[center][img] https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/f7a29184-7692-4838-b24c-41a4bea6d498/d29k3lb-fe8b4076-778c-423e-b6b8-69ee7310e86f.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_683,q_75,strp/light_at_the_end_of_the_tunnel_by_hepsankeikka_d29k3lb-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD02ODMiLCJwYXRoIjoiXC9mXC9mN2EyOTE4NC03NjkyLTQ4MzgtYjI0Yy00MWE0YmVhNmQ0OThcL2QyOWszbGItZmU4YjQwNzYtNzc4Yy00MjNlLWI2YjgtNjllZTczMTBlODZmLmpwZyIsIndpZHRoIjoiPD0xMDI0In1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.yfREYC1ijjbnRwD07Ko52tG63dVgAl2fRSFPN2fIqn0 [/img][/center] [i]“This one likes to scream!”” “Give her something to scream about, then!” “Feed them to the flames.” “Feed them to the flames.” [/i] [i]“Feed them to[/i] what do I owe the pleasure, my friends?” Morgan kicked herself internally, letting out a silent groan. She had been wandering again. [i]Where am I..?[/i] “Thank you for meeting with us at such short notice, Abbie,” Rafael was saying, to a woman with soft, almond-coloured skin, “we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” “Of course, of course,” Abbigale Jadeja gave the pair a slight, almost imperceptible nod, “the unbound never visit me, if it isn’t terribly important.” Morgan found herself sitting in what seemed to be a dimly-lit warehouse. Flickering orange lights hung from the ceiling, and rows upon rows of plain crates were stacked up against the walls. Morgan and Rafael were facing the shapley figure of Abbigale Jadeja, who wore a sleek leather jacket over a flowing, ruffled top, and had her dark hair bound into a sleek beehive. Suddenly, Morgan remembered why they were there. “I’m looking for my old mate,” she spoke up, “well...I don’t suppose she's much of a mate, any more.” “The dead can seldom afford to have friends.” Jadeja replied, keeping her voice neutral. Out of nowhere, Morgan heard shrill, callow voices swelling in her ears, overwhelming her senses, and shrieking through every fibre of her being. [i]“Three blind mice! Three blind mice! See how they run! See how they run!”[/i] She could hear laughing...no, [i]screaming[/i]? She could smell burning. [i]“They all ran after the farmer’s wife! Who cut off their tails with a carving knife!”[/i] An enormous crow, with fiery red feathers, which hissed and crackled, like strands of fire, slipped out of nothingness, and perched on Jadeja’s head. The bird’s pointy head twitched and jerked, pecking away at the woman’s forehead. Abigail's lack of reaction to having her skin nibbled on made Morgan think that the bird probably wasn’t real. The Malkavian gritted her teeth, and desperately forced herself back into reality. Flames were snarling and spitting, but she pushed through. “She's been getting into trouble,” Morgan explained, fighting to keep her mind on track, “and she's been...hurting people. I think you can help.” [i]“Terrible Calantha Teohari,”[/i] the crow cackled, in a hoarse, scratchy voice,[i] “with an icy black heart, and eyes so sparkly.”[/i] “What makes you think I can help, little seer?” Jadeja asked, her tone masking a derisive sneer. “You have eyes and ears where the [i]rat-eaters[/i] don’t,” Morgan said, addressing something Jadeja was obviously very much aware of, but deliberately deciding to be coy about, “if the Hidden Ones have any idea where Calantha is, they aren’t talking. We were hoping that you and your family might be able to offer us a hand, crimson crow.” [i]“Crimson crow!”[/i] The bird squawked, [i]“Crimson crow!”[/i] A roguish grin spread across Abbigale Jadeja’s sly face. “I am open to discussing business,” she told the pair, “but first, will you join me in a little indulgence?” Jadeja sharply clapped her hands together. Two figures emerged from the shadows. One was a strongly-built young man, with his hands bound behind his back, and a gag wrapped around his mouth. There was a look of abject terror plastered across his dismayed features. He was being prodded along by a shorter, dark-skinned figure, wearing a red silk scarf, and tinted sunglasses. “I don’t like to talk trade on an empty stomach,” Jadeja cooed, “you understand, yes?” The scarf-wearing man gave his captive a sharp kick, forcing him down onto the cold stone ground, and presenting him before the trio. “Thank you, Sai.” Abbigale said. As wordlessly as he had appeared, the man in the dark glasses retreated back into the darkness. Jadeja clasped her victim by the throat, digging her long nails into his flesh. Thread-like trails of dark blood leaked out of fresh gashes in his skin, whilst the man let out a muffled yelp. The crimson crow fizzled out into nothingness, fading with one final squawk. “Drinking cold blood from a cup isn’t the same,” the Ravnos explained to her visitors, “we are hunters. We don’t just feed on blood, we feed on [i]life[/i].” Rafael flinched, uncomfortably. “Your snack doesn’t look very happy,” he murmured, “I think he’ll have quite a bit to say about this.” “Not for much longer.” Jadeja replied. The captive wailed in fear, his voice muted by the gag. “This isn’t necessary,” Morgan growled, “you don’t need to do this to feed.” “I know,” Jadeja chuckled, “it's much more fun this way, though.” Morgan rose to her feet, her hands balling into fists. “[i]Don’t[/i].” She snapped. “This is my elysium, little lunatic,” Jadeja tutted, “watch where you tread.” “Come on now, Morgan,” Rafael stood up, placing one hand on Morgan’s wrist, “we’re guests here.” “This isn’t what we stand for,” Morgan declared, “this is the kind of shit the Camarilla and the Sabbat pull. We’re supposed to be kinder than them, Rafael. We’re meant to be better.” Jadeja forced the captive man’s head down, resting it on her knee. “Even the most sane minds shatter after a few hours in my nasty little realm of dread and woe,” she said, “I wonder what would happen to your brain, psycho?” “Hold on now!” Rafael called out, “this isn’t what we came here to do!” “It seems the night had other plans.” Jadeja said, releasing her hold on the captive, and slowly rising to her feet. Three predators stood opposite each other. The warehouse fell silent. Tension crackled in the air, like the raging boom of lightning. Jadeja flexed one hand, her fingernails unsheathing, like the claws of a cat. “You’ve spat on my hospitality, Anarchs,” she sneered, and now you-” A ghastly roar shook Los Angeles. The air itself seemed to shudder and tremble. Morgan felt as though someone were rattling her skull. “[b]FUCK[/b]!” Jadeja cried out, keeling over in pain. She fell to the ground, landing in a heap on the floor, next to her captured prey. “What the hell was that..?” Rafael wondered aloud. “Nothing good…” Morgan murmured. Her body was quaking and trembling. Burning unease fizzled through her bones, seething and sputtering. “[i]Fuck…[/i]” Jadeja wheezed again, grasping weakley at thin air. “Looks like she got hit worse than we did.” Rafael observed. Jadeja was sprawled out on the ground, convulsing in agony. Her form twisted and twitched with pain. “We’ll help you,” Morgan said, uneasily, “but you let the kine go.”