[img]http://i.imgur.com/QRij9MW.jpg[/img] [b]Vampire.[/b] The dreary streets were cold with mist that night. Moonlight shown was once so bright. Managed did it, only to barely flitter through the fog. Even those street lamps and cars that sped along the dew slicken roads, those things so much closer to home, were but dim glows in it's midst. As you walk through it, the scent of the ocean weighed heavily on one's senses - salt, slime and something else, tinged with smoke and soot. In a distance, perhaps a mere figment of imagination, you almost hear the softest of wailings coming from out there where huge, unfathomable shadows drifted back and forth. In nearby house, two men stood over a corpse. [center]-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] One of them wore a blue coat, vertically striped with white, making his already thin frame seem even skinnier than it actually was. He wore a matching fedora that kept most of his features hidden and lether gloves which wrapped around his bony hands, which now crept through the pockets of the deceased. The other man, similarly was hunched over the dead body, he had red hair and seemed the gruffer of the two. Donning dark vested suit over a white long sleeved shirt and a tie that matched his hair, sharp eyes quietly concentrating on the details before him, he had his shin to the floor but kept his hands to himself. The dead man's lips were glossed, crimson dripping from the crevices of his otherwise unmoving mouth that no longer bated breath. [b]"He was drinking blood when he died? Was he one of them?"[/b] The man in suit and red tie asked, touching the vital fluids and rubbing a small dab in between his fingers. The farmiliar rusty smell quickly struck his nose, followed by an unexplainably sweet, yet rotten accent that only came seconds later. [b]"Nah."[/b] The man in a fedora casually tilted the head, revealing two large stab wounds in the neck and several claw marks on the face. [b]"Some sickos like to ...play with their meals. Before he died, his murderer probly tempted him with being turned and let'im have a taste of their blood. Vampire blood has a very addictive taste-"[/b] It was at this point that the other man quirked his eyebrow, a little disturbed by the idea, and wiped his finger on the trousers. [b]".......-to some people."[/b] [b]"Poor sob didn't drink enough to get turned, so he died."[/b] What followed was a long, awkward moment of silence between them. [b]".......let's see what he has to say then."[/b] This time the man with the tie got the quirked eyebrows. [center]-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] [b]"Necromancy?"[/b] The question begot no reply, save maybe more tightly pursed lips. The two men stood in a circle of salt, a small pile of incense rested on the dead man's chest. [b]"Y'know how I feel about it. I hate it, you should know that!"[/b] [b]"...It's not."[/b] He half lied. [b]"What you hate is necrothurgy. This, isn't going to make corpses stand up and move ab--"[/b] Suddenly, an alarmingly loud sound cut through the conversation startling them. The two men turned and looked down in horror, the dead man's fingers clattered, twitching as they violently tapped the floor repeatedly. [i]Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap....[/i] The incessant sound continued for a few long seconds, then all went quiet. ... ... ... The red haired man took a long breath, steeling himself and very carefully placed a saucer and an lettered board under the dead man's hand. [b]"Wha-What is happening?"[/b] The one in the fedora asked hurriedly but only recieved a calm gesture to keep his voice down then a shrug from the other man. [b]"Vigil!"[/b] He demanded an aswer loudly, furious at the silence. Apparently a finger to the lips was not well understood. The red haired man shook his head slightly, he could not really tell him that he was loosing his 'touch'. No, no after he was let in on the premise that he could help with the unsolved murders. It was ...just ....hard, to think these days, of anything really, but the moment demanded that he tried nonetheless. Try as he might, He could not figure out what was wrong. But .......maybe, just maybe, the spirit needed a bit of a ...nudge. [i]Bone dust.[/i] He retrieved a sublime fine grey pwder from his briefcase. He hesitated for a moment, the voice of a wisened woman rang in his thoughts, but he compelled himself against it and sprinkled it generously onto the hand. They waited a long moment. True enough, to his relief, the limb started moving again. This time trying to slide over the letters, it needed guidance. He placed his own hand over and mimicked the ministrations of the hand, pushing it in whichever direction it tried to go. It started off slow. [b]ASITNSGDEUJ[/b] But got faster quickly. Over time, the hand did not even need his help. He wrote down each letter that it passed on his notebook, noting the pauses in between. ...But things quickly got awry when it kept repeating the same letters over and over, [b]ASITNSGDEUJASITNSGDEUJ[/b] It would not stop. [b]ASITNSGDEUJASITNSGDEUJASITNSGDEUJASITNSGDEUJ[/b] Soon, The paper began to tear from the callousness it was scraped with, the dish was cracking under an immense amount of force. Worried, Vigil immediately commanded it to halt. [b]"Stop!"[/b] But it did not heed. Instead, the flourescent lights flickered and the hand was beginning to clench up ... [b]"Sanctum!"[/b] He yelled. The incense burst into a conflagration that threatened to engulf the deceased, for a moment, a malformed shadow that should not be there was seen cowering in a corner of the room. In response it grabbed the dish and violently flung it at Vigil! He could not dodge in time but managed to move enough that it grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood, before it shattered on the curtained wall behind. Then, out of nowhere, a tremendous gust fell upon the room .......[i]and the lights were gone.[/i]