Sex, Lies, and Videotape

Set aside

Tue, 05 Oct 2004 15:30:00 GMT

The oak splinters under my wrath.

Old hands rend the old desk to little more than kindling.

Toothpicks fill the air as the next strike lands.

The power within my blood answers the call, turning splinters into dust.

Blood flows, mixing with the dust.

WAKE UP!

The golden haze lifts from my eyes. There is no pain, but there is blood and destruction all around me. You cannot let frustration get the upper hand Alexander. I shake my head, frustration had finally gotten the better of me. Months of sucessfull plotting and planning, of assinations and payoffs were finally upon me.

Then something happened. Someone stopped me. Human.

I shed my ripped jacket. Pinching the bridge of my nose I try to think, as the blood from my hand trickles down onto my face. Ronald appears, check to see how I fare. "Better than the desk, replace it."

They'll contact me. They'll want something. Fools, I will turn it around on them, put them under my control. Control me? You cannot control yourselves, and that will be your downfall.

The perpartions are being made, in a night or two I will meet my enemy head on. Smile to their face, and put a knife in their back.

May you live in intresting times

Wed, 25 Aug 2004 20:03:28 GMT

Re-reading the list I reflect and let the darkness settle around me.

Castio, A rose. He has been nothing to me, now enters into the picture once again, save him or leave him.

Kage. Leave him, let him burn.

Crane? A Prince and a man of words. He lacks the convictions of his words. A letter. A news briefing. I'd have crushed these humans under my heel before I'd had degraded myself like that.

Anwar. She remains a mystery to me. It's a good sensation, she hates and fears me in one blow, though I've done little to nothing to incite her.

Janus. A ventrue, I know no more about him than I need to know. His blood makes his idel, doubtfull he will take action.

Corinne. Stein once qutoed for me, while I was watching her. It was true my old friend, I wouldn't die for her, but I'd kill for her.

So I'll save them all from Hummel in one fell swoop, no matter what the objections of the Prince maybe. And in the future I hope their follies will keep them off the Television.

All work and no plays makes Jack a dull boy. I took to my feet, walking to the streets, enjoying the anger, the rage I felt in the air. Something was happening, changing us. I stopped and watch as an old woman was mugged, as a young woman was pulled into an alley, and as one man killed another. I walked on, human life is never as intresting as that of the kindred.

I arrived at the gathering, there were groups gathered, and low and behold, Ignatius, their scourge was a diablorist. Wonder how that could have happened? I snicker to myself, moving off to enjoy other handy work.

I returned when I heard the explsions. Perhaps there would he injuried I could "aid." The only one of intrest I found was Paige, Ignatius' ghoul. I spoke with her, though she was broken some fire remains there. She lacks the strenght to save him, perhaps he is dead already. But I may have use for her.

Otherwise the evening passed without comment. I spoke words with Rage. Boring. And the time passed. I returned to sleep, my dreams being more intresting than the evening.

I'm coming Hummel. Do not fear Corrine.

I'm coming.

Losing time

Thu, 22 Jul 2004 15:26:54 GMT

Walking down the street I was transported to a time and place I've not been in thousands of years.

My heart beat, my skin flushed and sweat, I felt alive, so alive.

The next moment I was in her arms. Bliss. I was complete. A closed circle at last. I leaned into her, her embrace warm, I turned to her, and the heat, the passion took me over.

The next moment I was a top the Fleet Center, looking down on all the mortals. Pathetic. I brought my phone to my ear.

"Is it done?" I asked darkly.

"Taken care of sir." Answered back my contact.

And the police moved away from the lines at Democratic Convention. I watched and waited. Pawns in place, now to move the other pieces.

The Sabbat were easy enough to convince. Tell them where the Camarilla will be, and their "sword" grows impatient for blood.

The Camarilla always takes a tad more convincing, so I sent a warning, and they committed their forces.

Helicopters flew over head, those inside unworthy to see me. I watched as the carnage ensued. The Camarilla and Sabbat met amongst the mortal, fighting, killing, terrorizing them. It was a beautiful symphony. The crescendo, the crowds surged, the sword wet with blood, the tower stained.

Light.

And a voice. "They are mine, mine to protect."

I locked eyes with it. This false god, this illusion, this trick.

Brown to gold.

Light to darkness.

I've since dreamt. And I've heard the voice of my father. My Father.

"You've served well. Now serve me again."

My eyes are open. Once again I walk upon the sands.

a God.

I am the Sandseller...

Wed, 23 Jun 2004 17:24:41 GMT

"Good evening Prince Parker."

"Good evening, Alexander. How are you this evening?"

I sigh heavily, the evening had not gone as hoped. The Setites slaughter, Darius gone, my brothers cut down by their own foolishness, their own arrogance. Yet, I feel sorrow for them, and rage over the loss.

*I smile* "I am well, thank you. Yourself?"

She looks cold, hurt, distant. "I sold my soul to the devil, I died, I came back. Otherwise, I'm well. You can't imagine it..."

She fingers the item that's she's holding, I can't see it, but I know it's there, waiting.

"What can't I imagine Prince Parker?"

She looks up at me. "What it means to be alive, Pike. In death, all things become clear. I died, and in this one moment I've never felt more alive. You don't know what that is anymore, but I'll remind you."

She holds out the item that she's been carrying, and dread sets in, as if I knew what it was. Its shape had become clear to me when it was removed. She held out a still, black heart.

She smiles. "I give you life Alexander Pike, I make you human again. Enjoy your life."

There is pain for a moment, suffering, burning as my body returns to life. My skin flushes with his natural color, goosebumps across my flesh, and there is a sharp intake of air as my lungs expand. I hold out my hands, truly a wonderment that I could live again!

Prince Parker makes a noise. "Tsk Tsk, Alexander, haven't we forgotten something?"

I look up at her, my eyes seeing the sun rising behind her, forgetting all the pain and suffering that my immortal life has caused.

My eyes settle on the heart, full and red. It beats in her hand spilling blood, my blood upon the white marble.

"You haven't the heart for life, Alexander."

Pain.

My chest seers, my fingers curl and claw at the space where my heart should be, the air in my lungs becomes stale. I take a step towards her, extending my other hand, begging, pleading, not to let me die like this. To let me live. Or if she will not, to give me the heart so that it can be weighted and I can join Set at his side.

She does nothing, but stand and wait. "This is what you are Alexander, you are nothing now. Your life is gone. Your immortality is fleeting. And you will not be weighted at the scales.

I make one final attempt, lunging myself on her. She remains upright as I attempt to raise myself up to face her. As I stand for the last time I look at her. Her eyes are gold. He skin bronzed. Her hair flows up and out around her. She opens her mouth to speak. Her mouth full of row on row of sharpened teeth, extends until it encompasses me. Then it closes.

Darkness.

Darkness. Noise. The sun is setting; I can feel its weight coming off me.

I pull back the sheets of the bed, swing my legs over the side and sit up. I let my face rest in my hands, the weight of my head held there by my strength.

I stand, feeling the carpeting beneath my feet, and I cross to the windows with their heavy drapes. Reaching out with a trembling hand I pull one back. The sun hides along the horizon, and sets as I watch.

I stand for a long time, watching. Even with the sun gone there is light in this place, always light it seems. I smile to myself and try to shake off the nightmare's effect.

I've always had nightmares my first day in a new place.

I back away from the window, and kneel down. I pray. May Set hear me.

With prayer finished I summon my breakfast. She is young, dark skinned, with dark hair.

Afterwards, she rests in the bed while I dress. The sweet taste of her blood still lingers on me, creating a euphoria I was not expecting.

The city awaits. There is work to be done. Yet I hesitate for a moment, looking out the window once more, I rememeber.

"Prince Parker, I have not died. You have. Perhaps I will miss you. Perhaps I will not. Have peace now. Have peace."

I close my eyes for a moment, willing it to be so. Then I turn and walk out of the suite.

The city awaits. So much work to be done.

Death

Mon, 14 Jun 2004 16:02:14 GMT

They're dead.

Killed by a Lasmabra.

I was there.

I was late.

I am alive.

But now what, with Darius dead the New York temple could be exposed. I must make steps to prevent that, I must go to New York and see to the city.

Calls are made, Ronald and Tina are already in route. And now I will bid farwell to this place I've called home for so long, and will move to the place that has never welcomed me. Because of Darius and his memories.

I lock my briefcase and turn once more to look upon the city.

Goodbye Hartford. Goodbye Connecicut. You have been kind to me, but I must turn that kindness away now and embrace the growing darkness.

Goodbye.

into the void

Fri, 04 Jun 2004 20:49:47 GMT

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

In the dark blue sky you keep,
While you thro' my window peep,
And you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!¸

Storms

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 18:39:11 GMT

The return trip from New York had almost turned my stomache. A threatening thunderstorm had hit and tossed the helicoper to and fro. I am immortal, and I find it strange how something as simple as a storm can threaten me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, and try to focus as we clear the storm and level off. Things were right on schedule, with little hitches here and there, but that was to be expected. My work in the world continues, and we are well pleased.

But as I gaze into the abyss the threat returns to me.

Something has come to Connecticut. Something powerful. I have felt the ripples for months. I know now it is not the Camarilla, they are to simple minded and controlled to be doing this. But still it eludes me who or what has come here.

Some eyes have turned from me. Their attention drawn to the new. And I can feel it, new eyes upon me, watching me, wait for something.

I am still pondering it as the helicoper lands. I exit and peer twoards the West. Walking to the edge of the building I watch as the darkness take form. The still of the night moves and flows. The silence suddenly has voice. And the stillness that had me once a peace is shattered by wind and rain.

The others have fled for cover, but it is just a storm, these things come, and they go. They...

The blue flash blinds me. The crack that follows shakes the foundations, and I fall.

Fall into darkness.

time

Wed, 12 May 2004 20:47:17 GMT

It has been a slow month. I have been over countless pages of read outs, watched more monitors than I care to, and written more laws than I ever wished to. My hands are black. My eyes are tired and I long for something I didn't think I ever would.

Court.

Mother always told me you attract more flies with honey...and so the court in Connecticut has attracted me. With danger. With trouble. With Hatred and rage. I find the thoughts of these things summoning me to court.

That and Belissa.

It is strange thinking about her now. However, I find my thoughts turning more and more twoards her. Perhaps I was more taken than I first suspected. But she'll have none of me. I know because the Princess' of the Dying Sun would never have "poluted" their family lines with outsider blood. I don't thinks she would either.

I consider the pen on my desk, thiking of what I would say to her in a letter. Not knowing if she would anwser me, or not. No, simply no. My mind focuses once again on the issue at hand.

I finger the PLAY button on the remote and the screen in front of me jumps to life.

There in the center is a white male, mid 20's, dressed in black. He is chanting and whispering softly, gesturing with his hands. A body floats in front of him. As he moves the body moves as if under his control.

The scene changes quickly;

Uconn college, night. In the distace a dark man can be seen, and across from him the same tall white man as seen in the pervious clip. The white man holds out a hand and the dark man is consumed in flame. The camera holds it's place while the man on fire runs away from it. I finger REWIND, STOP, then EJECT. The tape is labeled; Ignatitus, Agent to the Whore. Connecticut.

Punishment. He offended Elysium, broke the anc ient laws, and now I hear he's become Scourge of this city. Scourge, one meant to hunt down those unacknowledge members of soiety. To harrass them or to kill them if they will not turn to the Camarilla. If that is to be his punishment, then let the pun ishment begin.

I withdraw the manilla envelope from my desk. Dipping the pen in the inkwell I address it.

Reverend Bill
The Reckoning Hour

...
ù

TV

Thu, 29 Apr 2004 18:32:42 GMT

Such a terrible thing, and at the same time a wonderous one.

Pike steeples his fingers in front of his face, leaned forward as the bank of Televisions show him multiple flickering images.

"When was this?" He questions in a cold, calculated tone.

"Yesterday night, and tonight, one broadcast following the other." Thomas answered me quickly and efficiently.

Leaning back in his chair Pike pondered what this meant. Smith is coming. Without doubt he will be looking for Winters, and when he finds him he wil l kill him. What ever possessed Winters to do such a fool hardy thing? Had he not heard the Justicars words about being caught on video?

Pike's hands ran down the smooth dark fabric of his new suit, and he inhaled, deeply and strongly. He held the breath for a moment.

A dark, deep, cold laughter echoed the halls of the temple.

And Pike wished he had more phone numbers for Ventrue..

Introduction of J Lee. Part II (with the collabrative effort of J Lee Ramos)

Tue, 20 Apr 2004 21:19:46 GMT

Bloop bloop-oop-oop-oop.

That’s all you could hear as I walked towards my choice of leisure tonight.

Ti-ti-sch-vrud-duddududududud. Was the next sound as all 8 cans moved to beat of J Lee's dyno-tuned 678 hp prototype ’69 AMX. What can I say, the kid has a knack for foolin’ with cars and what not.

What to do what to do. I look around the shop, notice that J’s car wasn’t were he usually put it so I figured it was Saturday night, kids gotta be down at Buckley provin’ points.

Now this kid is nasty, not like me nasty, but nasty with the wrenches, I provide the funds, and he brings his imagination to life. Take this most recent project:

1969 AMX, jet black polyurethane 7 stage paint with two stages of clear-yeah, I think that’s the color...hehe.

413 cubic inches of small block Mopar under the hood building 550+ horsepower.

J’s getting crazy with it though, he’s designed this twin turbo set up, at moderate boost I’m makin’ 615+hp. And I mean like 2-3psi worth of moderate boost.

Two inch drop up front with 17 inch three piece enkie’s wrapped in Nitto rubber. 1 inch drop out back rollin’ on 18 Nitto drag radials. I think it looks sweet, and it sure as hell does, but J said "right, like those tires are gonna put the power to the ground. I don’t think so." Kid loves his shit, gets really technical with me sometimes, I try not to let on when I’m not sure what he’s talking bout.

It was bout 11:45PM and the night was cool and crisp, the way a midsummer night should be. Sky was clear and blue, that unusual blue/black sky you get because the city’s nightlife seems to reflect upwards towards the heavens, though many actions and intentions happen well below the city streets.

I just felt like I needed to get away from it all. The club, the girls, my servants, I don’t know, it seemed as though everyone was getting to me, getting under my skin. I sometimes seek refuge in the shop that J Lee occupies so often, ah, how could I forget, its Saturday night and he’s out playin’ with the boys.

I’d actually never been out to the street races, but J...the kid runs shit for me down there. He used to be small time, well small time in the sense that he had his little street car and did the very damn best he could with what he had. He comes from a reputable family in the street racing world. His older brother and father ran things in the ‘70s and ‘90s, I figure now its his turn.

Never being out to a race I didn’t think I’d have a problem driving the latest project from the shop. J said that when he finished the AMX, nothing would be able to touch it.

Nothing.

Introducing J Lee. Part I

Tue, 20 Apr 2004 21:10:32 GMT

I push open the entrance to the secret garage and I’m greeted with the familiar smells; motor oil, burnt rubber, gasoline, and grease. All the smells that make this a successful garage. I don't often come down here, however recently J Lee has been complaining about dreams involving a flower and a desert. I’m sure they are nothing more than dreams, however he is a valued associate and I will take his dreams seriously.

The Garage that’s here was originally going to be for storage only. All that changed on a winter night about 3 years ago. The night I blew out two head gaskets in the middle of Jersey, not a pleasant place to break down. With dawn not far off, I was forced to push the vehicle to a local garage. Closed of course, I planned to settle into the trunk for the day. That’s when J Lee appeared from behind the building. A tall, Latino male, with dark features. His hands stained with motor oil and he smelled of work and cars. He paused looking at me, as I finished pushing the car into the l ot. "Ya know it’s easier ta drive them instead of pushing them." He flashed me an awarding winning smile. Doubtless he was as successful with women as he was with cars.

"Something’s wrong with it. Check Engine lights on, it foundered and stalled about 4 miles….correction a mile back." Great, let him know how long you’ve been pushing this car without breaking a sweat.

"Must have been hell on you coming up Baker’s Hill." He mused as I opened the hood and he rounded on the car to take a look. "Let me grab some light and we’ll see what we can see." With that he produced a set of keys and opened the garage. A moment later the car port door rolled up and he ducked out with an overhead worklight. He got under the car and went to work.

It’s amazing how much I had forgotten what real work looks like. I enjoy what I do, however it’s never as hands on as this young man’s work. I don’t get blood on my hands anymore, doubtless they would be as darkly stained as J Lee’s were if I did. He focused, he concentrated, he loved the car even though it was not his. I envied him for that, this man who has such passion for something I found so trivial, till it had broken down. I was curious, ensnared if you will, and I watched him work, test, and try the engine. Then he stepped back shaking his head.

"She’s dead. You killed her. Man, you have to stop for oil changes every 3000 miles. When was the last time you stopped for one?"

"about 3000 years." I joked with him. He grinned.

"Ya well, this engine is shot, the exhaust system is fried, the wheels are bald, and don’t even get me started on the Tranny. Shit man." He thought for a moment. "For about 10 grand I can drop an new engine in this, fix up the tranny, bring in some new tires, and get the whole ride updated. But for that price you could just buy a new car, and start over from scratch."
I pondered. Then something intrupted, weighting heavily on my mind. Sunrise. I had been delayed too long. "J did you say your name was? I have to get some sleep, pushing the car must have taken more out of me than I thought. Can we meet tomorrow night, I’ll have an answer for you then?" It was getting brighter, I couldn’t be delayed.

"Sounds good man, right here tomorrow night. But we better find a place for the car, help me push it right over here." He indicated and I pushed the car. Once that was done, I took out some money.

"What are you doin man? All I did was take a look?"

"Yes, but your being very accommodating, it being the middle of the night…or just about dawn." Something leaped up inside me, screamed to hid. "Please take this for the trouble." I gave him two hundred dollars. "and my thanks. Tomorrow evening? right here?"

He folded the money putting it in his pocket. "Right here, tomorrow night." He smiled and nodded. Spun on a heel and returned to the garage. He went inside and locked up, by the time he came out again, I was safely locked away in my trunk, already beginning to slumber.

Upkeep on a car? Oil changes? I sighed in the morning air. Wonder if the kid needs a job.

I smiled and slept.

Changing the World

Tue, 13 Apr 2004 18:50:24 GMT

It’s a nightmare.

I remember it all so clearly. How he fingered the guitar. How the tune carried. How one note was just slightly out of tune, however very unnoticed. I can remember when he closed his eyes, I can remember when he opened them, how he sang, and how he enjoyed it.

How I enjoyed it.

It’s these memories that make me unhappy. These happy times so far gone. Replaced by bitter hate and thoughts bent on destruction. It’s amazing how fast the worm turns.

J.B. Kage. A toreador. A singer. Correction, an amazing singer. He inspired me to hum a few tunes. But no longer. His "above all" attitude landed him in a place where I will never care for him again.

It was a Monday night, early in the evening when Monica called. She was crying, hysterical, and hurt. I calmed her down and we spoke. It seems Mr. Kage had met with her, had been talking to her, and then reached out and touched her mind. Played within her mind. He had hurt her. Violated her. He had touched something he was so unworthy of that it was inexcusable. Moreover, he didn’t care.

Stein and I planned. Then Monica contacted us again telling us everything had been dealt with by her clan and that we wouldn’t have to worry. Kage was warned.

Never to my satisfaction.

Then, it was New York City; I was present to see the comings and going of the court. There had been some murders that evening, and eventually Mr. Kage found his way to me, and asked me if I knew what had happened. It was then, in that moment, on Elysium, that he crossed a line. He attacked Monica, and now was brazen enough to think that he could attack me. And when I was expecting it. He was a fool, a fool with a death wish. That being his wish, I put plans into granting it.

The Connecticut court was called, and Kage was there. I made my rounds, and then set off into northern territory to meet Stein. I had left behind scouts, watching for Kage, for when he left the Elysium, he was mine. And sure enough, patience wins in the end. He came out, and I was alerted. I forced him to me. And then we waited again.

I will be brief in what happened. Kage arrived and found us. We attacked and he ran. He escaped us several times, until the rest of his court arrived. Vincent DeWinter confronted Stein and I. Saying that this was the end, and that he would end it. I killed Kage in my heart the night he crossed me. But that night I stood in the woods, DeWinter before, ready to kill me and mine for defending ourselves. For doing what the Camarilla wouldn’t. Couldn’t because they were so blinded by Kage’s standing and talent. Disgusted, I killed DeWinter in my heart as well.

Yet I miss him. DeWinter I mean. Captured by the Sabbat, I was aware. A traitor after that, not surprised. But dead. Dead, I didn’t see, and wasn’t pleased about.

I’m wandering. Kage made it away with the help of this court. As far as I know he never stopped running. He ran to California, where I was informed he made it up to Prince, replacing the snakes he had tried to get to kill me. And he keeps running.

For his sake I hope he always does.

---------------------------------------------------

If I could reach the stars,
Pull one down for you,
Shine it on your heart
So you could see the truth:
That this love I have inside
Is everything it seems.
But for now I find
It's only in my dreams.

If I could change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.

And if I could be king,
Even for a day,
I'd take you as my queen;
I'd have it no other way.
And our love would rule
This kingdom we had made.
Till then I'd be a fool,
Wishing for the day...

That I can change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.

If I could change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.

Tonight

Thu, 08 Apr 2004 20:48:48 GMT

I let the silk jacket slip from me. It’s silk, woven by blind nun on top of a mountain somewhere.

I wished it to be that way.

I drop the coat on the couch, not carrying how it lands; I have a servant who will fetch it later. I try to relax running my hand across the desk. E Finest oak, carved and shipped here. Expensive, however worth it when one places their hands on it. It’s smooth, strong, empowering.

I wished it to be that way.

Turning away I make my way to the terrace, a cool night, clear, thankfully after so many storms. I watch the city ebb and flow in the darkness. Tonight had been a huge success. The combined efforts of months of hard work had finally paid off. My connections in to this city were stronger, and for the first time in a long time I felt in control.

I wished it to be that way.

I had been all smiles on the way up here. Everyone nodded and smiled back. They know that when I’m pleased it means good things to come. Or they smile because they believe if they don’t I will kill their families. I no longer smile now, thinking has put me off that. The servants have been asked to stay away for now. They will. They are obedient.

I wished it to be that way.

Such success, such fire, passion, I don’t know what to call it. I’m pleased, I wish to share my mood…but with whom. I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking of all the people I’ve crossed paths with; Ronald, Tina, Hydra, Bassila, Lord Patronus, Ignatius, Rage, Shiva, Smith, Ramos, Tess, John, Paige, Elias, Darius, or Belissa. I stop thinking. She causes that, a complete shut down of logical thought. Belissa. I look up again, that’s whom I wish, who I want here. To tell. To celebrate with. She will come.

I wished it to be that way.

I relax; it is a simple thing to reach out to her, to draw her. And she will come, and we will dance, celebrate, as it should be.

I breathe out.

It won’t be though. Because it’s not that way. She’s not that way. None of them are. I am alone.

I wished it to be that way.
c

Anequa’s Tomb

Wed, 31 Mar 2004 17:51:26 GMT

There is a stairway. This stairway’s steps are too short to accommodate the foot of the average man today. A living testimony to the stature of these people. The stairway leads to a receiving area of sorts. The receiving area is square, cut smooth with stone, there is an altar before a massive door. There are still bloodstains on the altar. Beyond the altar is the door, the only entrance into this crypt. The door is circular, massive, and heavy. Everything here is carved into or on the stone.

Crypts, such as this one, are meant to illustrate the life of the one who sleeps inside, however this one is different. The marking here warn anyone who would enter that death lies within. It’s comical. Of course death lies within the tomb. But what I’m not expounding upon is the context. The warning means that the one inside may still be living, simply waiting to be free.

This fascinated me when I found it, and it has become one of my greatest treasures. I don’t know everything I can, and that is truly part of the mystery for me. Having read the faded glyphs repeatedly and still I find mystery here in.

I will translate the writing, but please understand that with the translation to English, we lose quite a big of context. It reads;

***begin translation***

"Be warned. Death lies within. Sealed forever and buried by the burnt sands. To enter risks the life you have, and the lives of all the world. (The world being Egypt at the time) Her name is Anequa, daughter and Princess to Sultan Atime. Once fair, yet silent, she was her father’s small child. (It means his favored child) Her night (her birth night) she rested, but there crept a darkness. She awoke, but did not cry out, and that darkness touched her. Changed her. Her father entered the room, chasing the dark with his blade. He found his daughter, yet not his daughter; the dark had changed her. He brought her before the scimitar and she was brought down. (He used his own sword and killed her)

But she did not die.

The body was taken to be prepared for mummification. Three moons passed, and then she vanished. Her body walked once more. During the day the Sultan fortified himself in his palace. Guards at every entrance. But as the moon rose, he died. Anequa returned and stole his Kai spirit. (Basically his soul)

That year the harvests festered. The rot spread through the world. Men disappeared. Anequa was blamed. The people created a crypt for her body, and lined it with all the treasures they had. They hoped the gold would lure her to rest. When it did not they made human sacrifices. The number of her age (around 16) died upon the altar, and finally her body was found. Anequa was discovered in the northern desert. Her body was brought and mummified. She was then locked in a box, cursed against magic, and sealed within this crypt, and buried by the burnt sands.

And she slept, trapped."

***end translation***

I’ve heard rumors and stories that she laid a curse on those whom put her in this place, and sure enough within a year of her imprisonment the Pharaoh of the world was killed.

Bring this tomb here was the most costly move when I came to the states. I dug 5 stories deep, then set this building within that space. We covered the top level with a warehouse as camouflage. You gain access to the space by a well-hidden elevator. It brings you down to the ground level, still packed dirt, and you arrive before this crypt. Stone and paints that were used on this crypt are highly light sensitive, so the entire space is kept in darkness, with the exception of Tina’s workspace, which is lit in Red light. Red light, similar to the light used in Darkrooms.

It was in some disarray when it arrived so I employed Tina to restore the glyphs and runes. She’s been working down here non-stop for a week. When she’s inspired or knows I wish something rest becomes quite secondary. She an amazing artist, and not one known for flights of fancy.

She had sent for me about an hour prior, saying that she was almost completed and wished to show me. When I arrived I found her leaning back on the altar staring at the door of the tomb. She was pale, cold and didn’t respond when I spoke her name. It took some shaking her to bring her back to her senses. She’s almost fainted. She downcast her eyes and made excuses. She’d been working all day, that both Red light and Night Vision are totally unacceptable to work by, and that her hands hurt. I held her firm, not letting go till she looked at me again. I shook my head slightly, side to side. She sighed heavily, and confessed.

She was scared of the tomb, no, scared is the wrong word. She was terrified of it.

She told me she’d been hearing things. That something was moving around down here. She said she hadn’t been sleeping. That she was having nightmares about this place and what lived here. I dialed Ronald, better safe and his presence always eases Tina. In 10 minutes Ronald and a small team of men arrived to secure and search the place. I let Tina rest against me as we waited, I remained as silent as possible, waiting, listening for anything. There was nothing. Tina most likely has too much wine and over worked herself, nothing more. When the team arrived I had them search the area, and I had Ronald take Tina home.

When nothing was discovered I thanked them and dismissed them. Alone I studied the restored tomb under the red lights. Reading the restored glyphs. Studying the architecture. It was incredibly made, most likely by those that were killed in sacrifice to this woman. It was a strange belief; sweat, tears and blood were all believed to have to go into a building to make it complete. Suppose that’s where sweat, blood, and tears sayings come from today.

Contemplating how legends are made and their stories kept throughout the ages. I silently walk forward, touch the crypts outer layers. Surprised, I recoil. There is something here; I can feel it now that I’m alone. Something ominous comes from this tomb, if not super natural it was certainly meant to feel that way. I turn from the tomb to leave, but as I reach the top of the stairwell I feel a cool breeze on the back of my neck, and turn once more to the tomb.

It’s simply ominous. That’s all. Must have been a draft. I shudder slightly and leave the room.

Being sure, at least twice, that the door is locked securely behind me.
Ö

Pike

Tue, 30 Mar 2004 22:07:13 GMT

3.30.04

D’Nile and Surrounding Businesses that Pike Owns and Operates

Pike owns a block of Hartford in the downtown area. The following Businesses are on a block on four different streets. Encompassed in one block are following; D’Nile, G. Sphere, Heart’s Content, Throth’s Advisors, Kai Cloth, and Bazaar; pawnshop. Other businesses or locations are located off the site.

D’Nile: Main room and overview: Pike’s club, made to illustrate his homeland. The club is decorated in an Egyptian style, with some classical elements (statues, hieroglyphs, etc), yet with more modern aspects (lights, haze, etc) as well.

There is a live band every night, often a heavy metal, hardcore, or violent music band. On rare occasions another band is brought in or a softer cover is played in this area.

Strong alcohol served at reasonable prices. Most of the alcohol is Pike’s own brand, and brewed in his factory at his stile and beer making factory, located in the outskirts of Hartford, connected to the club by underground transportation. Some of the alcohols produced are Waters of Lethe, Asp’s Ale, Pike’s Hard Lemonade. All the liqueur is brought in on the underground tram/escape tram.

100 beautiful staff run the place. The look of the men and women is of an Egyptian decent. The women have dark hair and dark features, retaining a voluptuousness. The men have hard bodies (often exposed), olive skin, and handsome features. The men’s features are often lighter, sandy blondes, with blue eyes are there, not common. The men have a dangerous feel to them when moving about, but their smiles can often alleviate all fear. All the staff has a sexual feel to them, staying and talking with parties, dancing for them or with them, or offering other entertainment.

There is a security force, and when in house, and during the day it is run by Ronald, Pike’s ghoul. However they are only in place to make sure nothing happens to the VIPs of the club, and that no property is damaged. They will also remove people that are injured or ODed to the "hospital area." The Security Force is also trained to handle deadly force, and will excise it on any patron that Pike indicates. All areas of the building, inside and out are monitored by a closed circuit digital camera system. All hours are recorded. All a heat scanner is available to identify vampires, if any vampires come into the club they are scanned from the database provided, if they match any known vampires Pike is alerted. If they do not match any known vampire, they are recorded and an entry is made later on. Security force in all is 40 men and women.

The club has multiple dance floors and areas, the main dance floor able to be flooded from the CT River, which is redirected and cleaned before being introduced to the club tenants. The water is then flushed back into the river, hopefully helping the environment some. There are multiple suspended platforms as well, and large video screens.

Golden Sphere; the other half of the club on this level is a classical area, with a opulent restaurant. The restaurant is on hard glass floors and totally eclipsed in a golden sphere, the sphere becomes translucent near the top, where it becomes an giant skylight. A formal attire is required in this area. A live orchestra plays classical music. The security enforcers do not allow anyone to wander from one area to the other. There are two doors leading into this area. You must open one, then wait till it shuts before the second one can be opened. Security can hold anyone in that area they wish. The entertainers here are also formally dressed, but retain their sexual atmosphere.

Throth’s Advisors; a small and private legal firm is run in the top levels of the building. They are quiet and respected in the area for handling small claims. Pike is general manager and frequents them often. They handle small and just claims.

- Carpet wall to wall is the best description. The Receptions area, while well lit, retains a cold efficiency. All the lawyers are well dressed in dark suits, talking constantly. Beyond the receiving area there are cubicles, water cooler, and a boardroom.

Heart’s Content; a 24 hour doughnut and coffee shop is also on the building, serving quick and hot food as well as donuts and coffee. Police eat for free if they are on the night shift or coming off it.

-Your basic greasy spoon. An older couple runs it. The wife is over the hill, but still has a grace about her. Her husband, while having a crude appearance is a truly good man. The diner is a nice spot, it has a large glass windows looking out on the city, and soft mood lighting that makes you sleepy. There’s a long bar, brown and gold on your left. Then sets of booths on your right against the glass. At night the glass reflects everyone in the place. Menu items included, the Half Dozen Special: 6 pancakes, 6 eggs, a craffe of orange juice and a single sausage. The Hamburger Queen: Half a Hamburg, some juice, and a handful of fries.

Kai Cloth; is a 24 hour dry cleaners. Providing quick service in dry cleaning to the area. Located on the street level on the opposite side from the club.

-This area is hot with steam, so much so the windows fog up. A cute little Chinese woman greets you in broken English. She is all smiles and asks how she can help. The design is basic, there’s a counter, two old, broke, plastic chairs, a small withering plant. Beyond the desk there are racks of clothing hanging on a machine run. All clothes are wrapped in plastic. It is difficult to see into the back of the shop, due to steam and so on, but it would appear there is an man back there, doing the wash.

Bazaar; pawnshop; Pike owns and collects items through the pawnshop. The shop is known for getting unusual items, and willing to pay more the more unusual something is.

-The pawnshop is old and dusty. It has shelves of old books and ancient tomes all along its walls. The shopkeeper is an older gentleman, who smokes a long, twisted wooden pipe. The scent of jasmine hangs in the air.

The Building; is fitted with hidden cameras in all areas. The building is flame retardant for the most part. There is a halogen system that can be used in the areas of the clubs. This could be used to put out fire, or cripple all in the building that have to breathe. All security employees have oxygen masks available, and the "Hive" is secured with it’s own air supply. The main area and the Golden Sphere can be sealed and flooded in a moment’s notice, total flooding takes 3mins. The draining of all the water takes 2mins, and all water is drained immediately into the CT River.

All buildings are up to code and all licenses are secured for sales.

The club areas and building is able to be locked down if needed. Per securities request and his promoting, Pike carries a state of the art panic button with him at all times. If there is ever need, and the button is used, then the police are immediately notified and the club is locked down, security secures Pike and removes him to a safe location. The hive is immediately locked down, and secured, the video surveillance switched to remote recording. All recordings or stored information sent to Tram for immediate evacuations.

All areas in the building run on main power of the city. However, there are back up generators to all areas of the clubs and businesses. These generators are carefully hidden and secured on the street level of the club, near the hive. The 5 generators produce their own charge, however, they are charged during the day, via solar power, and by city power. They would retain a 48-hour charge per generator.

The "Hive"; is the main security center. There are no less than 5 people here at a time, monitoring all the cameras and replaying any tape needed. They are on a 5-hour rotation to keep fresh eyes on the monitors. They are always in radio communications with the force on the grounds via landline phones, radios, and signals. The hive is secured against electronic tampering, interference, or disruption. It is operated as a clean room, people are fitted with suits as they enter, they are sealed in, and no unnecessary personal ever enter there. Rotation teams are tightly arranged and specifically chosen.

The street; in front of the club entrance is one way, and only open during the daylight hours to "normal" traffic. In the evening time, there are security check points at either end of the street maintaining and watching the street to make sure no one is driving down it. They are stationed in a guardhouse, with a re-enforced gate. If a VIP, or band is coming to the club that night, they will be allowed access to the street.

Parking; is in an underground garage, one block down from the club, it’s entrance facing away from the clubs entrance, however it is an easy walk to the club. It isn’t associated with the club itself, however is secretly owned and operated by Pike. Pike maintains a secret garage in the basement of the parking area. It looks like there are 5 to 6 cars parked on the spot, but with remote the area lifts and there is a sub basement area with Garage and standby cars. The mechanic, J. L. Ramos, works on the cars in Pike’s garage, making sure they’re primed and ready to go. The cars in the garage are as follows; 1970 Mustang Boss 302, 1972 DeTomaso Pantera, 1999 Lamborighini SV, 2002 Hummer H1, 2004 Suzuki Hayabusa, A yellow Porsche GT3. There is also an emergency street level egress. It would be disguised on the street as an abandon street front. Secret cameras monitor the garage, and there are dummy cameras visible on all levels. All streets and alternative parking areas would be closely monitored from 12am to 6am. Anyone violating parking restrictions would be towed by Whitey’s. Pike would have arrangements with them to help with the towing. Parking for all daytime businesses can be arranged on the street with metered parking.

A camera, as well as human eyes monitor the entrance to the club. There are a minimum of 5 security there at all times. They meet guests, or club goers, there is a simple search and seizure of WEAPONS. Then the patrons are allowed in. There is a mix of men and women so that all people entering can be searched. There is also a metal detector hidden in one of two doorframes. It is monitored by the "Hive."

Secret access: There are tunnels and secret door all through the club, in which Pike or company could escape to safer areas. There are tunnels to connect all areas of the building in a non-chalant way. Pike would appear to be walking out of a bathroom, or into a backroom, and could appear or disappear depending. There is also small holes that are masked as garbage shoots. They are cleaned daily, and they lead to secured tunnels beneath the club. These tunnels are also able to be sealed if a "wash out" was needed. Pike and other setites could use these in Form, a bat would fit, as would shadow or mist. Tunnels are able to be sealed from the sub transportation bay in the tunnel.

The Underground tram, is a small tram that Pike has had constructed, in the tunnels and through the city. Pike had the tunnels constructed, lower than sewer level. The tunnels are re-enforced with steel and have heavy layers of concrete around them. The tram can travel at break neck speeds and can fit up to 4 people at a time. The tram runs to; the brewery, the harbor; an escape house near the airport, a secured house w/security force.

The roof access; The roof is closely monitored, and there are several ways to come and go. Entrances are surrounded in chain link fence, which is electrified, and only able to be shut off from the security office, or by remote, which Pike will carry with him. The fence is locked, as is the door beyond the fence. A camera monitors this area, and the entrance of the door is pressure sensitive. All doors are air tight, and re-enforced.

Meditation and Business

Fri, 26 Mar 2004 20:23:29 GMT

OOC:
***WARNING***
The following contains scenes of violence and bloody gore.
Reader discretion is advised.

IC:
Meditation
Pronunciation: 'me-d&-"tAt
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): -tat·ed; -tat·ing
Etymology: Latin meditatus, past participle of meditari, frequentative of medEri
to remedy -- more at MEDICAL intransitive senses : to engage in contemplation or reflection transitive senses
1 : to focus one's thoughts on : reflect on or ponder over
2 : to plan or project in the mind : INTEND, PURPOSE

This is my definition of it.

I remove the thoughts from my mind. Hesitation, reflection, doubt, these are the words that will get you killed in the world. They could kill me here too. Stripped to the waist I wait in the temple’s receiving area. It is a vast, underground space, held up by four engraved pillars. There are two entrances to the room, both open doorways lead into darkness. The floor is rough cobblestone, filled in with sand from Egypt.

The room holds a dangerous aspect to me. It is lit by hanging orbs filled with oil, the oil burning inside, while controlled is almost everlasting, yet if exposed would be devastating. It was developed in the Middle East and has been appropriately named Greek Fire. The balls are glass, and each hold s oil to sustain the fire that burns from the wicks. The effect is amazing; the area smells pleasant and the firelight reflected down is a glowing red. Beautiful, yet deadly. The room fills me with dread, but surprisingly gives me a sense of exhilaration. I find it best to meditate here.

I breathe in, then out. Softly I touch the staff laying to my right. A short spear from my country, solid wood from a Joshua Tree, carved with glyphs of destruction for my enemies. It is not a weapon I use often, but for this occasion it will serve. Removing my hand from the weapon, I hold both hands outstretched, cupped, and receive the blessing from my God. Then I bring them behind my head, and wash his bless from the back of my neck to the front of my throat.

They enter.

There are 5 men accompanying Mr. Handle. Mr. Horha Handle, until recently had been handling all my street dealings. He moved drugs, enforced where needed, squeezed local business for protection money, and ran a prostitution ring. Mr. Han dle is 21, a Latino, and has lived 5 years longer than he expected to. I watched him come up, at 15 he was jumped into the "Kings" in New Haven. He was a banger for a year. Then he became a lieutenant to a small drug lord under my watchful eye. That drug lord started using his own product and became too much of a risk. Mr. Handle killed him, and took his place. He’s been a leader on the streets and successful, thanks to my presence. Although lately he’s been throwing around some names, names that I do not care to have repeated.

"Wassup esa? Ya called fer me here? This place is whack homes." He glances around, his boys snort in agreement.

"I’ve heard word," I speak without moving. "That you’ve been dropping names on the street. Names that were agreed upon to remain silent."

He shrugs. "Naw man, ya hear wrong." His posture changes, silently he’s signaling to his men to be ready. Some of them shift, reaching for their weapons.

A faint smile reaches my lips. "You know what I hate more than anything in the world Horha?" I stand, spear in hand. "A liar." I turn and throw the spear.

The first one is always free. The spear finds it’s target in the man standing behind Mr. Handle, the spear lodges through the man’s heart, and pins him to the wall. The first one is always free, the rest make you work for it.

The other men draw their weapons and open fire on me. A hail of bullets strikes me, opening wounds that would have killed a man, but I am no man. I fall, silently and still on the ground. They cannot help themselves, they advance to look at me close up. This man who would be so stupid as to just stand there as they opened fire.

They close in a circle around me. Close enough that I can smell tequila on their breath. I strike. Kicking hard I break one of the thug’s legs, he goes down screaming. My hand, hardened into a ridge-fist, comes up and down, striking Mr. Handle’s foot, shattering all the bones therein. He falls cursing. I rise slowly in a fluidic motion. Two of the remaining thugs charge at me, the third thug backs off, reloading, shaking. The first thug over extends his reach; I push him by and at the same time I use my knee to break his ribs, then I drive my elbow into his back, sending him motionless to the floor. As I turn the other thug strikes. He cracks the butt of his gun across my face twice. Recoving unblemished, I grin at him. He screams and swings again. I let the blow bounce off my back as I step within his reach. My hands find the sides of his head, and my thumbs drive into his eye sockets. He screams and blood sprays from his eye sockets. Steeped in blood I make a downward hammer-fist strike to his genitals sending him to the floor.

Kneeling I take stock. Mr. Handle is on the ground, cursing and holding his foot. Thug one has a spear pinned through him, thug two has several broke ribs and a broken back, thug three has passed out from the shock of having no eyes, thug 4 has a broken leg and is trying to reach his weapon on the ground, and thug 5 is shakily reloading.

I stand.

I move to the right, putting myself between the reloading thug and the one with the broken leg. Mr. Handle’s curses are beginning to cut off; soon he’ll be back on his feet. "How many 8-balls did it take to get you down here?" I ask the thug who finally has managed to reload and now is raising his gun at me. Behind me I heard the thug with the broken leg chamber a round. They both fire at the same time, the one standing opening up with his automatic, the thug on the ground firing a single shot, but I am no longer in their way. The bullets shatter the floor, smashing the thug with the broken leg, he spurts and dies. The kid has taken a single bullet to the brain, and he falls backwards as if in a dream. I watch both with a lingering sadness. As the kid hits the ground, his gun goes off, firing at the ceiling. NO! One of the orbs is severed from it s chain, and it begins to fall.

The world slows as the orb falls. It's perfect and majestic in flight. I turn and run at it, even super natural speeds seem futile. The orb seems to fall quicker the faster I run. I see the oil slosh in the glass, the flames dance, all begging to be released. As it nears the floor I dive for it, arm outstretched. I hit the ground hard and come to a stop, my eyes shut tighly in case there is fire. Before I open my eyes I know I have it. I can feel the smooth curve of the glass, and feel the heat from the flames. I've caught it. The glass is intact. The flames still burn. I ride the fear, the exhilaration. I stand slowly with the orb in hand, completely unconscious to the world around me.

The gunshot brings me back into focus. The bullet shatters against me, causing me to jerk slightly, the oil in the orb moves, but remains contained. I turn on Mr. Handle. He has recovered enough strength to draw his 9mm, and has it leveled at me.

"El diablo El diablo." He whispers as he fires again. This time the bullet strikes me in the chest. I recoil slightly.

"The Devil you say." I advance on him as he fires another shot. "No Horha, I am much worse than that." Another shot. "When you plot to kill me." Another shot. "When you fight against me." Another shot. When you lie, to ME!" Two more shots. "I become something far worse than you can imagine." His gun clicks empty, again and again. I stop ten feet from him. "I become judgement. I become…"

I hold the orb high over my head.

"Retribution." I throw the orb.

He is engulfed in flame, the flame does it work quickly. I retreat, ridding the fear of being this close. Watching. I take no joy in this, no love from the battle. This could have been avoided. Done cleaner I tell myself. I could have spiked their next shipment of Cocaine, and they would have all died from that. But there was the chance others would have suffered as well. No, they moved against me, this was nessacary. The fire exhausts as the oil burns away. There is nothing left of Mr. Horha Handle, save some black dust, and a burned up 9mm.

I wrestle with my demon. It had to be done, but did it have to be done like this? With my own hand. The resolve takes form. It had to be done, and it had to be done personally, how else would they have known how much you loved them. They were your children, and now they have been punished. Set will have work for them now, now that they are cleansed.

I kneel once again, meditating, and give thanks to God. Thank you Father for seeing me through this, and seeing these children safely home.

Hunting

Wed, 24 Mar 2004 19:50:14 GMT

She takes a moment to let her eye adjust to her new surrounding. She deftly covers this by adjusting her skintight skirt, perhaps a size to small, but it only complements her figure. The club is crowded tonight, thick with predators of all natures. She is different though. Having made her way pass security she moves slowly into the club. Her dark eyes shift from one thing to another, glancing casually, yet completely observant of her surroundings.

She weaves through the crowded dance floor, making her way for the bar. She maneuvers the crowd with ease, avoiding head bangers, ravers, and the mash pits. Someone grabs her, not surprising with the amount of flesh she has for targeting. With a smile and a fist she comes in swinging, teaching them that she is not prey. Security moves in, but they only removed the mess of man on the ground. She’s long gone from that scene, disappeared for the moment, no doubt in the ladies room to straighten her self. Cannot hunt wounded or out of sorts. There she is, moving from the ladies room she continues her search for prey.

The stairwell to the VIP area is guarded and no one may acend without permission. The guards are two young, strong men, and no match for her. She waits for her moment. When some bare flesh is shown in the crowd, the guards are momentary distracted and she moves by them without making a sound. Silently she climbs the staircase to the top level. "The Penthouse," as it has been nicknamed. Her fingers work the lock, and she’s inside.

The room is designed much like the club is. It houses areas for all entertainment. Be it eating, socializing, smoking or drinking. Additionally it has a place for business, a safe, and money. The room is carpeted in a fine, tan-gold silk. Sofa’s and chairs all draped in silk are place about the room. There is a large bank of windows that over look all the happenings in the club. The man stands there, stripped to the waist, waiting for her.

"Pike?" her voice trembles.

"Cinda, so pleased you coul d make it." I turn on her. She starts as she always does, tries to run as she always does, but she can’t. Her world is lost in the golden sea that is before her, transfix in the eyes of the serpent. She has found what she was drawn to, what she wanted this evening, but not as she thought it would be. She finds herself, as I close on her, not as the hunter, but as the prey. Lured into the traps without even knowing. Her blood tastes of honey. She is descended from a line of kings, and has never kno wn it. Such a waste that heritage is lost on the youth.

But not on I.

Her eyes squint against the sunlight. Her heart is full of happiness, her body still reeling from the pleasures it experienced. She stirs in her bed and smiles. She stretches f or the man that has caused her all this, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Typical male. She sits up, dropping her head into her hand. She’s light headed. When the world stops spinning she looks up and notices the vase full of roses, a gif t left for her. She wonders curiously at them. Who was it? She remembers so little; a draw, a club, passion, strong arms cradling her, a light kiss, and brown eyes. But nothing more.

She sighs to herself. Another night of searching then.

Till she finds him again.

An introduction

Wed, 24 Mar 2004 13:41:31 GMT

A qutoe to suit my needs;

"I am Ti'amat; I am Apophis; I am Leviathan and Zohak and Yamm. I am Typhon and Python and Ladon and Hydra; I am Ananta and Vritra. I am Quetzalcoati and Kukulkan and Tleneemaw and Uktena; I am Nidhoggr and Jormungandr; I am Satan.
"I am the Ouroboros.
"I am Heisenberg's uncertainty and Godel's incompleteness; I am the second law of thermodynamics. I am the unconscious made conscious; I am the one who shaves the barber; I am Chaos; I am Paradox.
"I Am What Is Not."

-Wyrm
by Mark Fabi

Dreams

Tue, 23 Mar 2004 18:22:04 GMT

What was it he said?

A volcano erupted. A man awoke. He walked through the lava. He was not harmed.

The ocean boiled. She awoke. Life died. She lived again. She is walking slowly along the bottom.

A city collapsed. The flesh underneath shifted. Formed. Screamed.

The Sands are disturbed.

I am upon the sands. Bare. The sands cool against my scales. I have seen these sands for so many years. Something rolls in my fist. I raise my hand without lowering my head. My great, taloned hand comes into view. I turn it slowly and glare into the eye of my enemy, ripped out so long ago. The Aeons will know my wrath, my children will hear my song, and the world as we know it will be cast into darkness. As I once was. "Hear my words child, and know that I am coming. Find me. Find me, Alexander."

I awoke with a start. A thin sheet of blood covers my body. I have not rested the full day, and the sun's weight is upon me. Slowly I uncoil the sheets that have tightened upon me. A dream? Was that all it was? I recall the fear that I first encountered when I was told of these things. Bone. Damn him first. A dream, that's all it was.

I rise from the bed, leaving the sleeping follower, clad in blood not her own. In the darkness I stare at her, scowling. The blood compliments her frame making her more attractive to me. But I stifle that desire. She is unworthy of the blood she sleeps in. I turn to the room, the darkness, and take my first steps. I’ve memorized this room, and all the places within this temple from the time they were built. From the bed, pass the table, avoid a statue, and I find my way to the washing chamber.

The washing chamber is made of stone, lit with torches and heated with braizers. This room has a relaxing and pleasant feel. I always found torchlight to be less offensive. It also gives the room the respect and awe inspiring beauty it deserves. The walls are painted in ancient scenes of life, as I once knew it. Tina, being as talented as she is, has re-created this place to fit my pleasure and relax my mind.

It is my custom to bathe when I awake. Ronald knows this. Attentive as ever, he is aware I have risen and has drawn hot water for me. The servants are awake and aware of my presence. However, as good servants should be, they are never seen, yet close enough so if I called they would be there in a moment. "Good help is so hard to train." I muse to the walls.

I soak in the water trying to clear my thoughts of these recent dreams. Of course, it’s not only a dream. Bone, what I mistook for a maniac, had the gift of sight. He’d seen: the Tahitian volcanic eruption; the pacific fisherman that reported finding hundreds of boiled fish; and the destruction of New York City. Now the claims within the blood that the Father has returned.

Dark times are coming.

The thought of that makes me smile.

A warning.

Tue, 23 Mar 2004 01:17:57 GMT

What you are about to read is a pure work of fiction. With no basis in reality as anyone knows it. These things captured here are my memories, and the Truth as I know it to be. But there is deception in my speech, believed lies in my actions, and treachery in my mind. That is the warning to the reader. Believe nothing. Trust no one. And most importantly have faith.

As I do.

Alexander Pike