literature

Ch. 15: Escapade

Deviation Actions

meggyweggy's avatar
By
Published:
720 Views

Literature Text

Sebastian LaCroix's Ghoul

Chapter 15: Escapade

My phone beeped, signaling the arrival of another text message. I reached towards where it lay on the couch beside me with lazy ease. Tonight was my first complete night off since becoming a ghoul, and I planned to spend every minute of it relaxing and really getting to know my room better. LaCroix was off doing some corporate activity, while Mercurio recovered at his home in Santa Monica. I still couldn't believe the wounds he had suffered from those hunters who had ambushed him in an alley somewhere. I knew he would be alright, but I still winced in sympathy at some the bruises and cuts the older ghoul had received.

The wall mounted television was turned to the Channel 9 News Network, where reporter Chad Burkum was spilling the beans on the latest celebrity gossip. Apparently, reckless movie star Ash Rivers had miraculously survived another high speed car crash into the gates of a studio in Hollywood. I remembered seeing the dark haired man in Negative Zero, with Lydia beside me sighing over and over about how absolutely HOT he was. Personally the man wasn't my type.

I looked at my phone to find yet another text message from Lydia, making this about the sixth one in the last ten minutes. She had apparently just got a new phone last night, and was texting me none stop. I felt bad for not answering her, I really did. She was probably scared, wanting to turn to someone for answers. But I wouldn't, couldn't give in. LaCroix had specifically told me to not talk to Lydia until she was finished with whatever job she was supposed to do in Santa Monica. However every minute that I ignored her only served to tempt me more and more as the night wore on.

Suddenly the phone buzzed, the screen lighting up to tell me that I was receiving a call. The Unknown Number already told me who it was. I pointedly ignored the device, focusing my attention on the T.V. screen.

The phone buzzed again.
And again.
And again.

Damnit all.

I picked up.

"Alice? Alice! Where have you been, I've been trying to reach you for ages! Why haven't you been answering me?" It took me a second to realize that the rasp coming over the line was indeed my friend. Oh Lydia..."Look, I have to make this quick. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you." "What? Why? Who says you can't talk to me? What's going on?" "Look, just tell me why you're calling me already. Didn't the Prince tell you that you can talk to me when you get back downtown?" "The Prince?- Y-yea, I know that, it's just that..." "What?" "I'm kinda stuck." "What do you mean?" "Well, it's a long story, but the Santa Monica Baron or whatever wants me to, well..." "What, Lydia?" "She wants me to break into a haunted hotel and take an 'item of the spirits', whatever that means."

I stared at the phone for a moment. Ghosts. What was the one thing that Lydia was scared of besides bugs and animals? Ghosts. Either someone did their homework or fate was playing a harsh joke on poor Lydia.

"Ali," She pleaded, "You know how I am about this sort of thing..." My voice became hard as I rallied myself against my best friend. "Well what do you want me to do? Banish the ghosts? Give the hotel a pretty makeover? Look, I'll stay on the line while you go get the thing, how's that?" "Noooooooo, that won't be enough. And besides, the place doesn't get service, I've already checked. And what happens if there's white noise?" "You've already been there? Then what do you need my help for?" "It's way too fucking scary, Alice. I swear to God I saw lights in the windows and stuff. Come on, Ali, I really need your help here! I need you to come with me! You've always been the one for all those horror flicks, right? Mirrors, Saw, Halloween, Paranormal Activity, the Ring... And remember when we watched Johnathan play F.E.A.R. in the dark? You fuckin' laughed or rolled your eyes the whole time while I cried in a corner! Please, please just come down here and come with me! If you're here it won't take long, I promise!"

I sat there, teetering on the edge of decision. Should I follow LaCroix's orders and ignore Lydia's pleas? Or should I go to Lydia in Santa Monica and risk a vampire Prince's wrath?

The answer, fortunately and unfortunately, was an obvious one.
_

Getting out of Venture Tower was fairly easy, considering. The penthouse itself was generally unoccupied, with only the odd cleaning lady or guy going about their tasks. Once I left the area I found myself in the marble covered office area. This place was a bit more tricky, but I kept my head down and pulled out the blackberry I had also been given, silently tapping away like it was some important email. I wore a business casual rose coloured sweater and black jeans that night, so I blended in quite nicely with the other late night office workers.

At times I sensed a supernatural presence pass by, but when I sneaked a look it at their pale predatory faces, it thankfully was never the one immortal I was trying to avoid. I wasn't surprised by these encounters; they weren't the first stranger vampires I'd come across here and I assumed they were Camarilla agents or something.

I tried to come up with an excuse to tell LaCroix if I did manage to run into him. Gym? Not good enough, my clothes were too nice. Gun club? Again, no good, because the place closes in about ten minutes. Restaurant? Maybe, but then he might a) want to accompany me, and/or b) ask what was wrong with the food back at the penthouse. I suppose I could tell him that I just wanted to get out of the penthouse and decided to go get some dessert from the restaurant just for a change of scenery. That's it, that's what I would tell him. I just wanted a change of scenery.

I was so preoccupied with my scheming that I just about ran into the man. I was just turning a corner when in the front peripherals of my vision I espied a blonde head. I don't know what instinct told me to hide, as there was more than one fair haired male in the crowd tonight, but as soon as I saw it I quickly yet casually swung back around and hid in a niche around the corner, almost too scared to breathe. I could hear LaCroix's voice floating around the corner, and I thanked every lucky star out there that I had trusted my gut.

"Tell Jameson that I need those reports by Monday, about an hour before the conference. And where is Watson? I need to speak with her about those production issues that were occurring in Canada a few weeks ago..."

A silvery rectangular vase in the corner of the hallway gave me a somewhat clear view of what was happening around the corner. A few older men and women stood in a sort of O-group around LaCroix, with the person himself standing with his back to the marbled wall. All of them leaned in towards their boss like he was whispering the secrets of the universe or something.

Funny; did any of them have any idea that the youngest looking person there was actually about four times their age? Was anyone suspicious of his obvious maturity? I mean, what sort of an early twenty-something self-made overnight billionaire (or so the common story goes) wouldn't be out partying or some such this late at night? Even now he conducted himself with the experience and manner much closer to a 60 year old businessman rather than a boy straight out of University. Maybe it was because I already knew what he was, or because of that weird sixth sense being a ghoul provided me with, but the undead always seemed to stick out somehow. Whether they were too beautiful, too knowledgeable, too graceful, or anything else, they all were highlighted in my mind's eye.

Eventually, LaCroix moved on down one of the arms of the T shaped intersection, thankfully in the opposite direction of the elevators. I slipped inside of one, crowded in with the rest of the late night work horses. I tensed up slightly as I sensed a vampire in the back corner, a red haired, serious looking woman holding a clipboard in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She paid me no mind, however, and got off on the 57th floor.

I stepped into the lobby, preparing myself for one last hurdle: Desk Security.

Officer Krantz was on shift, and I cursed inwardly. Damnit, the guy knew me by name. Chances were that if he saw me, he would either want to chat, or if LaCroix came by would mention my leaving the building. I stalled behind the wall of the stair case, wondering what the hell I was going to do. Luck, it seemed, was with me again, as an elevator door dinged and a group of yuppy's came bustling out, talking about statistics and reports and other business jargen that was way over my head. As they passed by I surreptitiously joined their group, sticking to the side furthest away from the desk. A few seconds later, I stood on the sidewalk outside of Venture Tower, feeling absolutely triumphant that I had gotten out undetected. It was a feat worthy of one of Lydia's exploits. All I had to do now was flag down a taxi.

It took a few minutes, ironically harder than my elope from Venture, but after attempting to wave down cab after cab, a yellow 50's style car pulled up. The driver in front had short black hair, wore dark clothes, and to my surprise wore a pair of really dark sunglasses, despite the fact that it was almost ten o'clock at night. I didn't sense a vampiric presence about him, so I supposed his shades were for some sort of eye condition. But then again, if he had an eye condition, what was he doing in the driver seat of a car? I decided to get in anyways. Hell, if an LA cab business hired him, he must be safe, right?

"Where to?"

"Santa Monica." I told him. "In front of Trip's Pawnshop on Main Street." I got into the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt as we pulled into heavy LA traffic. After a couple of minutes, the driver spoke. "Are you heading down to the pier tonight? I hear it is closed for a murder investigation." His accent was heavy, though I couldn't identify its origin. Somehow it reminded me of Bram Stoker's Dracula. "No, I'm meeting a friend so we can, uh, go clubbing." "You don't sound like you come from here. From what country is your origin?" "I'm Canadian. Toronto born." The driver nodded as if it made sense. "Are you by chance a Ms. Alice Kepler?" I glanced sharply at him. "How do you know my name?" "I apologize if I have alarmed you. I read about your tragic story in the newspaper a few nights ago. I am truly sorry for your loss." "Thanks," I murmured, thinking hard. I didn't remember any sort of article in the paper, or anyone trying to contact me for it. I said as much to the driver.

"The article said that you were unavailable for an interview, and that you were mourning for your family. Or at least, that is what your new guardian said." "Guardian? What guardian? I'm eighteen years old, I don't have a guardian." "Forgive me, but that word is the closest I can come to being accurate, at least by what I see. Is Mr. LaCroix not like a guardian to you?" "What? No! Of course not. He's just my boss, and I don't know if this was in the paper or not, but he's just letting me stay at his penthouse until I can get back on my feet. As soon as I earn enough money, I'm moving out." "You work for him? What do you do?" Uh oh. I sputtered out answers, trying not to seem too uncomfortable. "I, um, work in the marketing department. Right now, I just do errands and stuff, nothing exciting. But I do get to sit in on some really interesting focus groups, so that's a plus..."

In terms of lies and fabrications, this guy was giving me the run for my money. I admit lying was a well trained skill I was not proud of, covering for Lydia whenever the need rose, which was rather often. I had no idea why I was even defending myself to this stranger, or why I was telling him anything in the first place. Since when was my life his business? Honestly, I've met some chatty cab drivers, but usually they only speak of surface things, like celebrity gossip or local happenings. Then again, this was a local happening, so I guess it was fair that he would be curious. But come to think of it, it was strange that there wasn't anyone wanting to see me about what happened. I know that murder was sadly not a new thing for humans, but a murder-victim taken under the wing of a reclusive multi-billionaire must be an interesting story somewhere. And what about the police? Why hadn't they contacted me? Surely they'd want a witness statement, to know what happened and to get descriptions and stuff. One thing was for sure: I had questions for the Prince, if I ever could gather up the courage to ask them.

A few minutes later we slowed down, and the rusted yellow cab came to a halt in front of in front of a grimy building. I quickly got out and dug out some cash in my pocket, pausing only to figure out the different bills that made up the American currency. With my cab fare paid, I turned around and hurried into the darkness.
_

The cab driver sat in his car, watching the girl go. So knowledgeable. Smart, strong. And with the words of the crone an undercurrent to her every word...

Yes, she would do nicely.
_

I traveled down the alley, all my senses alert for danger. Understandable, considering what happened the last time I went down one. The thought brought a stab of pain to my chest. How could we have been so stupid? If only my mother hadn't... If my father didn't... If I had just said something...

"BOO!"

I nearly screamed as a monstrous figure materialized before me. I sagged against a nearby dumpster holding a hand to my chest as my heart raced. "Holy fuck," I gasped. "Oh my God... Lydia?... What the hell..." A piercing laugh came from the creature in front of me, jagged teeth barred in my direction. "Ali, you should have seen the look on your face! I swear to God you looked like you were having a heart attack." I sighed internally. It was Lydia all right. But her voice had changed, becoming a rasping mockery of her old lyrical tones. It pained me to see her this way: her skin a greenish yellow, boils everywhere, a bald head with a face that looked like it had been stretched painfully over the skull. I stood up feeling a little shaky, and, on impulse, made myself hug the creature in front of me.

"Hey!..." said Lydia, surprised. Slowly her own arms circled around me, tightening to an unusual looseness. Of this I was thankful. Lydia's hugs as a human were painful enough, I hated to think what would happen if she forgot her strength as a vampire just once. When we stepped away from each other, she looked at me and grinned. "Wanna see my crib?" she giggled, offering me a clawed hand. I was loathe to spend any more time away from the Ivory Tower then was absolutely necessary, but I knew it would make her feel better if I agreed. Taking her hand, I followed her into the side door and up the stairs.
_

The place was absolutely filthy. A pizza box mouldered in the corner of a stained counter top in the tiny kitchen. Hidden flies buzzed in the single room apartment, and I saw a cockroach duck into a crevice in the wall. I resisted the urge to gag at the smell.

"This is your place?" I asked, a little incredulous. Apparently the Prince's generosity extended only so far, especially considering Lydia's charity case. Bouncing playfully on the coverless mattress Lydia's ruined lips twitched, but she said nothing. The ugly green wallpaper peeled off the walls, and I found the TV was lousy at best when I turned it on. An old radio sat on the counter, but I didn't feel like turning that on too. Besides, we still had work to do, and every second we spent here was another second for LaCroix to come back to the penthouse and discover my little escapade. "Come on, Lyds," I said. "We gotta get moving before we're caught." "Agreed." She sighed, and came down from her wannabe trampoline. With that, we slipped outside towards our appointed task.
This is the story of Sebastian LaCroix's other attempt to gain power, by attempting to recruit an Old Soul as his main counsellor. Old Souls are renowned for their innate knowledge and wisdom and starteling insight, which stems from experiance of past memories that are starting to percolate into their conciousness from their unconcious minds. With this knowledge Sebastian believes he will have a much greater advantage over his enemies, but first he must teach her obediance. The events of this story run parrallel to the events of Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines, as this Old Soul struggles to fight against her Blood Bond with Sebastian and runs the risk of shattering her mind.

Start here: [link]

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any characters, settings, or storyline or anything else from Troika Games RPG, this is just a fanfic.

Please comment i want to know what you think! and please be nice about it! thanks. :D:D:D
© 2011 - 2024 meggyweggy
Comments2
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
AilynSnape's avatar
Nice, very nice!:w00t!: Can't wait until LaCroix finds out...:evillaugh: (Am I cruel?? :hmm:)