Chapter 2: The Prince of Los Angeles
“No one holds command over me. No man. No god. No Prince. What is a claim of age
for ones who are immortal? What is a claim of power for ones who deny death? Call your
damnable hunt. We shall see who I drag screaming to hell with me.”
- Günter Dörn, Das Ungeheuer Darin
Eventually Sabrina was shown some mercy from her paralytic hell as she must have passed out. After a blissful slumber for an unknown period of time, she awoke the pain in her chest was back. It was excruciating, but her lung was punctured which made it hard to speak or even gasp. She did realize that if she concentrated, she didn't even have to breathe, though the pain certainly a challenge to ignore. She felt wetness stream down her cheeks and pool on her chin as she wept tears of blood from the pain she endured. She could move, hear, everything again. Though, her hands were bound and she was currently being held, hovering over the ground a foot feeling a giant hand holding her up by the back of her neck. As she stirred, she was placed down on the wooden floor, but held firmly in place by a man even more giant than Bradley. He was a tower of a man; nearly 8 feet tall and on his back was a massive piece of sharpened metal like a giant cleaver. He was completely expressionless and did not move an inch. His hand felt like a vice on her shoulder, if she attempted to move, it might pull it out the socket. The man was dressed in a long grey leather duster jacket and some ashen color rags for clothing.
Sabrina could see that she was in some kind of board room that also looked a bit like a throne room, surrounded by what appeared to be corpses sitting around the table. Perfectly preserved cadavers who at first appeared to be completely still like statues. However, after she stirred a few did turn their heads or just shift their eyes to look at her without moving any other part of their bodies. Most of the group was well dressed, while a few at the far end of the table looked a bit more ragtag. There was no sign of her kidnappers, but there was someone she recognized at the table, Therese. She sat directly across from her, and only just raised an eyebrow when Sabrina looked at her. After her, there a line of men and women, human and otherwise sitting at the table all looking very serious. Some of the grouped looked relatively normal, while others were dressed like they were either from a past time or even straight out of a comic book or horror movie, but each was quite unique. Kneeling to her right, on the other side of her captor was Bradley, gagged and bound. He did not move, looking completely fearful and trying to clutching his chest. His wound was bloody, but not bleeding; much like her own.
The man that headed the table, just to her left was a medium height and build blonde man who couldn't have been more than 25, maybe up to 30 years old. Behind him stood
"Good evening," the man started in a well spoken manner with a hint of a French accent. "My fellow Kindred, my apologies for disrupting any business or interfering with prior engagements you may have had tonight. It's unfortunate that the affairs that gather us together here is a troubling one." He spoke as if the affair was business. He was formal, but spoke with no sense of anger or distress. He was entirely calm and something about his demeanor ensured that though he understood the seriousness of the matter, it was not having an affect on his composure. "We are here because the laws that bind our society together, the laws that are the fabric of our existence, have been broken."
He pauses for a moment, Bradley's straining was muffled but through the silence in the crowd was quite loud in comparison, as if the seats were filled with mannequins. "As Prince, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring. Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests. However, the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission. Indeed, my permission was never sought at all." A hint of anger at the unusual transgression came through at this point. The man, titling himself
Prince, clearly was not pleased when those beneath him disobeyed.
"They were caught shortly after the Embrace of this Childe." He said, his composure returning, "It pains me to announce the sentence, as up to tonight, I considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization." He didn't even speak his name, as if he meant so little to him, despite his carefully chosen yet empty words. "But as some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression, is Final Death." The harsh sentence should have brought some reaction from the crowd, but they remained silent, not a gasp of breath or stirring in seats. "Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant of the law that governs us all. Let tonight's proceeding serve as a reminder to out community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood." He paused for a moment before walking to Bradley's side and kneeling before him. "Forgive me." He said in a faux apologetic tone, before standing up.
"Let the penalty commence." He said with a hint of pleasure. Before he could let out any chance of protest or defense, the giant man lifted his great blade into the air and let if fall heavily upon Bradley. His head separated from his body and rolled staring lifeless at the ceiling only inches away from Sabrina's feet. Only a moment later, the head started to turn pale and grey before collapsing in on itself. What once was flesh, became ash and what once was a giant human being was no more than dust scattered lifeless on the wooden floor.
Still the spectacle barely stirred the crowd, most didn't even blink at the death of the familiar face, including Therese. However, the three on the far side of the table; the black man with the emerald eyes, the redhead in the beret and the man in the denim jacket shifted uncomfortably. "Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny." The Prince continued casually as if this was all in a days work; gesturing at Sabrina with no remorse for the life he just had snuffed out by his monstrous henchman. "Without a sire, most childer are doomed to walk the Earth, never knowing their place, their responsibility, and most importantly, they laws they must obey. Therefore, I have decided that..." Bradley's executioner gripped Sabrina's shoulder tightly and reached for his blade, but then suddenly the man in denim stood up and protested.
"This is bullshit!" The two others who were sitting with him grabbed and held him back. They were a mismatched trio, but seemed to be quite a tight knit group. Even though they held the outspoken back, the others still looked quite angry at the Prince. This also caused the rest to shift their attention toward them, Therese, and the two men sat next to her looked with disgust as if they were vagrants trashing their fancy meeting. The monstrous looking man who sat beside where Bradley was executed only shifted slightly with interest. The redhead who bore a great deal of cleavage and was essentially wearing a black and red corset and a short red silk skirt looked with a lustful stare. The man with the long flowing hair and goatee looked intrigued by the interruption. And finally the man with the dreads, long beard and straw hat just leaned back near the door as if he didn't really want to be here just shook his head.
The Prince stood silent for the moment, looking calculating at every member at the table, including Sabrina. After a brief moment, he continued, "If Mister Rodriguez would let me finish. I have decided to let this Kindred live. She shall be instructed in the ways of our kind and be granted the same rights. Let no one say that I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community." Sabrina was let go and she stumbled onto the floor, the force causing the remaining ashes to scatter as if Bradley had never existed.
"That concludes our business for tonight. I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I hope their significance is not lost." His volume decreases and he finished with, "Au revoir." With that the crowd disbursed, the lights turned off and the whelp was left in the dark with a gaping wound in her chest.
The grip of oblivion threatened her very existence again as she started to succumb to the wound/ Though before she once again fell into darkness, she heard a female voice speak. It was Therese asking, "My Prince, now about the matter of the thin-blood. How should we deal with him?"
The Prince replied, "Don't worry my dear, I have it all under control."
Chapter 3: Enthralled
“Mortals thought they were fighting their own wars, but it is
for us that they spilt their blood.”
-The Book of Nod
Fate once again pulled the deceased back from the grip of death. The cycle tiring on the soul. Sabrina woke up; however, this time, she felt whole, satiated and calm. Despite the horrors of last night (if now was any further along in time, it felt like it could have been weeks), she felt okay, physically at least. She was no longer dressed, laying naked on a fairly comfortable but somewhat lumpy mattress. She was in her apartment on the undressed twin bed.
She could see that it was night, now dark and silent. The room wasn't lit by anything except the clock radio, which was now no longer blinking and looked like it had been set, "7:07 PM". It had changed to just as she looked at it. But then she noticed another light, coming from the desk. As her eyes adjusted, she could see a green LED light blinking coming from the desk. Thee was a laptop that looked like it had seen better days sitting open. Seeing a laptop was pretty rare, her father had one for work. In fact, it looked surprisingly similar to the one on the desk. Same brand and color, but her father's laptop was in pristine condition, while this was pretty scuffed up and had cracks on the housing. There was also a pad of yellow and red lined paper sitting next to it with a pen resting on it. Other than those new additions, it seemed like she was alone.
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