"I really don't wanna go through the whole thing, to be honest."
"Let's go over the facts again."
Sybil stared at the man under the hot light in the cold interrogation room.
"And I already told you that we have several strands of your hair found at the crime scene," Sybil said, sliding the manila folder that held several files of the case including the bagged hairs recovered from the scene. "So...talk."
"You got nothing. I went to a bar. Going to bars isn't illegal."
"Being involved in burning them to the ground is." Sybil said, staring at the man.
"You can't prove I did that." The man replied, arms crossed over his chest. Sybil gave an audible sigh.
"Alright...well, I didn't want to have to do this." Sybil said, her eyes focusing upon the man. As he looked to her, meeting her gaze, a small channeling of the vitae later she was issuing a command. "Confess."
"Yes." The man's entire demeanor seemed to change. His face scrunched up for a moment as though he'd smelled something unpleasant, but soon gave way to a sort of...blank expression. "Yes, I did it. I set those fires."
"That'll do it." Sybil said. "Harvey Marshall, I am placing you under arrest for arson." The Malkavian slipped around behind him, pressing the stop button on the tape as she did so and pulling out her handcuffs.
"He won't be pleased, Detective." The man, Harvey spoke. "He is coming for you..."
"I'm sure he will." Sybil said. "Let's go."
"He's going to fix the mirror...daughter of...Malkav." Harvey hissed out. Sybil did a double take.
". . .what did you just say?" Harvey quickly began to convulse. Even without her hearing upon him, Sybil recognized the signs of a heart attack.
"SOMEBODY CALL THE EMS!" She shouted.
"Ben!"
The Gangrel turned at the sound of the woman's voice, watching Angelica coming toward him from the crosswalk.
"Angel, hey." He smiled upon her approach, giving a small wave. "Glad that you made it."
"It was no trouble at all." Angel smiled. She was clad in a floral print blouse and skinny jeans, a lighter jacket on her shoulders to help fend off the colder autumn weather, locks of her curly red hair rested on those same shoulders. "You ready to go in?"
"Yeah, just doing one quick thing." Ben said, pulling his phone out of his hoodie and shutting it off before putting it right back in.
"I'm...surprised. What's that for?" Angel asked him.
"Because tonight, Miss Knox, you have my full attention." Ben said, opening the door to the movie theater. "Shall we?"
'You shouldn't be too upset.'
"Shut up."
'I mean it. That was a clean kill. You should be proud.'
"Shut up!" Grace Penderghast was bent over her sink, disgusted with what she had seen in the mirror. If Kindred could have vomited, she would have to what she'd been seeing in the mirror the last few nights. The fact that Marquis' voice rang out so clearly in her mind when her hunger struck did not help matters.
'You gorged yourself on me like a starving animal...why should you feel shame?'
"I'm better than that. I'm better than you." Grace wiped the corners of her mouth off on a soft cloth, turning away from the bathroom mirror where the image of Marquis was laughing at her even now.
'I guess you are, Princess. I guess you are...'
Grace left the bathroom behind in disgust, Marquis' laughter echoing through the corridors of her mind.
Harvey Marshall was pronounced dead of a massive coronary right there on the interrogation room floor. The EMTs carried the body off to be taken to the morgue and Sybil was left with the Chief, who gave a sigh.
"Problem, boss?" Sybil asked him.
"You got the confession out of him...so at least the case is closed." Chief Harold replied to her. "I just feel...as though there's something more to this."
"I know what you mean." Sybil said. Indeed, she did. Apart from her work in hunting down this serial arsonist, she'd noticed an all-too convenient pattern. The bar (which, to her dismay, was not called O'Malley's) had been the latest in a cycle...and, despite the crack work of the Seattle Police Department, Harvey Marshall wasn't the only man responsible, she knew only too well.
Two of the sites had been Kindred hang outs. A third had been an actual haven for one.
This was a deliberate series of strikes. The question that remained, even after all this, was why?
Sybil had gone back to her office and was now looking at her thumb-tacked board. Lines of string connected things to things to things and Harvey Marshall had been a convenient enough scapegoat to pin the whole thing on: put a picture in the newspaper and saw the man was caught and that be the end of it. The public would be none the wiser...which worked well enough for keeping the Masquerade going.
Having already been approached by a Primogen, Sybil definitely did not want to be getting another summons from Prince Blanchard. Not after last time.
Although, that made the next part of this little adventure all the harder. Her eyes looked over the map again, to the five points that had been left chalked up to Harvey Marshall. Something was bugging her, something that she was seeing that she hadn't before. Picking up the Sharpie on the board, she quickly traced the lines between the dots.
There, in between all the points, was a perfect crescent.
"Hmm..." Sybil said, hilting her head to the left and to the right as she looked at it. Something stirred in her mind, something that didn't-she stopped as her eyes widened. A vision came to her eyes...the moon...and the star...
The moon...and the star...
Moon...and star...
She snatched up her keys from the desk and headed out, one destination in mind.
"Renfield Special. No lemon." Sybil said. "And I need to speak to Isaac Carroway."
"Mr. Carroway is not available at the moment. He's tending to some-"
"Yeah, okay...then I'll ask you, bartender-y man." Sybil said, picking up and putting down a photograph or one Harvey Marshall on the bar. "You ever seen this guy?"
"Him? Nah." The bartender, a man on the beefier side with a pierced nose and a series of increasingly intricate tattoos along his left and right arms, glanced at the photo. "Sorry..."
"Yeah, I thought not. Useless ass psychic powers..." Sybil sighed. The drink, a glass of vitae, was placed in front of her and instead of the lemon she got a little umbrella.
"That'll be $8.50." The bartender said just as Sybil got a hold of the straw and was about to gleefully down a bit of vitae, stopping just before her lips met the object.
"Put it on my tab, Frank." Sybil spun around in her chair to see-
"Hope!" Sybil grinned. "I feel like I haven't seen you since December!"
". . .huh?" Hope asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "I...saw you like...a week ago?"
"Never mind, never mind." Sybil said. "Thanks for the drink. How have you been?"
Hope approached, one leg twisting over the stool before she sat on it. "Pretty okay. Been keeping the wood outta my chest. Y'know."
"Definitely a good idea." Sybil said, sipping from her glass and thinking that must have been a reference to something she hadn't been present for. Or, perhaps she had, she had a hard time keeping up anymore.
"Yeah, totes. What's going on with you?" Hope asked.
"Investigation. Someone's been burning down Kindred hotspots."
"Wait, seriously? That's what that was? Shit."
"Yeah, it's pretty bad. Found the guy...well, a guy...but I'm pretty sure he wasn't the one responsible, at least not completely."
"How do you figure?"
"He called me a daughter of Malkav right before he died."
"Wait, what? And he was...kine?"
"Yup."
". . .shit."
"Yeah. Someone's trying to pull something. I'm trying to figure out what." Sybil said. "If that guy knew about us, then somebody's been naughty about keeping up the Masquerade."
"Right...and that's no bueno." Hope sighed, nodding a bit. "I know a guy who might be able to help, wanna go see him?"
"Totally." With a lead firmly in hand, the pair made their way back out to Sybil's car and drove off into the night. Sybil, this time, had elected to drive.
"When you get up in the morning / and the light is hurt your head / the first thing you do, when you get up outta bed/ is hit that streets a-runnin' and try to beat the masses / and go get yourself some cheap sunglasses!"
"Seriously?" Hope rolled her eyes.
"Hey, I like ZZ Top." Sybil shrugged. "Anyway...tell me about this guy of yours."
"Huh?" Hope blinked. "Oh, he's a Nossie. Knows his shit, though."
"His name isn't Harold is it?" Sybil asked, smirking with amusement at Grace's discomfort of the Nosferatu's place when they'd met him before.
"Nah. I mean, it could be an alias...but it's not Harold. It's Hugo." Hope said. "Kinda paranoid. Has a cute nose, though."
"I really doubt that..." Sybil said.
"See for yourself when we get there." Hope said. The Brujah proceeded to give Sybil directions at the appropriate intervals to lead them into Beacon Hill. It was nearing midnight as they came up to an alleyway, and it was here that Hope said, "Okay, here it is."
"What? This?" Sybil parked and turned off the engine before stepping out with Hope. "This is an alley in the middle of nowhere."
"To you, yes." Hope said, walking over to a particular dumpster. "To the Nosferatu...no. Watch your feet." She tapped on the metal siding of the dumpster once, twice, three times. If there was a pattern to it, Sybil couldn't tell. As Hope pulled her hand back, Sybil could hear a whirring, mechanical noise as part of the paneling slid aside and revealed the innards of the dumpster.
"What an incredible smell you've discovered!" Sybil winced against the odor.
"Like I said, watch your feet." Hope said, hunching over and hobbling into the dumpster. Sybil's nose wrinkled, but she soon found herself crouching down and following. She gave a reflective gasp as the floor seemed to fall out from under her. She felt the pain shoot through her as she hit the floor, some garbage falling with her and onto a stone floor. "Sorry, should have mentioned that, too."
"You know, you might have!" Sybil snapped at Hope as she got back to her feet on more than wobbly legs. They appeared to be in some kind of... "When the hell did we get to Gotham City?" It did kind of look like the Batcave in a lot of ways. Beyond the small area where the garbage and other refuse from above dropped down, up a set of steps, there were a series of glass cases that held artifacts. As she brushed the trash from off of her shoulders and followed Hope, she saw what was in them. An old bronze dagger was in one, a shard of what looked like green glass in another, and an ornate pendant that looked to be Native American in origin in another. It was as she passed through these cases, working her way up toward what looked to be a series of computer monitors and so much cable she could practically feel an electrician crying that Sybil noticed something. "Hey, Hope?"
"Yeah?" The Brujah asked her companion.
"I'm here, right?" Hope blinked.
". . .what?"
"I'm here, right?" Sybil repeated.
"Uh...yeah, why wouldn't you be?" Hope asked, looking completely lost.
"Then who is that?" Sybil pointed to what appeared to be an exact facsimile of her, down to the very last detail. The double was pointing right back at her, wearing the same expression as she had.
"Hugo! Stop that!" Hope chuckled. The double of Sybil suddenly seemed to shift. Within a blink, the image had changed to show Sybil...smirking, then suddenly start becoming more and more transparent before finally losing all coherence and disappearing from sight. ". . .oh, that's a good one."
"Thank you." The man's voice came from behind them now. He was a Nosferatu, Sybil could tell right away. Unlike many of the kind, however, he wasn't hunched over or bearing a pair of vestigial wings or anything of the sort. Rather, he looked to be roughly humanoid in shape. The only parts of him that stuck out were - of course - the rather bat-like face with his lower jaw jutting out a fair bit more than his upper, covered in mottled, pox-marked skin. A pair of pointed ears seemed to twitch every so often with the movement of his head.
Also, the bat-like noise that looked sunken into his face was definitely not cute, at least to Sybil.
He wore a t-shirt and jeans, the former of which showcased off arms that much followed suite from his head in terms of the content of his flesh. His fingers were a bit longer than one might imagine, the nails...longer than one would expect. Almost resembling talons or claws.
"Welcome to my little slice of the Emerald City." The Nosferatu gave a bow before walking down the steps from the computer terminals to face the two women. "I assume you have a reason for being here?"
"Stopped by. Wanted to see how you were settling in." Hope said, sliding her hands into her pockets. "Still not sure why you have the garbage filter up top."
"Keeps the rats in." Hugo replied with a toothy grin, showing off row after row of jagged teeth. "And intruders out. Mostly. Glad you knew the knock."
"My memory's not that bad." Hope said.
"I'm sorry, could someone explain?" Sybil asked.
"Oh, sorry. Hugo, this is Sybil, my-" Hope started, gesturing toward the Malkavian.
"Your friend, I know." Hugo waved her off. "I assume you're here about the arson cases, then?"
"How do you know that?" Sybil asked.
"You're a member of the Seattle Police Department and were investigating the case." Hugo said. When he saw the incredulous look on Sybil's face, he continued. "Information is my business, Detective Langtry. Nothing stays hidden forever."
"Right..." Sybil raised a brow. Hugo gestured for the two to follow, leading the way back to the computer terminals.
"Mind the cables." Hugo said, gesturing to all the lines that had been laid down that journeyed from computer to computer, crossing one another several times over. "If you're looking for information on the fires, I can point you in the right direction...for a price."
"Two bits." Sybil replied.
"You want a boon?" Hope asked.
"Is a boon being offered?" Hugo asked his fanged teeth threaded together in an amused smirk.
"Potentially." Sybil answered him. "It depends on how good the information is balanced against the need for it."
"Oh, it's good." Hugo reassured. "How badly do you need it?"
"Somewhatly." Sybil said. "It kind of ties in to protecting the Masquerade, which I'm pretty sure is a big thing for you."
"Indeed it is." Hugo said. "Never let it be said I don't do my civic duty." He sat down in a black swivel chair, leaning back and looking ponderously at the ceiling for a few moments. "Minor boon. To be called on at a time of my choosing."
"Yeah, alright." Sybil said.
"A boon has been offered and accepted." Hugo grinned. "You're going to want to talk to Ox."
"Ox?" Sybil asked.
"You mean...Ox?" Hope asked, her eyes widening. "You mean him? With the Anarchs."
"That guy who is the Anarchs, yes." Hugo said. "Pretty sure you know who he is, Hope. Dude thinks he's a regular Nines Rodriguez."
"Now you watch your-" Hope started.
"There aren't any Anarchs in Seattle, though." Sybil interrupted. "This is Camarilla territory." The Nosferatu in the room rolled his eyes, chuckling lightly.
"You have Anarchs all over, even in Camarilla territory." Hugo said. "They just aren't as hefty as, say, in LA., don't see them mounting attacks on the Hollywood sign or blowing up half of the sewer system for funsies."
"What makes you say that Ox is who we need to talk to?" Hope raised a brow.
"Because the bar that burned down was owned by him and, if the pattern holds, one of his other ones is going to be the next one." Hugo said. He typed in a few commands with surprising speed given his fingers, a window popping up to show a map of Seattle, highlighting the sites of the previous arsons. Sybil looked over it, seeing the same moon-shaped line she had drawn out. "Ninety-seven percent probability based on projections."
"Okay. Well, I guess we better go and talk to Ox." Sybil said.
"Just remember our deal, Detective." Hugo said, tapping his temple with one of his lengthy fingers.
"Oh, sure. That's not going to come back to haunt me later in the season." Sybil grimaced.
2:30 AM came by and found the Brujah and the Malkavian rolling up to The Rabbit Hutch.
"Heh. So I guess he stayed out of Mr. McGregor's garden, huh?" Sybil quipped as she and Hope got out of the car.
"What?" Hope asked.
"Never mind. This is the place?" Sybil slipped her hands into the pockets of Harriet as they started toward the bar.
"Yeah, uh...this is kind of a rough place. Let me do the talking." Hope said, opening the door and allowing Sybil through first. The first thing to assault Sybil's senses was Bruce Dickinson's iconic scream from "Number of the Beast". The next was the smell of booze and peanuts. The next was the sight of various patrons going about their business. They seemed to be mostly biker folks, like Brujah considering where they were. Brujah tended to lean more toward the Anarchs from what she remembered.
"Oh, wait!" Sybil had a sudden realization. Hope likely didn't hear her over the music as the taller, lither brunette made her way through the people in the packed bar and headed toward the back, meeting a six foot three man who was built like a linebacker and very pale indeed.
"Need to see Ox." Hope said.
"Password?" The man asked her.
"Get out of my way before I feed you your colon." Hope replied, sounding almost sarcastic as she did so. She and the man stared each other down for a long moment, then both grinned.
"Glad to see working for that fop hasn't dulled your edge, kid." He patted her on the shoulder. "Yeah, c'mon on..." He opened the door for her to enter, his eyes flickering over to Sybil. "What about her?"
"She's with me." Hope said. "She's clean. Honest."
"I even showered yesterday!" Sybil grinned ear to ear.
"Right..." The man looked hesitant, but gestured for Sybil to follow as well. She did so, walking with Hope down a hallway that looked more like offices than the bar before it. The dull thud of the music from the other side of the now closed door was at their backs as Hope led the way to a door marked "Management" along the front. She knocked twice.
"Enter." A masculine voice from within spoke. Hope turned the handle and opened the door into a smaller office where sat a lone man. He was heavier set, lean and muscled. He reminded Sybil of Ben, though this guy was more muscled and less lean as Ben was. More linebacker and less dancer. Not that Ben danced...so far as she knew, anyway.
. . .now she had that mental image in her head, it was hard to keep focus.
Hope, by this point, had already greeted the man and they had begun to talk.
". . .Sybil?" Hope asked, waving a hand in front of her friend's face. "Are you-?"
"Ah! My hovercraft is full of eels!" Sybil suddenly cried out in response as if she'd been startled. Both Hope and the man they'd come to see, Ox apparently, looked surprised. Ox then turned to Hope.
"She's a Malkie, isn't she?" Ox asked her.
"Yeah, but she's good people." Hope said, shrugging.
"She's a Cammie." Ox replied.
"No, my name's Sybil." Sybil said.
"Yes, yes." Hope waved her off, then turned back to Ox. "Anyway, like I said, the Nosferatu said we needed to see you. That you'd know what was going on...and that this bar might be the next target."
". . .shit." Ox sighed. "Alright, c'mon."
"What? Where are we going?" Hope asked as Ox moved toward the door that she and Sybil had entered from.
"If things have gotten that bad, then there's somewhere we need to go." Ox said.
"I don't understand..." Hope said as the trio made their way into the hallway.
"The bar's on fire." Sybil said.
"Yeah, it's doing rather well, but I don't thi-" Hope said.
"No, she means the bar's on fire." Ox pointed and it was then that they both noticed the smoking rising from beneath the door at the end of the hallway.
". . .oh, shit." Hope said. "We gotta help-"
"They'll get out if they can get out." Ox said. "If the flames are right there, there's nothing we can do without cosplaying as piles of ash." He moved further down the hallway to what looked to be a broom closet. After trying to handle, he growled and cocked his leg back before slamming into the door with considerable force, shattering it and stepping through. He snatched up two of the larger splinters of wood, tossing one to each of the women with him. "Take these."
"Why?" Sybil asked, her answer coming when the door from the bar swung open. Out of the smoke came a figure, stepping forward. They were clad from head to toe in bulky, black robes. The boots, belt, gloves, and what appeared to be a mask seemed to be made of the same silvered glass, almost as though she were staring into a flawless mirror of some kind. ". . .sup, Elder Scrolls cosplayer?"
"Get in the hole!" Hope shoved Sybil into the broom closet, where Sybil could see Ox had wrenched open a trap door in the floor.
"Go! Go! Go!" He said, ushering her to hop down into the sewer, which she did so, landing with a wet splash...which oddly was only the second foul-smelling thing she'd dropped into today...she quickly heard a pair of splashes behind her and turned with her stake raised to find...
"It's us!" Hope said. "God, it stinks down here!"
"It is a sewer!" Sybil said.
"Move! They're gonna-!" There was a third splash and they turned to find...nothing. Just ripples in the water. "Stay on guard. If it's just the one, we can..."
Sybil shouted out in surprise as something grabbed her about the stomach and around her throat and pulled her down into the water.
"Sybil!" Hope cried out as she saw Sybil's hand stretch out to her before sinking into the murky, filthy water...
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