[center][h1]Chapter I: The Flop[/h1][/center][hr]
Las Vegas. Thirty or so years ago, the Strip was born, and with its existence, life had come to this mere whistle-stop town. The next twenty years were its heyday-- a veritable oasis where stars like the legendary Frank Sinatra or the illustrious Elvis Presley made their appearances. The rise of this city was meteoric, and it was almost as if there was no end to its splendor.

But now, in the seventies, the business was starting to dry up. Glamour had faded from this place. No longer was Las Vegathe place to be; where you would go once you were at the top of your career. Now, Vegas was where you ended up when you were at your lowest. Whether you're a washed-up has-been, or a desperate gambler seeking to stake their fortune on one last roll of the dice... This place had welcomed any and all, regardless of its reputation.

It would seem that the forces of darkness were counted among that number.

Arriving from different points of the world, you all find yourselves in a small convoy of vehicles, moving at high speed towards your destinations. The Las Vegas Police Department let you through the checkpoint, and into the outer perimeter. You had met in your respective departments, at airports, or perhaps simply on the road-- and whether you've just landed at the McCarran Airport hours ago, or if you've been driving across the blistering dunes and deserts for days... you hear it before you see it. 

Gunfire, screams, and otherworldly screeches. The scene is... desperate.

"Hold this position! Reinforcements are here!" The captain shouts.

There were men dressed in black tactical gear, armed with military hardware. They seemed to be manning a checkpoint, complete with sandbags, spotlights, and barbed wire. The asphalt was stained with blood and bodies-- both human and animal. Each man was unloading mag after mag into their targets, and they wouldn't last much longer. There was a single exception: [url=https://i.imgur.com/vLif1q0.png]a Vatican Executor[/url], who was clearly putting in overtime to suppress as many enemies as he could.

[color=#239C89]"It took you all long enough."[/color] Father Alistair comments matter-of-factly, his voice ringing out clearly even through the cacophony of battle. [color=#239C89]"Drive them back!"[/color]

But they were not the focus of your gazes. No-- beyond them were your true targets. Marching down main street was a procession of vampires of varying power. Behind them were several swarms of rats and bats, nibbling at the defenders and otherwise being a nuisance. At the front was a large pack of ghouls, who were currently engaged in combat with this military. The Executor was engaged in combat with a pair of vampires who seemed to bear a striking resemblance to one another.

The supposed leader of the vampire procession seems to lick her ruby-red lips. She was beautiful, even among her kind, and she seems to regard you all with a curious gaze.

[color=orange]"Ah... more prey. Lambs to the slaughter, it would seem."[/color] She chuckles. [color=orange]"Kill them all! Anyone that brings me back a head will earn their ascension!"[/color]

The creatures of the night roar, and soon, battle is joined.