The hounds are unleashed

Today some of us got together and we started the first chapter in a Vampire the Masquerade campaign that a friend of mine had prepared over the last few weeks. For all of you who are not familiar with the game, you can find out what it is all about here and here. I decided to rewrite the events of the game into a small story and share it with you. As such a game expands over several hours, the story will probably be quite long. I'll post one part every day and hope you'll enjoy it.

Hounds of Hell

It was around midnight when the young David Hunter got out of his taxi in front of the big building situated on the Isle of Dogs. He was sent there by his sire and was supposed to partake in a bloodhunt, a concept he was not at all familiar with. He only knew that his sire Dr. Carl deGras had chosen him to represent the Malkavian clan and that Prince Volus, a high-ranking member of the Gangrel, had requested his help.

Ever since he had found him in St.John’s Asylum all those years ago, the doctor had been good to him. David never really understood why his grandmother had put him there in the first place; maybe she was just overburdened after the death of his grandfather. Death had always been a big part of David’s life, ever since his parents had perished in a car accident after a frontal collision with a drunk driver. As if by a miracle David had survived the accident but he had been stuck in the car for several hours before he was finally rescued. The memory of his mother’s dead body hanging over him, dripping blood all over him, still haunted him to this day. When his grandparents adopted him, the boy had not spoken in days. At first it had seemed as if they could provide a secure and loving haven for him. After a while however David had realized that his grandfather talked an awful lot about the First World War. Apparently he had served in the war when he was only a teenager and kept recounting all the horrible tales of the things that had happened to him in the time he had spent in the trenches in Ypres. When he was not spinning tales from the war he schooled David in the importance of faith. By the time he was fourteen, the boy could reproduce every last bit of scripture, as his grandfather had made him learn the bible by heart. The pressure put on the youngster by the old man grew from year to year until the grandfather died in a mysterious accident at home. One morning his wife found him at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck. When she tried to tell David what had happened she found him standing at his window, preaching the Book of Revelation to the outside world. She tried to snap him out of his religious trance but when she touched his left shoulder he turned around and bellowed military commands at her. At a loss, the old woman turned to St.John’s Asylum to seek help for David. It was the last he had ever heard of her.

There he was now, standing outside the impressive building, not knowing what to do next. He threw a quick glance at the entrance where two guards were stationed, but he could not muster up the courage to walk over to them. Instead he put on his headphones and was listening to “the Cure” when suddenly another taxi arrived at the curb. A man, who could only be described as a giant, stepped out of the backseat, and walked over to him. The guy was wearing a black leather jacket and was all muscles. David gave him a quick glance, saw that he was mouthing something in his direction, which he couldn’t understand due to the music still blasting at full throttle, and he quickly shifted his gaze back at the floor. As the colossus didn’t move, the boy decided it might be better to put away his Ipod and as he did this, yet another car arrived around the corner. This time it was a black stretch-limousine, the kind that David had only seen on TV until this point. A middle-aged yet very handsome gentleman, wearing an expensive suit, stepped out of the car and walked straight up the stairs towards the two guards. After a few words with a raised voice, he was let in. Before any of the two vampires still standing at the bottom of the stairs could say anything, yet another taxi drove up the curb to reveal a man in his mid-thirties emerging gracefully from the backseat. He was dressed in a way that seemed appropriate for a man of wealth and David thought he knew the man with the striking scar on the right cheek from somewhere. He too went straight up the stairs and vanished inside the enormous front door after a few words with the guards. As the door closed, one of the two guards came over to the boy and the giant with the deep voice and asked if he could help them. The big guy identified himself as Ian Brunswick and added that he was probably expected. The guard checked his list looked at the boy and said, “So then you must be David Hunter, am I right?” The boy just nodded and both of them were granted permission to enter the building.