Tar, Night, Danger (Stranger)

[Brookelle Bones]

Brookelle was walking along the 'Beaches' of Chicago. Also known as the rooftops. She loved being up here. So much space. She could get away from anything and everything. Mostly humans. She didn't want to be near any right now. Bruce was right. She needed to feed, she just wouldn't feed off of him. She didn't want to feed off a human either. She was walking along the rooftops before she heard one of the doors leading up to the roof slammed open.

So much for inconspicuous. She thought. Many humans were quiet at night. Others were loud. She didn't care which. She stopped at the edge of the building she was on, the one where the door had slammed open, and sat on the edge. Looking down at the street and the alley way. A few humans were passing through the alley way trying to get somewhere faster. She shook her head. Not the smartest idea in this city.

[Stranger]

The apartment was like any other, cheap, compact and reeking of smoke. At first glance no-one would be able to tell anything was wrong. The lights were off and it would appear no one was home. Stranger however was not anyone and the pounding headache at his temples told him that somthing evil had occured within these four walls. Flicking the light switch he sighed as the lights above flickeredo n for a moment before snapping off. Fumbling into his bag Stranger drew clear a flash-light and flicked it on, scanning across the room. A pair of pretty crystal glasses sat on the coffee table half-filled with wine. His flash-light also picked up on an article of clothing tossed carelessly to the side. A womans blouse. His flash-light flicked towards the bed-door which lay half open.

Drawing one of the long barreled pistols from it's hiding placei n his coat Stranger quietly crept to the door and waited a few seconds. No sound emitted from within and so with a firm kick he booted the door open and swepti nside, gun and pistol trailing back and forth, illuminating whatever they fell upon. The room was almost empty save for a ghostly pale figure laying on the bed, eyes wide open, one hand by her head on the pillow, the other hanging off the side. Holstering his pistol Stranger approached the still form and carefully touched two fingers to her neck. Nothing greeted his touch. The lass had been young and comely. His figure well shaped, the thin sheet covered her waist down while her upper half was naked, her plump lips, generous breasts and baby blue eyes marked her as pretty, though now her skin was grey and her eyes wide and dim. Her flowing red/brown hair was spread out beneath her like a puddle. Gently Stranger turned her head to the right. Sure enough a pair of small pin pricks were visible on hern eck, and her wrist appeared to haveb een cut by a sharp blade. Their was precious little blood anywhere to be seen. Sighing the man lifted his bag and placed it on the bed, drawing clear a few items from it. A silver, curved saw with wickedly sharp teeth. A small hammer and a sharp, silver spike. Drawing a cross hung on rosary beads from his pocket he hung it on the bedside, the cross dangling above the girls head. "Exmodus Mortis Requiem." he whispered before placing the spike over her chest and with three heavy blows from the hammer drove it through the bone and into the still heart. No blood flowed from the wound. Lifting the saw Stranger gripped the woman by the hair and dragged it across her neck, it parted sinew, flesh and bone easily as he repeatedly drove it through. Eventually her head came away, blood soaking the satin pillow. Laying it gently into place Stranger cleaned his tools on the jeans which lay scattered to the side and placed them back in the bag. Lifting the small cross on the beads similer to the one wrapped around his wrist he tucked it into the girls hand and tugged the sheet up to cover her form. She would keep untill tomorrow when he could have someone come and deal with the mess. Sliding his tool bag under the bed Stranger left the apartment silently, locking the door behind him.

He slammed the door shut behind him, happy to be free of the confines of the little apartment. The fresh air cleared his headache as he walked to the edge and leaned on it, resting his forearms against the concrete ledge. His fingers rubbing the rosary beads into his palm. He became vaugly aware of another presence on the roof and glanced over his shoulder, noting the rather poor looking young creature who sat on the edge. He studied her for a moment, a pretty girl though perhaps a little too skinny for her own good. Probably out daydreaming (so to speak) and practically unaware of the world around her. Detaching his gaze from her he turned ito utwards towards the expanding city. Listening to the distant sirens of police cars and the rush of nearby traffic.

[Brookelle Bones]

Brookelle closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She smelt blood. She quickly stood up and turned toward the human. It wasn't him. That was for sure, but it was on his jeans. Even in the dark she could see the deep crimson staining the jeans. That wouldn't come out. It never did. Bleach was the best friend to a vampire. Clean jeans, meant bleach spots on them, Brookelle could make a design with the bleach spots, and make it look less obvious. She knew almost every human knew about vampires. This must be one of the great hunters. She thought with sarcasm. She hated anyone that killed another based on stereotypes.

She walked towards the door that he had just entered from. Knowing that it came from a room, she had been on the roof tops before, but never killed. But according to hunters. All vampires killed. She passed the doorway, and behind the human. Walking up a small ramp that connected the two roof tops together and walked up that, and onto the next roof. Just tempting the human to follow her. She wanted to talk to him, but wouldn't do so bluntly. She wanted to study him first.

[Stranger]

The woman sharing the roof with him drifted away. As she passed that rolling headache returned with such intensity it nearly knocked him right off his feet. Lifting a hand to his temple he grit his teeth before his instincts snapped in and he wheeled, pistol drawn. The roof-top was empty, the sound of the creatures foot-steps creeping off into the night. " I hate it when they do that." He murmered to himself as he took the roof in a few wide strides, pulling the door open, his pistol leveled on the empty stair-well and held for a moment. If the creature was a hollow-tooth, a vampire, then she would need to be dealt with in a specific manner and Stranger frankly wasn't of the disposition to stake, salt and decapitate another body tonight. Sheathing his pistol he reached from the gun strapped to his side.

Generations ago, when America was first colonised ( or so the story say's) a gunsmith in a small, back-water town had a vision of the Arch Angel Gabriel laying broken upon the ground. The gunsmith found himself at the tallest mountain and watched as the world burned, a beast with many heads, each one baring a crowd etched with a name that he couldn't read, nor could he stand to look at for long strode the flaming corpse of the world. The sheer size and terror of the monster was almost enough to stop the gunsmith's heart cold. When he awoke he vowed arm Gabriel so that he need not fall when such a beast rose and, offering praises to the Gods crafted a weapon that might one day defend the arch angel. The weapon was named after the crown that lay in the arch-angels mutilated hand, the name upon it had no meaning to the gunsmith or any creature save the king of all kings himself, the letters etched on the barrel yet to be spoken by a mortal tongue. Throough generations the weapon passed from person to person. Choosing it's owner on the dday of it's previous owners death.

Crafted from the melted down silver of church bells, a nail taken from the hand of Christ, iron from a lucky horse-shoe and steel from the sheers which cut Samson's hair, the weapon's surface was black as night, yet gleamed almost as if wet, reflecting the light back and forth as it played on the surface. The handle was inlaid with a polished dark wood, taken from Arc Noah crafted to last the forty days of rain that swept the world clean once, the weapon certianly had an antique look about it. Calmly Stranger broke it open, checking the shells inside. The bullets the weapon fired were incredibly difficult to make and orignals were almost impossible to find in any number of life times. Each shell was also dark as night, inlaid with silver runes that glowed like them oon on a clear night. Each one offering the promise of bloody doom to the immortal horrers of the night. Every shell was hand cast from a mould cut from the stone which sealed Christ's tomb for three days and were quenced in the tears of of a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, a rare thing indeed. In short, Stranger was taking no chances wiht this one. The vampire that killed that woman below was old, very old indeed. Even though the creature might look like a girl no older than any innocent child in her teens the vampire could be as old as time itself!

With revolver drawn Stranger creeped down the stairs, taking each step carefully, his breath's measure, eyes flitting in the dark. He caught just enough of the girl turning around a corner to follow, his foot-fall taking him to a ramp which seemed to connect both buildings. Crossing it carefully he held the revolver out infront of him, the black mouthed barrel scanning left and right. The girl seemed almost to be waiting for him. A breif moment as he considered his options followed before he stepped onto the roof and into plane sight ( Thogh the creatures unnatural eyes would have seen him jus fine in his dark, shadowy and utterly fleeting sanctuary. The black revolver leveled on her, the hammer eased back as he kept it trained on her with an unflinching gaze. Why did she stop though?

He scanned her over once. While she was beautiful in many respects Stranger couldn't think of her as such. She was more....cute, as innocent, wholesome and harmless as a reverends daughter. All the easier to lure others to their doom, he supposed. His storm cloud grey eyes narrowed as he glared down the barrel at her, long raven hair spilling past his shoulders, brim of his hat pulled down to hide his eyes from view. " Not a bad night." He commented casually, the sound of his voice tomb deep and utterly without humour.

[Brookelle Bones]

Brookelle watched as he came towards her with a gun. She sighed. She knew it was a hunter now. She thought that it was a regular human. What confused her was why he wasn't shooting yet. He was right in front of her. He had a nice clear shot, just like she did. She could run towards him, and get behind him before his eyes could adjust to the night. But she didn't. Why bother. She turned facing him, not just her side, her entire body.

She let her shoulder drop, showing that she was relaxed, and had no muscles tensed. She didn't need to hunt, or feed, or whatever the hunters called it. Well she did need to, hence why her skin was rather pale, her skin would be cold to the touch, and her eyes had more red around the edge than normal. But of course you would only know that if you've looked into her eyes before. She had just gotten to deal with Bruce and the other vampire the other night. The hot head vampire wanted her... For nothing more than sex. She didn't want to be used. She had feelings like everyone else. Guilt, Shame, Jealousy, Anger, Sadness, Resentment, and all the rest.

"Its not a bad night, your right" She replied softly. She moved over to one of the many air conditioners stationed on the roof and jumped up onto the top and sat down, looking out towards the city street. She saw a traffic jam, cops trying to correct everything, and even a few humans daring enough to walk at this time of night. She began kicking her legs, creating a small metal thumping noise every time her heels hit the air conditioner. Wearing a white halter top and a blue skirt, it probably wasn't the best idea to be out on a roof, especially at night. Any other teenager would get yelled at to put more clothes on before she froze to death. She missed those times.

26 Years. Constantly being 18 for 26 years. She'd be 44 by now. She'd most likely have a family by now. A loving husband, kids, and possibly even pets. She looked down at her still moving legs. She hated thinking of what would have been. What would have happened if she had listened to her parents and not gone to that party. She just hoped that now those scums were dead. Gone. Needless to say, being kidnapped and turned into a vampire wasn't her idea of a good time at a party. But it had happened, there was nothing to stop it. She didn't know who turned her or why, most likely because she was hot. She watched as a crimson dot fell from her eyes and hit her leg. Before another joined it, but this time on her other leg. They slowly made their way down her leg, and onto the air conditioner.

She quickly wiped her eyes. She didn't want the hunter to see, but he most likely already had. She quickly turned away. This hunter could see a weakness, over what, he probably didn't know. She turned back towards him when she had ceased the extra blood from leaving her eyes. She hated that she couldn't cry like a normal person. Blood. Always blood. But it probably wasn't helping the fact that she needed to feed.

[Stranger]

Stranger kept his weapon trained on her. Somthing didn't quite add up. For a three decades he had hunted creatures like her and knew the game inside and out. The prey ran or fought, they never simply stood. Even she she replied to his comment he was still trying to summon the will to gun her down. His finger was on the trigger, squeezing and yet the shot never came. His hand began to shake as he struggled, trying to force the trigger to pull back. " Fuck it." He replied at last, dropping his arm and sliding the revolver back into his holster.

Dressed in a dark, plain dress shirt, a pair of jeans, tall rock boots, a black coat and a fedora, Stranger could have almost looked normal if it wasn't for the fairly outlandish manner in which he dressed. The rosmary beads wrapped around his wrist were hung with a cross which lightly swang back and forth with every movement on his hand. With pistol holstered both hands now hung free. Glancing breifly from her to the wall he glanced out to the traffic jam which currently dominated the roads. People scurried here and there, most of them never knowing exactly what went on in their streets at night. It was both a gift and a curse to know what terrible things happened out there at night. Terrible because every day when you walk by a news stand of a television and you ear about strange murders in the news you see things that others don't, terrible things, on the other hand however it was a gift. For what was evil if not proof of God? If God exists then some...greater scheme was no in motion.

Strange flicked his gaze to the woman sharing the roof-top in time to see crimson tears rolling down her cheeks which she swiftly tried to hide. He dropped his gaze, making like he hadn't seen anything. " Didn't think your kind had anything left to cry for." He commented, the words without malice. It was merely a stated fact, an observation. Why did the dead weep? Did they have anything to weep for?

[Brookelle Bones]

Brookelle quickly looked at him. He was stereotyping vampires. He had no room to talk. Needless to say, he had pissed her off. She hated being treated like she was soulless, she wasn't. Well she was. Her soul wasn't attached to her body anymore. Hence why vampires could move, hear, and see better. They could also fly, kinda.

She hated people that characterized every vampire as evil. Or that they all killed. Needless to say they still had emotions, or most of them did. The rest just hid them. She was one of the few that had never killed. He must have assumed that she did, otherwise he wouldn't be hunting to vigilant.

"Didn't think your kind had anything left to cry for."

"And i thought all hunters were ruthless, didn't hesitate, weren't scared" she snapped. She didn't like people stereotyping. It pissed her off. "I also thought that hunters didn't like vampires. Well if they didn't, i wouldn't be alive right now, now would I? she questioned.

She knew that she was hitting a spot. If you said that to anyone you would. "If you want to know. Vampires have feelings. Were not just corpses. Were still people. We have feelings. We care about people. We love, hate, envy, get mad, and most of all, get hurt" she stated. She knew that he probably wouldn't care, but she did. She hated people like that. Needless to say, if you told someone that you thought something the complete opposite, they most likely would get pissed to. It was just her temper. Well mostly a vampires temper, it probably didn't help that she knew that she should just stop thinking of the past.

The past is the past. Nothing else. Nothing can change it, just go on with the future. That's whats best, nothing else. She turned around, her back facing him. She walked over and leaned her arms on the air conditioner. She leaned her head down. She didn't want to get herself all worked up. She needed to feed, she didn't want to make it worse.

[Stranger]

To most people she looked like an attractive teenage girl and, had Stranger wished he could have seen her as that as well. But his... 'thing', whatever it was showed him the truth of her. Her body wasperfectly white, almost artifical, like some horribly life like doll, her eyes glassy in death. Behind her, spectral arms wrapped around her mortal bodies shoulders he could see her. Who she used to be, clinging to her. The detached soul mimicing ever word and facial expression that crossed the mortal bodies face, hair waving around like she was submerged in water. That was the tragedy of it, a soul cut free, its corpse left to live as a monster with the thoughts and feelings of the eternal soul still strapped to it. Stranger blinked, then again, shaking his head slightly. When he looked back she was as she should have been, just a normal teen girl.

Her snapped comment didn't appear to have any effect on him. He didn't flinch nor do anything save glance down to the road once more. " Caught me on a bad night." He said, close to a joke to brush off her suggestion. He disliked how she was thinking, trying to get inside his head, into that terrible mess of a mind that floated around in his skull. He didn't appreciate that one bit. Nor did he like being told what he did and didn't know. Pulling a silver flask from his pocket he unscrewed the top and took a deep drink of the contents, wincing at the bitter, thick taste. " Murgh...Your preaching to the choir." He knew full well vampires had everything a human had, some of them just...didn't act on them. The existance betwen the mortal word and the supernatural one was one of constant war. In war their were casualties. Stranger knew he'd probably killed... 'nice' monsters. Ones who tried to just get on but that was war, a required evil. Better perhaps to leave them to suffer an eternal half-life?

Taking another drink of the Absinthe he winced, the strong drink burning his throat like liquid fire. Normally such a strong drink was sugered and mixed with cold water, but Stranger prefered it in it's natural form at eighty nine percent alchole with enough kick to hit a field goal. " Maybe I'm not in the mood to kill anything else tonight, don't press your luck." he half-growled, removing his hat and brushing a hand through his hair. His head-ache was subsiding now to a mere dull ache. Glancing up to the corpse that shared the roof he glared at her for a moment before wiggling the flask in his fingers. " Wanna slug?" Extending his hand he shook the flash, the liquid sloshing around inside.

[Brookelle Bones]

Brookelle sighed. She knew that trying to reason with a hunter was useless. She shook her head, rolled her eyes. Brookelle walked past him, and walked down the little ramp, sitting back on the edge that he had first seen her. She didn't want to deal with a incompetent little human. She could kill him before he even took his gun back out. Let alone get a shot off.

" Caught me on a bad night."

"I highly doubt it. I think your scared. Or you've lost your touch" she said smiling. She was testing him now. She wanted him to take out his gun. She wanted to see how fast he could actually finally get up the courage to shoot at her. Since she knew that she was at least 3 times faster and stronger than him, she could break his neck by the time that he got it out. Needless to say, she didn't kill.

"Murgh...Your preaching to the choir."

She laughed as he winced at Alcohol. She didn't miss getting drunk. She smiled as he offered her some. "I may be preaching to the choir. But at least i don't kill for no reason." She said smirking. "And if you don't want me to feed off of you, I'd recommend keeping the alcohol away from me.... If you even know what it does to our bodies" she stated. Having not fed in a little over a week and needing blood, the only thing from keeping her from hunting tonight was this little hunter.

She heard the liquid that could drive her to kill swishing around in the container. She looked down at the alley way and saw a small group of people walking by, she picked up a small pebble and dropped it on one of their heads. She smiled at the guy that looked up. She needed to feed. What? She didn't care if the hunter was there or not.

"Hey! What was that for? the guy yelled up at her. "What? I couldn't see how cute you were until you looked up" she said smiling. She quickly, but still at human speed, got up and walked over to the fire escape. Before slowly walking down it, she looked over at the hunter. "I promise i won't kill" she said as she smiled showing her fangs, and walking down the staircase. She reached the edge, still a few feet from the ground, nothing that would harm her if she jumped, let alone a human, and she sat down, kicking her legs back and forth like she did on the roof.