FicWad

AN: This scene is almost entirely canon Vampire: Bloodlines - for example the Prince's speech is entirely ripped from the game itself - every line he has (until the scene in the theatre is over) was written by someone else. And this point actually brings me to a dilemma - should I continue with the Bloodlines storyline, of have Harry depart completely from it? From the reviews I've got, It doesn't seem that Bloodlines is a familiar tale... Write back with your thoughts. At the end of the chapter I will (dependant vastly on what the reviews suggest) choose the direction this story will go - canon Bloodlines or back to London.

The Camarilla existed first and foremost to enforce an edict
-- A Masquerade--
by which to hide.
They erased all evidence of Themselves from sight of the living and slowly
-- over many, many years--
They became as myths to the minds of man.
And thus concealed they have continued to grow in power
And to guide Humanity to suit their whims.
'The Masquerade'



Head pounding.

The ceiling spun.

Agonising pain.

The world darkened.

Silence.




Harry shot up with a gasp. His body felt... strange. Something was wrong with him. He felt cold, so cold. A quick glance around showed that he was still in the bed, naked. The woman was sitting in a chair against the wall, a secretive smile on her face. Harry opened his mouth to ask what happened when a splintering crash spun him around. Before he could move, a shape leapt into the room, slamming a wood stake through his heart. The world blacked out once more.



"My apologies for disrupting any business or interfering with prior engagements you may have had this evening."

Harry's consciousness returned in a burst of pain from his chest. He looked around woozily.

"It's unfortunate that the incident that gathers us tonight is a troubling one."

He was on his knees somewhere, in a theatre from the looks of it. His hands were bound behind him, and someone held him down with a strong hand.

"We are here because the laws that bind our society - the laws that are the fabric of our existance... have been broken."

Next to him, the woman was similarly bound. Harry looked around in growong fear. What the hell was going on?

"As Prince, under Camerilla Law, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindrid of this city the privilage of siring Childre."

The room was dark. He was on the stage, as though in some strange play, with perhaps thirty odd seats filled. The people sat in groups around the room, solumny watching the stage.

"Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests."

Harry blearily focused on the speaking man - or Prince, as he called himself. He was pale, as was all the people in the room seemed to be, elegantly dressed in an expensive suit.

"However," The Prince continued, gesturing briefly towards the woman "The accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission." He turned back to the crowd, "Indeed, my permission was never sought at all. They were caught shortly after the embrace of this," At this point the man gestured towards Harry "... Childer." The Prince paused for a second, before continuing. "It pains me to announce the sentence. As some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression... is death." The Prince paused, as some of the crowd, most specifically a clump sitting together - Harry noted - reacted slightly to this. The Prince opened his arms placatingly before continuing. "Know that I am no more an adjudicator, than I am a servant to the law that governs us all." The clump shifted restlessly, but other than that, the crowd stilled.
The Prince turned back to the crowd, with a passionately earnest expression, "Let tonights proceedings serve as a reminder to our community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society..." He paused to stare directly at the small group sitting in the middle "Lest we endanger all of our blood." The group, seemingly unimpressed, stared back at the Prince.

Sudenly the Prince turned away from the crowd, towards the woman "Forgive me," He whispered, before turning back to the croud. "Let the sentence commence." A huge figure, unseen by Harry, stepped out of the shadows. He pulled a huge sword from his back, larger than Harry himself was, and leveled it at the woman's neck.

"No" Harry whispered, horrified, flashbacks of Buckbeak running through his head. Were they really... Harry shut his eyes as the blade decended, the only sound being a sizzling. Harry opened his eyes again in shock. Where the woman once knelt, there was nothing. She was completely gone. Harry stared, numb. He had not known the woman well, but she had given him fond memories, and he had liked her. Now she was gone.

"Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotton child."

Harry's blood ran cold. Apparently, they had not forgotten him. The Prince faced back to the croud, his refined tone dispasionate. "Without a sire, most childer are doomed to walk the earth, never knowing their place, their responsibility, and most importantly," He said, not glancing at Harry "The laws they must obey." The Prince paused at this point again, as though to drive the point home. The feeling of unease and wrongness which Harry had been experiencing since he had woken had turned into a ball of dread in his stomach. He tried to speak up in his own defence, but his voice failed him, and he was only able to mouth wordlessly 'twenty five!' he screamed in his head 'I'm only twenty five!'
"Therefore..." the prince continued, "I have decided that..."
He trailed off, eyes sharpening as in the troublesome clump a figure stood up.

"This is bullshit!" The figure yelled at the stage, jumping to his feet. The others in that clump stood as well, clearly waiting to back up the shouting man. The Prince seemed taken aback. For a long moment, he looked to the other figures in the crowd, up in the rampart, across at the base, even off stage to the left.

"If Mr Rodriguez would let me finish?" He continued smoothly, this quick inspection apparently meaning something Harry could not make out. "I have decided to let this kindred... live." Harry slumped, relief courseing through him. He had no idea what was going on, but being allowed to live seemed to be a good thing. "He shall be instructed in the ways of our kind, and granted the same rights." Harry slumped on his knees, his muscles weak. He noted that the clump of troublesome people - Kindred? Harry thought in confusion - had gotten up and started to leave. "Let noone say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community." The prince said, a touch of anger in his voice, before his tone returned to it's refined politeness "I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I hope their significance is not lost. Goodnight." The prince bowed slightly.

"Your sire, tragic, I do apologise" The prince stated smoothly as Harry was released. "However," He continued, walking away forcing Harry to follow, "there are rules to which we all must..." the prince hesitated, as though serching for the word "must... adhere." Much of what the prince said slipped out of Harry's head quickly, as though in a dream. Harry nodded along dumbly as the prince continued, speaking about respect, and homour, and law and order. Finally dismissed with a simple 'Good evening.' Harry stumbled from the now abandoned theatre in a daze. What the hell had happened? What had they done to him? What the hell was all that crap?

A bout of laughter caught his attention, and he spun to see a biker looking bloke leaning against a nearby wall. "Increadable ain't it?" The figure laughted "What a fucking scene! They just plop you out like a fucking newborn, and sent you out into the streets," the figure laughed again in good humour.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Harry asked,

"I'm Jack." The figure answered with a smile "And I'm offering help."

"Yes, please." Harry answered in relief. Any guidence on what happened was needed.

"Cool," Jack smiled, "First things first, have you had anything to drink yet?" Jack continued.

"Drink? Er, what do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled, though a sinking suspicion rose in him.

Jack burst out laughing again, the answer aparently a good joke "Oh man, we're really busting a cherry here!" Jack laughed for another second, before pulling himself together "Okay, here's the deal, kid. You're a vampire now. Blood? It's your champaine now, it's your rack of lamb, it's your fucking heroin." He smiled. Harry nodded weakly; though he was not realy surprised, confirmation still hit him hard. Vampire. What did he know of vampires? Harry remembered vaguely reading about vampires in fourth year, before Snape had focused on werewolves...

"Okay kid," Jack said, breaking Harry out of his thoughts "There's a guy around the corner who's got a flat tyre, poor bastard," Jack chuckled, "Sneak up on him, and, you know," he trailed off meaningfully. Harry nodded, turning towards the alley. Wait! He paused. Didn't he read somewhere that vampires infected others with bites? Or was that just werewolves?

"Er, won't he, you know," Harry stuttered weakly. Jack looked at him blankly. "Become a, you know," He leaned closer "vampire?" he whispered confidently. Jack burst out laughing again.

"Shit no, kid that's just movie bullshit. It takes pretty specific actions to turn a guy, and having a drink won't do it. One thing kid, don't kill him." Jack answered.

"Okay," Harry replyed, steeling himself. The idea of sucking on some guys neck was not really appealing. Harry crept carefully around the corner into a small alleyway where a man in a suit was standing by a car, just finishing up on his mobile phone.

"Look, I've got a flat," he said "I'll be home as soon as triple A gets here." He listened for a second, "I know baby, but it wasn't..." He trailed off again, an exasperated look on his face. "Well, I'll get it tomorrow... Okay... Love you."He hung up. Harry crept closer, finding it strangely easy to move silently over the ground. The man turned, and Harry paused for a second, before the man turned back towards his car. Harry crept closer, his footfall still silent. Sudenly an entising smell wafted towards him. Harry paused, and sniffed deeply, his mouth starting to water. What was that smell? It was coming from the man, Harry realised vaguely disgusted. The closer he got, the stronger the smell became. Suddenly, the man looked entirely more appatising. Harry leapt instinctively with a snarl, grabbing hold of the man, who was able to give a startled yelp, before sinking his teeth into his neck. The rich blood that filled his mouth was the most increadable flavour he had ever tasted. He swallowed the blood thirstily, feeling a strange warmth flooding though his body, as well as an wonderful feeling of wellbeing. The man had stopped struggling as soon as Harry's teeth had bit him, and he stood as though stunned. Harry drank, vaguely noting the blood start to become weaker, and a pulsing he had felt in his teeth - the man's heartbeat, Harry recognised - started to slow. Remembering Jack's words, he pulled himself away from his target regretfully watching in astonishment as the neck would closed up instantly. The man himself swayed gently, as though unconsciece on his feet. Harry waved a hand across his eyes, receiving no reaction. Harry felt, for the first time since he had been turned, alive. Hot blood rested comfortably in him, and he felt energised, as though he had drunk a gallon of coke. He could feel the strength in his vampire body, and, testing himself, he leapt straight up. "Wow!" he whispered with a grin as he cleared the swaying man's head.

Harry bound back out of the alley way, to where Jack stood leaning against a wall opposite the theatre. Jack peered at Harry, an intense look on his face.

"Yeah. Hell yeah. You're feeling it." He said, staring at Harry "All that blood pulsing though you, you're a natural born killer." He nodded seriously.

"I feel great!" Harry answered honestly, "Like I can take on the world!"

"Yeah," Jack smiled "Remember the feeling, it's never as sweet as the first time." He trailed off, as though reminicing, before clapping his hands together "Okay, so you're a bad ass vampire, great for you. But there are a few things you got to know."

"Like what?" Harry asked puzzled,

"Well, things about being kindred - that's our word for vampire." He explained at Harry's look. "Firstly, you are now immortal. Congradulations! You have stopped aging!"

Harry sat back at that, stunned, a grin coming over his face. After all he had gone through, all that had happened - he had completely forgoten about his original problem. "So I'm going to live forever?" He asked distantly.

"Well, unless you're killed." Jack answered, "Okay, let me give you the lowdown. First of all, most of the stereotypes are full of shit. Holy water? Doesn't do jack. A cross? Shove it up their ass! A wooden stake? Only if it hits you in the heart, and even then it'll only paralise you."

Harry shivered, and rubbed his chest. Aparently he had already experienced what stakes would do.

"Running water? I bathe..." Jack continued. Harry shot him a disbelieving look "... Ocasionally." Jack said defensively, before continueing on quickly, "Now a shotgun to the face? That's trouble. Fire? That's real trouble. Sunlight? Well, you catch a sunrise, and it'll be the last thing you ever do." He smiled "Generally speaking..." Gunfire cut him off. Jack spun around with a snarl "What the fuck was that?" Harry didn't answer, ducking down. "Look kid," Jack said, turning back to Harry "Get inside, I'll scout around." Jack pushed the door, which was apparently open, and Harry ducked inside. It was some kind of mechanics shop, with various parts of cars lying around, and big oilstains on the ground. A scaffolding ran around the edge of the room, disapearing around the side, to what appeared to be an upstairs office. Harry easily climbed up, again surprised with the grace and agility of his vampire - Kindred - body. Harry started as a figure moved out of a shadow, before realising that it was Jack. "Keep down, away from the window." Jack hissed. Outside, gunfire and howls rent the night.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

Jack sighed "It's a fucking Sabbat raid. The dumb fucks heard that there was a Camerilla gathering and decided to bust the place up."

"Sabbat?" Harry asked cautiously "Who are they?"

Jack sighed, frusterated "Shit, I'd hoped to tell you that crap later... The Sabbat... shit." Jack said, though finding the words "The Sabbat are a group of kindred who think that humans are better than humans and should be ruling them. They think that the Camarilla are weak for refusing their nature, and hiding from humans."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked "Refusing what nature? And who are the Camarilla?"

"Every kindred has a beast inside him," Jack answered after a short pause. "It's the thing that wants to kill, to make a kindred a mindless animal. We fight against it, to keep our minds." He said "To fight it, we don't kill innocents, and we stay well fed. Like that guy you fed on," Jack explained "If you had killed him, it would have strengthened the beast in you. The Sabbat on the other hand think that the beast is our true nature, which is why they are like that," Jack gestured with disgust as a couple of Sabbat figures ran past the window, howling and firing machine pistols wildly.

"Oh," Harry said intelligently.

"In any case," Jack said, testing a door down the hallway, before simply kicking it in casually. "Just remember those things, and you'll be fine." Harry followed Jack into a small office, as he walked to a back door. "Here, you go through here, I'll check around." Harry nodded, and carefully crept through the door.

The door led to a small stairwell - a fire escape probably, Harry figured, and exiting out of the building, into a small alleyway. Unfortunately for him, he was not careful while doing so and two figures at the other end of the alley spun around and opened fire. Blinding pain struck, and Harry stagered back. The shots stopped quickly however, and Harry looked up just in time to duck a flying body, which smashed against the door where Harry stood, before dusting. Thirty feet away, at the other end of the alley, Jack stood, cracking his knuckles.

"Sabbat bastards! Fucking waste of unlife!" Jack snarled as Harry limped over.

"What the bloody hell was that!" Harry shouted.

"Hey hey!" Jack laughed "You get winged? Wowee, look at the size of those plugholes!"

"They bloody hurt!" Harry sulked, though the pain had quickly died to a slight sting. "I need stitches, or something."

Jack patted Harry companiably on the shoulder "They'll close up pretty quickly if you get some blood in you..." He sniffed interigatively before shrugging apologetically "Looks like your shit out of luck kid, can't smell anyone nearby,"

"Then what, they'll stay open like this?" Harry asked, freaked out. He'd figured that kindred could take a fair sight more punishment that a human, but having half a dozen holes in him could not be good.

"Nah," Jack reassured, "those holes 'll close up soon enough anyway."

"Oh," Harry replied, "What do we do now,"

"Hmm," Jack mused, eying Harry speculatively, "I saw a Sabbat guarding the exit to the street around the corner, if you take him out, we're free and clear, and you can get back to Santa Monica."

"Okay," Harry replied "I'll go and... wait" He stopped "I'll take him out? Why don't you take him out?"

"Don't worry kid," Jack smiled "He's greener than you are, it'll give you a chance to test your stuff out."

"But, but..." Harry stuttered, looking for an excuse, as Jack gently but firmly pushed him out of the alley. "But, but..."

"Go get 'em kid!" Jack smiled before yelling "Hey you Sabbat piece of shit! Over here!" Harry eyed him in disbelief, as he was answered with a growl.

The Sabbat were ugly, Harry thought absently, as the deformed shape of the Sabbat kindred stepped out of the shadows, a tyre iron in hand. Fast though, his next thought was as the Sabbat raced towards him, swinging the iron wildly. Harry barely managed to dodge out of the way, before responding with a wild swing, which connected to the Sabbat's ribs, barely moving the vampire. For all the new inprovements his body had undergone, knowledge of how to fight did not seem to be one of them. 'Damn you Buffy the Vampire Slayer' Harry though, frantically dodging the Sabbat 'I believed you! What happened to every vampire knowing karate?' Further thoughts were imposible as a shot finaly got through Harry's defence, hitting Harry hard across the face. Harry staggered back, his face burning, as the Sabbat pressed his advantage swinging again. This time, Harry was able to defend, taking the blow on his forearm and, from the feeling, breaking it. Harry fell back with a cry, cradeling his broken arm. "It's all over, Camerilla fuck!" He snarled, bringing the iron down again. Harry lifted a hand weakly, wishing more than anything he had his wand, or something to kill the vampire with when a strange sensation ran through his right arm. Sudenly, a glob of something - blood, Harry recognised weakly - shot from the palm of his hand into the Sabbat's chest. Both vampires paused dumbly, until the Sabbat simply burst into dust. From the dust, a larger glob of blood raced back towards Harry, and re-entered his palm. "What the hell was that?" He thought outloud in amazement, as his various wounds healed.

"That," Jack's voice made him jump "Looked like a blood strike."

"A blood strike?" Harry questioned, shaking his healed left arm in wonder. While he had seen wounds healed that quick - generally wounds he had suffered - his new healing ability was strange.
"Yeah," Jack nodded slowly "A blood strike."

"What's that, like a Kindred ability?" Harry asked, excited. It was, after all, very cool.

"Not exactly," Jack said, thoughfully "Though I supose it's a good thing you shot it. Looks like you're a Tremere."

Harry waited for an explination, but Jack stayed silent "What's a Tremere?" He finally prompted.

"It's like this kid," Jack said, leaning against the wall again, "As the story goes, the original Kindred was a guy named Cain."

"Wait, you mean Cain as in Cain and Abel," Harry asked

"Right in one," Jack nodded "In any case, after he killed Abel, he was cursed to wander the earth. He became the first vampire. Anyway, he bit a few others, who became the second generation vampires, they in turn bit thirteen vampires, who are known as the Antediluvians - vampires who are pretty much all powerful." Jack sighed as he thought deeply "These Antediluvians created the thirteen clans of Kindred, who share different powers and abilities."

"Oh," Harry replied, before brightening "So my clan is Tremere?"

"Looks like it," Jack smiled with a shrug "Thaumaturgy is only used by them."

"Thaumat..., Thaumaticag... What is that?" Harry asked with difficulty.

"Thaumaturgy," Jack enonciated slowly, grinning at the sour look on Harry's face "Is blood magic. Your guys are actually not one of the thirteen clans - as the story goes, the Tremere used to be a clan of wizards looking for a way to gain immortality, what they reckon is that Tremere managed to capture one of the Antediluvians, and somehow made himself kindred."

"Wow," Harry breathed, uncertainly. "What clan are you?" He asked tentatively.

Jack grinned toothily "Brujah." He replied "We're well known as being brutes and thugs." He smiled toothily, shrugging innocently "Don't know what gives them that idea."

"Right," Harry stated ironically. Harry stretched, feeling his spine crack. "So how does the Thaumaturgy" He grinned victoriously, ignoring Jack's faux gasp, before continuing "Do you know any spells?" His grin died as Jack shook his head negatively.

"Sorry kid," Jack said "The Tremere ain't exactly the most sociable types, and if there's one thing that gets up their nose, it's the idea of anyone outside their clan learning anything about their blood magis" He sniffed in disaproval "Personally I don't see what the attraction is, magic?" He shrugged "The day I need magic is the day ripping someones jawbone off and stabbing them in the eye with it stops being fun, know what I mean?" His grin died at Harry's look of horror. "What? Maybe it's just me." He mused, as Harry nodded mutely. "Anyway, if you want to learn more of that magic" He rolled the world out in tolerant distaste "You should look for more Tremere. They're a pretty tight knit bunch."

"Thanks Jack," Harry said, grateful to the big, scary, biker looking bloke who nevertheless seemed the only friend he had. Except maybe for... "Hey Jack," Harry said "Who was that bloke in the theatre, that stood up?"

"That's Nines." Jack grinned, "Real stand up guy. Looks like you owe him your life." Harry nodded in mute agreement. A horn beeped from the road. "Look's like you're ride's here." Jack said with a glance, before pulling something from under his jacket. "Here kid, take this." Harry took the object, and examined it with slight panic.

"Jack," He hissed "This is a gun." Jack laughed.

"Well, at least you know the basics." He grinned in amusement, holding up a hand to cut of Harry's protests "Look kid, from the way you fought, you're gunna need it more than I will."

"Well," Harry said, slightly embarrassed.

"Nevermind, kid." Jack grinned placatingly "Now it's only a thirty-eight, so I wouldn't bother using it on anything stronger than a gangbanger. I'd suggest you get hold of something bigger as soon as you can. Like a shotgun. Man those things sting." Jack winced in memory.

"Er, right." Harry said akwardly, fumbling the gun under his shirt, "Well..." He trailed off helplessly, attempting to find the words for his gratitude..

Jack's eyes widened in panic. "Hey! None of that crap, I'm just helping out a fellow kindred! None of that wishy washy shit."

"No problem Jack." Harry smiled.

Jack smiled in relief. "Well, good. I'll see you around kid. If you ever come back downtown, stop in at the Last Ride. Good luck." Harry lifted a hand in salute, as Jack turned and walked away. Harry walked to the taxi and, with a grimace, attempted to bend to get in without dislodging his gun which was digging uncomfortably close to his groin.

"Where to?" The driver asked. Harry hesitated. "Santa Monica," He answered decisively. The driver wordlessly pulled away from the curb, smoothly accelerating. Harry leaned back, closing his eyes. It had been a big day.