftovers you brought as a snack..." she points to the merc on the ground. "Now if you really want to help the cause you can take this out to their vehicle and strap it to the bottom." She holds out a gray stick with a small metal end and an anntena.
"I'm trying to send the rest back to my car down the street to evacuate..."

"You better not leave me here..."

Shifting back to the shepherd, she took the stick in her mouth and tore for the van.

The demon recoiled in pain as black fluid dripped from its wounded arm. The vampire it faced might have been able to finish it off right there, if not for the remaining mercs. The remaining 7 had entered the church, and found the vampire with his back turned, trying to back the demon into the corner. The mercs opened fire; even if they couldn't drop the creature, the distraction might be enough to turn the tide.

Seeing its opening, the massive warrior demon exploded out of the corner, raking the vamp's chest with his wounded left arm and launching a devestating punch aimed at its chest. The goal was to knock the enemy away or incapacitate him long enough that the demon could charge the back of the church and find its target, for it began to understand that it might be overmatched. The vamp was formidable, and the angelic being he sensed had not even entered the combat yet. After throwing the punch, the demon's powerful legs launched it across the church towards the back, where its target undoubtably was...

When the last of the remaining mercs ran inside, she shifted back and wriggled beneath the van. Withdrawing the stick from her mouth, wedged it up in the car's undercarriage where no one in their right mind would think to look. That accomplished, she wriggled free, and sprinted back to the church to seek out the other woman.

2x post

The woman stood with her automatic rifle at the ready and yelled at the returning girl-dog. "Grab you chew toy and let's get out of here...."

She walked backwards towards the rectory and Sam's location. Keeping her eyes on the back of the church and for anyone comming around to the side of the church from the front.

Sensing the demons behind him, Maximus jumped aside, missing most of the bullets aimed at him. The leader on the other hand, had struck out at him, and so this pushed him even farther out of the range of fire.

Several bullets buried themself into Maximus's torso and shoulder, missing vital organs. It didn't matter though, because the bullets would not kill him. They were made differently than those used to kill his specific breed of vampires...

Holding Glamdring up to deflect some more shots, not damaging the sword, he reached back with his other hand, and drew an Elven Dagger. With a grunt and a snarl upon his face, he threw the deadly dagger toward the back of the demon's head. Turning back toward the remaining demons, he moved with incredible speed, and was almost instantly upon them, slicing the throats and decapitating some, and for the others, he plunged the sword into their torsos, and yanked upwards...hard.

He muttered aloud to them, not caring if they heard him:

"You picked the wrong ammo boys..."

Blood spurted everywhere, as he moved about, covering him in the black blood of the demons. His eyes were afire, as he searched for the leader once again. He took off after him, wincing slightly from the pain of the bullets lodged in his torso. Already, the healing effects of his blood were working to eject the bullets and seal off the wounds. But he wouldn't be fully healed for a little while...

Grinning darkly, she bounded back to the church and followed the woman, on alert for the next target to foolishly present itself.

(Soundtrack: Unloco - Bruises)

OOC: The mercs were actually just humans, motivated by greed into doing Hell's dirty work. No demon in them (at least these ones) whatsoever. Not that it really matters, since they're out of the battle anyways...

IC: The three mercenaries who were still alive look to eachother, each thinking the same thing. They had fired on each of the three enemies with assault weapons, hitting each a number of times...none of their enemies were dead, or even seriously injured. And of the mercenary team, the rest lay dead and dying from brutal attacks. It was becoming clear to them that their employer had sent them to their doom, for he was very intelligent and well enough informed to suspect that their target would have been guarded by a much tougher enemy than they were capable of handling. It was very unlikely that these particular mercs would do Hell's work ever again. They dropped their weapons and took off running, 2 leaping out of the gaping hole the demon had made in the wall, and the other going for the church door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The demon took the dagger in the top of its right shoulder as it sailed through the air. It howled in rage as it landed, yanking the blade out and grabbing a wooden table an instant after. It threw the dagger back at the vampire, and threw the table right after, hoping that the attack would disable its foe or at least slow him up. The monster then smashed its way into the rectory, gnashing its tusks and letting out a terrible war cry, believing its goal to be in reach...

Izual picked Sam up again, he could almost laugh at the situation if he couldn't sense the presence of the massive demon charging toward his position. He moved backwards, ready to leave through a back door if things got dangerous for Sam.

The demon burst through the door, howling as it gazed upon Izual and Sam. The angel's eyes glowed a deep blue as he unleashed an angelic barrier whilst he sprinted out the back door. He must get Sam to safety before he could battle the demon.

Coming across the two women, Izual eyed them carefully. He wasn't quite sure if he could trust them, but since he was the only angelic presence involved, they would have to do.

"Look after him. I'll take care of the demon."

OOC: Not entirely sure how an "angelic barrier" works, so I'll just assume it repels the demon's advances for a short time or until it sustains too much damage.

IC: The demon sprang at the angel, driven by a fierce thirst for blood now that it's ancient enemy was in sight. To its shock, it slammed into a barrier in mid-air, toppling back onto its haunches. Roaring in rage and frustration, the demon pounded its fists into the barrier, throwing powerful blows at a rapid pace.

The demon felt the barrier buckle under its fists, and barreled through the back door in pursuit of the angel. The demon was nearly trembling with rage by this point, and sprang through the air at the angel, ignoring Sam for the moment. The warrior demon was loyal for the most part, but the base hatred for the servants of Heaven overpowered even Neras' orders to capture Sam, at least for the moment. The big projectile from Hell soared towards Izual at startling speeds, hard fists and deadly claws drawn back to strike...

OOC: You presumed correctly.

IC: Izual's trench coast burst off as hs shifted into his angelic form. His wings spread out and a strong blue aura surrounded him. A sword formed of pure angelic energy formed within his right hand, the white flames helped to further light up the area.

His dark hair flowed in the currents created by his raising of power and his flawless angelic skin reflected the moonlight. After many years as a angel and even longer as a demon, Izual was quite a skilled combatant. His golden armour flowed over his torso whilst his wings folded back.

Izual moved to the left in a blur of colour as he dodged the attack by the demon and raised his sword, ready unleash the wrath of the heavens.

Sam wandered into the dream land once again, back to the catacomb.. back to the demon.

He stood there, face to face with a demon from hell.
The demon raised its arms into the air as if it was about to crush the victim beneath him, but instead his hands started to glow in a red light and he moved the arms in a circle.
All the other lights in the room whent out and the shadows from the red light danced in the dark.
The demon opened his mouth and spoke.

"Oh ye, the unborn, the undead, the one. Join us!

Sam couldnt figure out what he was suposed to do, so he stood there understanding nothing.

"You wont.. kill me?"

The demon shook his head and brought the light from his hands infront of Sam.

Join the underworld, and take your rightfull place as the ruler of hell!. This is what you was born to do. Oh ye, the unborn, the undead, the one. Join us!

Sam shook his head, to rule hell?.. impossible.. he couldnt have been born to rule the underworld..

The demon felt Sams thoughts and smiled, and with a might voice the seemed to echoe into eternety it said.

"Better to rule in hell, than to serve in heaven! OH YE, THE UNBORN, THE UNDEAD, THE ONE. JOIN US!"

The demon continued his chanting, and all the other creatures beside him joined in. The pillar of lights shined like never before and the huge catacomb burst into a massive sound.
A sound of the undead preching to its future leader.. or was it?

Sam on the other hand, he had no wishes to rule any hell.. what so ever.
In his mind, Sam was just another human being, and as any other human being, human beings had strange dreams that wasnt connected to reality.

He opened his eyes.

Laying on the ground, he looked up at the stars, the dark sky with all those beutifull stars.

Where was he?.. who was he?
Sam had a slight feeling that he had asked these questions before, though, he couldnt figure out the answer.

Sam turned his head, he could remember the dream he just had. He could remember the demon from hell that wished that he should join them and rule them.

To his suprice, the demon stood there, fighting with an.. angel..
how odd he thought.
He guessed that he still was in his dream, and had not awaken. Though, he had no idea who he was, or what he was doing here.

"Mr.Demon" he said.. "I have to decline your offer"
He then turned his head back, looking at the stars. He awaited his awakening. It couldnt take that long could it?
Since demons dont exist in reality.. do they?

do they?

The demon howled as Izual's blade of holy energy slashed its vile flesh. Not only did the blade cut, but it seared the demonic flesh as well, the holy energy to the demon like fire to a man.

Neras' servant recovered to launch its counterattack, swatting at the angels arm in an attempt to disarm him of the deadly blade, and then swinging a leg up to rake at his face with its clawed feet.

Maximus laughed at the frantic efforts of the demon to get away from him. Moving with speed and accuracy, he simultaneously snatched the dagger by the blade, and ducked the hurtling table. It crashed heavily behind him, smashing into the organ piano, which in response played an erratic moan of sounds which echoed throughout the church and heard outside.

Getting up, he ran forward once again, sheathing the Dagger, and brandishing Glamdring. He leapt over a few fallen pews, and into the rectory. He got there in time to see the demon destroy some sort of magical shield, and disappear out the back door. Growling he followed, and soon came upon the demon.

Using the speed natural for a vampire, he drew both daggers and threw them accurately at the demon, plunging both blades in the demon's legs, burying themselves deeply, the tips protruding out the front side. Maximus jumped forward in a complete forward flip and landed behind the demon. In front of him, stood the angel, who looked at him somewhat puzzled, trying to figure out why a vampire was helping the good guys.

Maximus only grinned in response, baring his teeth slightly, as he held the demon's head back with one hand, and had the sword ready to slice the demon's throat. Looking up at the angel before him, he questioned, with confidence in his voice:

"Well? Mercy or kill?

The demon would not surrender. It was bred to serve as a soldier, to kill. And to die. Even its weak mind knew well that the tortures it would be subjected to for surrendering were far worse a fate than death in battle.

The demon growled a curse in its unholy tongue, taking advantage of the vampire's overconfidence in its apparent victory. It shoved the sword away from its throat, and surged forward in one last, desperate maneuver. It clamped its powerful jaws onto the vampire's abdomen, and its great tusks tore into flesh. It shook its violently, attempting to tear its enemies innards out. With its free hands, it frantically clawed and pounded on its foe, and would do so relentlessly until its enemy was clearly dead or the demon itself was. It was likely that this attack would be its last; it had only its tail free to ward off sword blows from the vampire (assuming he was still able to swing his blade), as well as the angel it had been engaging. The demon was wounded in several places and outnumbered. Yes, it would die, but not without a fight.

OOC: Hope you don't mind, but I think this is a great time to kill off the demon...but Maximus isn't gonna be too happy himself...

IC:
The surprise attack caught Maximus off guard, and in a moment, he could feel the demon attempting to severely gore him. Maximus grunted under the force of the pressure, as one hand fought to hold the demon's head back from doing any more damage. His other hand still stubbornly clutched the sword as it swung about wildly from the goring.

With a scream of rage and pain, Maximus brought his blade directly downward, plunging the sword into the demon's head. The movement continued for another moment, then stopped instantly. Kicking the demon off him, which crashed to the ground, he stumbled backwards, and collapsed to the ground. The demon had done a lot of damage to his body, and he looked upward at the angel, who had done nothing.

His mind thought of the young man, Sam, of whom he had been protecting.

"Help me..." he moaned, as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. He hoped the angel would take pity.

The demon's corpse lay nearby, it's face caught in a look of shock as the blade passed bloodily through the cranial cavity, through the upper mouth, and lower mouth and out the head, just behind the chin.

OOC: Don't mind at all, that's what I was building up to.

IC: The demon's powerful muscles spasmed as the sword stabbed into its skull, spraying black ichor onto the demon's corpse, the ground, and on Maximus. Still it hung off of Maximus like a sack of potatoes, jaw locked like a gila monster. The vampire booted the demon, and its jaw came free, taking a lot of blood and a portion of meat with it.

The demon's corpse slowly began to break down, as if melting. After several minutes, all that remained was a large pool of vile black fluids.

* * * * * * * *

A short distance above the church, two demonic scouts monitored as much of the encounter as they could from the air. They needed to keep some distance between the enemies in the church to avoid their detection and destruction, and so they had been unable to enter the church itself and witness that portion of the battle. But, there was a way for their master to fill in some of that missing information from the battle. 3 mercs had survived, and would have witnessed part of the battle in the church before they fled. The scouts mentally transferred this information back to Neras, who ordered the three merc deserters captured and brought to him. He would learn from them as much about the enemy as he could. And then, he would have not further use for them. Neras grinned wickedly at that thought, and waited eagerly for the mercs to be brought in...

Hearing him speak, Sierra glanced back at Sam, then to the woman.

"He's awake."

Blood-streaked, she crouched beside him, and attempted to help him up as the large demon was slain nearby.

"Sam, work with me here, we need to go."

The woman was impressed by the killing of the demon. "Well, It is nice to have someone who comes prepared for this kind of thing." She looks at the damage...

"Alright, I'd say our defensive postion is about screwed considering we have a demon built highway into here. Now then, there are seven of us and only six seats in my Forester. Who wants to borrow the parish car and follow the rest of us?"

OOC: I would have posted last night, but the forums buggered up.

IC: Izual looked down at the mauled vampire. He was badly injured, blood and tissue seeped out of his body. He had rarely seen one such as this, a noble vampire. He wasn't a conven fledgeling, that was obvious.

Dispatching of his sword, Izual moved toward the injured vamp and layed his hands over him. His angelic form illuminated the gore upon the ground.

"Fear not, I shall restore you for your deeds."

A golden light stretched out of his hands, engulfing Maximus in the holy light. The energy reknitted torn sinew, and prevented the vamp from losing any further blood.

"You will survive vampire"

Before Maximus could respond, Izual spun around and approached Sam again.

A warm sensation filled Maximus as the angel healed his wounds to a point where Maximus would no longer be in danger of dying. A golden light engulfed his body as he closed his eyes, savoring in the warm embrace of the healing spell. He was sad to see it depart him after only a short while.

Gasping, he clutched his stomach, wich now was healed with only several major indentations in his skin. His own vampiric abilities of healing would take care of those in a short time, and finish the healing process soon.

He got to his feet, slightly unsteady. He walked over to the blood pool that now remained of the demon, and picked up his sword, cleaned it, and sheathed it. Looking back at the others he spoke:

"I know you may not trust me, but I feel compelled to assist in protecting you. I do not know why you are such hot bait, but I have never liked the fact that there is evil that runs unchecked upon this world. Thus, I shall continue to fight against them. If you would not mind, I would like to join your party, as an ally and hopefully a friend. Think about it, having a vampire on your side; especially one that is well experienced in combat and in the immortal; can be a benefit to you.

The choice is yours, it does not matter to me whichever you choose."

Izual was indifferent. As long as the vampire was not a threat to Sam, he was not concerned. In a quick flash of blue light, Izual was once again in his human form, trench coat and all.

"You may join us if you wish for you have proven your worth. My only concern is the protection of Sam."

Christian rested in a room he had retreated into. He was now cradling his torn off arm as he rested behind a desk. To his relief, the gunfire outside ceased, and somewhere off in the church, a loud thump was heard. Most of the windows were shattered out from the gunfire that had sprayed into the room from the assault, and the outside world was visible. Some of his comrades, and a few new faces, all gathered outside talking peacable. He stood up, yelping.

He was about to fling open the door, but it simply fell off it's hinges. Surveying the carnage around him left no impressions. It wasn't nearly as chilling as his kindergarten feeding frenzy several years ago.

"Well, all is good and well, but you best not have a handicapped person on you. Likelihood is more are out there. I'd be best staying here," he said, shaking his arm around like it was a rag. "I'll just slow you down. Besides, they were humans with assault rifles. They can't kill me with those," he said glancing at the woman who threatened her earlier.

He wandered around a bit. His arm was spitting out a bit of blood in tiny spurts. He looked at it, amazed at how much could come out of one limb.

"Either that, or we could sow that back on," he said, jerking his good thumb on a loose arm on the ground.

OOC: Oh, and, I'll be gone for the rest of today, Saturday, and Sunday.

A fierce hiss echoed through the church's vaulted ceilings, and a pair of dead mercenaires dropped from the rafters, their flesh cut and torn in countless places... one lacked a head. Blood dripped down from the ceiling a drop at a time, from an unseen source...

OOC: I seem to have missed a bit of fun, due to my rather shitty AOL ISP.

Any of the supernatural beings around the church became suddenly aware of a very powerful aura drawing near, and growing stronger by the second. However it wasn't an unholy aura like the demon had projected; it was quite the opposite, and much stronger. It could be compared to a drug, filling their minds with thoughts of peace, love, justice, and countless other feelings and concepts associated with Heaven. The assembled beings found their weariness from battle dissipating, and to their shock, their cuts and bruises begain to rapidly heal, glowing with a faint blue energy. The holy aura reached it's crescendo, and anti-climatically, a man in a trench coat walked out of the shadows towards them. He raised his head as he approached, revealing an aged yet noble face that had been hidden beneath the shadows of his wide brimmed hat. His bright blue eyes sparkled and his lips curled in a friendly smile beneath his beard of white.

"You were expecting something...grander?" he said in a deep, gentle voice full of mirth.

The archangel Luthien had come amongst them.

* * * * * * * * * *

Neras smiled as his servants brought in the three surviving mercenaries. They were stripped of their gear, their feet shackled to the floor, and arms tied together above their heads and anchored to the ceiling. They were capable of doing nothing but squirming. Neras chuckled to himself as he approached, for he could smell their fear, and it was intoxicating.

"Tell me everything," he purred, fingering a wickedly hooked blade.

And the mercenaries did. Wide-eyed with fear, they told the mighty demon everything they had seen during the battle, and everything they noticed of their enemies.

"Ahh," the demon snickered. "So it seems that our dear little Sam has encountered, by chance, a very motley crew of would-be guardians. Not one, but two vampires! Not to mention the treacherous demon-wench, a human woman, and the angel that the scouts sighted."

Neras paced back and forth thinking to himself.

"Clearly you were overmatched," he said sympathetically, addressing the mercenaries. "I did not prepare you for such enemies, and it is no fault of yours that you failed."

The mercenaries let out a collective sigh of relief.

"But..." Neras continued, eyes full of malice and with evil in his voice, "there's one thing I almost forgot. Ahh, yes! The part of our agreement where I was assured that your team would complete the task or die trying. I warned you to complete your task, or not bother coming back. And to top it off, you tried to not only flee the battle, but intended to betray your contract all together!"

Neras seemed to grow larger and larger as he ranted, and his voice less and less human. His eyes were blazing red by that point, and his teeth were seeminly growing more and more resemblant to fangs.

"Perhaps you men need to be shown why my servants obey me!" he roared, with no humanity left in his voice at all. "NOW YOU WILL SEE THE TERRIBLE PRICE OF FAILING NERAS!"

Neras' body had become huge by this point, and his body and features no longer resembled anything human. The agents who had brought the mercs in quickly left the room, shutting the door behind them. They were cold-hearted, soulless men and fanatical servants of Hell, but even they did not care to witness the scene that would follow. Unearthly roars and demonic curses intermingled with blood curdling screams and death rattles as the greater demon fed his bloodlust at the expense of the poor mercenaries who had dared to save themselves, and anyone listening couldn't help but shudder. Woe to any that angered Neras...and woe to the one who had to clean up the mess afterwards!

Izual smiled at the coming sense of peace. Reinforcements had arrived. Stepping forward to greet the man in the trenchcoat, Izual bowed.

"It is good to see you my friend. As you can see, demonkind have already attempted to capture Sam. We must get him to a safe location."

A holy aura filled the air around Maximus, to which effect began to finish the healing of his wounds for him, faster than his own blood could have done it. He turned and looked at the approaching figure, an old looking man.

Maximus knew better, this one was important for sure. Perhaps a high ranking angel in the armies of God. The vampire part of Maximus urged to get away, but his strong will and dominance of good heart stayed that urge.

Maximus watched intently as the figure approached. He glanced back at Sam to see he was all right, before turning his attention to the arrival.

Whiptail chose this moment to show himself, dropping from the rafters beside his kills. In each hand he held a longrifle, once belonging to the late mercenaries. His clawed hands where coated with blood, as if he had killed the men with an edged weapon at close range.

Whiptail dropped the rifles, making his way to the nearest alter to ask for forgiveness of his most recent sin...

The woman just looks around. "Alright we know have two angles, what appears to be two vampires. And some girl-dog creature. "Now leadership seems to be in need here. And the first obvious decision is to get the hell out of here since we now have a wonderful demon made expressway strait to...whoever the hell this is." She points at Sam with a glint in her eyes. "Now, I personally am going to take our bouncing boy to somewhere safer. If you want to come along, fine. If not don't..." She picks up Sam and throws him over her shoulder. "You know this boy is heavy...good thing I keep in shape."

In a moment she was strolling out the hole, around the hall and down the street. She pulled a set of keys from a pocket and walked up towards a inconspicous looking Forester.

Whiptail rose...

"I would wait untill the others have had their say. Decisions made without careful consideration lead to un-thought of consequences..."

His golden glare is locked upon the mysterious woman, wisdom gleams within the seemingly endless pools of molten gold. The slit-pupils contract to compensate for the brighter light...

The woman opened the hatchback and placed Sam down inside. Apparently this need had been thought of as the back appeared to be customized such that some one could be laid, if not full flat, comfortably in the back.

As she did so she spoke, "Ah the man with the voice comes out of hidding. You are correct, it would be best to let the other's have their say but..." She turns, sitting down on the bumper and looking at the figure. She pauses for a second as she contemplates the creature before her then nods.
"....in this situation endless debate and heisident action may be as great a danger as foolishly running off. I propose to do neither Dark Argonian. Here I sit, waiting for someone to propose another action or agree with mine. At the same time I am forcing them to move. They were becoming stagnant, like balls that have found the lowest point on a surface, they begin to slow and stop until somthing perturbs their movement again." Her finger indicates some of the obvious damage done by the demon on the holy complex. "Now that the purturbing force has been removed, the balls shall once again graviate around their goal and sit quietly. Unless I move their goal and get their momentum up again."
She indicates the goal is Sam, who is not in a postion to be moving much himself.
"So I have not disregarded what others would say, I just wish to accelerate the discussion." She gives the reptilian creature a bright smile..."Would you think someone who is pledged to do the work of Athena here on earth be completely self centered enough to think she had all the answers, or even the right answer. And tactically I'm happier sitting on my moblie armory than in a shattered fortress..."

Whiptail considers the analogy...

"I would think that same analogy would apply to your 'armory' and yourself. Perhaps you should ask Sam about your next move."

Whiptail remains standing, his legs somewhat cramped after kneeling in the rafters for so long...

Izual agreed that Sam needed to be moved before more demon were to arrive. But, he was skeptical of this woman and her motives. She semmed innocent enough, but it was in his training to be suspiscious of anyone he did not know or was not an angelic. Looking to his colleague, Izual spoke.

"What do you think should be done?"

The woman just smiles at the angel who has spoken...
"Yes, I agree...and when he is actually consious we can..."

OOC: Based on my memory said Sam character had sort of dazed out at the moment and only seeing things. Or basicly in a somewhat altered state such that he'd likely be considered a shell shock victim. But that was my reading of Danneland's last post...which have sort of shown him to be in a very poor state....
If I'm in error then I appoligize...and I'll change the posts....

A low-riding '69 Impala with the license plate number 'P1MP1N' rolls up to the church... out steps a movie-star handsome man, 6'0" with a toned, muscular physique. He's dressed lavishly, with a silk-lined trenchcoat, black fatigue pants, combat boots, a tight-fitting black T-shirt that displays a set of cut abdominals, and a set of strange-looking fingerless tactical golves.

A set of six large handguns glimmer from under the trenchcoat, the platinum plating catching any light directed its way. Behind him, the large rims on the bright silver Impala contine to spin, and the car settles down on a set of hydraulic lifts. His emerald gaze drifts first to the man in the trunk of the car, then to the others in front of the church, to the church itself, finally resting on Whiptail...

"Figured your ass would be here... What the f**k happened?"

OOC: Figured this thread need a hardcore sinner to complement the ranks of myths and misfits. Whiptail already knows him, and the angels should be pleased to see someone of his type appear at the church... :lol:

The archangel stroked his chin as Izual spoke to him.

"Well we certainly can't stay here," he said. "The enemy knows where we are, and though he is unlikely to have another force ready to strike so quickly, we cannot rule out the possibility."

Sirens could be heard in the distance, and growing louder with every moment. No doubt someone had called the cops with all the racket going on at the church...

"Not to mention that we don't want to have to explain all of this to the city police," he continued. "For the time being, I have no objections to hiding out at this armory, at least until we straighten everything out."

Luthien whirled around as he sensed the car drive up, eyes blazing with energy which quickly dimmed as he assessed the man to be non-hostile.

"And just who are you?" the disguised angel asked.

Whiptail shook his head in disgust...

"Why are you here? I asked your brother to aid me, not you..."

Whiptail asks, knowing the answer to his own question before asking it...

'He's busy... I came instead...'

Whiptail knew Dekker was never too busy to help him, it meant that Jack was bored and happened to get the message first. It did not matter, Jack was a better shot anyway, if a lot more grating on Whiptail's nerves...

OOC: Izual would have heard the thing before it was within three blocks. Jack typically has Snoop Dogg's 'Gin and Juice' blaring out of the windows. I'm surprised MS didn't include that. I also believe that his comment about the angels being happy to see him was a sarcastic comment. From past RP's, I have seen that Jack is a womanizer and so-called Pimp.

The woman in grey just raised an eyebrow at the new arrival...
Why in the hell would you have your gun be made of something so reflective that better gives away your postion? was her only thought.

Izual nodded.

"That seems wise."

Turning to the woman with Sam in her boot, Izual nodded again.

"It seems we are agreed. We should leave quickly."

The angel paid little attention the new arrival, as long as he was not a threat, he was of little concern.

Maximus nodded and mimicked a British accent:

"Right...off we go then!"

He followed the others, while wiping some of the blood off.

OOC: Sam is quite awake, though.. he thinks this is just a dream.
And well, I must point out that besides Sam, there is another thing that is quite important not to forget. And that is his book.
The camera is hanging around his neck and the photos in his pocket. But the book is still in the church.

IC:

Sam looked up from the trunk, quite a plesant trunk. He knew now that this must be a dream since there are no plesant trunks. All trunks are unfomfortable. This on the other hand, well this one he could stay a while in.
He cleared his throat.
"Excuse me miss? mr?..erm.. whatever you call yourselfe"
Sam adressed all of them.
"This is a very nice dream, nice effects and costumes and all. The demon is very well made, and the lizzard man.. oh my.. good one. Though, Im afraid I'l be waking up soon. I'l just go back to sleep in this dream and I'l be back in reality in a moment. Just to let you know"

He then wondered why he said this to people or beings that was in his dream, since they were in his dream they would be inside his head and therefore they...

Sam turned his head towards the group of various creatures..
"This isnt a dream.. is it? And that demon isnt just some imagination from my mind. and me?.. Im not just..just"
He couldnt remember his name, nor anything else for that matter.
The last thing he could remember was his mothers funeral..his fathers..

Sam closed and opend his eyes..
"My god.." his heart began to pound faster, his mind spinned around.
"Who..am..I?"

He looked at the group..

OOC: I Misunderstood, but considering how much fainting and unconsiousness he has suffered in this thread my character would naturally worry about him...And I thought Izurl had picked up the notebook. Also the Forester is an SUV so he isn't in a "trunk" just the back of the cargo/passenger compartment.

"Ah you are somewhat cohearent. You can call me Andrea. Let's just say that you appear to have taken a nasty fall, and apparently have a concusion and temporary amnesia. Which would explain why your a bit confused if this is a dream or reality. You just gave yourself a nasty bump on the head. Now we are going to take you somewhere that any demons are going to have trouble if they come around again..."

She turns to the others..."Alright, who is the guy. Everyone seems to want him but he appears very badly messed up. I seem to have agreement on that, but I'm getting worried about him. Luckly, we do have a few favors that I can call upon."

She returns to Sam. "Hey guy, I'm going to take you to a nice little medical facility that my...sisters own. So you just stay here and we'll get you right to them." She sends the back down the hatchback and looks at everyone again.

"Alright, have we forgotten anything people? Like say the wounded vampire? And could you try not to be too conspiquos people, were going to be in Clairmont not Hollywood.

((I wasn't sure if we were in L.A. or not but decided we were. So I just refrenced someplace out of the way but easily accesseble.))

OOC: I'm back.. and noticing everyone has a trenchcoat!!! Trenchies for everyone!

IC: "Si, kapitana, but I think I'll be okay without my arm. Give it a few hours and I'll learn to use a stub like another finger," Christian coughed out. "Give it a few days as well, and the limb will regenerate. I'm just fortunate enough for that. Not going to be a pretty sight... or sound... either. I'm not all just the typical blood-sack."

He wandered over slightly, whistling a tune, to the new pimp-like figure that had arrived.

"You look inexperienced. What good are you in a pinch?"

Izual nodded as he patted the book within his trenchcoat.

"We are ready to depart."

Shifting back to the german shepherd form, she padded to the woman's car, pausing only to sniff at the new arrival. Dismissing him as non-hostile, she hopped up in the trunk with Sam, and curled up beside him with her front paws across his torso. He might feel better with something as harmless as a dog, and this way, another passenger could be accomidated since she didn't need a seat.

"Alright...Everybody in... And you can follow me, just avoid making too much of a disturbance. " She slides into the driver seat.

Christian cocked his head at Sierra, and then at the woman in the driver's seat. A wave of panic overran him.

"I'm not going in there. It'll be disastrous if I come along. You all go. I'll steal a car and catch up with you later. Give me 3 hours at tops. If not, consider me dead.

Christian turned and ran for a nearby car. His arm had reduced from a sharp stab to a dull. He would probably have it back by dawn tomorrow. Some like him were fortunate to shapeshift, some to be deep-sea divers, but all he got to do was spurt a new limb from a stub after a few hours. What a ripoff he had originally thought. He never thought he'd ever need it.

(OOC: I found this whole long cultist article on 'Vampire Abilities'! So don't think I'm pulling this stuff out of my ass. Damn cultists!)

Ignoring the deep pain, he slammed his stubby wrist into a window of a black vehicle, maybe a Mercedes. The window shattered and a car alarm went off.

Maximus held his hand on the top of the hilt of his sword as he eyed the pimping arrival. After a moment, he was satisfied that this one did not present any danger, especially since the Argonian had started talking to him. He turned and got into front passenger seat, and nodded silently to the driver. It had been a while since he had been in a vehicle, and the starting of the engine felt weird, but soon he had gotten over it. In his side mirror he kept his eye on the other vampire, Christian, as he was breaking into the third car.

And so, we move from battlefield to battlefield...

She looked at the man sitting next to her..."Why the hell didn't he just borrow the parish stationwagon...If I recall correctly, that class of Mercedes is only available as a stick shift..."

Maximus looked back at the woman talking to him.

"Stick-shifts are not to be disregarded, they have their advantages. Now, let's go, before we get any more unwelcome visitors."

Maximus glanced back into the mirror and saw that Christian was now in the car, and had just started the engine.

"Looks like everyone's ready to go."

Sam looked with big eyes at the shepard who jumped in beside him in the trunk, not only had the shepard been a female just before, but it touched him.
He was rather traumatized, Sam couldnt quite understand what all this was, his heart pounded faster. His mind spinned around again, trying to comperhend all this.

"WHO AM I?!"

Sam screamed out, desperate to get an answer, some answer.. any answer.
He began to cry, the inocent cry of a baby who cannot understand why all this horrible had happend to him.

The tears of innocense, he shook his head. It was all confusing, he couldnt figure out who he was, where he was or who all ther other people were.

His name.. the one thing that he instantly knew was very important for anyone.. he had no name.. not in his mind anyhows.

Sam closed his eyes, at the moment he did so the demons from his dreams were back. Chanting, screaming that he should join them.

"no.. never.."

He crawled up in the corner of the trunk.

"Im so afraid"

Izual nodded.

"I shall follow from the sky."

With that, he launched off into the air, his angelic wings slipping out thin slits in the back of his trenchcoat. Too high for any to notice him, he would follow by sensing the presence of the occupants.

Whining softly, she nudged him with her nose, trying to be as comforting as possible. Anyone could see he was scared half to death and terribly confused. But he could only be calmed if he wanted to, so she laid on her belly and gazed up at him with obvious concern.

She just shook her head and slipped up a gear, hitting a major road and then turning onto the 610 heading north. She didn't say much of anything except "take a sip of water and you'll feel better."

The young man's voice shattered the silence inside the vehicle.

"WHO AM I?" he cried out.

Maximus turned and faced the young man who had crawled into the corner of the bed of the truck.

"You name, Sam. You're here because you are being hunted. We are protecting you. There are those that wish you dead, for some unknown reason. You possess something that either they want, or they fear. That is all I know for now."

Maximus turned back around and watched the scenery pass by the truck.

"His name is Sam?" She asked as she navigated the early morning traffic in the interchange between the 610 and the 210. They found themselves crawling past a construction site that had men attempting to finish their work before the rush hour began.

It had been maybe 20 minutes since Christian had backed out of the parking lot and the other cars had vaded from sight, but his course wasn't to follow them. He was rounding the streets of LA looking for a familiar shop. 5 more minutes of driving brought him to it: "Burt's Guns, Rifles, & Other Hunting Equipment". Christian slowed down and put his good arm on the stick-shift, putting the car in park. It had been a hard drive, but one arm was all that's ever needed.

He got out into the crisp air and shuddered. The place was familiar. As he started walking forward, he ceased again. He was in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. From upstairs, there was screaming and frantic talking. Maybe after a minute, a hideous crack like a gunshot or a spinal column snapping ten times as loud as it should have been. He looked around, and on the side of the wall there was a stairway leading up to a catwalk which crossed the whole breadth of the structure. It was linked to the nearby warehouses, or at least that was the most likely case. He started to climb up, until he came to the end of the walkway. It opened into another warehouse, and down on the main loading deck, two men were dead on the floor. A third thing, what looked like an animated shadow with piercing red eyes looked down on them. His instinct told him to run, and as his world shifted, he burst into the gunshop, pale and sickly looking. The clerk stared at him.

Gathering his cool, Christian walked up to the main counter.

"I'm going to need the heaviest firearms you have."

"Do you have a license?" He inquired in a thick Russian accent.

"No."

"You'll need one. Take this application, mail it off, and in a week, you'll be able to own a gun."

"You don't seem to understand. I need these guns now and it's not a matter for you to question me. I need these guns."

"I can't sell them to you, sir," the man said sternly. "Now please, fill out an application and you can get them in a week, otherwise piss off."

Christian put his hands flat on the counter, and jumped up so he was standing on the glass case. His boots were squeaking softly on the polished surface. He took a step forward. The clerk pulled a gun out from under the counter, and aimed it at Christian's head.

Christian jumped down, and grabbed his arm, twisting the gun out and breaking his wrist. He clubbed the man on the other side of the head with his severed left. He yelped and fell to the floor. Christian kneeled down, putting his knee in the center of his back. He opened his mouth and bit hard on the neck, feeling more warm and invigorating blood rushing in than out. After a minute, he looked up. The shop was entirely empty, and numerous guns were everywhere. He stood up and looked around.

The shop had everything someone could ever imagine: Remingtons, Winchesters, Glocks, H&K, anything that would excite the typical gunman could be found. Nothing caught his interest, though. He had been here before. He rounded the sales desk and headed into the back, the 'warehouse' of the shop. Boxes were piled everywhere. On the wall, there was a door that led into the basement. He walked over and flung it open.

On the way down, he jumped the third step. He remembered this place from 1983 when he came and bought an AK-47 assault rifle here from the Russian mafia, high in their business prime back then. They had long since stopped using this shop as a holding place for their weapons, but they never did bother to recover them. It would appear too suspicious if a bunch of Russian men emerged holding AK's from a gunshop owned by the Russian mafia.

Several boxes were piled on the wall. Christian smiled wickedly. He popped one open. 7.62mm ammo was piled up, loaded into clips. Another box lay next to it. He tried to open it, but it was stuck. Biting his lip, he strained with it until the lid popped off. Sitting inside were about 4 AK-47's equipped with carrying straps, firepower they would need. He strapped them around his neck, and started to head back up the stairs.

With the woman's car lacking room for everyone, Luthien opted to take the sky as well. Just as he prepared to return to his normal angelic form, he sensed something overhead. The archangel's eyes instantly shot skyward, and he saw the small demonic scout that had remained hidden.

Can't have you following us, now can we? the archangel thought to himself. The scout attempted to flee, but it was too late. A bolt of blue energy sprang forth from Luthien's palm, blasting the scout from the sky. Much better.

The archangel's human disguise melted away, and Luthien soared away into the night sky, tracking the woman's car from above.

"You look inexperienced. What good are you in a pinch?"

OOC: I'd suggest reading Jack Bray's character profile in Dregruk's Character Profile Thread. Both his skills and the reason for the trenchcoat are explained there. Whiptail's in also on display in that thread.

IC:

Whiptail rode with Jack in the Impala, following behind the SUV. Whiptail and Jack where locked in an epic battle over control of the radio volume knob...

OOC: Gotcha.

IC: Christian ran upstairs, cradling the AK's in his arms. Outside a greasy window, several sirens were flashing. Christian swore a bit, and cracked open the door to the main shop. Several cops were examining the body. On instinct, Christian put the AK's down behind the door, and flung it open. The cops looked up. Christian pretended to be shocked and worried.

"Oh my God, what happened here?" He inquired with wonderful false concern.

"Who are you, kid?"

"I work here. I was in the warehouse clearing it out, and now I'm here, and what happened? Jesus? Where's the boss?"

"Your boss is dead. Two puncture wounds to the neck, and he's missing a lot of blood. You know anything about it?"

"None. Great. I have things I have to do tonight, and my manager just dies. Fucking great! Listen, I really need to get going. Can I give you my phone number and contact information?"

"We would like to question you, but presumably it's alright. What's so important that you have to leave?"

"My sister is sick in the hospital, and I was going to visit her. She's dying of cancer. Here... you can contact me at 845-3377. My name's Anthony Jackson. Alright... listen, call me when you get an update. If you'll excuse me..."

He pushed his way through as the thougths of "wow, that was too easy," pushed through his mind. Cops in LA weren't very intelligent nowdays. 2 years of college and the capability to operate a gun were all that was needed. The only problem was Christian couldn't keep the firepower, and when the cops found out that it was a fake name and the phone number to Pizza Hut, he'd be in deep shit. He headed over to the black Mercedes and stepped in. He slammed the keys in the ignition, and drove away as quickly as he could without making tires squeal. The last thing he needed was cops, especially considering the one was making notes on his appearance.

Whatever... it could be worse, couldn't it?

Whiptail and Jack follow in the Impala...

'What good are you in a pinch?'

It had been all Jack could do to avoid blowing a hole the size of south central in his punk-bitch ass. Jack was the son of near-legendary gunfighter Samuel T. Bray, and he'd inherited his father's knack for handgun marksmanship. He preferred a set of six matched AMT M1911A2 Superballers, basically oversized Hardballers chambered for the more powerful .48 Magnum AMT round, as opposed to the .45 ACP round. A similar matched set of Hardballers sat in the trunk, stainless steel plated as opposed to platinum. Jack also kept a .40 USP on his person at all times, a backup for when his Superballers ran dry.

Besides gunslinging, Jack was a skilled Jeet Kune Do fighter, as well as multilingual, due to his extensive work with the organized crime syndicates in LA. Jack had grown up in the area, having moved from Hazard, Kentucky when he was three with his father. Sam Bray was killed in a cartel ambush shortly afterwards. Jack grew up with he current leaders of the gangs, learning various martial arts from the Triad and the Russian mob. He'd learned to box from a young age from the Hood Folk, spending a few years at the top of the South Central boxing charts...

The Suburu started moving again as the lost tourists finally stopped trying to ask a construction worker "Which way to Disney". Amanda hadn't said much just let her eyes roll into the back of her head. The car finally entered the 210 heading east. The ride wasn't that long but the car went up into the foot hills before making an exit onto old route 66 and Clarmont.

A few blocks later the car turned into what appeared to be a residential street. However, a large parking deck had been inserted. It was gated with a sign that read "Harvey Mudd Faculty Only.." From a compartment in the dash she pulled a small, white plastic card with only a line of magnetic bar on it and inserted into the gate control. The gate openned and she pulled into an open parking spot in the partially underground level. At this hour in the morning there were several open parking spots on the street.

Izual continued to follow from the sky, tracking the car by the presence of the occupants. Finally descending to a lower altitude, the angel noticed the car move into the parking lot.

Moving toward the ground, Izual resumed his human form and landed with a light tap. He moved quickly towards the parked car.

Christian drove around senselessly for maybe 10 minutes before reality took a hard blow on him: he had no clue where he was going, no clue where he should go, or what should be done about this. As he pulled up to a red-light, he started to curse. He remembered something vaguely about the way the car departed... it left heading north on a highway, and the girl driving said something about a medical institute. Vague, but enough to run on. He had no clue what highway to head on, but there were numerous ones to head onto.

He pushed down on the pedal again and rolled along, listening to the music permeating the car from the radio. It was playing The Hate In Me, a rather appropriate song for the present situation. Christian was pissed off from his missing arm and that the cops would be after him soon.

The Impala followed, the Bose speaker system now playing 'P-I-M-P' as done by Snoop Dogg and Fifty Cent...

Amanda got out of the car and walked to the back. She opened it up and helped Sam stand. "Now then, don't worry we're just going in the back way to a nice hospital."

She looked at the dog and said..."No pets, so change back if you would..."

She led Sam with an iron grip to what looked like a service door that said 'Authorized Access Only' She stabbed in a key sequence on the electronic door lock and opened the door. It was a service corridor that seemed to be long and almost vanished into darkness. There was a lighted door at the other end. In yellow block letters was the phrase

Clairmont Women's Medical Institute

She held the door open and let the girl/dog take Sam to the other end.

Christian had started on the freeway heading north. He switched the station on the radio, clicking off Ghost Of Your Mind to a news station.

"...In other news, police have recently found several dead bodies at a Catholic Church in Los Angeles. The men who were gunned down were carrying illegal assault rifles and fully automatic firearms, only attainable on the black-market. Police are not sure why the men were there, but it is suspected that they were caught in an ambush. They all sported similar uniform and were the only ones to have died at the location. Police are presently tracking down the suspects.

"Two cars were reported regarding the suspects: a black Mercedes Benz with a license plate reading 'C66JQ78' has been stolen and was last seen heading east. Another unidentified vehicle is missing from the parking lot. Alternatively, a black van, estimated from the year 1992, has gone missing. A witness who heard gunfire saw several people exit the building into the car and head north on the 610 freeway.

"There are no physical descriptions of the suspects beyond the majority of the group were seen wearing trenchcoats and were dressed rather casually. One of the men were reported as missing an arm which was bleeding profusely..."

Christian turned the radio back to the music station, swearing softly. Guitar chords filled the cabin, and he exited off the freeway humming softly. He drove to a gas station and stepped outside into the cold air. He shuddered as he walked over, pushing his way past a patron filling his tank and stepped inside.

"Hey, do any of you guys know which is the fastest way onto the 610 freeway?"

"Uhm, yeah. Take a left from here, head down maybe about 3 blocks, take a right, the ramps are on your right. Where you headed?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. Thank you."

Jack's Impala rolls into the gas station with its speakers thundering, shaking the glass windows of the station until he turned the car off.
While they had stopped, he might as well top off his tank...

OOC: You at the gas station I'm at, Mercenary Soldiers?

Izual landed without a noise as the group entered the hospital. Wings hidden once again, he moved through the door before it closed. Catching up the distance, Izual now stood behind the women and Sam.

"They will find us here."

She just raised her eyebrow. "Yes and no...I wasn't planning on staying that long, just enough to get Sam here some help. And I didn't hear any suggestions from you in the first place...I know let's fly him to the Vatican...or to Mars...or Hell...If you have a better idea of where we can get Sam a bit of help without questions please tell me." She was getting a bit tired of the second guessing of every move. Her job wasn't to save Sam but find out what he knew.

Arithon pondered this for a moment. He had connects within the Vatican. He knew it wouldn't stop the demons forever, but it would be more difficult for them to find and capture Sam if he was there.

"That Vatican is a possibility. He cannot be taken to heaven as he is alive. Just so you know, the demon are on their way now."

Maximus listened as the others spoke.

"Yes...he speaks well. The Vatican will serve well for us."

Maximus blinked, his black eyes both watching the others and keeping a close eye upon Sam.

This one...something is different about him... he thought to himself.

"Fine, I will arange transport to...the Vatican. But could someone, well get me permission to enter?"

And transporting him through rome from the airport is going to prove a nightmare with the small winding lanes of the Western bank of the Tiber.

OOC: You know RL that is not a place that I would want to be traveling in this situation through. Most of the roads are east west, narrow steep and crooked...only a few roads move north south...

OOC: My bad, I was following the SUV. Ignore that gas-station thing.

IC:

Jack parked his land-yacht in a handicap spot, hanging a fake sign to prevent his car from being towed...

OOC: Ah, okay.

IC: Christian stepped outside in the cold air, and reached in his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He pulled them out, and after much struggling, managed to remove one and put it in his mouth. He put the box away in exchange for a lighter. A quick spin of the flintwheel, a quick light, and he started moving on again.

He opened the door to his car, and started the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot and started left, following the man's directions. He passed 3 blocks, and took a right as he was told. The on-ramp for the 610 northbound was standing there. He turned in and started up the ramp.

As he started to drive, he remembered whjere they had last decided to head to... a privately owned medical instituite, if he remembered properly. He had overheard it in the parking lot. There wes only one privately owned medical institute north of where he was. It was maybe an hour away. Christian was already overdue to meet them anyways. It couldn't be said if they would still be there. He floored the gas pedal, easily pushing 100 mps.

dude, don't bother bringing out a book. That was really pointless. what the hell was that picture all about, i mean if you are going to do somethingat aleast half intelligent then try and do it nicely.

waiting for your reply dude, don't leave me hangin'. :twisted:

OOC: If only I could reach through the computer screen & strangle the bastard...

OOC: ?

OOC: What the Hell are you talking about? Think he's referring to the smoking habit? There's reason for that. Just deem it foreshadowing for now, if that's what you're having a problem with.

dude, don't bother bringing out a book. That was really pointless. what the hell was that picture all about, i mean if you are going to do somethingat aleast half intelligent then try and do it nicely.

waiting for your reply dude, don't leave me hangin'. :twisted:

OOC: This is what I was talking about...

OOC: Bad news everyone...our Bishop didn't reply for so long because he was in an accident which sent him to the hospital. His nation has been deleated for inactivity during his recovery, so don't expect to hear from him.

Flanking Sam, she shifted back to human form just before reaching the institution doors. Inside, she walked with him to the end of the hallway. The air was sharp with the smell of disinfectants, and she sneezed at the intensity. A sign was posted at the end of the hall boasting directions for the various wards and treatment centers. Uncertain, she turned to wait for instructions from the other woman with a surreptitious glance to nearby personnel.

OOC: Ah well my best to Farwolf, and they will easily get back their nation if they want it...Also I'm waiting for our host to reply before I continue on...

bumby....

Hmm, well we could continue or not...however I think I've killed this thread

Alcona slayer of threads strikes again.... :evil:

ooc: It wasn't just you Alcona, it's all of our faults to some extent. I've been busy lately, wrapping up my spring semester in college, so I've been neglecting some parts of NS...this just happened to be one. Hopefully we'll keep this going though...

Hmm, well I think I pissed of Dannland who is sort of central to this thread...

OOC: He ain't been around in any other threads, so you must have really pissed him off. That, or he just ain't around.

OOC: Ah, he's been around in the Gangland thread...

edit: Last post on this thread 03/03
Last post on forum 03/23... :?

OOC: I don't think it had anything to do with you. Some people here just have really short attention spans. Like Kaukolastan. I can't even count how many threads he started that just sort of paused indefinately in the middle due owner/creator unresponsiveness...

OOC: Yeah your right...but I've also tended to anoy people when my characters start to wildly speculate...they think I'm foreshadowing and in realtiy I'm trying to Rp from their 'life' experiences. I've had more than one occasion where that has occurred. And then I seem to have come up with the hostipal location etc... :?

OOC: Yeah your right...but I've also tended to anoy people when my characters start to wildly speculate...they think I'm foreshadowing and in realtiy I'm trying to Rp from their 'life' experiences. I've had more than one occasion where that has occurred. And then I seem to have come up with the hostipal location etc... :?

ooc: trust me, if I thought you were getting beside yourself, I'd have told you lol :lol:

OOC: ok...This thread's been silent for a while (IC-wise). I'm going to remove myself from the thread...

IC:

Maximus suddenly crumpled to the ground, gripping his head. A powerful psychic wave had entered his mind. He could tell it had come from a far distance.

Skadi.

As the wave passed, he got to his feet again, and looked at the others who had turned to see what had happened.

"I've got to go. I am being called. I wish you the best in your journeys. Perhaps, I will return. Perhaps not."

With that, he left the building and took to the rooftops, making his way toward the western horizon quickly.

He really hoped all turned out well with the special one. He would hate to hear otherwise.

OOC2: You've got the message from Maximus. He might return, if this thread ever gets moving again. I'll be looking out for it. Thanks for the great rping so far!

Ah, the problem is that Danneland can't post on this thread...(something's odd about that...)

So I'f everyone is intrested we will begin the second chapter...I'll try to get the author to restart it. Sorry for not updating this when I found out...
-GWD...the man behind the curtian...

Ah, the problem is that Danneland can't post on this thread...(something's odd about that...)

So I'f everyone is intrested we will begin the second chapter...I'll try to get the author to restart it. Sorry for not updating this when I found out...
-GWD...the man behind the curtian...

*pulls open the curtain*

AHA! So you HAVE been sleeping on the job!

:lol:

**Discovers and eight foot Var standing behind him**

Close the curtain and you will not be eaten