[DFM]

I stumble out of the warehouse, barely holding the newspaper wrappings under my arm. It's like I'm walking through a tar pit. Every step I take seems harder than the last and it isn't long before all I can manage is slow shamble.



The slash across my front is almost completely gone, but it still hurts. Everything hurts. It's like there's acid coursing through my veins. I've gotta eat. Gotta drink, gotta feed, whatever they like to call it.



My apartment. There's a bag of it in my apartment. If I can make it that far. I don't even know if I'm moving anymore. I feel empty inside, like the acid's eaten everything away and it's spreading further and further out.



Come on, you can make it. Not much further.



The stairs feel like mount everest. I drop the sword and the purse halfway up because I just can't carry them anymore. They clatter and thump behind me until I pull myself to the top of the stairs and practically fall through my door.



The microwave. Should still be in the microwave. I'm going to die.



I grab the bag from the microwave and fall against the sink. Cold, but it doesn't matter. I need it.

I bite into the bag and in an instant the sludge floods the emptiness, turning my insides into a giant pool of ice. It feels so horrible it almost hurts, but at least this time I'm ready for it. I clutch the counter top, laminate cracking under my grip. I hold the bag with my mouth until it's shriveled and dry. I keep sucking on the empty plastic for a few more minutes before dropping it into the sink.



I stagger a few steps backwards until I'm upright, trying to gauge if I'm alright or not. I feel cold. Kind of dead. I guess that's probably normal. I take a depressing glance around my little shit hole before heading out and down the stairs to pick up my purse and cleverly concealed deadly weapon.



It hadn't come out of the wrapping, thankfully. I shoulder the purse and tuck the newspaper sword under my shoulder before I head back out. Knox'll want to know what happened, then he should be able to take me to Tung. At the very least, Therese'll probably be back, so she can call of the feud when I give her the amulet. When I leave the alley that borders the apartments, I notice something flashing in the distance, near the Gallery Noir.





Looks like Jeanette found those street thugs after all.



I decide to talk to the officer while looking like an escaped violent lunatic because I'm stupid.



"Crime scene. Gonna... have to ask you to step back, please."

"Alright, sure. What happened?"

"Ah, some lunatics broke into the gallery and slashed up the paintings. Hmm..." He looks me over. "You ah, mind telling me where you were betwee-"

I cut him off.

"If it was tonight, I've been at the Asyl-"

He returns the favor.

"Oh. One of those types. Alright, move along."



I leave the scene and head back to the club as quickly as I can. I've got to start remembering that I basically look like suspect number one for any charge of anything. I badly need to get a new dress. Something that isn't a bunch of blood stained tatters of light cloth that barely keep me from being nude. Or better yet, something a little more durable than a dress. I'd wear jeans and a denim jacket for god's sake. I'd even wear one with a hood.

Also some god damn shoes would help me not look like a mental patient.



Push open the double doors and head to the bar to tell Knox the good news. He's waiting for me, unlike a certain Queen of Santa Monica I could name.



"Hey, girl! You ah... you do that... thing yet?"

"Yeah, he's dead. Er. He's deader than he was when I met him, I'll say that for sure. He was working as an advanced reconnaissance unit, scouting Santa Monica for a military invasion, probably from ying-yang vampires like him. So, you know, I'd tell Tung about that if he doesn't already know."

"Oh no way! Oh man, yeah I'll be sure to tell him. Thank you, too! Oh man, that thing was hounding me, like, every night." He looks away, sounds almost apologetic. "Look, I still haven't heard anything from him yet, sorry. I'll still let him know, but... for now, I don't really have any way to repay you."

I groan as I leave for the elevator.

"It's alright, Knox. Don't worry about it."

Hopefully he gets the subtext that he should worry about it.



I hope Therese is back, I really think it's about time this whole show got rolling. I can't even remember why I needed to see Tung in the first place. Let's see... LaCroix... Mercurio... Astrolite... Oh yeah.



I need to get into a Sabbat warehouse. I wonder if I could just blow up Foxy Boxes instead. Most Vampires have got to be from like the fourteen hundreds, they probably don't even know what a warehouse is.



Goddamn jerks, all of them.

Therese doesn't wait until I'm in the room before she's on top of me.



"You!"

"I-"

"Shut up! Where have you been?"

"I was at the hotel getting your-"

"Where is it?"

I take the locket out of my purse and hand it to her, almost in shock. She snatches it from my hand and looks at it for a few moments before her expression softens from "Fire" to "Ice".



"Oh! Excellent! Please, forgive my rashness, I was merely playing the odds."

"...I don't understand."

"Tung's been abusing his... agents and hitting me on every front. He's killed my personal assistant, ruined my charity auction and disrupted my blood supply for days, maybe weeks. With Tung out in force and everything coming down around my ears, I'd assumed he'd managed to compromise you as well, one way or another." Her expression shifts slightly. "He or Jeanette, that is."

I shake my head like I'm trying to throw something off.

"No! I'm not... I mean, I'd never... I'm not even... and with Jeanette of all..."

"Relax, I'm not accusing you of... consorting with her. You've acted decently and rationally up till now, I've little reason to believe you'd be the type to... fall under her influence."

Therese paces towards the massive, ghoulish painting hanging in front of her bed. She stares up at it, hands folded behind her back, seemingly lost in thought.

"You've fulfilled your end of the deal, so I will call off the feud. The problem, of course, is that calling a truce immediately after Tung's escalation would be taken as a sing of surrender or at the very least, weakness."

I walk towards her, incredulous.

"What are you saying?"



"I am saying that to be able to call off the feud, Tung's power in this city needs to be crippled."

"You want me to fight a war for you?"

"No. Tung's only real power over my organization comes from one person."

I follow her gaze towards the girl on the right.

"Jeannette."

"Jeannette. I thought that if I kept Tung in hiding, I'd be able to control her, but nothing's changed. If Santa Monica is going to be mine, she needs to be brought under heel. Without her as an inside agent, my resources are more than enough to crush Tung like the sewer rat he is."

"And Jeannette... won't sabotage your plans without Tung?"

"I can control Jeannette when she's alone, but once she's found a partner in crime she turns into a bloody nuisance."

I look at Therese for a moment before turning back to the painting. I don't know if she realizes how much of Jeanette's personality is an act.

"...are you sure you're not underestimating her?"

She glares at me, like she can't believe what I just asked.

"Underestimating her? She's a clown. A painted, perverted joker on Tung's strings. Jeannette does things for a lark, on a whim. For amusement. Underestimate her? Don't insult me."

I glance away, eying one of the massive black statues Therese keeps in her room.

"Sorry. How are you going to bring her around? Talk to her?"

"That is my hope. She isn't here, however." Therese sighs and shakes her head. "When I found out about the attacks, I... made threats against her. Idle threats. Involving fire and her impious sating sheets. She took them quite seriously."

"I'd take you seriously, too."

"I suppose that is the double edged sword of having a feared reputation."



"I sent the word out that it was all a simple misunderstanding, and Jeanette asked me to meet her in the Surfside Diner, to reconcile. I'm grateful she's willing to see reason, but I have to keep my empire from crumbling through my fingers. Something she is doubtless incapable of appreciating. I'd like you to go in my place, meet her as my representative. Tell her that... I forgive her and I don't plan to take any action against her. If you can, convince her to stop this... foolishness between her and Tung. She asked me to meet her in the back booth, near the phones."

"Then you'll call off the feud?"

"Yes. For all her unwholesome diversions and irritating disruptions, I should be less tolerant of her. She is my sister, however, so I suppose I'm obligated to forgive her. I did sire her, after all." She looks away from the painting and towards me. "Please, be quick about it."



I take the elevator down and leave the club. More hoops than I'd wanted to jump through, but there's not much I can do. Hopefully Jeanette's in a good mood.



I trudge down the street, roughly adjusting the bundle and purse under my arm. At least the rain stopped awhile ago.



Emptier than it was earlier. Better for us, I suppose. Jeanette'd probably have a hard time trying not to draw attention to herself.



...I probably shouldn't talk.

I walk to the back of the Diner, near the end booth. Jeanette isn't here yet, hopefully I don't have to wait long. I'm about to slide into the booth when I hear the explosion of a gunshot.



I fall to the ground, slamming my back against the cover of the counter. I can hear screaming from the few patrons and personnel still in the diner.



I peek over the counter top towards the direction of the gunshot.



At least one male, lightly armed, coming around the corner towards me. And a healthy tan. Might as well have been a death sentence. As he rounds the corner I twist my foot and spin towards him, one hand wrapped firmly around the newspaper bundle in the crook of my arm. Time hits a glacial slog. Pieces of newspaper float in a circular trail behind me, twisting slowly in the air. The blade flashes under the artificial light as the last of it's wrapping peels away, both of us rising higher and higher.



He leans to his left like an ancient, twisting tree and the blade catches his arm just below the shoulder. It floats gently away from the rest of him, a trail of red behind it. My arm still following the molasses-like swing, I raise my knee as high as I can and send my bare foot into his chest like a sledgehammer. As his feet leave the ground, time snaps back to normal. Maybe even going faster, to catch up. His armless body slams into a booth table and I can hear something snap as he bounces off of it and lands in an unmoving heap on the floor. Shots still coming from near the door. I scoop his pistol off the ground where it landed. My skin hardens into armor as I charge into the middle of the Diner.



Three more men. I empty the pistol into the nearest man. A bullet rips through my shoulder. Then two more through my right breast. I drop the gun and run past his crumbled body towards the two remaining thugs.



As I near the leftmost man, he dodges away to avoid me. Feet still running, I twist to my right and bring the sword around in an upward slash that cuts through an inch of his chest. He falls backwards towards the last gunman as I rebound off the wall-lining bench and close the distance with a single leap, impaling him through the stomach.

He fires once more, bullet passing through my forehead. I slice the sword sideways in one motion until it's free of his stomach. He drops his gun and falls back against the wall.





My skin softens and I glance around the diner, the few patrons cowering in their booths and the single cook doing the same behind the counter. The two who are looking up look like they don't even believe what they watched. I glance around the floor at the bodies. I just killed four armed men with a sword.


I just killed four men.




With a sword.


I don't know if I believe that happened. I walk over to the corpse of the second man.



Ithaca 37. Pump Action. Civilian model. Fuck off strapped to a wooden stock and wedged with a firing pin. I take it from the floor, holding it in my left hand, sword still clutched in my right. I look around the diner once more, at the blood and the bodies and all the terrified patrons staring at me. I clear my throat and swing the shotgun around, pumping it with one hand and shouting at the quivering customers.

"This is why you people should have bought more guns."



I walk back to the end booth and toss my weapons on the table the dead man had bounced off of. I take the thirty eight he had strapped to his hip and dump it in my purse. Before I can swing it over my shoulder, the phone rings.



I slip it off the hook and answer in a kind, gentle voice.



"Hello?"

"Good, you're still here." Therese. "Either the men haven't come yet or they've come and you've beaten the-"

"They came. Assassins?"

"Assassins, yes. And that's for the best. It'll send a message to Jeanette. Can you believe the nerve? As if a handful of kine could do anything to me."

"Wait, hold on, how'd you know she sent assassins?"

"She told me. Not long after you left she came running in, blubbering about how she's sorry and she was just so mad and please don't go to the diner."

I find it hard to be pissed off after I managed to pull off something as amazing as that.

"You know, she's probably going to keep this up, with or without Tung."

"Oh, no. It's never going to happen again, I assure you." There's something in her tone I'm not sure if I like. "Come back to my office, we can talk about ending the feu-" Her voice cuts off, there's some static on the line. Then I hear Jeannette. Panicked. Practically out of her mind.

"Help me! You've got to help! She's going to kill me! She's lost her fucking-" More static. The line goes dead.

I hang up the phone, swing the purse over my shoulder and grab my sword and my gun. I'm going to walk right down the street with them, straight into the Asylum like a western gunslinger. I get as far as the front door before I hear the sirens.



Shit. Shit I forgot there were cops. Tires squeal outside the diner. I turn around and jump over the counter, kicking open the door to the kitchen. I sprint past a chef huddled in front of the stove and through two utility rooms before I break out into the back alley.



I run as fast as I can. I can hear footsteps chasing me as I round the corner. There's a dumpster set in a nook against one of the buildings. Hide in it? No, they'd just-

Then I see it. Just beside the dumpster is a manhole cover. I drop the weapons to the ground and pry it open without much effort. I toss the sword down the hole, grab the gun and then slip down, the cover snapping softly shut behind me.