How many years had passed, since that terrible night occured? It felt like a century, when the actuality of it was it had only been half a decade. The memory of the night still haunted him, like a fly that would just not get out of your face.
He remembered attending that meeting... the sabbat and the city's loyal and strong. He remembered initiating the fight that took place, because he had nothign left to lose. With the loss of his chosen mate, nothing mattered anymore, back then. He was sick of the city... sick of the people... sick of the society that kindred participated in and he was expected to be apart of as well. He remembered how much he hated it all, and wished to be done with it... so he attacked first.
A blinding swipe of claws.... one down. The feeling was more than satisfactory. It was his calling. A war machine, through and through... nearly nothing of mortality left in him, in those nights. Not much as changed, really.
He remembered turning his head, and seeing the rest of that god damned Sabbat pack cowering in the distance. He moved to them, eager to get this all over and down with, one way or another. HIs supernatural speed had kicked in, and he blazed off towards thier direction... he was upon them, before they could even realize what was going on... or so he thought.
He remembered... the feeling of talons pulling through evil kindred flesh, with great ease. One of the 2 visible was down, this was easier than he though. But in the moment between swings, he came upon a great truth.. that there was more there, than just the two. In this great realization, he was doomed. As he brought claws down upon the second target, who seemed to survive the hit... he was struck from behind by claws, himself. The owner of them was never seen, as the moment he was struck.. it was as if his very soul gave up and refused to continue on.
One strike hit him, but was enough to send him spiraling downwards to the ground in a heap... on the verge of destruction.
In the speed of things, this fellow companions in the far distance made out what was the destruction of him... but due to the combat they found themselves within, they didnt notice that a moment after he fell... he was gone. The piles of ash left at the scene, would make anyone who was there come to the reasonable conclusion that he had expired.
But it was not so. The moment he was struck, and fell... this beast kicked into overdrive. Instinct became his driving force, and at that moment.. it was flight, not fight. The Beast empowered his essence, and took control... boosting his speeds to levels he never knew were possible... taking him far far far away from all the madness. Once he was done riding that turbulant wave, he ended up collapsing in an abandoned warehouse basement... somewhere in Bellevue.
When he woke, it was the next evening. His wounds were great... but his shame was even greater. He considred himself, and made others believe that he was the Domain's greatest danger to it's enemies. He spent years, demonstrating power and ability... instilling fear through force.
All that effort, came crumbling down in an instant. He knew it was time to move on... and that evening, he began to make his way southeast.... as far as he could get. Maybe with enough space, he could be forgotten about and start anew. Fuck you, Seattle. Hello Florida.
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Subject: The return of the monster. - Rolf Sechs 
Fri Dec 09, 2011 8:44 pm
