Title: a vampiric (.statue.)
Description: John
Kella Credence Diesel - July 23, 2007 01:53 AM (GMT)
The stars shone brightly from behind the cloak of night. It was a beautiful sight of feeling infinite when one peered up into that big, black sky that seemed to be virtually empty. The half-full moon peered down with what seemed to be an incandescent light like a lighthouse guiding the weary black sea. It was early, or late, about three AM to be exact. Some said that was early, some said it was late, but it didn’t really matter to Kella, a vampire that did not seem. People were still out and about, either coming and going from club to club, club to home, café to home, home to café, anywhere that Paris had to offer them. The night was a nice night for walking – still light enough to walk and see, just cool enough to almost be chilly, and apparently eerie enough for the humans to travel in doubles or packs. Some were paranoid and some just didn’t give a rat’s ass about it. There was an occasional one person walking, but just by looking at them they were mostly likely a vampire or werewolf. To the human eye, nobody could tell, so they blended in quite nicely. It was a wonder that the human race hadn’t been finished off when there were so many unruly creatures lurking about in the shadows, taking deep breaths of their fast coursing blood in their husk.
On a bench sat a woman, but not just any woman, a leader of many demons that would certainly not think twice of murdering a human for a feast. There she sat, almost like a statue in a pale yellow dress with a black buckle, a soft trench coat with the collar pulled up around her neck, and legs crossed with fishnets and calf high suede boots. An interesting pairing for the woman of power – where was the leather? The gun holster? It didn’t matter much for her hands were stronger than any weapon, much quicker by far. Just the look of her didn’t stop people from crossing to the opposite side of the sidewalk to avoid her with the wind blowing the skirt of her dress and her hair out behind her. The breeze was chilly, but to somebody who couldn’t feel it, it wasn’t a problem. Her ember eyes watched as they moved in packs of friends, lovers, or just plain alone. She could smell their blood inside of them and oh how she craved it!
Sitting there was a test, to see if she could push her limits to stop herself from feeding, from digging her fangs into any passerby, to taste their warm wonderful blood. That thought was not helping her. Not near any vendors in a grand park that offered many a service for them, she could smell grease, the grounds of coffee, various meal components, and even the stainless steal of the moving store. The amusement park on the opposite side of the park was also a valuable place to listen from. Screams! These were fake screams for if they were truly real then they would be screaming for sanctuary. This was a fact that Kella knew from personal experience before she took a life, something that she was really craving to do. She could smell their coursing blood through those stupid bodies. The screams were a turn on for a hunt. She could feel it warm inside her pelvis. This feeling set her eyes off into a black, but to only fade into a dull ruby color. Hands in her pockets, her tongue ran over her fangs and sighed. Before the night was over with, she'd make sure that she would feed...long and hard.
John Daniel Torrance - July 23, 2007 04:19 AM (GMT)
A man walked alone down the park. Dressed in a black suit top and matching pants, the middle aged man made his way down the dark path without the least bit of fear. Though his face was pale and old, his white combed back hair made the man look more important, like someone rich. This however, had been one of those men who indeed were rich, and were important, which was exactly why he was being hunted. Several yards away, hidden within the trees, was John. Wearing a black leather coat and thin, matching vest and pants underneath, John was now practically invisible to human eyes. It had been the time of the night where the vampires and werewolves roamed around freely and did what ‘normal’ people would do during the day. John’s victim had not only been rich and important, but also depressed. He had been depressed from his wife’s ‘sudden death’, from his son’s kidnapping, from the bankruptcy of his company. The man had been depressed, because the world has turned against him. An hour or so before the man had entered the park, he did what anyone else would do if he lost all that he had; drink. Using a large sum of his remaining money, the man purchased large amounts of alcohol and cocaine, and used it all up in one day. This act would have killed a human, but John’s victim survived, and he had survived because he was a vampire.
The aged vampire continued to walk through the path, his eyes and face fixed in one direction. The man was ready to move on, and so was John. As soon as the man took another step, John acted quickly and leaped towards the man, shortening the distance between them as John let his weapon do the rest. John shot out his weapon at the man, a meat hook at the end of a chain, and the hook stabbed through the vampire’s chest and out the shoulder blade. Blood splattered around the wounds and covered the man in its rich, crimson color before either John, or the man could react. The blood flying out into the air was a signal for John to pull, and he did so in an instant. In mere seconds, John had gone from yards to just inches away from his prey as the aged vampire lay still on the ground in front of John, his drugged body still not aware of what had happened. The cold chain wrapped around his fist, John lifted his hand and the man along with it on the hook. Lifting the man enough so that their eyes met, John looked at the vampire’s eyes to read his emotion. Surprisingly to John, his victim did not show the slightest bit of fear or agony, just pride.
“Go ahead, kill me. But the coven will live on....Now end my suffering, I wish to meet my family in the life beyond” The vampire said in a weak voice as he coughed blood onto John’s coat. “Hah, that’s funny. It really is fucken’ funny. T’s funny that you’re givin’ me orders, ‘ven when your life‘s at stake...You Sanguinaire shits are so full of ya’self. Fantasizin’ about some ‘happy’ world. Let me tell ye’ something. The reason that only your wife’s head was found, was because I used this very hook to hang ‘er by the neck, as I forced her to watch me skin ye’ son alive.” John said as he watched the vampire’s expression change. Then quickly, John pulled out a large butcher knife and sliced at the vampire’s neck, cutting his head right off and blood sprayed all around him.
A few minutes after the murder, John walked along the park with a satisfied grin. His combat boots crushing the grass with each step, John twirled the bloody meat hook and chain at his side as he continued to walk. Then John noticed a familiar face not too far away from him, sitting on a bench. Walking towards the bench, John continued to twirl the chain at his side, spreading the scent of blood all around him, but as he got closer to the bench, he stop twirling and put the chain away under his coat. Only a few feet away from the bench, John gave a friendly smile and nodded at the person as the approached. ”Evenin’ miss Diesel. What brings ye’ out here tonight?”
Kella Credence Diesel - July 23, 2007 07:59 PM (GMT)
Blood, it was the one thing that she loved to inhale thoroughly – the plasma, the sweet sticky goodness that provided life or insanity, but the thing that really got her going was the thought of blood would lead to death. Death was just so attractive how could anybody deny it the spindly fingers that would grasp onto their inner life core to shred it all away. But then again, she could remember, so many years ago, what it had been like to be human, to fear the shadows and what lurked there. At some point in her life she had been a timid girl that wished nothing more than to lock herself away from disease and fear. Things changed though. Instead of being succumbed by fear, she held a higher power that she had to help out her family since that was all she really had. So she ended up working in a Burlesque house, which was one of the most frightening things she had ever really done with all of those men and all of those people. But, she had overcome fear and enjoyed it, loved it – the eyes that would watch her, being in the limelight, the stress, and just being admired. It was a craving that she enjoyed and undoubtedly missed. Maybe it was being provocative and coy, or just because it had been something she was good at.
Sitting there, mind drifting away to back in the day, her nose picked up more heavily distinct plasma that drew her back into the real world. It was not human blood, but vampire. It didn’t cause any alarm or red flags to fly up into her head. If it was one of her own, they had probably done something to deserve it, and if it wasn’t one of her own, then they had still probably done something to deserve it. Saliva thickened on her tongue at the thought of a kill. Power, it’s what Kella held, what she always craved, just like blood and the sexual attention. The test made her stronger, but it made the hunt all the more enjoyable. When one didn’t feed for awhile, it made them crave it more, made them enraged, and when they did feast, they went out of their way to feed more, and sometimes even on the werewolves. That was real power, to sink fangs into the nasty fur of a wolf to have them be eaten inside out. The thought alone did not help her with control, to hone in on the skill. Twisting her neck back and forth, listening to her spine pop, she breathed in a big gulp of night air.
She could sense him before he approached her, the blood still on him. It was not due to her smelling, but just one of the things the leader could do. Many rumors had passed around the coven that she was a psychic because of all the things she knew. No, no psychic, but she did have the ability to ‘feel’ – somebody stepped into a room behind her back, she’d be able to sense them and who they generally were. Psychic abilities did not take hold of her, but had something to do with her servants listening in on everything. But Kella’s hearing had always seemed far more superior then others. It was probably her own ego getting to big, thinking that she was the all high and mighty ruler of the beasts that she herself was. Wetting her lips, she let her prominent fangs embed themselves into her lip, creating small caters of blood in which she drank. It wasn’t for the blood. For quite awhile now, she would dig her fangs into her own skin. It just felt good, and usually kept her sane in a world of insanity and chaos, most of which she helped create.
Twisting her head mildly, ember eyes flashing ruby, she looked at her spy, moving her head back and forth as if admire some sort of aura around him. The tools were a nice touch of power. She was a big fan of swordsmanship; hence the diamond encrusted sword and dagger set that lay in her quarters. A sword was much more powerful to her then a gun, more control. Then again, she always enjoyed cleaning either gun or sword. She was meticulous about it, making sure to get every spot. Yet again, it was all about the power, plus she enjoyed that intoxicating smell of the cleaner in which the vampire ‘huffed’. ”Waiting, John.” she responded, twisting her head back forward. The next inevitable question would be: ‘For what?’ ”To feed. Building up to the climax, I could say.” There was nothing better than putting fangs in a human to taste their blood, hear their protests, and watch their life fade into nothing.
John Daniel Torrance - July 23, 2007 09:09 PM (GMT)
Standing still next to the bench, John stood still and listened to Kella as he took in the smell of blood from the air around him. ”Ah, I see. Well ah’ just fed a while back, so the thirst is gone for now” John said as he took out the chain and wrapped it around his hand, holding up the meat hook as he licked the blood off. The taste of vampire blood had always given John a distinct rush, something that human, or animal blood was not able to do. The meat hook now clean, John slid it back under his coat and grinned. Nights like these had been the reason why John continued to do his job without a single complain. The thrill of the hunt, the rush he felt as he tortured his victim, and the sweet relief from his thirst as he fed.
”I have killed a wealthy Sanguinare not too long ago miss Diesel. I have taken most of his money and placed it in the Meutrier treasury, all in cash of course. I have also taken the time to kill his family as well, just incase they might go around, looking for vengeance.” he explained. This murder had not been an order from the Coven, and had not even been approved by any of the higher-ranked members, which could have led John into some trouble. ”I’m sorry that I have killed a Sanguinare without proper approval, but with my knowledge over politics, and our current situation, I have concluded that this man had to be removed. I am truly sorry if this has gone against your wishes miss Diesel.” John said respectfully, dropping the formal tone he had used earlier. One of John’s habits was that he never talked normally with any one who had some sort of importance in the coven. Never was he formal with any of them unless asked to be, and even then he always addressed them by ‘sir’, ‘ma’am’, or their last name.
”Also miss Diesel, I wanted to ask you about the werewolves and our relationship with the packs. I have tracked down a few werewolves hunting down some vampires. I was not sure who the wolves or the vampires belonged to, so wanted some information before I acted.” John continued on, trying to keep the conversation business related.
Kella Credence Diesel - July 23, 2007 11:19 PM (GMT)
So he had just fed, that would explain the undying urge to do it herself. When any vampire around her had fed recently, it only boiled her blood and made her want to as well. Perhaps it had to do with not getting it so she wanted it. It sounded like a werewolf thing with them hunting in packs, but that was only because they were so idiotic that they couldn’t bring down their prey alone. Using as much mental strength as she had left, which wasn’t a lot for her brain was slowing and she desperately wanted a rest, the thought of blood was pushed from her minds to wonder about other things, like her complete disdain for a lycan. Just the thought of one would cause her blood to steam! They were so pathetic and useless that most of them didn’t even want to mate with their species! Vampires couldn’t mate, well, they could, but they just wouldn’t become pregnant, which was one of the best things to some of her clan. They were out going at it like…well…dogs and not even with their own species. In all actuality, she could see where somebody would enjoy a thrill such as that, mating with a human.
Listening carefully him, the vampire almost looked cold all huddled up in her coat, which was impossible since temperature did nothing to a bloodsucker. She nodded her head up and down in what could have been called a calm matter, but this was Kella Diesel, a feared leader that could bluff better than anybody else. What might look like a state of calm might possibly be royally pissed off and what royally pissed off looked like could really be sadness. Nobody could completely pinpoint her emotions since sometimes they seemed to not exist at all while other times they were too difficult to read. Many had given up, which was for the best. They just labeled her a cold-hearted bitch and went on with it. Shock did not flicker its tongue. The leader knew what her spy was a capable of and while she did not appreciate him going rogue on her, she had to appreciate his business. He was good and she knew that he knew what he was doing.
Wealthy meant more money, which was always pleasant since stealing could get boringly dull. Even though she was all for killing the humans, suspicion towards them did not bide well with her. It would not take long for all of the humans to get smart to come after them all. There was no fear with this thought, but one should always tread that water with caution. At least John had cleaned up all the split ends. She thought it like she hadn’t expected such a good move from him. If there were ever a time she had to replace him, she would not find anybody as good. If he died, she’d find a way to kill him worse. Rubbing her temple, feeling downright frustrated, not with him though, she nodded and looked please. ”It’s fine. I just thank you for informing me.” He knew well what she’d do if she found out from somebody else.
Business, business, business! It sucked out her soul! All work and no play made Credence one angry leader, which no good came from. She’d bellow, attack her own people, and just down right went a form of crazy. Holding in her sigh, shoulders rolling in their sockets similar to getting out a kink in her spine, those ruby-ember orbs perched upon his frame. ”Yes, yes of course. Please, have a seat.” A hand waved by the empty spot on the bench for John. Talking, she could do that. Later, play would come, and no in feeding or hunting. Leading, business, it seemed that was what she was there for anyway.
John Daniel Torrance - July 24, 2007 03:52 AM (GMT)
”Any time miss Diesel. It is my job after all”
As John took another breath of the air, he felt the vampire’s blood working into his. The intoxicated blood of that vampire had passed on into John’s and he felt a bit of alcohol rush into his system. Unlike a lot of the other vampires, John did not drink. He had no need or wanting for alcohol and being drunk, however, he did not mind having a bit of alcohol in his blood. It helped him enjoy the blood a bit more. Many of the vampires asked John why he continued to drink vampire blood, or werewolf blood, and the questions continued but John never gave an answer, he really had no reason to. He drank blood, because he wanted to, and he drank vampire blood for the same reason.
Being told to sit down, John nodded and did so without hesitation. Walking around her, he sat on the bench next to her and leaned back to look at the stars. The night sky always brought John a warm feeling of comfort, and was one of those few things in the world that made him calm. Then coming back to reality, John faced Kella and gave a small smile. ”What is it miss Diesel? Something bothering you?” John asked in the same, serious tone as before. Of course, if something had been wrong, John would have gladly tried to help, but this time John had absolutely no clue to why she was in such a state. He blamed it on the lack of communication between him and basically everyone else in the world. Still, John liked being alone, and he liked not having friends, but because of the lack of communication, he had no idea how anyone thought. ”…Is there anything I can do for you?”
[ooc: ugh, this is really short. Sorry.]
Kella Credence Diesel - July 25, 2007 07:06 PM (GMT)
Yes, his job. It always astounded her that it was his job because nobody should’ve been good at their job, at least not that good. He could kill meticulously, quickly or slowly, and used so many different that it was just down right creepy. It could be totally uncomforting just thinking about things that he could do or had done already. He seemed particularly fine with the horror he brought, but then again he was Meutrier, vampires who’d kill for pleasure. A minority of them though did, at some point, begin to feel guilt. Even their leader had felt like that once upon a time, save for her life was no freaking fairy tale. At some points, his eagerness to kill made her wonder of his loyalty. It was relatively really simple to imagine him on any side just as long as he could kill. Would he be a serial killer if he were a human? In all truthfulness, there were points in time where she almost feared him. What would he do to her if she ever did something truly out rage him? Would he hang her up by her feet and beat her with a crowbar that had been heated by fire? Would he keep her in a vat of acid only to throw rocks at her later? Torture. Never would she make it through, or so she thought. As much as talked about power and strength of mind and body, there hadn’t been anything that would prepare her for that. On the other hand, she could deal out torture, or at least give the go for it.
The fact that he drank honorably from vampires and werewolves a like scare some, but not her, not with this detail. With him doing this, it was one less prick of a wolf or bat to be dealt with and less spoiled blood in the world. For this act, she was grateful. It proved that there were indeed strong people out there. He would be a prime candidate for her position, but she wasn’t certain how John felt or could handle the politics of it all. Hell, she could barely handle the politics as well, along with the bitching and moaning of some of her people who were only out to make her life harder. They didn’t want her to make it. Miss Diesel could of sent John after the bastards, but keeping them around kept her in check about proving them wrong, proving she could do it. There were better things to do then that, but the satisfaction was just so pleasing. Naturally it could only get her so far on the feeling alone.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was looking up into the evening sky. Those ember flames shot up as well. There had always been something so infinite in feeling when looking up. She had been quite an astronomy buff when the Burlesque hall closed up at a whole 3 AM. When the nights had proved to be riddle with energy or she was starting to feel ashamed of herself, the stars would put her back on track. She could always spot Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Draco, Taurus, Sagittarius, Hydra, Cancer, Delphinus, and Corvus, at least when they were in the sky evidently. She had even had dreams of owning a telescope, excluding that she had never gotten that far and probably never would. Kella really needed a hobby. Astronomy would’ve been just the thing that would keep her sane. She’d never get around to buying one and nobody would ever get her one since nobody would know about this passion. Besides, she’d never really have time – so much to do, so little time. ”Nothing to bother you with, John,” his companion responded to him without looking at him. The tone that had been used was almost stern, warning him not to continue on. Still, part of it was said pleadingly. She wouldn’t bare her problems to him or anybody really. Business had taken a toll on her, other than it was she who had chosen the path and it was she who would take its path until the end.
No offense to her spy, but he wasn’t really a person who mingled with people very well. It was almost a description of the leader, except she had to have some people skills to lead. It was a kind offer from him into which he could only listen. Telling him wasn’t going to happen. They were much in the same boat that she didn’t want to rock to tip it over. Kella held her breath, not that she really needed it, and exhaled. What the girl really needed was to scream or cry or mull or something or just…anything. Where was her substitute leader so she could take a ‘sick’ day? Sure, she could assign somebody, but she’d probably come back overran. Was there anything he could do? The question almost made her laugh out loud. Nobody asked her that. With a barely visible smirk on her lips, she shook her head. ”No, but thank you for the offer.” Now with her hands on her lap, the black nail polish freshly applied looking somewhat regal on her fingers, she re-crossed her legs. Taking eyes off the sky, Kella turned to look at John. ”You wanted to talk about lycans, so shoo. What do you want to know?” There were times of speaking of werewolves that made her feel repulsed, but other times not so much. Tonight, not so much, she just wanted to help him out.
John Daniel Torrance - July 26, 2007 12:10 AM (GMT)
Fascinated by the night sky, John continued to gaze up at it, looking at nothing in particular but just the sky as a whole. Looking up at the nearly full moon, John remembered all the human sayings about the moon and how it changed some people into wolves...Even when he had been human, John had never believed in superstitions, but when john had been human, he really had no need to think. Everyday had been the same day for him back then. The same routine of leaving the house for work, and coming back to eat and sleep. Then thinking about it more, John realized that if he had never been blooded, if he had never met his wife, he would have led a pretty normal life and would have already been dead by now. However, unlike other vampires, John loved that fact that he was near immortal, he loved the power, and he loved killing. As a human, John would have been the typical skinner, who lived a simple life with a wife and two kids. He would have never known the joy of murder.
"Yes, I wanted to ask you about Lycans. Just how friendly are with them miss Diesel? Or is it that our covens are completely cut off with their packs?" John asked curiously. Truthfully, John had only been interested in the packs so that he knew which ones he would be able to kill. Once again with the killing. John wondered if one day, he would just stop all the killing, all the violence and be a good little vampire, who dresses goth and lives in a victorian styled house, somewhere out in America. But deep down inside, John knew that the only way it would stop, is if was dead. He had been like all the other psychos, like everyone else with a strange fetish, or a mental disease, and John knew it. "...Also, has there ever been a case where a female Lycan has given birth to a vampire's child? If so, did any of the children survive?"
The second question had been quite random, but still very interesting. John did not have a vast knowledge over the Lycan and Vampire histories, but he knew that there must have been some sort of Romero and Juliet styled story between the two races. Although the two races absolutely hated each other, there must have been some people who didn't feel this way about each other. People like John, people who just don't care. If there had never been such a case however, John would not have been surprised. Even if it did happen, the two races would have never let it go into their history books.
Kella Credence Diesel - July 26, 2007 05:19 PM (GMT)
There were always those ‘what if’ questions in life. What if I hadn’t slept with that person? What if she hadn’t gotten pregnant? What if I hadn’t smoked all that dope during high school and actually did my work to graduate? But the biggest ‘what if’ came from a vampire. What if I wasn’t immortal? So many would be dead now while so many would never live. If they weren’t immortal chances were they’d all go to college (some anyway), be working a nine to five job, and maybe even have some little rugrats running around. Lives would be way different. Odds were that if she hadn’t become a vampire, she wouldn’t have worked so long with her flawless, non-aging body. But if her father hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have done anything for money to help her mother and brother. Yet again – if. Her mother. Her brother, Michaelis. Kella hadn’t thought about them in a while and she felt…was this sadness? If she wasn’t immortal, she’d never have met all the people she did or be the leader of a coven. Another if. Few people realized how much life could change with one moment, one change in time. The thought of a different life almost terrified her. Being a whole altered person? There wasn’t much point in worrying about it thought since she couldn’t do a thing about it.
Leave it to John to ask one of the most difficult questions at one of the most stressful times in her life. It was a good question, one that had moved in and out of her mind. If she formed with the Sanguinaires, they’d take down the wolves, and only have to worry about their fellow species, but if they were to form with the wolves by themselves, unless they only formed with one pack. It was complex trying to iron out the pros, cons, and the politics of it all. Who could help them, but then be able to be taken down. If they formed with their vampire enemies, there was no way to tell if the lycans would form back together as well. No matter which way Kella looked, it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps[s it’d just be easier to not fight, stay four separate groups, and just kill when provoked or encountered. If ever a time to run away, now would be it, but she could never bring herself to do it. She’d never abandoned her mom or brother, her family, and that coven was her family. Finally releasing a sigh, her hands moving fidgety, she went, ”John, I honestly don’t know. I just…don’t. I’m sorry. The plans are still in construction.” She couldn’t know everything or be strong all the time. Leaders had flaws and points of weakness too.
The answer didn’t help, but she didn’t give a fuck about being brave or strong. All she wanted to be right then was a woman. It felt that so many forgot that that was what she was. Besides the hot body, she really was more like a male, but she didn’t she was like that all the time. The next question was less shocking since John hadn’t been the first to bring up this inquiry. The answer was almost fluent on her tongue. ”No. No hybrids. We’re sterile. Even if we mated a hundred times a day with our own kind, we still couldn’t conceive.” This was what she was going to stick with. Then again, there could’ve been possible ways that didn’t include pregnancy. Nobody had transfused a vampire’s blood into a lycan or vice versa. There was also the possibility of invetro. Lycans had viable, alive reproductive systems, but there was still a chance of finding a reliable egg or sperm to combine them to put it into a host lycan or maybe even a human. What would happen if blood from a lycan and blood from a vampire were put into a human? Maybe if they both bit and a human at the same time, but there were too many possibilities to be certain. Besides both shied away from the new breeds because it was considered tainting the purity of the species. Plus, who knew how truly strong and unruly they’d be. One hybrid might be able to take them all down.
With another breath in, she could smell so many variables of life – dirt, grass, dew, bark, dogs, people, fabric softener, metal from the vehicles, pollution, grease and salt from vendors down the way, coffee, and so much more. The smells engulfed her so much that it was nostalgic. She leaned forward in dizziness. It was an odd feeling to feel like she was going to fall down even though she was sitting. The outside of her vision became so white that her eyes clamped shut. Kella tried not to let this distress show. It seemed the stress had caught up with her. It felt as if her heart was in her throat. This always happened when things felt out of hand. This would subside, always did. As soon as their conversation deceased, Kella planned on getting a big cup of coffee, a jelly donut, and one of those giant pretzels. She hadn’t eaten real food in such a long time. Only the thought of it made her feel better. Damn she needed a vacation.
John Daniel Torrance - July 26, 2007 07:11 PM (GMT)
John listened carefully to what Kella had told him. At first, someone with his type of skill would have suspected that he was checking to see if she had been lying, or hiding something from him. But actually, John had been lost in his thoughts, her words the only thing audible as his mind tried to make out everything. Apparently, the situation had been worse than he had expected. Without some sort of connection between the races and covens, the only thing stopping an all out war was the fact that everyone cared so much about their own kind to fight. Since the beginning of it all, vampires hated lycans, and lycans hated vampires, but now, with the splitting of the packs and covens, there would have been no clear winner to another war. A slaughter it would have been, to everyone. Vampires, werewolves, and even humans; all would have been dead. But thinking carefully, john realized one factor most had not taken into consideration. Humans. Why hadn’t he, or anyone thought about it earlier? Without humans, there would be no vampires, and little to no werewolves. If a war had broken out, the ultimate winner would have been the truly independent, the homosapiens.
John of course, did not care for apocalypse, or the downfall of the humanoids, just his own skin, and the ones that he respected. Knowing his own kind, John would have much rather saved a few werewolves than help a few Meutrier or Sanguinaire. Now John knew all that he had wanted to know, and now his objective had been clear. John wanted to find a way for force evolution. He figured that there could only be two scenarios. The groups join together in friendly terms, or they all turn on each other and die. John had wanted to make himself stronger incase of both scenarios. If it happened that the group leaders did not want to fight, then John would have lost the right to kill vampires or werewolves. Soon after he had lost his right, John would have either been shot to death by humans, or be declared a rogue and be put to death. If a war broke out, then John would have surely died. He would have been sent on some insane mission, and he would not get to live to see the end of the war.
Standing up, John looked at Kella and gave a small bow. ”Thank you for answering my questions Miss diesel, and now I must be off” he said. Then turning around, John walked down the path. He had to find a way to evolve himself…How was he going to achieve such a feat? He was not a biologist, and John knew it. However, John did have a vast knowledge over human, vampire, and lycan body. He knew the bodies inside and out, due to the many autopsies he had performed for fun. Now all John needed was another vampire of lycan who would be willing to help him in this cause.
Disappearing into the woods, John walked, not towards the Meutrier Catacombs, but to his secret cave. The cave had been the place where he had stored all his information, knowledge, weaponry, and where he had tortured his victims. John had not visited this cave for a few years, but he knew that there was no other place to conduct his research…
[Exit John]