Nightfall: Chapter 1

I was bored. We'd actually captured a Nightbane soldier and the bastard wasn't talking, even with all the interrogation.

"Hey, wakey, wakey." I gently tapped his cheek to get his attention with mock-care. "Where's your camp?"

He spat in my face.

"There wasn't any need for that." I punched him, knocking a tooth to the ground along with a large amount of blood."

"ETHAN!" I stopped.

"Yes, brother?"

"The man needs his teeth to speak. Let me try to convince him."

I sighed and walked out of the room into the security room, observing the cameras.

=The old man had been walking for many months now, across the county. Recently, he had ended up in New York City, a place where there were so many people he would probably never be noticed, but more than enough people that he should still watch his back. Though, in his age and experience, he could probably fend off at least a few attackers, depending on who they were. He continued walking down the street, not looking for anything in particular=

He wasn't talking, and there was a lot of blood on the ground.

"We need to end this, soon. I'd rather get back home without the authorities after us."

"You're right. Kill him."

"Finally."

I walked into the blood splattered room with my pistol drawn.

"What now dog? Come to end it? Do it. I don't fear dying.

I admired Nightbane commanders. They were brave men. But, he needed to die.
I aim the pistol at his head, before placing a single round in his forehead.

=i was walking around the streets of New York. I had two butterfly knives in my pockets, with one of my standard knives in a holster on my leg under my loos jeans. I was wearing a dark grey jacket, with the hood pulled up around my neck like a makeshift scarf. I was headed to a deal, which was why I was so well armed. I was a messenger, any package or letter I would deliver. I was nicknamed the Blood, since I always was paid in blood packs, or coolers, or whatever. No one questioned it, but on the odd chance I had a new customer, I would always say I have someone in the hospital who needs blood transfusions and leave it at that. My face paint was on, the silver lines glinting in the sunlight. I made sure to keep my stance and walk speed normal. Living a few hundred years among humans made me know how to blend in=

I place my weapon back in its' hiding spot.

The two other Werewolves follow me out of the safehouse.
I turn to our current pack leader.

"Where are we going to next?"

There's a rumour of a Vamp in Manhattan, we need to deal with it. We're getting a plane over in a few hours, once we're there, we split up and hunt it alone.

I nod, getting into the car we had arrived in.

=After a while of walking, he spotted something a little... off. A man walking down the street with silver facial paint. He closed his eyes for a moment, and 'looked' around. He saw it, clear as day. This one was a vampire. Most interesting, considering the location and the time. In the modern age it didn't seem so common to come across fellow enemies of the Nightbane. He approached, but stayed a little ways back. He knew that if he looked, the vampire would see him. He may have blended in at a glance, but upon closer inspection there was definitely something more old-fashioned about him than most...=

I hated flying.

I sat fidgeting all the way to New York City. Fortunately, we weren't far away. But I didn't pay attention to names.

As we entered the airport, I looked around at the place. It was dreary compared to home. The pack leader looked at me.

"You're one of our best trackers. Find the blood sucker."

I nodded and turned away, exiting the building and hailing a cab.

=i turned a corner, and started heading towards the warehouses. I always met there. It was a few miles from my drop house, where I kept my blood bags in freezers, which in turn was also a few miles away from my real house where I slept and entertained friends. The warehouses were perfect due to their tight, enclosed locations. Also, any package that wasn't ready yet could simply be hidden among all the items already in storage. I was quite a ways away from them, but I could see them easily=

=He continues following the vampire without making any suspicious moves. He simply followed and observed. He looked almost 1/25 his age, and that might play in his advantage if the vampire became aware of him. He didn't look very threatening at all. At least, not now=

I hated New York as well as flying. The smells were overwhelming. I could smell Vamps everywhere. There was obviously more than one. Or one that had been here for a long time. Still, it was loud, smelly and I was starting to get pissed off at my cab driver.

"Stop! I'm walking!"

I paid my fare and climbed out, walking down the pavement. The vamp smell was stronger. I was getting closer to him, I could feel it in my gut.

Time to die blood suckers.

=i felt like I was being followed. Just a prickling on the back of my neck. I made sure my hands were in my pockets, around my knives. I didn't want to be ambushed. I could probably handle whatever came my way, but that didn't mean I wanted to have to act. I just wanted to deliver this package and be on my way=

=He felt another presence approaching... Quickly, too. He couldn't quite determine what he was sensing, but one thing was clear: There was malice in it's heart. He sniffed the air a bit, and picked something up. Gunpowder. He could only guess that it was the approaching- Lycanthrope. That's what it was. He could feel it now, as it got closer. It was another lycanthrope. He bit his tongue, hard. Just to cause enough pain to activate his magic. He heated up his ring, the metal in his wristbands, and his necklace and belt. As the burning set in, he began to feel the power. He spoke very quietly under his breath=

I could taste something. It was an odd taste, metallic, tangy. I didn't recognise it. But I could smell something too. A Werewolf, but not of my pack.

A rogue? This day gets better and better/

I sniffed the air again and located the other Werewolf. It was close. I adopted a hunting tactic, staying near humans to hide myself from its nose.

=i'm at the warehouses now. I open the door and close it behind me. My contact was here. The lights were more like spot lights, illuminating one area below them rather than a large area. I pulled my hood up over my head to block the light, just in case he was a snitch, a cop, or anyone else similar to that. I could hear his heartbeat. He was calm, if slightly agitated. I was on time, so I'm guess he had trouble getting here. I walked over, picking my way through all the crates. I could also hear another heartbeat, faster, more nervous. I hoped it was his backup, rather than the package. I didn't do live deliveries=

=He felt a shift of direction, as well as another presence. The first one had altered it's course. He couldn't tell quite where it was heading, but it had slowed. A hunting technique, it seemed. He closed his eyes, and looked around again. One may be able to hide from a lycan's nose, but none from a Wizard's eyes... He opened his eyes again and kept walking, wary of the other lycanthrope...=

=i walked up to him. He had a brown t-shirt on, with semi-tight jeans. He has sunglasses on, meaning he's like me, cautious. I stop a distance away=
I don't do live deliveries.

"What?"

=he wasn't expecting that statement=
There is a second person here. If they are the package, then you need to find someone else.

"....It's not a live delivery."

Then who is the second person.

"My backup. I have heard of you, Blood. I know sometimes people end up dead with no blood left in their body."

=he was referencing whenever someone tried to screw me over on a payment=
As long as you don't try to screw me over, that won't happen. Where's the package and where is it going?

"It's a small package, can easily fit in your pocket. I need it delivered to the address printed on it."

=he grabs a small box, about the size of a knife-box and hands it out to me. I grab it and look it over. The address is across the town=
Why not just use postal?

"Postal has a habit of...losing my packages to this address."

Dangerous?

"Yes."

Fragile?

"No."

How quickly?

"As soon as possible, but anytime within in this week."

Six packs. Three now, three after.

"Done. Do I hand them to you or...?"

I have a place. Give me your arm.

=he stuck his arm out and I grabbed a nearby pen from a clipboard. I wrote on his arm the address of my drop house before stepping back and putting the package in my jacket pocket=
I'll meet you here after the drop.

"How will I know when you are done?"

When I show up. Noon on the day it's done. I'll be here.

=i nodded to him=
Good day.

=i turned and walked away, going out the door, back out onto the streets=

=He felt one of the presences leave, the more distant of the two. This was good. It would mean he'd be able to focus solely on the Lycanthrope. He waited to see what he would do while moving around in the crowd, mainly making an almost pace-like pattern=

I sit down on my couch in my house. A rather large T.v. sat in front of me on a wooden table.
The table is kinda worn but I was never the 'modern' type. I'm an... oldie I guess you could say.
Which is strange, because I live in New York City, one of the most modern cities there is.
I don't know why I moved here from my old home. It wasn't too hard though, actually. It was rather easy.

I only have a bed, dresser, some clothes, a couch and a Tv with a stand. Easily fitting in this big house.
Well, big house to me. It's actually a 'apartment' or something like that. Something small on other standards.
It doesn't have a cellar though, something I had back in my old house. Which reminds me.
How will I manage to keep the beast inside during incidents? There isn't anywhere to hide.
What a careless move on my part. Oh hey... pun.

=i walked through the crowds, moving with the streams to head towards my drop house. I kept my packaging items there, as well as my pending notices and meets. There was absolutely nothing there that connected to my real home, save for a single picture of someone I once knew=

A Werewolf fight in the streets of New York was not going to go down well with any of the Priests, many of whom wished Werewolves to become public knowledge, at least around Nightfall. But I had an oath to follow.

The scent of the other Werewolf was strong now, possibly in sight. I had to watch for the slightest give aways that Werewolves express. More aggressive body language, looking bigger than most others... It was these traits that let skilled Nightbane find us, but they also kept other wolves thinking twice about attacking. As a hunter, I had none of the need to fear others. I'd been trained for this

=i walked through the busy streets, occasionally pushing aside someone who had stopped in my way or was busy doing something else. I did it gently, so as not to disturb them. I just wanted to be on my way and get to my drop house to await my payment. I kept moving, trying to fight back the urge to speed up and run=