The Still of the Night (Closed thread)

“Either police your territory or be replaced.” The words of Vladimir Rang in Nicholas’s head as he drove the knife into the man in the dark alleyway. The knife slid away out of sight and he stepped over the body casually kicking it out of his way. Straightening his long coat, Nicholas stepped back out into the crowds of the busy street. He slid a hand into the pocket of his tight jeans and pulled out his iPhone, texting for a cleanup crew. His victim had been a serial killer, but Nicholas did not feel like having the human police involved. Things were always easier policing their ranks before the coming out, before vampires had told the humans of their existence, and become “legal” citizens with all the rights and responsibilities included with that dubious honor. This had caused some leaders such as Nicholas to loosen their grip on their people, as a way to test human authority. As he suspected the fools were not up to the task of policing vampire kind. The drawback was that Nicholas had come under the scrutiny of the sentinels, and not just any Sentinel, Vladimir Himself, their leader. The vigilante justice of their people for more years than Nicholas could count the Sentinels had been Judge, Jury and executioners of vampire kind.

It was rare for one sentinel to be criticized by another, but that’s what had happened. Nicholas was technically not a sentinel any longer; he had revoked his title and responsibilities, instead opting to settle down in this Midwestern City. Sentinels revoked all rights to hold land, to lead a Vampire Kiss. Nicholas was tired of the constant travel. He had loved his life, but at a certain point, the constant movement, the never ending killing took its toll. He wasn’t sure that he agreed with Vlad’s assertion that he’d gone soft and forgotten his duty, for once a sentinel always a sentinel, even if he could no longer be called on to travel widely policing vampire kind. Vlad had simply meant that Nicholas knew better, should run a tighter ship than he was currently running. However all that being said, Nicholas knew there was at least some truth to it. Hence dispatching yet another serial killing vampire that the humans did not know how to deal with. The night swallowed Nicholas and he was gone.


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It was some time later that evening that Nicholas stood glaring down at Marcus, the manager of Life after Death, one of the many businesses that Nicholas found himself in the position of running, establishments that he had inherited when he had taken over as Master of the city, a role that he was still unsure he wanted. However, the story of how He became master of the city and why he stayed master is a long one and one perhaps for another time. Life after Death was a popular nightclub/gentleman’s club/casino, it did a little of everything. It was commonly known to be a play on both the fact that it catered mostly to the undead and other supernatural populations, but also a play on the Iron Maiden classic live album “Live after Death” The club specialized in featuring live music for their dancers, not just dance beats spun by a DJ. In his traveling days, Nicholas had played here more times than he could count; it was a little odd to him to be in the position of owning it now. All these thoughts flitted through his head as he continued to glare at Marcus.

The man fit every description of a smug, rich, in titled, unctuous, snob, and that was on a good day. However he was generally a good businessman, hence Nicholas not simply firing the arrogant ass. He wasn’t even moved by Nicholas’s glare, one of the few who wasn’t, slimy bastard. “Why do you need my opinion on the new hires?” Nicholas asked fighting to keep his voice calm, hard, he wished he did blank voice as well as Vladimir, and to most he was quite scary, but to Marcus he couldn’t pull it off, the man just got under his skin too much. He wasn’t particularly pleased with the fussy response. “You hire who you think best, and if I have an objection to it I’ll let you know.” With that Nicholas turned on his heal to return to playing with the band. A traveling musician had always been Nicholas’s cover as a Sentinel, his reason for moving from town to town when he did not want outed as the vigilante he was. Now that he was stable and staying in one city, he found that the guitar was something he still refused to give up, it was in his soul.


Nicholas returned to the stage where he faded into the background. Very few realized Nicholas’s role here, that he was the owner, and even fewer that he was the master of the city. They just thought him another dark haired guitarist in the band, until he was introduced and then they seemed to remember they knew him well, though not from his current position but rather as The Traveler, founder of the Travelers a very famous music group whose identities were highly secretive. It was only after the coming out of vampire kind that music critics had begun to connect the dots about a group like The Travelers, and that they might be vampires. It had always been Nicholas’s cover. So, even if the crowd recognized who he was, it wouldn’t be as the owner, or the master. It was a helpful situation for him, even if it seemed confusing on the surface.

There was tension in the air of the club that night. Nicholas had not yet identified the reason for it, though the large group of werepanthers that were at one table, glaring at a second table of werelions seemed to be the most obvious issue. They would both bare watching, especially since it did not appear that Jacob Louis the panther king was present. Gerald, the Lion’s rex was and he was counting on that fact to keep a fight from starting. He wondered who would be performing that would bring in both groups. The Panthers were a common site as they flocked to Nicholas and were the dominant group in the area, part of the reason for Nicholas choosing this town, but what brought the lions. It was probably one of the dancers, if he had to guess. He scanned the human population of the club as well. Something wasn’t right here but it could be something other than the obvious as well.

Jayne Le’Blanc or J as they called her, stared at Henry her balding boss at the Daily Chronicle with a look of utter disgust upon her features. “I have been on this paper for two years, and covered every backwater, new age, hip hop, and preppy dance club you've ever fucking asked me to do. I put in for the traveling job, and you can't consider it because I've gained such a following. What happened to the corporate mantra of wanting to see us advance our careers and take them to the next level?"

"I'm sorry J" The middle age overweight Italian man said from behind his desk.

"I'm not going to take our hottest section and turn it over to a rookie, because you want to travel. We have to put the needs of the paper first."

"So what if i quit and tell you to shove this up your ass?' she questioned her Emerald eyes blazing back at him through a strand of purple hair.

"Then you'll never work in this town again, and you'll have no reference."

"you'd really fuck me over like that?"

"Yes, just like you leaving would fuck this paper out of its highest rated section."

"Karma asshole" she exclaimed taking her assignment off his desk and storming out of his office with the much needed and anticipated slamming of his door. The whole office stopped and stared silently.

J was the only one that wasn’t afraid of him. In this day and age writers were fighting to keep their jobs. But J knew that between her blog and social media feeds she was golden. The problem was she needed the salary she got from the paper in order to balance out her bills. No one else dared to face the man they called "The Godfather" behind his back.

Grabbing her satchel denim purse knocking her chair over she headed down to the street. Normally she would grab a cab but she needed to expend some of her anger with a brisk walk the five miles to her apartment.

By the time she reached the old house that had been restored into two apartments she was out of breath. Unlocking and re-bolting the door she headed up the stairs to her apartment. It wasn't much to look at but it was quiet, cheap, and had rent control. She found the old place when she had finished college. It suited her, cracks in some walls, yet sturdy and durable.
She wasn't much on the idea of themed decorating. Over the years she had collected pieces which she liked. It was a mismatch haven.

After a shower, she changed into what she called her goth wear. A long black skirt, her combat boots, and a tank top that had a lace over shirt. Her newly streaked purple hair afforded her the ability to fit in anywhere. Even a goth club. The only downfall was she was bound to be hit on. The last thing she wanted was a man. She had spent her days hiding from the world behind books. The male characters gave her the envisionment of what a man should be. In her experience thus far, that’s not the way it worked out. Like most people she had a past, and didn’t want to add any more mistakes to it.

Making her way outside she hailed a Taxi to the club called Life After Death. Even though the series True Blood was over, the fad was still there. Always waiting and hoping for a new vampire series to come out.

As she stepped from the cab she made notice of the outside. The building looked like it had been spray painted black. The sign was a 70’s neon style that just looked stupid in her opinion. Though there was no line on a Friday night. So how good could it really be?

Still it was a supposed hot spot, so it must be covered. Sighing she walked past the doorman who held up his hand and asked for ID. Being only 5’4 and 24 she did look younger then she was. She liked to wear over-sized clothes to ensure that she wasn’t unconsciously giving out the wrong signals.

Making her way through the vampire wannabees she found a table in a back corner that gave her ample view of the dance floor, the bar, the stage, and everything in between. She liked to sit with her back against the wall to ensure no one could come behind her.

Placing her old dell on the table she opened it up and brought up word to start writing. The first words she typed was ‘this place sucks just like my idiot boss’. It gave her a slight chuckle before she erased it and started writing.

This wasn't a simple Goth'club' as she was led to believe. This was more of an upscale nightclub &casino combo., it did have a good sized dance floor, and a stage. Well at least they had a live band she mused. Putting on her ugliest pair of glasses that she could purchase she began to type. J didn't need glasses. They were just part of her 'don't approach me' attitude she devised to stay hidden from the world.

"Gina" she looked up her ice blue eyes staring from out of her glasses for a moment and then back down realizing it was someone else being addressed. She couldn't believe she had even looked. She hadn't been addressed as Gina since she changed her name to Jayne and went into hiding from her abusive ex boyfriend. A different city, a different time and it was the past. She told herself as she practiced her breathing montage. If only her boss would give her the traveling job she wouldn't have to worry about him finding her.

Shaking her head and taking a deep breath she looked around and found herself amused at the mixture of people that began to enter. There were rough biker looking guys, there were gentleman in suits, there were both goth males and females, and a few women that were clearly stuck in the eighties.

Her eyes went back to her laptop as she began to write the review for her assignment.

The outside was cheesy; it probably hadn’t been renovated since the early 80’s. This was very deliberate on behalf of the management. Prior to the coming out, it was a way for the supernatural to have a place to go that others would see as a dive, Goth club, and promptly avoid. All of the renovating had taken place inside and it truly was like stepping into a totally different establishment.

As he worked on tuning his Gipson, Nicholas’s dark eyes watched the crowd form. There were humans, goths and vampire wannabees, they walked among the supernatural and had no real clue that they were beside.

The table of yuppie looking professionals all in suits was the panthers. Often times a group took after their leader in appearance. Jacob Louis was a former detective, polished and put together. He had gotten most of his men respectable jobs that required a suit and tie. So even though he wasn’t present, his influence could still be felt in the way his men looked. No one could mistake how tough that group was, even if they would dismiss them at first glance and be more afraid of the lions. They were still a large group of extremely well built men; the tailored suits couldn’t hide that.

His eyes flicked to the biker looking types. Just as the panthers followed in Louis’s footsteps, thus did the lions. Gerald didn’t bother to hide his full sleeves of tattoos, leather, and don’t fuck with me attitude. Both groups were equally as lethal, but Nicholas smirked to see that the humans seemed to avoid the lions, but was less threatened by the suited panthers.

Nicholas’s gaze missed almost nothing in his territory, even if he often went unnoticed. His eyes swept to the farthest corner where a woman sat with a laptop. He frowned just a little, such a sight was rare, and how had she even gotten such a thing passed the bouncer. Wasn’t that idiot Buzz supposed to keep out recording devices, just encase something supernatural went down? Memories believe it or not were easier to fog over than photos. The coming out had been months ago, and yes it had been public. However the true ramifications of it hadn’t truly circulated yet. To many people it was just something that happened in Washington DC. Throughout many cities vampire kind was still a mystery. Nicholas was alright with that. He knew the reasons that the Blackstone council came out to the humans. He knew of Xavier Vladimir’s mortal enemy, and the mass killings that had forced vampires into the open, but like most Americans the greater the distance from the center of the issue, the less truth abounded and the more rumors held sway. He would therefore be wise to keep an eye on this woman, what could she want. Perhaps he should ask for a meeting.

Nicholas came out of his reverie as Byron, the band’s singer gestured him to attention, and it was time to play. And as the first dancer came on stage Nicholas had one answer to his unease about the evening. It was none other than Lady Jenna, Gerald’s wife, the lion’s Regina or queen. This caused murmurs of Regina or sometimes even Gina, for those that thought the woman’s title was her name, to go through the room. He was unaware that someone had booked her as a guest dancer tonight. It took only a few more seconds for Nicholas to put the rest of the pieces together. This was Friday; the usual star of Fridays was Helen, one of the high ranking females for the panthers. Someone had screwed up badly. All it would take is for one of the panthers, who were missing their leader, to get hands and try to touch Lady Jenna, and Gerald would go ballistic. This didn’t just have barroom brawl written over it, but potential massacre. Nicholas tensed his muscles preparing for the worst. His eyes flicked again to the woman in the corner; surely she couldn’t be a journalist, right? That’s all they would need both to have what would look like a gang war, and to have it recorded for the news.

Nicholas stepped further into the shadows to continue playing, sure that if things did erupt that his cover as just a band player would be blown, and that someone’s head would roll for this mistake.

Something was off, something was tense. J didn't like conflict. The idea of being near violence of any sort sent her into a panic. She had gotten all she needed and quickly saved her work. She gathered her things so quickly she dropped a business card when she was fishing inside her bag for her wallet. Throwing a 5 on the table for a tip for the water, she stuffed her laptop in the bag missing the card, and bolted.

Once she got out side she gasped at the cool night air trying to calm herself. 'you're fine, you're fine, you're fine' she repeated in her mind getting her breathing under control. Hailing a taxi, she headed for home. Her secluded apartment wait for her with open arms. Providing that sense of security she so needed.

She made a ritual of double checking that it was bolted, that the windows were locked and that everything was how she left it. "Issues" she said to herself out loud as she sunk into her couch. "i have issues.". Her mind wandered to her take of the club she had left. It was truly one of the oddest locations she had been through. Something was off about it. It was strange enough to gnaw at her, but not enough to give her any resolution.

"Too many different people" she said out loud. Opening her laptop she brought up the article she had started. "it has the vibe of an upscale goth club with enough of a twist to attract businessmen?" 'Was it a front for prostitution or drugs? Though none of the girls seemed like hookers, perhaps they were upscale escorts?' she wondered. Then there was that surge of fear and panic that hit her like a brick.
Of course she had left before she could discover what that was about. "Doesn't matter J, you're just to write another puff piece."

A couple hours later she had her article finished and sent off. Curling up in her bed she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off into a deep slumber. As she dreamed she found herself back in the club. This time there was only one man on stage with a guitar. He was tall thin, but built dark hair, and his eyes they seemingly bore into her soul. They looked black from where she sat, but some how she knew they were a dark blue.

There was a feeling of safety that washed over her. Yet somehow she knew she was suppose to be afraid. "Run" he said to her breaking the silence. In no time she was running faster then she ever had. A dark shadow loomed over her closing in, cutting off her air.. 'can't breath, can't breath" J sat up gasping loudly in the silent darkness of her room. Tear running down her face as she tried to recenter herself. Even he, the stranger in her dreams, he couldn't save her.

It didn’t take long for the night to go to shit, just as Nicholas had suspected it might. A panther reached out to try to grab Lady Jenna and Gerald lost his shit. Nicholas hated being right sometimes.

The band switched songs mid tune and it was a cue and bouncers moved to usher human clientele out of the bar so they wouldn’t see anything. As they did this the band went to break up the bar room brawl. It seemed a strange division of labor to those that didn’t know that the entire band were vampires, and powerful ones at that. Stronger than most of the bouncers believe it or not.

Nicholas ran point for the band, but fortunately hours later when the whole thing was over and he and the band were picking up, Nicholas had not in fact been outed. Nicholas had kicked Gerald’s ass and after that the lions who respected strength had backed off. The panthers had backed down when Nicholas told them to lay off. Some questioned why they listened to him but not that closely. Jacob Lewis had showed up half way through the fight and took over controlling his men.

Nicholas was stacking chairs when one of his employees brought him a business card. “From the corner sir.” He raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “You know where that lady with the computer was sitting. I think she left before it all went down but I can’t confirm she did.”

Nicholas stroked his chin in thought as he accepted the card with his other hand. He would have to check this out. Footage or a story about the fight would not be good. The smashed tables, chairs and outraged human customers were bad enough. “I will look into it,” he finally said. Pushing the card into his pocket he put the woman out of his mind, for now.

Later as Nicholas sat on his bike preparing to seek out the woman he took the card into his hand using his powers to seek her energy left on the card. It drew him into a strange place, a dreamlike state. He could not see where she was, but he could sense something dark seeking her out. He tried to warn her even as he kick started his motorcycle. He had a sense of her, he could track her now. Tracking energy was not as effective as a blood trail if he’d drunk from her or given her his blood, but he was once a sentinel he could do it. He had a sense of urgency now. There was more here than met the eye.

The bike moved through the dimly lit streets as he drove, the night wind caressing his face. He was soon at a door knocking. What he planned to say to this woman he really had not planned, but he was here. He stood there waiting to see if she would answer. There was no longer any sign that he had been in a fight, he healed quickly and had changed. He would just ask her if she had enjoyed herself at the club. He had felt drawn to her. Surely that wouldn’t sound too creepy, right?

Deciding that sleep wasn't an option she let her floor hit the floor and said "Alexa turn lights on" The lights came on and she padded her way into the kitchen and ran the water splashing some on her face to help wash away the dreary that gloomed over her like a shadow.

A knock on the door startled her. Looking up at the clock she saw 2:30, then looked to the door. Grabbing a knife from the counter she walked cautiously to the door, her heart racing. Peering through the peep hole she saw him. The man from her dreams, the man she had saw briefly in the club.

It was a weird calmness that came over her, as if she knew him, as if there was nothing unusal about this man she'd never spoken to arriving at her door. Still she was cautious. Keeping the top chain on she unlocked the rest and opened it just enough to speak through.

"What are you doing here?, how did you find me?, and what would possess you to knock on my door at two thirty in the morning?

Nicholas realized as she opened the door how little he had actually planned for this moment. What was he going to tell her?

Not having a plan had never stopped him before so he opened his mouth and the words poured out like honey. “I am sorry to disturb you my lady.” He held up her business card, “You left a business card in the club tonight.” He explained, “Google was helpful enough to provide your home address when some of the work details were put in.” In that moment he wished he had thought to simply google her, it could have saved some magic. However he would not have had that sense of her that drew him in. “Anyway my lady, I know how strange this seems but.” He paused, “Anyway there was an incident that occurred at the bar tonight and we are checking in on people we knew were in attendance tonight, to make sure they were unharmed, or what they might have seen.” He hoped his blend of half-truths and smooth talking passed her tests though did find that he felt silly for coming here on a whim, in the middle of the night.

He did manage not to laugh at her attempt to keep him out with her pitiful chain lock, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a kitchen knife. Just who was she expecting to come knock on her door at this hour? Was she perhaps that paranoid?

"I don't have an online presence. Even my work only has a po box." (That was the actual truth because she was deeply paranoid of being located or having her new identity discovered.) "With that said, I left early I didn't see anything, though i did feel the tension so I left."

That should have been it, but instead she found herself saying "Who are you, and Why do i feel like I know you."

He paused at her comment about an online presence. Well there went that lie. “I have my sources.” He mumbled and shrugged that off. She didn’t seem intent on pressing him for more details about that so he too let it drop.

“Me, I’m just a member of the band at life after death.” He shrugged, “Do I have one of those faces that look like everyone else?” he asked. That last was clearly not true, even in the dim lighting he seemed intense, mysterious and anything from ordinary. He leaned closer as if letting her examine his face more clearly. He didn’t ask for her to invite him in that might set off even more alarm bells.

“We’re glad to hear that you didn’t see anything. But tell me, how did you sense tension, what was it that made you leave?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He at least managed to make it a question not a demand.

She frowned slightly. Why was he glad she hadn't seen anything? wasn't that the point of his visit so she could supply him with details. "Body language" she said lightly. "The way someone furrows their brows, clenches their fist, the vein in the neck, the stare where most of the white of your eyes show, these are red flags to me. Well, nothing to report, sorry you wasted a trip."

He hadn't offered his name, which kept her guard up. Even though his face seemed to coincide with a security she hadn't felt in ages. She stood there staring as if she was waiting for something, some reason to let him in. Some reason to close the door, or maybe he would just walk away and she could close it.

Nicholas listened to her, “You sound like you are very good at reading people. Has that always been your gift, or does that come with being a journalist?” He seemed to be ignoring the fact that they were talking at after 2 in the morning, separated by a chain lock. He could use someone like her in his employ. It seemed like he was surrounded by idiots like who ever had arranged the dancers that night. Perhaps he should have said he’d have a larger role in the hiring of staff. Maybe he could hire her and fire that idiot Marcus.

He wished that he could see her more clearly. He finally extended the business card to her even as he spoke asking her more questions. It was the one she had left, though on the back he had written his name Nicholas and a phone number. He abruptly stopped talking, “Forgive me, I should not ask you all this now it is late. I would love to learn more about you though, if you are ever in Live after Death again, maybe I could buy you a drink or meal?”

"Has that always been your gift, or does that come with being a journalist?”

She wasn't sure how to answer that question. What was she suppose to say to this man that somehow tracked her down at 2 in the morning? So instead she simply nodded letting him believe what he wished.

“Forgive me, I should not ask you all this now it is late. I would love to learn more about you though, if you are ever in Live after Death again, maybe I could buy you a drink or meal?”

Why do you want to know more about me? Why would you want to have a meal or drink with me? You obviously know that i'm a journalist and was just there for a review. I'm not sure how you tracked me down, or who hired you to find me."