KF AU: Dimming of the Lights

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

"How can I know when it's right for us to go?"

Amelia felt the script rustle in her hands. Was she shaking? Every now and then she looked to the impassive audience, wondering why the five of them were really here.

"That's just why I always told you to follow the light."

She had really only used her invitation to the "Rising Artists" scholarship night and fundraiser to pilfer hors d'oeuvres.

"Can you feel the shifting of the tides?"

In fact, her knapsack backstage carried a full assortment of mini quiches, tiny cakes, and finger sandwiches.

"I don't think I can comprehend it!"

On the stage was also her new friend Jun "Trevor" Kato. They related as Glendland non-natives overseas on scholarships, Amelia an Aboriginal Antearctan and Trevor Kohonese. He couldn't have been having any better luck, Glennish not being his first language.

"That's why mother told you not to kiss and tell."

They both felt especially small. This had less to do with being vertically challenged (which they both honestly were) and more with having to read lines from scripts they've never seen before. Amelia was at least used to performing, being a dancer, but Trevor was an entomology major, for goodness sake.

"When the road leads us out to the north I will no longer have to fight for this filthy shell of an existence!"

In fact, he seemed to be doing better than the man with the bottle red hair, who's readings were so leaden they could sink ships. Not much better were the Songese woman, who put strange emphasis on syllables, and the muscular brunette, who liked shouting his lines.

How did they end up here? Trevor began talking to a woman that was considerably shorter than both he and Amelia- which says a lot considering their aforementioned shortness- after he complemented her silver ladybird earrings, being an entomology major and all. Then they started talking about spirits or something. Then those two really pretty ladies came over. The one with a dark complexion (that was not unlike Amelia's) and especially tall peep toe pumps (gosh, her feet must hurt) said something about something to the small woman.

"Do not tempt me."

Then the buxom beauty in the show stopping dress offered to take them somewhere less boring. Of course Trevor and Amelia took the offer.

Amelia sighs as the bottle red slowly finishes in his sleep-inducing monotone. So much for not boring.

"I've had it!" A man in the audience shouts.

Aside from some hushed words, the audience had been mostly silent until this point. In fact, Amelia would've been sure it was just a bunch of mannequins, everyone being so still and unblinking, if it weren't for an especially nervous-looking blonde's fidgeting and a darkly dressed youth's occasional glancing at his smartphone. However, it was nether of those two, but a grey haired man with an especially pointed goatee that had the outburst.

Bottle red abruptly stopped midway through his paragraph. He walked to the center of the stage, his steps measured. Was he going to respond to his heckler?

Whoosh! Down through the trap door he went. Amelia was about to laugh, but then she heard a most unpleasant sound. Was something being torn apart down there?

She looked to Trevor and her other fellow performers to gauge their reactions. Perhaps Trevor was too far away to hear, or maybe he was concentrating just that hard on his lines, because his nose was in his script, his brow furrowed, just as he had been from the beginning. The others, however, showed similar expressions of confusion and worry. Another glance at the audience. The blonde man only looked worse, and darkly dressed was up rigid, his smartphone dropping from his fingers and bouncing off his shoe.

"I thought we weren't doing that," the audience member with the slicked back hair says loudly as he adjusts his cufflink.

Those remaining on stage look to each other, not sure what they should do. That was all just part of the show, right? Then Trevor breaks the silence, starting from where they left off.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Amelia was the next to go after Trevor. Moving with the motions was something she was good at, especially after years of doing political art pieces in public spaces. You go on with the show in spite of the jeers! Well, until people start throwing things.

"What has it all come down to? Turn this car around."

It was, admittedly, easier to be brave while wearing a mask. Amelia didn't think to have that with her. It wouldn't have fit in her bag now, anyway.

"When was the last time you took any risks?"

Uh-oh. Fit brunette was up and he was... Amelia wasn't sure. He wasn't only being too loud now, but overdoing it aggressively with sweeping motions and unnatural voice. It was as if to say, "I'm unafraid of your mind games!"

He finished. Everyone on stage (besides Trevor, still stuck in his script) held their breath.

Nothing.

Following a moment of uncomfortable silence- only perhaps two seconds, but it felt long- the Songese woman cautiously went ahead. Then went the woman with a head of tightly curled bronze ringlets. She was the one that appeared to have the most solid background in acting, although whenever it wasn't her line she looked exasperated. Amelia had heard of some unorthodox methods of scouting and auditioning, so maybe this woman had seen it all?

They were almost done. Just one more line after this, and- What was that? Something soft fluttered out from the trap door, little wings of white gathering until they formed a mass. Slowly the etherial moths danced around curly locks, who didn't seem impressed. (On the other hand, this finally had Trevor's attention.) Something unseen grabbed her from within the swarm. She was only able to shout an utterance of protest before being dragged into the curtains and silenced.

"Now, what was that for?" The man with slicked back hair called out.

"I didn't like her attitude!" Replied a grandiloquent voice that resonated throughout the theater.

"What is going on?!" Shouted the shoutiest shouter, completely fed up at last. He stormed to the front of the stage to face the audience, "Is this some kind of joke? Having a bit of a laugh at us?"

Crash! A profile spot dropped from its fixture, landing behind the high-strung man, who, with gym-toned legs, leapt away from it and right off the stage.

"Impressive," Said a woman in a tight floral pattern dress that wore her dark hair twisted back, her eyes lit with excitement.

"How I miss when we went on holiday," Read Trevor.

Amelia was almost more startled hearing the last line than by the crashing light. Did this mean they were done?

"Excellent indeed!" Said the goateed man as he stood up, the rest of the audience following. They applauded, though most of their expressions were as impassive as when this had all started. "Now begins the second act!" For a split second, those on stage could see audience members' faces alter and become monstrous, right before the lights were cut.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Amelia found herself atop a row of theater seats. It was still dark, but she felt her legs uncomfortably across a wooden armrest. She and the velvet seats were soaked with something that felt thick and clammy on her skin.

There was muffled conversation. Why was it such a strain to hear the words?

Someone looped their arms around Amelia's legs and not too carefully pulled her down from her perch, then proceeded to drag her across the cold floor. Not only did she hear the "shuff, shuff, shuff" of her own body's rough carting, but identical shuffling followed behind.

Initially Amelia assumed the pain came from being dragged against a hard surface, but the more she paid attention, the more she realized everything from skin to bone ached. Joints that could bend even a small amount felt gummy, as if left in the cold for too long. Her lungs were empty.

Pain intensified, animal terror. Embers to a blaze. Eyelids flickered and shut.

__

Amelia was out in front of the Melaleuca Natural History Museum, stepping delicately along the stone wall with arms outstretched. She slowly crouched down, extending her leg out behind. Her right hand was held down against stone for balance as the other reached up to her face with graceful searching fingertips.

It was gone.

Her mask was gone. With it, Amelia had for the last year cultivated a public figure. A cult following cheered her on and spread her message across this multimedia generation. Without it, what was she really saying?

Then, out from her bag tumbled her phone.

Off from the wall Amelia followed, crashed on the concrete, and reached for her shattered smartphone where it lay.

__

An overwhelming scent of iron was invigorating. It was like how Trevor's hands got after using the old garage door handle back home.

If life was coming to an end, Trevor wanted to be awake for it, pain and all, and did not allow himself to be tempted by sleep.

He knew many people through university that would love looking after his collection of arthropods and gastropods. They would take care of them.

Trevor managed with great focus and concentrated effort to feebly move his stomach muscles in a most unnatural way, as if to breath. He was not breathing.

Trevor's parents were already set financially. He didn't think he needed to worry about them.

When moving his right hand finger joints only very slightly they made a ghoulish cracking sound that was surprisingly loud.

Was Amelia nearby? It was all so dark and silent around.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

"Oh, purest Eastern damsel. Winsome as the falling petals of the malus! Do grace me with your company tonight."

Over Claire Jiāng loomed the frame of a man at least forty centimeters (fifteen inches) taller, clad in a full length beaver coat, a bowler hat with tall, ragged feathers. His lengthy arms swept about, his thin, multiple-ringed fingers clinked.

Claire didn't mind the man's height (her brother and father are very tall) nor his eccentricities. On the other hand, the combination of his casual racism and disregard for her personal space was downright menacing, especially with the hall's dim lamps lighting that gaunt face with it's high cheekbones, smile of large teeth, and animated eyes just so.

Why did Veronica have to go on a smoke brake now of all times?

He looped his arm around her shoulders. Claire thought he could have circled her slender frame a second time with it. "Please come with me, Lord Auberon Greyburn, so I may show you a glimpse of what wondrous opportunities my world will open to you!" It wasn't so rare for artsy types to wear fur in spite of animal welfare, though this coat smelled incredibly musty. Claire agreed, mostly out of curiosity, but partially to get out of the odiferous grasp.

"Spendid!" Said Lord Greyburn, clasping his hands.
"However, I'm not a scholarship recipient. I'm here with somebody else that is."
"No matter. You are a Chosen One. I can feel it in my very being."

__

Claire woke, feeling her bare skin against the bitterly cold ashlar stone floor of what was once a dormitory to choir monks. All around her were entrails and fluids that some awful memory told were her own. An autumn rain was coming down relentlessly, and it was impossibly loud for what was a relatively light fall. Water was being blown into this relic of a room through its small arched windows with every other nighttime breeze.

She sat stiffly, listening to every rustle of a mouse, every flap of a bird's wing, wondering how she heard them in such weather, how she was sensing their tiny presences. That was something else to think about, to distract from the worrying notion that the horrible mess around her smelled appealing.

Suddenly, the arched wooden door with iron wrought hinges and handle swung open. Up the night stair at the fore of the dormitory climbed Lord Greyburn, who wore something not unlike a habit, soaked through with rain, his thin brown hair plastered to his scalp. Claire scooted up against the wall, covering her exposed body with legs and arms.

"My daughter! Resurrected by the hand of God. Your life was taken, and in return you are granted His eternal reward!" He called inside, "Come to me!" he said with arms held wide, "Let me embrace you!"

"Dad!" A female voice called from outside. A blonde teen girl in notably less ostentatious slacks, trainers, and sweater came up the stairs. "Our guest would probably like to wash up before that. Don't want to muck up your outfit, right?"
"Oh, I suppose," Lord Greyburn said, looking dejected, "Women do need their time to primp and plume."
"Sure... That's one way of looking at it," Says Claire, "How about it's just us ladies? Until I'm clothed?"

Get dressed now, ask questions later, thought Claire. Once the coast was clear the teenager, who introduced herself as "Ellen", offered her confused new charge a blanket to wrap in. She led her in silence to a more modern accommodation on the abbey. After cleaning up satisfactorily and putting on a lent ensemble complete with slacks, trainers, and sweater, Ellen explained the situation,

"You're probably going to be incredulous at first, but you are now a vampire."
"Right... Vampire."
"That means you'll need to drink human blood to survive. I know this is all fast, but unfortunately there isn't much time to let the information set in."
"You know what? I don't see any other explanation at the moment. I blooming well didn't dream up that all."
"You're taking this surprisingly well."
"It's hard to hyperventilate when I can't breath."
"Even so."

Ellen explained further. She told Claire she would be living with her and their "Father" up on Observatory Hill until she had a reason to convince Lord Greyburn his newest creation needed to be elsewhere, as she had done for her sister before. Worse to Claire, her death would be faked with the help of her post transformation offal, and she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her true father. What with the circumstances, it didn't seem negotiable.

"Until then, I must implore you to be calm as you can around Aubrey Greyburn. I have spent a century and a half as his caretaker, and I know what can happen if someone upsets him."
"I'm assuming that's a 'you don't want to know' kind of situation."

Ellen opened an umbrella and led Claire outside. Aubrey was still getting that hug, it seemed. "Imagine you're about to be spending time with a nervous, violent toddler," she said, "I know that's infantalizing, but that's the closest analogy I can think of. Humor him when you can, and go along with his fancies."

They walked up the stairs to the library where their "father" waited.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

When Amelia came to, her body was wrapped expertly in industrial plastic sheeting. Somebody was lifting her up. Was it that voluptuous woman from before? Although the lights were still out, as she was carried away Amelia thought she could just see the outlines of slumped figures in the theater chairs.

She was brought out into the rainy night through a back door, water droplets collecting quickly and coldly on the plastic. She was loaded into the back seat of a flashy sports car. A man took the passenger seat next to the woman. Their doors were loudly shut and they were soon off.

Amelia tried to keep alert for identifying details. Car make, clothing her abductors were wearing, accessories. She stayed attentive, but the thundering rain on the car roof, splashing puddles under the tires, and insufferable engine were too overwhelming for her to concentrate. As they drove she could see out the window, as nobody thought to blindfold her, but all the car, building, and street lights blurred and unfurled in ways that overwhelmed.

Amelia wanted to close her eyes, but refused to miss any key information that might help. Landmarks, roads they were on. Why was the world so alight, so raucous? It was almost like migraine symptoms without the piercing pain. Or that time she put on her grandmother's glasses.

Apparent respiratory arrest wasn't resulting in death, so maybe this was some altered mental status? Did she have a brain tumor or something? Was that how brain tumors worked?

Earlier, Amelia attempted to speak, but stopped when words refused to form. Fifteen minutes was longer than she usually went without speaking, and so decided to try again.

"What's with the plastic?" She managed to rasp. Woah, did her voice sound weird right now.

"Oh, hey. You're up," Said the driver, who Amelia decided was in fact the woman from before, "That's just to keep the seats
clean. We'll get you out once we're at my place." Whoever was in the passenger seat had nothing to add.

Why'd I even ask?

It wasn't long until the car was parked and the growling engine shut off. Amelia crinkled upright. They were at what looked like a rather nice condo. It had large windows on the top floor. "Welcome to chez Francesca," said the driver.

Francesca (assuming that was the woman's name) began to lift Amelia out. "She might like to walk on her own," said the man Amelia now recognized as the audience member with slicked back hair. Francesca shrugged and cut the plastic along her legs. "There," she said. Amelia didn't see her take out a knife to cut with, but whatever she used was very effective. Was she only trusted enough for her legs to be unbound?

Inside there wasn't anything unusual. A full length mirror, a couch, a dresser, and a whole lot of potted plants filled the room with the big windows attractively. After another careful slash Amelia was unbound, causing her to grasp at her opaque coverings as they began to ravel off. "Go get the girl something to wear," said the man. "Aw, Demy. You're such a killjoy," Said Fran, but then began to fumble through the dresser. "Here. A big T-shirt and drawstring track suit bottoms. Looks good on everyone! Our washroom's that way."

Amelia went in and began cleaning up thoughtfully, but hastened when she realized something. "Wait. Our washroom?" She said popping out from behind the door, still damp from the shower, "What am I even doing here? What happened to Trevor? Those other people?" At least now her voice was less raspy.

Francesca stared blankly in response. "Demy" made an apprehensive face, "Which one was Trevor?"

"My East Nourian friend. He's smart, kind of quiet, and hopefully not dead!"

"Oh, him. He's with the two other women you were speaking with before. You know, the little one and the tall one with the shoes." "Inka and Florence are really nice, so he'll probably be fine," added an indifferent Fran.

"Why is he with them? Why am I here?"

Demetri (or "Demy") explained the situation to Amelia much the same way as Ellen had explained it to Claire. Francesca became bored waiting for him to finish and went into the bedroom. Old school hip-hop base notes boomed from within.

Initially Amelia didn't take a seat when she was offered one, but eventually settled onto the couch as she grasped the situation. "So, those other people are..."

"Yes... Well, we think some of them will turn out okay."

Amelia glared, "So, why?"

"There are vampires that weren't created like we were, that on their own rose from death. This makes them akin to royalty in our society. They're Progenitors: the first of their lines."

"You mean they just died and came back?"

"Essentially."

"Well, how nice for them. What do they have to do with it?"

"These Harlan progenitors that rule over us call themself 'The Circle'. They decided recently we needed to increase our numbers. You and several others have been chosen over a series of games of the progenitors choosing."

"That was supposed to be a game?"

"What happened in the theater was to be the 'finale'."

"Now those people that were there are hurt or worse, and my mob... My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends will believe I'm dead all because of their whim?"

Before Demetri could say anything, Francesca came out from her bedroom. She was now wearing tiny camiknickers and posed against the door frame, "Do you mind sharing the bed?"

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Charles "Chazza" Clarke fancied the older woman. She was fit in that mature kind of way, he thought. Knowing that he himself was one of the most attractive men in the room, believed it was noble that he pursued someone other blokes with his looks would pass up for a younger model.

He approached her, taking his time, noting her dark hair in its pristine updo and how it exposed her elegant neck. Putting on that most suave air perfected with years of practice, Chazza used a line that had worked so many times before. "I'm glad I came after all," he said while looking appreciatively into the woman's eyes. She swooned and began speaking of fate. "Yes! One must step into the night to pursue the heart's desires," she exclaimed, then continued on about the passions of man and woman while getting handsy.

After more one-sided musings from his lady of the night, she led him into an unlit room. Charles thought things were going his way before she put papers into his hands and pushed him through stage curtains.

__

Charles lay on the ground after leaping from the stage. My girlfriend is going kill me, he thought before everything went dark.

__

"Oh for the love of... Vitus, stop him before he hurts himself!" Called the darkly attired brunette. Charles didn't recognize what building he was in now. It was ritzy, sure, but what the bloody hell was happening? He careened down the hall, underdressed, his bare feet leaving dark, wet footprints on the tiles.

Before he could get far, dark wisps took form in his immediate path of that pretty boy blondie. "Now, now," He said as he calmly took his arm. Charles shouted, then realized he had been somehow teleported back to the rooms he starting from before his escape attempt. He struggles easily from Vitus' loose, uncommitted grip. "Where's that woman? Is she here? What did you all do to me?" He panics.

"Please tell me I wasn't this bad," says the brunette.
"Now, Jack. Everyone's experience is different."
"Fuck you, freak!" Charles snaps at Jack, "I just woke up in... I woke up in..." He tears at his hair.
__

Some time would need to pass before Charles had calmed enough to help him settle into his new home. Jack could understand where he was coming from, just recently being in the same position and considering his own escape, but the man made it increasingly difficult to feel sympathy for him.

Jack and Vitus stayed in the lobby until the new member of the Sombreta household finished his shower. The lobby was a tall, gaudy room with furniture in royal shades of ruby and plum, and stone statues of idealized male nudes stood bathed in the glow from fine decorative light fixtures. Jack was stretched on a sofa near the the armchair Vitus would take after making some calls.

Chazza eventually crept out and occupied another armchair much further away. He muttered to himself while Vitus read annotated historic literature and Jack played games on his phone.

Vitus cleared his throat to get the lads' attention once the muttering subsided, "I thought you might be wondering what I was doing on the phone. Well, it's been arranged that I'll lead the newest members of the Circle in a sort of a training session. You can take the opportunity to socialize with your fellow youths. Think of it as something to do to get out of the house."
"Not tonight, though, right?" Asked Jack.
"Indeed, it's tomorrow night. For now, get some rest, you two."

Charles laughed bitterly, "Right. Rest..."

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

SPOILER: Click to show

{Spoiler}"

Charles slept in the clothes Vitus lent him. Luckily the two men were similar in size and build, and although the man's wardrobe was, inexplicably, more than half sportswear he did have some nicer duds in his collection.

Charles was used to finery, being the son of a successful business man, though he never thought of himself as wealthy due to his parents incessant need to compare themselves to anyone wealthier or within their social class. Although he'd go into this world kicking and screaming, his new home, gaudy as it may be, was one thing he could appreciate simply due to the price tag attached.

__

Night fell once more, and Charles rose from what Vitus had called a "death sleep." As a human he was a horribly light sleeper and normally woke to a bed turnt just about upside down, but the sheets and thick blankets he lay under remained tidy- almost untouched.

Jack peeked into his room and reminded him about their itinerary. It turned out Jack himself didn't necessarily have to go since Vitus had previously instructed him on the basics, but was being brought along to lend a hand. Charles moped, knowing he already was weaker than this nerd.

Vitus suggested the younger Sombretas help themselves to some "drinks" from the fridge so they'd have energy for the activities ahead. Charles hesitated, but eventually caved in after watching Jack drink from his own bottle. Once finished, they were led out to a luxury sedan, its black paint glistening under the street lights. Charles slid into the spacious back seats and was happy Jack decided to sit up front. He was still mopey, and the less he had to associate with others at this moment, the better.

"On the way we're going to swing by the Greyburn estate and Helen's to pick up that Darren fellow and... the other new Greyburn. I think her name was Cher," said Vitus.

They reached the abbey and came onto a scene of Ellen and Aubrey arguing over someone wearing a very stiff looking peplum dress and an unusual hat, which she was struggling to remove. She managed to get it partially off and begun detangling her hair from the hatpin that had fixed everything painfully into place. This exposed her face, revealing it was Claire. "Just one moment," said Vitus as he rolled down his window, "We're ready to go," he called.

Although they were parked at a distance, the car passengers' newly enhanced hearing let them easily eavesdrop on the argument ahead. "She can't learn anything wearing this, Dad," said Ellen. Lord Greyburn turnt up his nose and folded his arms across his chest, "Common clothes do not suit one so elegant and maidenly!" He then pulled the hat from Claire's hands and started working it back into place, "Here, allow me to help you..."

After some more back-and-forth in the same vein, Ellen eventually managed to get Claire away. She changed quickly as she could into something more practical and joined the others in the sedan. Aubrey waved "farewell" and dabbed his wet eyes with a large, intricately embroidered cloth that looked like it was taken from a small table.

Thankfully, acquiring Darren was far easier. Helen, a blonde girl in a big, unicorn patterned sweater, came outside to formally meet Claire, her new "niece". "Come stay at my place whenever you can get away. We can have a 'girl's night'," she said before sending them off, merrily wishing everyone a good time.

Darren was a scruffy young man with a sandy mop of hair, variegated blonde stubble on his face, and baggy, punkish attire. "You saved me!" he exclaimed once they had driven a block from Helen's, "You have no idea what I've been through." "I don't think this is really the time for that," said Jack as he turned back to face Claire, who was seated between Chazza and Darren, "What exactly was going on there?"
"Now, now. Don't worry over me. Ellen has done her darnedest keeping my safe from Burny-"
"What's that?"
"Lord Greyburn, rather. Although Ellen told me I shouldn't call him that... Anyhow, he found me out on my own for only a moment before transporting us. It was like how cartoon villains vanish and reappear all sinister like."
"Yeah, Vitus can do that," Said Jack.
"Mmm, right," Mumbled Vitus.
"Someday that ought to come in handy," Said Claire, "Well, because I can't yet materialize places on my own, I was stuck wherever Burny took me. It's dangerous to get him upset, so I went along as with being dragged through a veritable maze of rooms and passages. When he tried removing my clothes-"
"Are you serious?" Charles asked, suddenly turning away from his window, no longer able to feign disinterest.
"That would explain the gown," muttered Vitus.

Now the sedan drove off the main streets and was headed down a long, dark, inconspicuous alley. Darren looked increasingly like an alarmed bird, which could have as much to do with the spooky drive as Claire's story. "That's really fucked up, about the clothes," said Jack. "He didn't do anything else, did he?"
"Actually, I'm pretty sure he just thinks of me as a fashion plate, not something... Well, nothing too bad. Although, as I was about to say, Ellen managed to find us before anything happened past that point, and insisted she stay to help with measurements. Even so, I wasn't caring much about modesty since everyone'd already seen me undressed a few hours previous. It's how brusquely he manhandles me that I find bothersome. I mean, just with the tailoring."
"You seem awfully calm, considering," said Jack, "Weren't you two only just- er- welcomed into the Circle last night?"
"I suppose I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. My father always taught me to have a thick skin, that getting upset during trying situations only makes things worse."
"There is some truth in that," Said Vitus. "On the subject, if any of you need emotional or psychiatric support, do let me know. There are resources available to you."
"What, like a hotline for unholy abominations?" Grumbled Darren.
"Speak for yourself," Charles grumbled back.

At the end of the alley was a small loading dock on the right. Vitus parked near a flashy red auto, the only other vehicle present. Leaning against it were a bored Francesca and an irritable Amelia, who fidgeted with the fabric of her coat pockets. Vitus and Fran exchanged words, but it wasn't long before Fran's engine thundered into the distance and they were back down a single supervisor. "Only one more member to our party, and then we can get started," said Vitus.

Amelia approached the others and gave a small, quick wave like a sort of, "hey, newbies," salute, her lips in a pursed, flat smile. Something was bothering her.

After introductions they waited in relative silence, which was occasionally interrupted by Jack showing them something funny on his smart phone. There were no manmade lights at the loading dock to see by other than touch screens and the heat from the sedan, invisible to mortals, which was dimming as it cooled. Darren was engaged with his own phone, although he wasn't sharing whatever was on it. "Will we also be allowed tech at some point?" Asked Claire.
"Yes, soon," said Vitus. "Everyone has had their phones confiscated for the sake of the Circle their own safety, and will have them replaced soon. We have a number of things still left on the agenda. Charles also hasn't yet had a proper meeting with Angela, our progenitor. Come to think of it, you haven't met yours either," he added for Amelia.
"Well, considering what mine and Darren's is like, I can imagine why," said Claire.
"That sounds ominous," said Amelia. "What happened? Should I be worried?"
"It's a monster that's a gazillion years old that runs the city," said Darren. "So, yeah."
Charles gave a stiff nod in agreement.
"I'll tell you another time," said Claire."
"You won't have to worry yourself too much since you'll be living with Francesca," said Vitus. "We'll also be trying to keep Claire occupied outside the Abbey and Charles and Jack away from the Sombreta estate as much as possible."
"Can Charles even meet Angela without horrible consequences?" asked Jack.




Finally, in drove an intimidatingly sized white SUV. Francesca, the dark skinned beauty with the tall shoes from the night before, with long legs stepped out with ease and grace. Although not wearing anything lavish as the previous cocktail dress, she still looked posh in jewel tones and an entirely different pair of sophisticated pumps.

Cars parked, they came out into a space lit only by a the heatlight
of their cars and a few heavily filtered rays of moon.

Invitation shouldn't be affecting you yet.
This garage is wide open, and if the building was operational, would
probably remain open during business hours. But such isn't the case
now, so are you considered welcome here? And who is judging these
things anyhow? God? Dorein? I don't know...

But you all are welcome here. That, coming from anyone who is
welcome here - vampire or human, counts as invitation. And once
you've been invited just one time, you can use that forever... As far
as I know."

Vitus walked into an open room, more moonlight and dim
amber city light scattering into the empty space.

"So this area would have office stuff in it, but
nobody ever moved in. Nice and open."

Anyhow, some powers make us get hungry fast, so we'll
practice the easier ones first. We'll end by trying out some difficult
stuff, but only half of you guys. Pick a buddy who you do not mind
sharing with. One person will try the harder powers, the other will
volunteer some blood to the first as needed, to make it less terrible.
After everything, we'll go out and you can try practicing mesmerism
on some humans."

Darren-
"I ain't doin' it. The blood thing."


Trevor pressed his main points of contact gently against the face of a wall. It was an
action more expected of a spiritual traveler at a holy site. After a couple moments he
felt the gravity rearranging and the pressure from his nose to his mouth, his chest to
his stomach, and on each of his forearms and knees increased dramatically. His feet
remained on the floor, but they no longer were holding him up.

Trevor pushed himself up with his palms until he was on hands and knees. Paused.
Lifted his feet into a crouching position, his upper body still taking half of his weight.
Paused again. He then allowed his lower half to take the weight and very slowly lifted
himself into an upright crouching stance, followed almost immediately by his feet and
leg muscles lifting his body into a full standing position.

Vitus-
"That doesn't burn up your blood too fast? There's mesmerism, but
we need humans to practice on... Oh, I know. As a vampire, you don't tire
from exertion the way humans do. If you don't push yourself, you can still
do some things a lot longer than a human can, with their shortness of breath.
So... Without pushing yourself, I'd like everyone to jog all the way downstairs
and back. But be sure to not go faster or move powerfully - test your ability
to work within your natural limits. If you try to go too fast or too hard,
it will start to use up your blood. OK?"

Vitus-
He put the book down. "I understand...
Is there something you want to talk about?"

Courtney-
"Mm... The younger vampires, other
than the film crew. Who were they?"

Vitus-
"Why do you want to know?"

Courtney-
"Thinking about something."

Vitus-
"Er, Jack, Darren, that killer guy, the model, er, Teddy?,
and Chloë was last I think, before you guys."

Courtney-
"Hm... And the master vampires?"

Vitus-
"Sombreta, Dragomir, Greyburn, Marchese,
Lepponen. Now I'm curious. What's this about?"

Courtney-
"I'm not sure, but if I remember it right, eliminating all of the masters
and all of the youngest vampires, it leaves nothing but total glamour
plates, like you. Which makes sense. Master vampires choose the
ones they find sexy. But once you went for the large group, you
ended with a mixed bag. Some of us are pretty far from glamorous."

Vitus-
"... What? No. What? You're all lovely."

Courtney-
"Really? All my shapeless clothes and my crungy
white sneaks? My three year old socks with the
hole in the toe and faded unicorns? Big Nick?"

Vitus-
"The Cutter, yeah, that was his name. "

Courtney-
"Lovely?"

Vitus-
"Well, you're lovely."

Courtney-
"The frizzy puffball? The figure like a grocery bag?"

Vitus-
"What? The dress isn't made for you is all. Oh, listen. We aren't supposed
to be judging your appearance, or anyone's. These are new times."

Courtney-
She smiled and cocked her eyes up. Really?
"I missed the memo. What have you heard?"

Vitus-
"Oh, see, since the Revolutionary Cycle, it's all been about progress. The
Aegenian revolutionaries had strong ideas, but in practice they couldn't
realize them. But the Pax Moderne has given license to successive waves
of intellectual movements. Progressive thought, better freedom and equality
for all... Well, er, freedom's probably a sore subject for you at the moment."

Courtney-
"Oh just spit it out."

Vitus-
"Feminism. The world has been stacked against the ladies. Patriarchy has
many of you judging your worth by your appearance. As a way to move
past that, we would do better to judge by, oh, skills and accomplishments.
What was it you do again?"

Courtney-
"Vampire slave."

Vitus-
"Erm, yeah."

Courtney-
"..."

Vitus-
"Well, you look good."

"Godchurch sucks and wouldn't wanna help us anyway, but maybe
we can find out somethin' about somethin', especially if we can get
free enough to run around like Jack does. We probly shouldn't get
too specific right now, but if you could get revenge, take out the
bloodsucking monsters that think they own Harlan, would you do it?"

"OK, but if we're gonna do stuff, I gotta know. You in or out?"

"Cool... Yeah, not like we can just ask 'em either, 'oh, what
are vampire weaknesses y'all?' They'd see right through that
and we'd end up with like, katanas in our hearts or somethin'."

Who wants to learn how to use powers for transformation?"

"Oh yeah, fuck that shit."

Greyburns, I think, might start
out a bit weak in these powers... Maybe I should just try to
give some instruction for everybody at once?"

"Not a lot of enthusiasm, that's fine... Anyway, what you can
become is different from family to family. I've heard some lineages
that only have one animal form, others two, and so on. It usually
seems to be two, and learning is tricky..."...Improvement usually happens at a very inopportune times. Seems
you're most likely to learn how to become a bird only when you fear
you'll die if you do not. Well, at any rate, it's much easier to learn how
to control your fangs and claws. You can probably all work that one
out tonight."

fangs think of hunger. might not have to once you get the hang of it

Vitus-
"Darren, you should at least do it for a moment. You've got to face your fears, or something like that."

Darren-
"Fears? Me? Like, bullshit man. See? And I'm done."

"Well, you can learn to assume the form of your death, but it might be a bit too early, like, emotionally."

Trevor gently closed his eyes. When he reopened them and blinked the pressure caused the ducts to squeak.

Trevor -
"For later, can I ask how I would assume a death form?"

"You should probably get comfortable changing your form in other ways for a while before you get into that, but it isn't too hard."

"Well, Demetri, Fran, Sarah, they can all turn into bats and wolves."

"Greyburns... Well, you might not be able to turn into animals for a very long time. I feel like Helen only learned that within my lifetime and I'm fifty years younger than her. She can turn into an owl, nothing else. Ellen too. I can only turn into a nightjar, Thierry and Florence can become cats. Like housecats."

Just going down until there were rooms to explore was easy enough. Every single floor had rooms. going down the stairwell they had used for the jog. Seemed likely he'd use a path he was familiar with in a strange place.

The moonlight filled the concrete shaft with silvery grains and made the smooth parts of the stone floor glisten like water. The new building smell in here was more greasy and industrial than the vinyl and HVAC impurities of the cubespace. He could hear his voice echo high and low.

On the 13th floor, he shouted and let the door swing shut behind him as he went to descend again, but then - past the noise of his own making - he heard a distant,
Darren-
"What?"

Stepping inside, he saw Darren in a clone of the empty cubespace above, the amber street light more visible in here and the moonlight less. "What's the fuss, dude?"
Darren-
"13th floor. They aren't supposed to exist. Guess these dudes weren't superstitious...

been thinking about getting turned into a monster by soulless creatures of the night or whatever. Thinking about maybe before I end up all evil 'n' shit like them, I should ... do the world a solid. Ya catch my meaning?"
"Didn't get it. Guess I'll have to be more blunt." "I got turned into a monster by soulless yadda yadda, whatever is still human in me wants to put a stop to this. All of this. The progenitors are all fuckin' super hot shit, but ... Y'know. Asses on fire?"Fireproof? That's how vampires get got in the movies, man. Shit. I mean, I know a guy who maybe knows a guy. Weapons. I guess we should know for sure before we do anything, but... Man... Shit. Guess I don't have enough money for weapons anyhow. Wonder if they'd mind if we robbed a bank?" one of those big guns costs like five grand. How much you think el flammenwerfer is gonna set you back?

This is important - if something unexpected comes up and you lose some blood, you're at a greater risk of flipping out and doing something bad the lower you go. Let's keep that from happening, OK?"