VtM Second Week of Darkness

Day 9: Newly Found Power

We as Kindred, the moment we are embraced we are given a newfound form of power at our embrace. Gifted in powers and abilities that are beyond human capability, even the simplest things that we can do are impossible for any normal person to do. Reactions vary from person to person, depending on what they have been embraced into.

For me in particular, as the charming wanderer that I am and graceful daredevil, I have garnered a very particular set of abilities. At first, of course, it helps with the obvious capability of being dead that I kind of stop worrying about a lot of expenses in life. So far just enough to keep up the facade of being human. Any bruises or profound wounds I get are gone as the night passes or that I actively will myself in doing. Always gotta be careful at least, don’t want to be getting hungry.

But that’s the basics, the simplicity and so on of what we Kindred can do.

For a Rogue, like me, we are gifted in three very particular powers from what I have seen, learned and most definitely used. The first and obvious thing we can do is that we exude this intoxicating supernatural charm and power of enthralment, a favourite of mine. To be at the centre, to have your words feel smoother, to have others just utterly fall for you. To just look their way, melting and going weak at the knees for you. I have seen others use it in a far more terrifying way, to make them buckle and run away in fear.

The other power I’m capable of takes quite a bit to use. From what I know we are capable of controlling the animals around us. Having pets, communicating with them, seeing through their eyes and commanding a flock of them at will. But what I found most intriguing, something that I want to build myself into is the control of that inner Beast. To sense the hostility in others, to know their true nature and intent whether it be mortals, another vampire and well hopefully I never meet a Lupine, God forbid. But also being able to cause animals around to go rabid, is a neat little trick. I heard others can track through the sheer smell of fear. However, there is a particular gift we are truly capable of, which is the sheer taming and infliction of the Beast. That power to look in their eyes and quell them to be just lethargic, but neutering a Kindred’s Beast. For either better or for worse, but not only that… I have heard that in those moments of anger or fear, they inflict a Frenzy into someone else. Now that… oh that’s just dangerous.

But here is power truly and utterly in my Clan’s particular wheelhouse. Illusion, misdirection, cloaking and to be utterly hidden from those who would chase at us. We can be eerily silent as we move. We can just blend in as we stay still. Able to disguise ourselves as any person, whether it be someone in the background or that next-door neighbour. We can vanish into thin air when we are surrounded, by those who want us buried eight feet under. We can even share this power as a group to remain unknown for those not gifted in it. But our speciality is a sheer perfect illusion, to truly distract the mind, to befuddle and confuse them to which they question reality. To craft things that just aren’t there. Whether it be the simple sound of a fly or the touch of a kiss at one’s neck, but it can intensify further to the creation of some truly beautiful distractions or horrific nightmares brought to life.

These are the gifts given to us tonight, gifts I am learning to hone and understand as time flies on through the night. Perfect for a risk-taker like me to pull at the strings of others. To play the long cons that those much older than us like to play into. Why be cautious these nights, with powers like these, the success after tempting the fates to its most dangerous path, just tastes all the sweeter for the heart.

Day 10: Inner Monster

No matter who you are in our world, there is one thing we can all relate to and it’s that damn thing inside us.

Something that is felt so deeply among us, that we at least understand to the extent we have been at its mercy. The horror of losing control to its whims, that moment where we feel its ugly presence in us all. That thing comes in many forms, others have theorised what it could be and how it appears in us.

That it is our darkest reflection truly trying to lead us into damnation, just emphasising the very worst parts of us. Others say that is a separate entity independent living in us, each made uniquely for each Kindred in the whole world. That no Beast is the same in us made more different with the banes and curses of our Clan influencing. Yet there is one theory that well, is honestly terrifying. All I will say about it, there is a reason it is only mentioned as a singular, never as a plural, and it is inside us, controlling us.

No matter what it is, we all learn to live with it inside us. We all bear with it, like the universe’s worst roommate that lives in us. However, we try to make it work. Locking it up in the deepest parts of ourselves, in mental cages where it will never break out. Like a predator locked away, like the animals in zoos. But the thing about, patience and time, is the damn speciality, waiting so politely for that weak spot. Some have dangerously and even stupidly trying to understand it, tame it, control it and talk with it. All the better to essentially co-exist with it, to be on better terms to this thing inside us.

Like of course!

Why wouldn’t you try to relate to it?

It’s simply another side of you to better one-self?

Really?

Some things in this world boil my blood. But that stuff? Only one group of people commits to it, and it’s certainly not a good sense of spiritual enlightenment. It doesn’t have feelings, it doesn’t have ulterior motives, it is a damn collection of our most horrid instincts come to life that tears away from controlling our bodies. To completely dissociate, to blackout entirely and being able to see the horrid things you are doing. Whether it be that constant need to feed, to dominate others to bend to your will, to severely harm someone, or be so suspicious in your own home. Or at worst when we feel the banes and those urges that reside within our blood.

The worst feeling of it all is when those three common feelings just break out in all of us.

The Hunger, to just devour utterly and be bloated with the life essence of the victims that get in our way.

The Terror, when faced with something that will bring our immediate end, to freeze up like an animal or flee as fast as we can away from this danger.

The Fury, it… all you leave is carnage, until anything that has caused you ill will, simply must die.

This isn’t some person living inside us to befriend, it isn’t our darkest selves we must make peace with and nor is it an animal to tame. This is a monster, a creature of the darkest instincts living inside us that will take complete and utter control of us all.

Day 11: Faith That Hurts

I was a choir child, front row and utterly devoted to the Lord.

My flock and shepherd kept me on the path where the Heavenly’s father light shines on me. I followed his edicts, his laws and made sure my morals aligned to allow me to abide in this road to his gates in paradise. I confessed and was honest of my sins, I made sure to act sensibly in this life of mine, to uphold the ethic to which his many Saints follow. I worked hard and have created myself to be what the Lord has wished of me to be.

So why… why in these nights have I revoked my faith?

For all of my life that I have tirelessly made sure to follow for him?

Because in those moments where I struggled in this new form of existence, I discovered what my faith does to me.

I am repulsed by the Crucifix to which the Son sacrificed himself.

The waters to which they baptised me, burns me now like acid.

And the faith to which my former peers held… they used it against me.

A lost wounded lamb, a lamb that needed saving. A lamb that did not have to be slaughtered or thrown into the Lord’s wrath.

Did God not notice me?

Did he not recognise their former child of his home?

Did he… abandon me?

God has exiled me, wounded me deeply and has exiled me out from his kingdom of faith.

It was here, that I was alone in the dark, forsaken and left to die.

But there were others like me… others who were cast aside by God.

Saying that they understand my pain, for that the light it cleanses and repels, leaving what it wants to see from us. That all it remains is the clean picturesque form of us. It does not hold our true self, because we were made to be what we are and God is intervening in remaking us.

When all it was that we wanted was acceptance and to be loved.

So I have revoked this faith that has scarred me.

For I have found a new parent to embrace me in the darkness, a new parent that loves and accepts me.

Praise thee to them!

Day 12: Blood Hunter

I watch them, the hunt has been called.

I fix my cap, keeping it low to hide my face as I follow them now. Fixing my outfit, a disguise of a labourer, a simple workman, making sure that my tools of the trade are where they are. Keeping track and not losing my sight of them. Making sure I am unseen and unnoticeable in the background to them. Blend in, be forgotten to them, and now time fades away.

I feel the demon in me pull from the blood, trading my finite vitae to remain hidden and my steps quiet.

I take note of the cameras around me, capable to remain hidden under this level of security, but it lasts as long as I don’t break the veil of my stealth. I am careful with the guards, making sure I pass certain entrances without worry and others with far more difficult to traverse through. I call upon my blood to get to certain points quick as my powers let me, to dodge notice out of the way and keep my movements quick on the draw. That demon aids without much hassle and a few times it gnaws at the back of my mind to finish the hunt.

I breakthrough as best that my skills in this profession can get me, to get where I need to be. Getting through the guards quickly, remaining hidden and using the sorcerous gifts to ensure I am not far off from my target. Until I have made it where I need to be.

I see my target.

Unprepared and unaware of my presence or my intentions.

The mission is clear, for I must act as the blade of the Judges.

An expectation to be held for those similar to my blood.

I make sure my body is ready. My hands slowly pull out the hammers from the pouches in the outfit, my grip tight and firm on the wooden handles. I wait for the opportunity, my chance to strike true towards them.

Patient, careful, clean and precise. The method to which I must uphold myself to enact the wrath of our Laws.

Brutal, visceral, vicious and bloody. The punishment that must be dealt with and the message sent for those that become the targets of these hunts.

Judgement has been called for them.

Their blood is the price.

I wait, that demon in me anxious and eager to kill. I keep my hand still.

Wait…

Wait…

Wait…

Now!

Day 13: Eyes of the Beast

I ran as fast as I could, putting as much distance that I could from them. I should have listened, I should not be so damn stupid heading there! Dodging through back-alleys and any street-lit paths, making sure I was trying to lose them. But these guys… are just utterly relentless and are still on my tail.

I was warned, severely and many times over about it. And what did I do with these warnings? I scoffed at them, believing they were just some push-overs thinking they are all some hard-core edgy vamps. How am I supposed to take seriously some boogeyman stories, meant to scare Fledglings into obedience? I’ve handled myself, I can handle perhaps just some Cammie fools wanting to be all dark or Anarch gangbangers thinking they can act all scary.

No…

No, these weren’t any of that.

Now I am eating my own words because of this nonsense. Chasing me down, like not even people, they were like a pack of animals, predators pursuing their prey. I could hear their feet hitting the concrete and splashing through the puddles. The rain didn’t slow them down, no amount of obstacles even hindered them, they ploughed through everything.

Literally.

I kept going and going, thankful I wasn’t human, thankful I couldn’t get exhausted anymore.

But then… Well…

I tripped.

I fucking fell to the ground.

It was over the moment my face hit the concrete.

But then… It was silent.

No growls, no incoming steps.

Just the sounds of the city at night.

It was unnerving, I couldn’t see them anywhere.

I just slowly got up and began to get moving, perhaps they moved away, wanting to just scare me. Maybe even felt bad for me? I can’t help the chuckle that I am still alive, a mess but alive.

I get up, looking back and just give a thankful sigh of relief.

As I turned around to continue on my way.

They were all there, staring at me, with red hungry eyes.

Bestial eyes.

The last thing I saw was when they jumped me…

I don’t think I screamed.

Kind of hard when their fangs were already in my throat.

Day 14: Every Rose has its Thorns

Music.

It’s what keeps me together, these nights. The pluck of a string, the thrum of a drum, the smooth feel of an ivory key. Since Katrina, I was discordant, lost and in an ugly place then. After the shooting, just that loud bang ringing in my ears, the excruciating pain at where I was shot.

I was lucky, just lucky to be alive.

I remember recovering in that hospital, guitar with me in bed. So rusty playing my grandfather’s old guitar. From then on, music came to save my life. It healed me, I was alive and true, from then on my life shifted for the better.

I found people that understood this, I have a band, I have a place here and a calling in New Orleans. This was a place to be lively, to feel alive, to feel connected to our roots and to be proud no matter the horrors we faced.

Emphasised more as I was welcomed into the night. Embraced to a group who understands this, this Clan of beautiful roses. They understood the emotion, the love, the dedication and ambition with this. All of this. Had me able to fine-tune the finer things with my senses, to get that intoxicating uproarious applause and feeling far more flexible with my moves.

This is what it means, to be the very pinnacle of your art, of your craft and of how others especially see you. But here’s something I understood, being this and what I am.

Where there is praise from your peers, there is the critique from those that want you to crumble under pressure.

Where there is one cheering you on, there will certainly be one booing and slinging abuse at you.

Where you are expecting just that adamant yes from someone, it is just a silent shake of the head.

They slander me, for being just this obsessive romantic whose taste is lost, in the falsehood of my art.

No.

They wish to pull and throw me, like a weed? Their hands will be blood if they try to grasp at me. They call my petals gaudy and my perfume horrendous, then try to look away from me, try not to be as equally as obsessed with me as I am in my endeavours. Try to even raise your hand against me, you will miss and most importantly I will strike first. God forbid you to try to outshine me, can a candle be the sun? Of course not. And when you seek so desperately for our response, for us to play in your tune and tireless dramatics, expect silence. Not a glare or even a cold shoulder, because why should we care for such ugly things like that? It is not even worth our attention.

Sad, how you hate us so much, how you are so addicted to us, wanting and needing us. Lingering around for us to kiss you, to be so subservient and submissive to all of you. We know what gets your heart beating and we know how to deny you that sweet bliss of release. Having you choke with our petals shoved down and these thorny vines squeezing tight around your throat.

I love everyone because everyone loves me.

Those who don’t, well, who were they?

Be gentle if you want to get close to a Rose like me, it hurts doesn’t it, bringing me close to you?

But you like those thorns don’t you?

Day 15: Blue Blood

We dragged these Royals out from their fancy luxurious havens.

Chained and dragged, any dignity is gone. Beating them down took a while, but that’s the joy of taking these supposed Patricians to the ground. Like we would never stop reflecting on what they did to us. Just had to catch them off guard, gang up on them and go damn berserk on their asses.

Gagged them too. Some were far more brutal in silencing their voices. We experienced how they use it to bully those they see as beneath us. Having us be forced to kneel, to be quiet and to tell them anything we wanted. Careful with their wordings to get exactly what they needed out of us.

Their gifts of allure, hard to get any sympathy when you have been utterly debased. Harder still to look proper and regal, or to even garner sympathies when the usurpers know your slick ways. Some tried to be terrifying, trying to be icons of horror, but a swift reminder of their state helps that they are in no position to be feared, that they are the ones to be in fear.

These Kings & Queens, abuse and claim right amongst us all!

Nothing but domineering and vicious Tyrants, a lot of them.

All of them, dictators to stamp down on us!

But what’s stranger still… is that they believe themselves to be made and born different.

Of course, with all the riches, pedigree and privileges, how could they not be built differently. How it changes your mind, your outlook, your priorities in the world. That I can understand that being sets them apart, I can comprehend the logic behind it. But here’s the thing that will make me laugh about it, that they believe they are physically built differently.

Of course qualities of Clan aside, sure that makes them stand out, but it is the selection of gifts that do that. Others are hardy, who can attract attention and can command with their voices. What they believe that separates them is their blood itself, that it even is a different colour. That this goes even before their embrace, that they claim this was even true to their human lives.

Makes me laugh, these supposed Blue Bloods.

To tell you the truth…

All lies.

Red as the peasants they demean and degrade.

But well… there is something that does differentiate us from the rest of us.

They certainly taste richer!