《VTM: The Forgotten Ahrimane》


 Prologue

    It was around 4AM as a black Harley Sport Glide rumbled off the interstate under a beautiful full moon. Its rider had come south along I-87 from Canada with everything she owned on her back and within the saddle bags of her bike. The atmosphere was tense as the bike maneuvered into the sleeping commercial district off the interstate highway somewhere in rural Vermont. The machine under her had not been expecting such a run after being in the garage for the last year as its owner was overseas but once past the border and able to go at full speed the kinks were ironed out and it ran just as well as it did the day its owner stole it. Why was the rider running south with everything she owned? Well that was a terrible story and not one the rider felt the need to contemplate at this time¡­ no she needed to put distance between herself and the Inquisition that had overrun the haven in Montreal. Even as she had arrived, wife in tow from their honeymoon in Sweden, things were in an uproar. The members of the Sect who hadn¡¯t been drawn to the brewing war in the Middle East hadn¡¯t been enough to hold back the violence that came for them. For so long the Temple of Eternal Whispers had only feared the encroachment of the wolves and maybe the fools in Toronto but no¡­ it was the humans who put to flame and sword the bastion of Enlightenment. Revenge was not on her mind currently, nothing would bring back her beloved, her pack, her life¡­ no right now she just needed to put the miles behind her and then reassess her options.


    Checking her wrist for the time, the rider realized that she would need a place to stay before the damnable sun rose. Sure she could embrace her feral nature and just hide underground like a dog but no she had tastes and quite enjoyed not having to rough it so a motel it was. Thankfully America was the land of long haul drivers and interstate pull offs always had some sort of cheap fare for the non fussy traveler. So it was a ratty motel for her! Stopping at a light she looked at the dark streets as traffic was starting to wake up for the poor morning shift folks and she realized that this was her first time state-side in years. It was amazing how one could grow up on the west coast, die in Detroit, learn to live again in Georgia, travel to Montreal to join what was essentially a commune of high functioning psychopaths, get married in Scandinavia, come back just to run back across the border again. Life and Unlife was like sometimes. Though as she thought about it the images of her burning Wife¡­ the screams of pain¡­ being unable to save those that relied on her would have made a mortal shake and cry. Thankfully she couldn¡¯t cry¡­ she couldn¡¯t break down yet as you never knew when the bastards would catch up or find her, if they were even looking for her. After all, what could a single broken Ductus even do?


    Thankfully the light turned green before the dark thoughts could consume her and so she pulled off into the parking lot of a trash motel. Finding a spot to park, the rider checked her backpack to make sure the ceramic bottle was still intact safely in her clothes and then started her trip to the front door. Before then though she looked at an empty spot in space and whispered softly to something that wasn¡¯t there. The air grew cold suddenly but that just meant that whatever heard the request agreed. Her bike would remain safe for the day while she laid in torpor¡­ Nobody would be able to steal from her without consequences. Pulling off her helmet a pair of ears popped up before being hidden again underneath a beanie and then the hood of her black hoodie. Nobody needed to see that, though even if they did they might just come to silly conclusions like cosplay or something. The rider was absolutely not against playing up the stereotypes of a young Asian woman if they helped protect her inhuman identity. Frenzy was a bitch and when you ran with a rough crowd as a Gangrel you collected weirdness along the way. At least she had once been a Gangrel before her second rebirth. Her kind was almost extinct, the last one she knew having burned in the defense of the Temple. Even as they started to creep in, the unwanted thoughts were chased away by a growl that if a human had heard it might send their primitive monkey brains into panic. She was no longer one of them and hadn¡¯t been for quite a long time and some things that were normal for her would cause unwanted reactions in the mortals.


    Shaking her head she stuffed the motorcycle helmet into the saddlebag before locking it up. Then she secured her backpack and headed inside to get a room before that hateful ball of fire came up. All it took was a sniff to know that only one human was in range and after turning her golden eyes in their direction she found the front attendant. Normal... boring... they looked tired which she could relate to. With a practiced breath to help keep the Masquerade she walked up to the clerk before pulling out her wallet.


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    ¡°One room for the day please¡­¡± She asked, testing her fake youthful voice and finding that her lack of an accent meant the clerk could understand her desires despite the fact that the clerk looked half asleep.


    ¡°60 bucks and you need to be out by 7PM or additional charges will be applied.¡± The response was with the same excitement that any 3rd shifter at the end of a shift would have. The rider nodded in acceptance before handing over cold hard American cash, signing in, and then taking the key card. The attendant had requested an ID but after a closed smile and a bit of supernatural pressure the topic died. Finishing with a nod the rider walked away towards the empty hallways leaving the attendant alone. Despite not seeing the reaction the rider could tell that the attendant had released a shaky breath, unaware of why the sudden fear had overcame them. The rider had that effect on people even when not using her powers, after all the prey always knew when the predator was looking at them. Silly monkey brains.


    Eventually she arrived at her room and after entering was met with the smells of previous inhabitants. Wrinkling her nose a bit she lifted her hood back and pulled her cat eared beanie off before looking in the small mirror in the bathroom. What met her were golden eyes, a youthful face that wouldn¡¯t look out of place on the streets of Tokyo, and red fox-like ears poking out of her head. Said ears were constantly twitching at the sounds of humanity waking up outside and their owner sighed. Attempting a smile only showed fangs that she had never been able to retract giving her a feral expression until she closed her mouth. Not having to breath helped and hopefully she could play her features off as eccentric and not supernatural. Having spent so many years with the Sabbat had really affected her ability to appear normal and if she wanted to survive in this new world she needed to learn again. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her as she turned away from the mirror and took in the small room. This was the first day she had slept along in what felt like years and despite torpor being dreamless she almost wished for a nightmare just to see her precious Astrid again. Not the nightmarish image of her burning but happy memories. Those of the young Cainite chasing a rabbit for the first time for blood¡­ Those of the pair hosting drinking parties in the Pack house¡­ those of the pair laying together in bed joined by blood and love.


    Crossing the room she closed the blinds and made sure to set up the blackout curtains before setting her backpack on the bed. Pulling out the ceramic bottle she sat down still fully clothed and checked the wax seal to make sure the contents were still good before puncturing the seal with a fang and releasing the sent of preserved blood into the air. While not thirsty she had been a Cainite long enough to know that keeping a full tank was good. Thaumaturgy was something she had been proud of and the ability to preserve blood was unique to her. It was a ritual stolen from a Setite, or were they called the Ministry or some shit now? Whatever, she didn¡¯t care about the game of politics the other clans played. Without ever having to turn on the room¡¯s lights she laid back on the bed and took a long drink from the bottle and sighed. It was a human reaction but now that their Sect wasn¡¯t around she needed to learn how to pretend to blend in again. A fox among chickens trying to pretend to cluck and lay eggs. It was preposterous but now that the 2nd Inquisition was a thing she wouldn¡¯t have a choice in the matter. It was time to plan¡­ the world was more dangerous now than it had ever been and with the Sabbat off doing God knows what overseas she was alone. Taking a final drink she put the bottle away as it could be reused when it was time to bleed the chickens again and rested her head against the lumpy pillow. Not that comfort mattered during torpor.


    ¡°I¡¯m still Yuiko¡­¡± She tested her voice again trying to prepare her will for what the next night would bring. ¡°Crimson Eclipse might be gone¡­ the Sabbat might have fled¡­ my bloodline is nearly dead¡­ and my options limited but I¡¯m still here and I won¡¯t be forgotten.¡± After the mantra she closed her eyes and let the new day still her mind and body. She would sleep but the world would not forget about her. She would start over again and even if the Inquisition wasn¡¯t a valid revenge target the ones who hunted her sisters down would. All those years ago when she returned to the clan house to find it on fire and all of her sisters gone. She would find them, make them suffer, and then rebuild. The line of Muricia would not end with her. The Ivory Tower, the wannabe rebels, the Sabbat, not even the world coming to an end would stop her. Good morning World of Darkness...

 Chapter 1

    Most vampires consider members of the Sabbat to be nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters and in some regards that is correct. We are the Sword of Caine after all, violence is something each of us is familiar with. The problem comes in that most only see us in the light of shovel-heads and blood rituals. A bit on both of those though¡­ Shovel-Head is the term used for mass embraces during times of conflict. The tradition is to get a bunch of folks, mass embrace them, and then bury them while dead into pits near enemy lines. The thought is that the bunch of angry, starving, childer come digging their way out and head for the enemy lines to feed. Those that survive the encounter are taken in and trained. I have only seen it done once and it was during an assault on Toronto and it wasn¡¯t pretty, nor did any of the newborn blood suckers come back. C¡¯est la vie as they say. Blood Rituals though are something I¡¯m intimately familiar with. There are the Auctoritas Ritae, think of them like church rituals and there are 13 of them. The most famous of course is the Binding which involves the collective pooling of the Sect¡¯s blood to create a watered down blood bind between all the members in attendance. The lesser rites or the Ignoblis Ritae are pack rituals. My pack, the Crimson Eclipse had a few of our own, though they mostly just involved sex, blood, and drugs. You can¡¯t imagine the trouble a pack of vampires whose blood is impotent will get into.


    Back to the original thought though. Sure we deserve a lot of our bad rep but there was more to the Sabbat than blood thirsty psychopaths preparing to fight a war at the end of the world. We were scholars, historians, priests, warriors, and family. Montreal was special¡­ Our Temple was the center of learning for our Sect. Sure we did terrible things to the mortals but their lives are fleeting anyways. My pack studied Paths and Thaumaturgy and despite what the Tremere thought we could match them in Blood Rituals and Magic. Now though it was all gone. Burned by the Inquisition as they cleared us out of our stronghold. I managed to save a few things including the artifacts I had created through the use of Spirit Thaumaturgy but I gave up quite a bit. Most of my books, my home, and the love of my life. Yes we can have romantic attachments, there are even Rituals for it. Goes to show that even monsters have deep inner lives I guess.


    So where does that leave me? Somewhere in southern New York state on the back of my motorcycle heading south. The Sabbat had fled to join the Crusade thanks to the Beckoning and despite having been in a relatively high position as the Ductus of a powerful pack back in Montreal I refused. As an Ahrimane my blood ties are relatively weak due to the nature of what we are and how we were made. That is why I¡¯m heading south¡­ Many years ago before moving to Montreal I was a Sister in our commune. We were all Gangrel, gathered together to become something new. By Blood Rituals, which I still carry with me, we were separated from our previous clan and given a new family. Kinda culty right? Well said cult was better to me than the mangy Gangrel pack I had been reborn into. They gave me the thing I wanted more than anything¡­ a connection to Gaia again. Then they were taken away from me. I am pretty sure I know by who, at least kinda. As we came from Gangrel and tended to run mercenary missions for the Sabbat I¡¯m fairly certain it was Gangrel who took my sisters away. So now that the Sabbat is off fighting in the Old World it¡¯s time to wage my own war here in the New World. Step one, get as far away from the humans that torched the temple. Step two is to return to my old stomping grounds. Step three is to find out if anyone remembers my sisters and acquire a target. Step four is to kill that target.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I honestly had no idea what I was going to do after that if I survived though. Maybe start a new family? I had the rituals for how to turn female Gangrel¡¯s into Ahrimane but was there a place for us in this world? Maybe thoughts for later. I¡¯m sure my mom and brothers are still alive back on the West Coast. Shifters didn¡¯t age like humans did but odds are they would just kill me on sight if I showed up. I¡¯m wyrm-ridden after all and even if I can speak with and work with Spirits unlike other Cainites I¡¯m still the enemy. It¡¯s kinda sad that the only human child of a Kitsune mother turned into a vampire. It was getting early and it seems I didn¡¯t plan my trip nearly as well as the first day because there was no interstate pull off this time with a cheap motel to crash in. Seems I was post coal parts of the state so with nothing legit on the horizon it was time to find me somewhere abandoned and bunker down.


    The motorcycle pulled off the main road and into the ghost town. All around me were images of the 70s with the main street looking like it came right out of Silent Hill, without the fog thankfully. Shuttered stores, abandoned rust buckets and after pulling up my visor and sniffing the air no humans were in range. While sipping on meth heads isn¡¯t my idea of quality dining a girl had to eat so it seemed like it would be another bottle night for me. At the rate I was going the next human I found might need to be fully drained to refill my stores but hunting would be pushed to the side in favor of a safe place to sleep.


    Said place came into view about 7 minutes later in the form of an old gas station. Those things always had a cooler space out of sight of the sun so maybe my luck was going up? Pulling my bike up behind the building I turned it off and checked my bag first to make sure I did indeed have a bottle of the thaumaturgically preserved red stuff as well as a weapon. Said weapon came in the form of a curved single edged short sword that screamed weeaboo. Unlike the trash you buy on the internet though this one was sharp and a pretty vicious spirit of death was bound to it. While it didn¡¯t look threatening, the wounds it inflicted refused to heal and could cut even Garou hide when activated. It though wasn¡¯t my only tool. With a hum the air next me shimmered before a spirit in the same of a cougar materialized. My bloodline provided many special tools and one of them was the ability to summon spirits to my aid and this beauty was Nala and she was a good girl.


    ¡°Nala, check the perimeter and see if anything harmful is around. I¡¯m going in to see if we have a place to sleep today.¡± My helmet came off allowing my cursed ears to scan the area like radar dishes before heading inside. Hopefully the storage area was still intact because I didn¡¯t want to sleep underground as the dirt always got into my clothes. Next to me the spirit cat nodded and then slinked off with mischief on her feline face.

 Chapter 2

    Wasn¡¯t this place supposed to be abandoned? Well it kind of was if you didn¡¯t count the spawn of the Wyrm to be people. Why was it here though?


    I had only just started to scout the abandoned gas station when a wave of nausea struck me. First all, my body isn¡¯t alive so that shouldn¡¯t happen and two the source wasn¡¯t readily apparent. Having not even stepped inside my feet held back at the entrance and my right hand went down to my blade and drew it. Nala hadn¡¯t come back yet so nothing was found on the spirit¡¯s end but something here had my heckles raised. Crouching down by the door I slowly pushed it open with my free hand before looking into the inky gloom. Nothing seemed to be there even though the door wasn¡¯t locked. Something might have come through here in the past but the place was dusty enough to have not seen life in awhile. Let¡¯s try a different method, so running a bit of will through my eyes I activated my Hermetic Sight. The basic application of the Thaumaturgical path of Spirit Manipulation allowed me to peek through the veil and what I saw was not an abandoned gas station. Sure the station was there but it wasn¡¯t anything man made that caught my attention. The dust wasn¡¯t just due to age but black like coal tar and the walls were dripping with what seemed like thick oily sludge.


    For anyone who had played games like Warhammer the Umbra was similar to the Warp from what I understood. Emotions, trauma, life all imprinted onto the Umbra and reflected it. This being an abandoned coal town explained the dirty feeling the Umbra had. I¡¯m not a bleeding heart environmentalist but even I know in my non beating heart that sort of activity wasn¡¯t good for Gaia. The griminess though wouldn¡¯t cause the Beast to react¡­ Something else was here that was a threat. Do I find a new place to sleep? The sun was set to come up within an hour so there was plenty of time to find somewhere new but what if the whole town was like this? Think, think Yuiko¡­ My thoughts were interrupted though by a growl behind me as Nala came back with what appeared to be an oily looking oversized beetle and that sealed it. This place was infested and I wasn¡¯t getting a good day of sleep unless I cleared it out myself.


    ¡°Damnit Nala, couldn¡¯t you catch me something that had blood at least?¡± Despite sounding upset, the oversized house cat knew I was just tired. She was quite proud of herself for catching the Wyrm spawn and bringing it back. ¡°I¡¯m not eating that thing girl¡­ I don¡¯t care if I have the power for it. That thing looks like the inside of a public toilet.¡± My response caused Nala to chuff before dropping the corrupted spirit. My foot came down to stop it into spiritual powder before deciding it was time to put my big girl pants on. Blade in hand and cougar at my back I stayed low and entered the small building. Almost instantly I regretted as the noise we made outside the entrance had caught the attention of whatever had been in here. A shovel came at my head from the ambush and only my Celerity prevented a busted face. Diving to the side the improvised weapon smashed into the door frame as a humanoid creature in craggy oily skin came into view. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Nala took point and leaped onto the wyrm ridden creature with her massive paws taking it off balance and onto the ground. The creature didn¡¯t scream as the massive predatory kitty snapped at it with her fangs but the noise it made didn¡¯t make me feel any better for it. It gurgled like it had lung cancer so call me chemo because as soon as Nala had it pinned down my blade came down onto its face pinning in underneath the supernatural sharpness the artifact possessed. Then with a hiss of irritation because this was not the meal I wanted this morning my fist was driven into its chest. The feeling of its carapse shattering felt nasty on my hand but as a spirit being this thing didn¡¯t stand a chance against my Spiritus. Engling Fury burned some of my Vitae and the creature was ripped apart as my vampiric power devoured it. The taste was disgusting and felt more like trying to drink the used oil from a fast food place than actual food. Either way though the creature dispersed and at least I wouldn¡¯t have to touch my preserved blood supply.


    Picking myself up the hand that was previously inside the chest of what I think was a Scrag was placed on Nala¡¯s head to give her a bit of a floofing. ¡°Well that was a thing¡­ Maybe a local Garou pack hasn¡¯t cleared this area yet? Maybe if they stopped harassing innocent Cainites they would do their Gaia-forsaken job. No wonder she cursed the lot.¡± I had a love-hate relationship with my cousins. As a kid growing up in a Fera household I had wished dearly for my first change but when it didn¡¯t happen I had a chip on my shoulder. As an Ahrimane I have some powers that they do but they don¡¯t see me as an ally. As that oversized dick in Canada stated while I tried to negotiate a ceasefire between them and the Sabbat, ¡®You smell just like wyrm so you die like wyrm¡¯. Well if the rage puppies didn¡¯t want my help then I would help myself to devouring their enemy. Maybe Gaia would forgive my transgressions if I destroyed her enemies? Who knows, the gods have spoken to me since I died the first time and I don¡¯t expect that to change.


    ¡°Come with me girl, let¡¯s find a hole to sleep in.¡± A little more petting the cougar vanished until she was needed again and I headed to the back of the building in hopes of finding a safe place to bed down. Where one Scrag was there might be more but with day coming they would be as limited as I was.

 Chapter 3

    Sleeping in an inactive ice box is not something I¡¯m proud of¡­ Not even if the outdated cans of beer were even still good. Not like I could drink them anyways as I wasn¡¯t fortunate enough to be blessed with the ability to consume food and drink. With the Scag earlier part of me was fearful of trying to sleep but thankfully there was enough stuff to pile in front of the cooler to keep anything out long enough for Nala to sic em. I would need to make sure to provide some vitae to her to keep her under contract because this would have been a lot harder without someone to have my back. Sleeping was the time when we were most vulnerable and while I was confident that I could instinct myself way through a torpor disrupted induced Frenzy I didn¡¯t want to test it with the sun out.


    Waking up for a Cainite was not like waking up for humans. We didn¡¯t have an in between period of sleep and waking, it was pretty jarring. Our bodies forcefully burn a bit of Vitae and compel us to continue. I don¡¯t remember the first few times I woke up from Torpor. I didn¡¯t exactly have the best early undead existence. My first pack was the stereotypical Sabbat Gangrel pack and my frenzy marks were duly earned. Night in and out they would starve me before tossing me a homeless person who I would kill like a frenzied beast. By the time my Sister¡¯s found me I was less than human and only by their mercy was I dragged from the dark. Now here I was again sleeping in abandoned buildings but unlike last time I wasn¡¯t weak. First of the day''s events was to pet Nala before cutting my palm with one of my permanent fangs. Then I offered her the dark thick vitae as a snack in order to extend our contract another week. Once the timer was reset I allowed her to fade back into the Umbra and await my needs.


    Next was whether to continue my trip south or deal with the wyrm taint in this abandoned town. Did I want to wander a mine looking for the epicenter of the infection? Hell no, why not leave it for those whose job it was? Then again part of me felt like it was my job too¡­ I had the power to cleanse the freaks and it would be a good mark on my Karma if I did so. My conscience told me to do it as well as I would be upholding the Harmony of the area by clearing it of the filth and corruption. The Beast though told me it was none of my business and it would be a waste of resources. My hunt was elsewhere. Both were right of course but it would be a sin against my Path to leave this place in the hands of the Corrupter so with a bit of reluctance it was time to hunt down and devour the source.


    ¡°Nala, stay on the lookout. Looks like we have a side quest.¡± My shadow nodded and I started to get ready for the purge. Heading out of the gas station and towards my bike I would need a few things first. Remember when I said I had a few bound artifacts? Well I had eight of them but most wouldn¡¯t be useful. First was my sword, then was my wedding ring, third were my boots, then I had a pair of biker gloves with steel plates on the back of them, my cellphone was enchanted, I had a book of rituals that continued a spirit of knowledge, my bike had a spirit of wind, and finally the last item I pulled out of my saddle bag. It was a Japanese made Kitsune, almost like my mom would let us wear during festival season. It¡¯s purpose was to obscure my identity when I readied for war and a fight with the wyrm counted right? It was black with gold outlining and decorated with red ribbon looking rather stylish when worn with my hood up like I was some kind of anime protagonist. Yes I do play into my own stereotype, the other Ductus claimed I was naive and childish but jokes on them I¡¯m alive and they are ashes right now. Guess I did win in the end despite my loss at being a Bishop. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Gloves pulled on for defense, sword sheathed and ready, my boots double tied to provide additional mobility, and my mask pulled over my face I was ready. All 5¡¯1 of me decked out in black and red were ready to take the fight to the Wyrm and then we could move on to killing other vampires. So activating Hermetic Sight I let my will overlay the world with technicolor to better track the corruption. While it was great the stuff was easily track-able since the sludge stood out against the backdrop of American decay, I would need to journey a bit to find where it seemed to gather.


    ¡°As predicted¡­ it¡¯s the coal mine.¡± Talking to myself helped a bit as I looked at the entrance to a hole in the side of the hill. It didn¡¯t seem to be a main entrance and judging by the way the corruption sat the sludge was pouring out from inside. The air was heavy with negativity and the perversion of nature made even my undead body want to vomit. ¡°I hate this¡­ I¡¯m gonna need a new change of clothes after this.¡± It was childish to complain but when I look like a freshman in college for eternity you can get away with it¡­ Least that is what I tell myself. Astrid found my antics adorable, and now that she was gone I found no reason to stop.


    ¡°Nala, watch my back please. Let¡¯s finish this and find ourselves a motel with a pool in the next town. What do you think, girl?¡± My shadow responded with a nod but I swear I could hear it purr. I honestly didn¡¯t realize cougars could purr but they sure could. It was comforting in an eat your face kind of way. Together we entered the deep dark hole filled with who knows what sort of supernatural nightmares. Least I could eat them¡­ Gotta think positive lest the Beast drags you into the abyss.

 Chapter 4

    You would think being a creature of the night I would enjoy the pitch blackness of the mines right? No and surprisingly Cainites don¡¯t naturally see in the dark. Certain clans have the ability and thankfully I started my undead life as a Gangrel so with a bit of vitae Eyes of the Beast took effect from the Protean discipline. With that in effect I¡¯ve got two sight based powers going, one to see in the dark and the other to see into the Umbra. With both of those available the path is visible but frankly I wish it wasn¡¯t. The walls are coated with an oily film that progressively gets thicker as I venture deeper into the dark. When I was a kid my Mother use to tell me that the Wyrm was one of the Triad spirits almost with the Wyld and the Weaver. He was the embodiment of entropy and allowed things to decay and fade. One day the Weaver grew tired of the Wyrm running the things it¡¯s created and decided to capture the Wyrm to stall entropy and the Wyrm lost its shit. Instead of naturally bringing things to an end it became something more cancerous. Other stories tell that the Wyrm is the byproduct of the physical and psychological damage mortals have laid on Gaia and it¡¯s current need to destroy us all was to reset things.


    Honestly¡­ I can understand either or. I would be pissed if I was hog tied and kept prisoner when I had an important cosmic job to do. I would also be pissed if I was an aspect of the world because frankly the world sucks. I believe that everything exists for a purpose, even Cainites, but the world is out of balance. Humans have spread like a plague, vampires have gotten too powerful and no longer cull the mortals the way they should, and the shifters have lost their way. Should the slate be wiped clean? Hell no, I wouldn¡¯t be a member of the Sabbat if I believed that. Despite what the Tower thinks we don¡¯t fight for the hell of it. Even the ones that went overseas for their Crusade aren¡¯t doing it just to fight. They want to kill the ancient vampires before they awaken and eat everyone in an orgy of bloodshed and hunger. I still believe that we could have been allies with the Garou if the wolves got their snouts out of their asses. We could have made a happy murder hobo party until Gehenna came. Hell I¡¯m a 9th Gen and I feel the call to go to war but instead I¡¯m here cleaning out a Wyrmhole. At least that was what I assumed was down here. With no humans around and the animal life all run off from the corruption something was spawning Scrags. Unless the one I killed was the only one and I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°Just stop Yuiko¡­¡± I told myself as we continued further in. ¡°Get your head straight and stop complaining.¡± Hissing slightly to myself I tried to stay focused and not let my mind wander. It was too easy to lose myself after the Temple burned and if I was honest with myself this adventure was really what I needed. It was something to take my mind off the Inquisition and vampire politics. A way to focus on something I was uniquely qualified to handle. And by uniquely qualified I meant by stabbing monsters and devouring them like the good Ahrimane I was.


    It took about 20 minutes but we eventually did run into more. The chitin cladded monster carried a pickaxe that appeared to have been stolen from supply and it hadn¡¯t noticed me yet as we rounded the corner. Nala saw in my shadow still obeying my last order to protect my rear and that was good. Good murder kitty, let me handle the nasty bugger ahead. Drawing my sword underhanded my body coiled up prepared to pounce. I needed to make sure it died quickly so using a little vitae and Spiritus I called upon the malicious death spirit in my sword to guide my hand as I quietly dashed up to my target. Then with a leap I came down on it from above and plunged the blade into its back at an angle to pierce where the heart would be. The creature attempted to scream but my weight and momentum knocked it face first into the rock and my free hand crushed the skull down into jagged earth until it popped like an over ripened melon. What was left of the body started to de-manifest but its energy wasn¡¯t returning to its source. Opening my maw I drank deep of the freed spiritual energy until nothing was left to be recycled back.


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    One down and an unknown left my senses trying to pick up where the highest concentration of corruption was and began to follow it again. If this was a Wyrmhole I might not need to eat for days and with the last two fights I was certain I could take these things one on one with no issues. They were tough but my combination of powers was unfair when it came to rapid takedowns. If I needed to use my War Form it meant something went tits up. 5th stage Disciples were always crazy like that.


    Hours¡­ I had travelled these tunnels for hours and I still hadn¡¯t found the source of the infestation. I had killed four more of the Scrags and I was now convinced they were scouts or look outs. Something deep inside told me when I got to the main source I would be outnumbered. Finally though it seemed my quest was starting to come to an end. There was light up ahead, the kind of green glow you expected for radiation which always seemed to be a good sign of sickly balefire. Where there was balefire there was the Wyrm and I could now sense the end of my search.


    Braced against a corner I turned and saw them. Three Scrags armed with machetes, a fourth with what appeared to be a large viper made for green flame, and the Wyrmhole. Toxic water swirled like a whirlpool in mid air. The viper Scrag was talking to the others and using her Spirit Speech spell she could listen in on them. They were complaining that several of their brethren had gone missing so it was pretty obvious they were talking about me. This was not good¡­ Even as I watched the Wyrmhole looked like it was about to hack up another bane and I was already worried about this fight. The Balefire elemental was already making my Beast nervous but unlike the Cainites that clung to their humanity I had a way to guide my Beast during a Frenzy.


    ¡°Nala, try and separate the three normal ones from the one with the elemental. I¡¯ll rush it down then help with the other three. Then we dismantle that wyrmhole.¡± My whispers were met with my shadow nodding before the spirit cougar separated from my shadow and I prepared myself for what I was about to do. Drawing Vitae and Will deep inside my flesh pulsed and I could almost feel my heart beat again despite being unable to use the Blush of Life. My claws grew to the size of kitchen knives and my body expanded slightly as my eyes sharped into cat-like pupils. This was my ultimate power¡­ the thing that brought me closer to my birthright than anything else. I could feel my teeth sharpen and extend in a way no human form should have and finally a red fluffy tail with a white tip emerged. It twitched with the fury flooding my veins as my Warform completed. The secret tool of any Arimane¡­ the 5th stage of Spiritus and what caused some to think of us as Abominations. I was ready to rip these creatures apart and with a final grip on my Beast I rode my Frenzy to its destructive end. Either they would be exorcised from this plane or I would meet my end.

 Chapter 5

    Cainites have this thing called the Beast, it¡¯s this sort of inner demon that we are born within those first moments of revival. From that first reawakening it screams for blood, violence, and even fear. What sets it off depends on the stimuli but most react with fight or flight in the most animalistic way possible. Fight in the case of hunger and flight in the same of peril and the beast is deathly afraid of a few things. Fire being one of those as it¡¯s one of the few things that we have no real defense against and there is no torporing our way out of ashes. Why do I bring this up? Well there is a nuclear fire sort of beastie I decided needed killing and my inner demon was screaming at me to run away, run far away. If I had been a normal vampire then yeah I probably would have lost that inner battle and bolted like a cat with its tail stepped on. Instead I practiced a Path and with it came something most vampires never consider. Instead of fighting the Beast you can guide it, urge it onto a more productive path by embracing it as part of yourself. So instead of trying to wrestle my inner demon to do what I wanted I urged it into violence against the thing that terrified it.


    Nala didn¡¯t need my instructions as she wasn¡¯t a pokemon and knew how to hunt down her target. Even as I worked myself into a frothing frenzy she was already moving to separate the chaff from the more dangerous target. We though weren¡¯t a wolf pack and Nala separated them in the only way a cougar could. She got as close as possible and then leaped onto the chitinous freaks before snapping her jaws around its neck and dragging it to the ground. Her claws raked its armor pulling chunks of rotting meat away with relative ease. After all she was a higher rank spirit these Wyrm fodder.


    While Nala initiated conflict I was right behind. With a scream of primal rage and fury my enhanced body pounced onto the Scag with the Balefire Elemental. Nala had caught them by surprise so when I came out of nowhere at Celerity speed the malignant spirit wasn¡¯t ready. I wasn¡¯t a disciplined fighter¡­ There was no grand sweeping strategy or tactic¡­ I ran on raw instinct and like my cougar partner I slammed into the Scag blade first. Folded steel collapsed the creature¡¯s chest as destructive energy spread through the wound. Both of us hit the cavern floor and with both hands free my knife like claws slashed through the Scags face tearing spirit matter off in oily chunks.


    The Balefire elemental in the form of a viper was crushed underneath us as it hadn¡¯t been able to entwine itself before I hit like a pint-size linebacker. Green sickly embers sputtered from its mouth as it tried to get into striking position but like the oversized feral cat I was my fist countered slamming the snake back into ground before it could bite. Then before it could pry itself out of my grasp my head lunged forward snapping fangs into its body before thrashing wildly ripping the possessed viper in half. Spirit matter erupted from the torn flesh and I instinctively drank deep to recover from the energy I wasted buffing myself prior to the fight. Underneath me the Scrag didn¡¯t move and out of wrath my claws scored it¡¯s tough flesh again before darkness covered my sight temporarily.


    Blinking a little, my sight returned to find that I had fallen to the side as one of the three Scrag¡¯s Nala had been fighting had managed to disengage and crack the side of my skull with a metal bar. Blinking in utter disbelief at my tunnel vision to have missed the creature, my Beast roared defiance as precious vitae was burned for the 3rd stage of Spirit which was Aspect of the Beast. The roar that erupted from my throat hit the unnatural hell spawn like a sonic wave disrupting it long enough for my beastly warform to pounce onto it. Claws dug into the hard exoskeleton but I wasn¡¯t going to be killing it with claws. Snapping forward like a viper my mouth expanded unnaturally before crushing the windpipe of the Scrag. Like the others it was banished but not with all its spiritual energy as I devoured a good bit in my never ending hunger. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Nala, Gaia bless her, had taken down one of the two she was fighting and was now wrestling with the other. Sure she was big and angry but the Scag was heavier so without the advantage of surprise it was keeping her pinned despite how much her claws scored its body. She would hold on long enough though for me to destroy the Wyrmhole and prevent it from puking up more of these creatures. Normally I would retrieve my sword first but with the Beast riding me hard tactical logic had gone out of the window and would stay gone until all my foes were vanquished. So instead of doing the sensible thing and attacking it with the spirit enhanced blade my feral mind struck with claws.


    Psychic screams of pain and rage shook the mine as I touched and hurt the sentient portal to Umbra. My claws were able to cleave it because I practiced the Thaumaturgical art of Spirit Manipulation. Vampires did not naturally affect the Umbra, that was a shapeshifter thing but Ahrimanes were different. We were the closest thing to Garou not directly birthed by Gaia. We could command, hurt, devour, and control spirits and my claws were doing the hurting now. Frenzied slashes tore at the oily membrane and if I was rational enough to listen I would hear the Wyrm trying to command me like I was just another wyrm tainted vampire. It demanded I stop but my frenzied body only saw something that needed to be eliminated and it wouldn¡¯t stop until the portal collapsed.


    ====================


    The fight did not go unnoticed¡­ Gathered around what appeared to be a board meeting room were 7 men and women watching the event seemingly through the Wyrmhole itself. One of them was chuckling wildly at the display of aggression and violence. Shaggy black hair and red eyes, the man had a crazy look in his eyes as he was delighted to watch the fight despite their plot being dismantled before their remote viewing.


    ¡°And what is so funny Ansen?¡± One of the men in a black corporate suit demanded of his cackling associate. ¡°We had been preparing that site for months and some random blood sucker just stumbled upon the site and ruined our investment?¡± His tone was no nonsense and businesslike as the remote viewing ended with a pop as the Wyrmhole was devoured in front of the board''s eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s funny? That punk just ate a gods damn portal to the Umbra! How can I not be amused by this. Do you know what she is?¡± He replied, shaking in excitement at what they just witnessed. His compatriots just shrugged, not having an answer to his question.


    ¡°Do enlighten us Ansen.¡± The prior man asked with a bored expression. He was already thinking about the paperwork this would cause and how to spin it so that their stock prices didn¡¯t drop. The market hated losers after all.


    ¡°Delighted too! That my friend was a leech whose lineage I thought was eradicated back in the 90s. I heard that one was spotted in Montreal that was apart of the Sword but our representatives never made contact. To think the line of Valkyries was still running around. I want her¡­¡± The man howled in excitement as he imagined picking that girl apart. His eyes were crazy as he imagined how fun it would be to dance the spiral with her in tow. An honest to gods Ahrimane in a post Inquisition world and she seemed to be heading south. He wondered why but didn¡¯t care. He now had a play thing that wouldn¡¯t break easily. Then once done he would sacrifice her to the Wyrm. ¡°Who wants to go on a road trip?¡±

 Chapter 6

    What does a Cainite get for fast food? What do you think I¡¯m setting up the punch line for a joke? No I¡¯m not, I¡¯m totally being serious. I¡¯m not a vegetarian so I¡¯m not picking up dinner in the form of a stray or anything like the bleeding hearts that refuse to go after people. Normally if given the chance I prefer to hunt other blood suckers because vitae is a lot more filling but unless you plan to kill your target there is always the chance for a bit of blood binding to go on and frankly I¡¯m not looking for that sort of attachment so the bar it is!


    What a better place to catch a meal than a dive bar off in a less than reputable part of a major city? Least that would be the case if that place wasn¡¯t already claimed by someone else. In my case tonight I drew the short stick and the first biker bar I found on the outskirts of Philadelphia is already controlled by some Anarchs. I honestly should have seen it coming¡­ It looks like the sort of place a Brujah would hang out in. No I¡¯m not stereotyping well maybe a little. If you don¡¯t think Biker bar for an Anarch Brujah then you don¡¯t hang out in vampire circles very much.


    Either way when my short and skinny ass self walks in after parking my bike everyone turned their head. Surely it wasn¡¯t the dress code right? I¡¯m rocking the homeless college student chic with my combat boots, black leggings, black hoodie, and cat eared beanie and I could feel the eyes sizing me up. Thankfully all it took was a glare for my inner Beast to warn off the weakest minded of the mortals as I walked up to the bar and requested a beer. Now you would ask, why am I ordering something I obviously can¡¯t drink and my answer would be cover. It¡¯s all about setting up the cover and after handing over the cash I take the foul smelling beer and head for the corner. Worst part was I liked alcohol before dying¡­ My mother ran one of those homey taverns back on the west coast with home made sake being our biggest seller. Now though it gave off a weird scent and I would just throw it up about an hour down the road if I dared drink it.


    My plan was to attract the bravest soul that approached me, charm them with Presence, take them out back, and then bleed them dry before taking off but that was not meant to be. Instead of a tasty mortal, either gender worked though I was partial to the fairer as an Ahrimane, a rather big fellow approached me. Shaved head, bulging muscles, and a come at me bro expression he instantly gave me pause as my inner defenses tried to determine if I should escape out the back or not. See we have a certain sense for others of our kind, it helps with preventing mistaken identity and my Path urges me to avoid conflict in other predators'' spaces. So when he approached and intention cut off my path of escape I had to fight the urge to growl. This wasn¡¯t my town, I was the intruder at this point and I knew it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you here, little one.¡± He stated in a low tone that while unthreatening yet let me know he was on to me. His arms were crossed and I could see an Anarch tattoo on his lower arm. Least he wasn¡¯t a member of the Camerilla, Anarchs could be reasoned with for the most part as long as you didn¡¯t start it first.


    ¡°I do apologize if I intruded. I¡¯ll be on my way¡­¡± Taking a slightly submissive tone with the man I attempted to get up and leave but he placed his meaty mitts on my shoulder and pushed me back into my seat. This was already not going well¡­ A Brujah was not something I wanted to tangle with. They were faster and stronger than me if we were similar in age. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Now, now, no need to leave yet. Let¡¯s chat a bit.¡± Without my approval he sat down next to me keeping me against the wall as I was dumb enough to set myself up in a corner. ¡°First, what are you doing in my area? Did someone send you? Don¡¯t lie, it¡¯s easier to just be truthful.¡± He asked setting off alarms in my head. Did this dude think I was here to spy or something?


    ¡°Honestly my friend, nobody sent me. I¡¯m travelling south and got a bit hungry. I have no intention of causing trouble.¡± My will was strong and my training kept me cool under pressure. Dealing with psychos back in the Temple helped as they were scarier than anything the Anarchs could deploy. I¡¯ll explain one day the sort of games we played for training later if you were interested.


    ¡°Interesting¡­ you don¡¯t seem to be lying to me girl. Who do you belong to?¡± This question was obviously pointing at my allegiance. No way I¡¯m gonna tell him I¡¯m a Sabbat survivor running from potential trouble. Yes I count both the Wyrm encounter and the Inquisition to be future trouble. No way either would just let me get away without consequences.


    ¡°Nobody at this time. Running solo as my pack was killed by hunters.¡± I admitted which was most true. My skills with bending the truth were second to being able to manipulate others'' impression of me. My pride did not prevent me from taking full advantage of my statue and unimposing nature. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t want any trouble Sir.¡±


    He laughed at that and slapped my shoulder, almost forcing me over in the process. This was a turn I was not expecting. ¡°Ain¡¯t that right kid. Why don¡¯t you come hang out with us? We know how to treat the lost and the damned right. Better than being out on the streets for some posh Prince to think they can acquire a new toy. What do you say?¡± He asked seemingly well intentioned but I knew better. The Anarchs were a weird group in my opinion. They claimed to be independent and rebels but I knew they were just about as independent as Libertarians were. The Tower only let them play their games because it was easier than subjugating them.


    ¡°I appreciate it but I really do just want to head back South to check on some old contacts. I promise I can handle any handsy Princes I meet along the way.¡± To make my point I showed him my claws before out of sight from the mortals. The man just laughed a bit before slapping me on the back as if I was a child showing him my best trick.


    ¡°Cute kid. How about this, you come meet my boss and if he says you are good to go you can. Gotta at least pay respect to the one who owns the area you were trying to feed in.¡± He said with a smile that didn¡¯t reach his ears. Well shit¡­ I was going to get shaken down wasn¡¯t I? I could try and escape but with the number of mortals around it would be a mistake. They would demand me burn in the morning sun for breaking the Masquerade if I went rogue now.


    ¡°Absolutely! I would be more than happy to meet with your boss, my friend.¡± Best play up the innocent Canadian act. Americans loved that shit right? Better being friendly and polite instead of ending every sentence with bless your heart. ¡°My name¡¯s Yuiko, what about you?¡± I asked sweetly, avoiding using my own presence with this guy. Gangrel didn¡¯t normally have that discipline and it might out me as either older than I appeared or not quite what I claimed to be.


    ¡°Good choice kid. My names Raulf and I saw you come in on that Harley outside. You will be leaving it as we will be walking. Come on, maybe the boss will be gracious enough to feed you too if you stay on good behavior.¡± He added, and I was about to say something about leaving my bike in the parking lot but he just shook his head as if knowing my objection. ¡°Nobody touches our property so you are good if you walk out with me.¡± With that he stood up and gestured for me to follow. Of course I would though I was regretting stopping in this city already.