Excerpt from police report at scene of gangland massacre:

I have never seen anything like this before.  After all my years in homicide, never such massacres have I borne witness to.  Bodies all over, some whole, some far less than such, only to find their pieces strewn impossibly far away.  The scene was covered in blood.  What ever this was, it was personal.  These guys pissed off the wrong people.  People who wanted them to suffer, not just to die.  I judge a few were lucky enough to die quickly but it seems that several tried to run but were never made it to the safety of the street.  Maybe it was the mob but this seems a little bloody and savage even for them.  No clues have made themselves into positive leads as yet.

Excerpt from the diary of Lucinde McIntyre:

   I was so scared.  I still am, even after all these years.  After they forced me into the back of the van and I realized what was going on they hit me.  Hard enough that I woke up handcuffed to something and blindfolded.  It was hours before I heard something other than their loud bravado.  They gave me some water.  I slept but not soundly.  Of all the things this had to happen too.  First my father, then my husband and now me.  Poor mom, how much more grief can she take?  How much more of this can I take.  I was crying when I woke up, the faces of my past stilled burning my vision.  Why?  Why me?
   I can hear voices speaking, someone has come.  Looking for me?  No.  Who would come for me?  All those I cared for were dead or dying.  Except…
Without seeing I knew he had arrived.  The awful thunder of guns echoed in my ears.  The screams soon drowned out the gunfire, nothing this side of heaven would stop those sounds from entering my dreams, even now.  So loud, I wished it would stop.  Stop the suffering.  Then…
Silence.  I was deafened by the abrupt silence.  It was so sudden I almost wished the gunfire would start again.
   Footsteps.  Someone's coming, something's coming.  I knew he was there before I saw him.  Before I heard the rending of the door like tissue paper, before my blindfold was removed.  He cradled me in his arms like some avenging angel.  I felt safe.  He carried me up the stairs… and then I saw hell.  He had rescued me, perhaps from death but…I haven't slept soundly since that day, always waking with tears in my eyes.  The carnage…

   I carried her from her prison, relieved to hold her again.  When I came out of the stairs and carried her past her captors she struggled to free herself from my  grasp.  Like my very touch was fire in her bones, her beautiful eyes fearful to gaze upon me lest they fall from their place…
   “Lucinde…?”
   Her silence spoke more than words ever could.  In the midst of all that silence the only sound was that of her heart breaking.  She fled from the monster that she now knew I was.

    That was decades ago.  Now I gaze at the page open before me, the page that cost me a true love.  I had to do it.  I thought I was being human, that is how it works.  You can't avoid it, it is always apart of us regardless of motive.
   One million, or she dies.  I lost her not to death, but to the reality of what I am.  A monster garbed in flesh.

In the Darkest Night
Chapter 3 - How I came to be
By Tim Stobbs

    I woke early the next night; the faintest touch of pink filled the horizon.  I stood there at the window with the memory of the sun in the sky.  The sun, the great prize I shall never see again.  Yes, there were coloured motion pictures of sunrises, yet it is not the same - it lacks the warmth on my face.
     It has been 800 years since I last saw the sun.  I remember that day like no other.  I was a mere twenty five years old that morning.  I was living in London at the time, attending university. I was learning of the science of chemistry, which at the time was almost nothing compared to that of the modern 20th century chemistry that exists today. But my father, a rich merchant, had insisted that I enter the university, and I fell in love with the science after my first experiment.  It exploded in my face, filling the room with beautiful grey smoke.
     My life was one of happiness and content until that point, being the youngest of three brothers.  On my own for the first time in my life in the great city of London, I grew strong in confidence of my independence.  During this time, I found the first love of my life, Catherine.   We spent long summer days on picnics and were deeply in love with each other.  In fact, we talked of marriage, but everything was about to change.
     The day started like many others, I was up early and was getting ready for my classes of the day.  I took a moment and watched the sun as it rose, never knowing that it was my last.  The wind was brisk and my spirits high as I went to class.  We learned more from discussion than we ever did from our readings, and that was the key to our education at that time.
     That afternoon, I went to Catherine's house and asked her hand.  My love accepted, and her parents approved and blessed the marriage.  I was a mere five blocks from my front door when She came.
     She stepped out of the shadows without a sound.  I jumped at her sudden appearance.  She was dressed in a man's black suit, and her long black curls ran down from her head to her pale cheeks.  She was very beautiful, with soft rounded features and dark eyes.  She looked at me and smiled.  My thoughts were turning to why she was out all alone in the streets; she could be in danger.
     "Excuse me Miss, do you need some help, are you lost? Would you like for me to escort you home?" I removed my hat and did a small bow.  She only smiled again, and laughed.  The laugh was dark and hollow.
      Then she spoke in a rich, deep voice. "No, I am not in need of any help, but aren't you a kind man." By this time, she was in front of me.  With one hand, she brushed her fingers over my cheek, while saying "And so handsome, I think I shall have to reward you for your good nature."
     I was about to say I was engaged to be wed, when in a flash she was at my neck.  I felt a sharp pain, and then I began to feel weak.  I was unable to move, struck still by fear and the strength of her arms.  I was falling fast, the world was going black, and I felt myself dying in her arms.  And just before I thought I was going to lose consciousness, I felt a thick liquid at my mouth, and I heard the rich voice say, "If you wish to live, you must drink. Drink and be strong. Drink."  Unable to do anything else, I drank.  I sucked the thick liquid into me, then I felt a fire as the it hit my stomach.  It spread from my stomach to the rest of my body.  Then the pain hit in a wave of untold agony.  I screamed into the night, and then the pain was gone as soon as it had started.
     I opened my eyes and beheld the marvelous world that I now witness every night.  It was all so clear.  My God,  the details I never seen till that point, the subtle pattern of the cobblestones in the street, the wonder of watching a drop fall and seeing the countless things floating in a seemingly clear water.  I was growing dizzy with the assault of my newfound senses.  The world was alive like it never was before.  I could see better than an eagle, and just as far.  I could barley stand it.  My mind was almost being crushed by the power of my new vampiric senses.
     Then I heard her voice again; it was wondrous, full of subtle rises and falls of volume that I never heard before now.  "Shut it out, close your mind.  You must control your senses or go mad." So I concentrated, I shut out the feelings of the breeze on my skin, I shut out the details of my vision, and I shut out the distant sounds of the city at night.  I shut it all out but her voice. I then looked at her calmly while she continued. "Now, listen.  This is my gift to you, eternal life.  You shall never grow old, you will never feel physical pain, you will be able to read men's thoughts, and move at speeds unimaginable to you till now.  But beware, you will never see the sun, for it and fire will destroy you completely.  Those and only those things will make you truly dead. However, the price for this is all so simple... you must feed.  Feed on the blood of your once fellow man, and only the living.  Never from the dead."
     Then with that she smiled once more, and turned to leave. "Wait!" I cried. "What am I? Why can't I see the sun? What about..." But then, she was gone, almost disappeared on the spot. Yet with my new senses I got a glimpse of her down the street, running faster than humans could follow.  I began to run after her to ask her more, but she was too fast.  I ran a block and was terrified of the Dark speed.  I reverted to mortal speed, and realized I was orphaned.  I knew not what I was, or what I could do.  I didn't even know how I was to feed from my fellow man.  Standing for the first time in the Endless Night, I was alone in the dark and terrified of what this immortality was doing to me.  I did not realize the full meaning of what had transpired, until much later that night.
     Standing alone in the street, I realized I was extremely thirsty, as if I had never drank before in my life.  Thinking I was mortal, I drank beer at a local tavern to calm my nerves.  Just after I took my first big mouth full, my stomach started to tighten and I fell to the floor in pain.  I vomited the foul drink, and then the smell hit me.  The sweet smell of honey, and flowers, and every good thing to eat in this world, it was the smell from the man helping me to my feet.  It was his blood.
     However, later, after the pain came, and under the weight of the need to feed, I fell from grace.  I killed.  My first kill was an old woman by the side of a house.  Homeless and poor, she was nothing to the world.  I was watching her, and realized that she wanted to die.  I read her mind.  I was frightened of this power.  Yet, with her wishes, I came to her.  I helped her to her feet, saying, "Come, I will take care of you."  And when she was standing I bent down and used my new fangs to bite her neck.  It came forth in a rush.  Dark, sweet, and liquid joy, it poured from her into me.  I did not care then for killing her; I did not care about what I was, I just wanted to stay there, drinking until I died.  However, she died first in my arms.  Limp, I put her body to the ground.
     I felt ashamed of what I had done, but I liked it.  Was I evil for it?  Or was I just a pawn in a bigger game of life and death, between god and the devil?  I did not know.  But as I lay down with the coming of dawn in the cellar of some long unused house, I was filled with questions and no answers.  I didn't know then that there are always questions.
     "Ready dear?" Diane stood behind me, dressed for our evening at the theater, in a crimson red dress and high heel shoes.  I awoke from my daydream, and let the past slip back into the past.  I turned to her and smiled.
     "Yes, let's be off.  Another night, another drink." I said after a moment.  I in my suit, and Diane in her dress, went down to the waiting car which speed us off to a showing of one of our favorite plays,  "Hamlet".  After the play we would be hungry and have to find some young couple to feed on, but that never was a problem.
 

A Conversation
(Some information has been censored due to its sensitive nature)

-  I'm not hearing very good news across my grapevines.

- Um... that's bad. News about what?

- You and I, and the working relationship that I feel is being strained once again.

- Ah.  And I suppose you feel you can trust these sources implicitly?  Kind of like a certain clan-mate of yours could implicitly trust his source that ended up with an embarrassing assault of a Primogen member?

- I never said that I trusted what I had heard, but it did put doubt into my thoughts. It's happened before.

- So, all it takes is a rumor-notoriously unreliable-to make you doubt the workings of the Camarilla in Saskatoon?

- I figured to be on the safe side, I should ask you about it, so as I could deal with those who were making trouble by spreading lies about you. Do you plan to remove my title?

- I've been advised to by some I trust and respect and some that I don't. Do you mind my asking who says I'm going to do this?

- And what do you plan to do with that advice? And of course, I'd be putting my source in jeopardy, correct?  If you think about it, who have you met with recently that might have a loose tongue?

- Anyone with a tongue.  My experience in Politics tells me that anyone who can speak - and some who can't - will do so.  Any one of four people who have offered up their advice on the matter may have brought it to your attention, and all gave the distinct impression that everything was confidential.  It's a matter of the honor of your source.  I want to find out who mislead me. On the other matter, I'm pretty upset about your judgment call regarding <name1>.  I haven't finalized the decision yet.

- Then I freely give the name of the one who betrayed your confidence:  <name2> Realize that by doing this I most likely sever the information ties that I had with him. My judgment call?  I was under the impression that we had come to an understanding, and that it was your final judgment.  If it was not so, why then did you agree with me?

- I'm confused.  I said to you, "I need this body Obfuscated and brought to my limousine."  I turned and began walking to the limousine.  I did not ask for <name1> to carry the body.  Do you remember the situation happening otherwise? Worry not; <name2> will not know about this conversation; I simply will add him to my list of persons not to trust.  He's not important enough for me to waste my time with; at worst, I'll explain the generalities of the situation to Mr. <name3>, who would take care of it.

- I did not feel it was appropriate for me to carry the body outside to your car, for any passerby to see.   However, you have already punished <name1> and our clan for his actions through our Primogen at the time.  Why once again are you using me as a scapegoat?

- I don't understand.  How is <name4> being punished for this?  Would it have been a problem for you to handle the situation yourself?

- Do you want me to handle <name1>'s education personally?  If you did, why did you leave it for us to discuss?  <name4> didn't indicate that you were displeased at our decision when he phoned to report it to you.

- Hrm.  Yes.  It was a punishment for <name1> that his Acknowledgment be withdrawn.  In my grace, I offered to commute the sentence if you would take him on.  Again, this was <name1>'s sentence.  You asked that <name5> be the one to tutor him, due to greater age, and despite your greater status.  I granted that.  I had a further phone call, with no warning that it would be such, that <name4> was willing to take <name1> under his wing.  This was never part of what I had agreed to, but nonetheless I continued to grant the <clan1> the life of <name1>.  I fail to see how any of these things have anything to do with your glaring lack of judgment.

- My point was that you had already dealt out the punishment for what had happened.  You know damn well that I had no way of knowing what would happen.   This is starting to sound familiar.

- I don't see your point at all.  I trusted you.  You broke that trust.  <name1> was punished, and with a more severe punishment that you would get, as you didn't do so bad an action.  Nonetheless, you still haven't answered my question: is there a reason you couldn't have brought <name6> out yourself? Familiar... how do you mean?

- It  would have breached the Masquerade!  I can't cloak a gathering yet!

- You didn't tell me this.  I cannot read your mind.  Besides, I thought that an unconscious body could be Obfuscated without advanced powers, just as a stick or a bag of cloth.

- Well, it can't.  Imagine the things we could do if we could!  Something that big is just too much for my abilities - which is why I grabbed the closest guy that I knew could do it - unfortunately, as it turns out, that was <name1>.

- And that's where my problem with the situation begins.  It's important that you be completely honest with me.  There wasn't a huge rush; you could have simply said, "Wait," and explained the situation.  <name1> has a rather spotty history, and you nearly cost him his life with that move.  In addition, it seems that you have but a 9th generation Toreador Antitribu in the hands of a Rogue Tremere Methuselah.

- I was a bit stressed out.  I had just torpored a Sabbat that showed up, and barely escaped the claws of the most powerful Vampire I've ever tangled with.   I think I understand.  I made the mistake of trusting <name1>, and should take responsibility for that.   If our roles were reversed, however, I don't think that you would have heard about this from Clan Fucking <clan2>!

- I nearly agree.  I can see your problem with this.  Don't dismiss <name2>'s hand in this.  Remember: he brought the subject up with me.  He is the one who has been complaining of the stranglehold on power that the <clan1>  have.  He's not coming to you with rumor to help defend you; he's coming to you with it to cause a rift in our friendship!  <name2> knows that I will not accept his judgment without serious consideration; he has been right about some things in the past.  He is simply counting on the strength of his word to be able to transform his own rumor into reality. Don't fall for this, <name7>!  Games of political machination will only weaken us in a time when we most need solidarity-we are faced with an ancient and terrible Tremere, and must present a common front!

- Again, I never said I believed <name2>.  I wanted to check up on how things stood, and now you know who the rat is. So what of me?  We can get to Mikhail in a couple minutes.  Do you accept the counsel of these four others, and cast your ally to the dogs?  You spoke of trust.

- No, I do not wish to, as you say, cast an ally to the dogs.  I would like to formally reprimand you, however, and consider this it: think well on your actions taken in an official capacity, as they reflect ever so much more on your position than your personal ones.  Worry not about asking questions: Machiavelli lauds Philopoemen, Prince of Achaei, for his willingness to ask his contemporaries questions.

- I've never read Machivelli.