Then by accident, I found a door to a world that I could not imagine, where some of my kind kill to live.... and live to kill. I myself, choose not to. I do not need to. However, I must drink blood to survive but the blood that I take is given to me freely, and without regret.

I spend my time searching for the reasons behind why we are what we are..

But that is enough about me.

As the sun sets over the city of Carsel Rock, California, the creatures of the night begin to stir. In the wealthiest communities, in the dirties slums, and in the deepest sewers predatory of eyes open to take in the darkness and the night air. Any citizen will tell you that "Carsel is a dangerous place at night," but there is a danger that is far greater than the muggers and gangs that walk the streets. The creatures of the night that stalk mortals from the shadows aren't after money or jewellery, they want blood. Known as vampires, and as Kindred among themselves, they are the embodiment of the instinctual fear and terror that has haunted humankind from the beginning of time. To make matters worse, there simply isn't enough blood in the city to go around and the nocturnal predators are forced to war with each other in order to secure enough mortal prey for themselves. ...

"Ummm...Fisher?"

"I'm listening, Benjamin."

"This was just found by one of your herd."

Fisher takes the box from his unresisting hands. It is plain, nothing more than a regular cardboard box, but surprisingly heavy. On the lid is scrawled 'Tick Tock Tick Tock'. Glancing back at Ben, she slits the binding tape with a manicured fingernail and lifts off the top.

There is a moment of silence. The room waits as one.

"Where did you find this?"

Benjamin takes the box back as she hands it to him. "In your sleeping chamber."

Pausing for a moment, a look of deep thought on her face, Fisher seems to turn her attention back to the papers on the table. "Four questions I want answered..."

"Yes?"

"Who, why, when and how...."

Banjamin nods and begins to retreat.

"Oh, and I forgot a fifth..."

He turns back as her expression becomes decidedly icy.

"Why is his head not in front of me now on a goddamn fucking silver platter?"

Thinking it wisest to remain silent, Ben leaves in a mighty hurry...

Benjamin puts down the box thankfully and turns to the rest of the Primogen.

"Shit. What now?"

A tall figure with short spiked hair turns to him. "We get someone in to deal with it. We have other things to do."

"Who?"

"I believe the Assamites are best equipped to meet our requests."

Benjamin nods. "Shall I call in some favours then?"

The figure smiles. "No need. There's one already on his way into town....Why don't you send a car?"

A tall, smartly dressed vampire steps out of the limousine and approaches the waiting car. After tapping on the driver's window, he waits as the electronic glass pane whirs downwards. He speaks in a seemingly friendly tone.

"My apologies for this inconvenience, but we've been expecting you. It seems that you have an appointment with the Prince, and we wouldn't want you to be late, would we?"

As the tall, slim Brujah bends over her guitar, methodically replacing a string, she rolls her eyes to herself. When there is no reply she glances up.

Michael remains silent, choosing to ignore her. Sat in a corner, head down, his face is half masked in shadow, but Stella can tell he's still sulking. She sighs.

"Don't get in another one of your fucking moods. It doesn't make you cool and interesting. It makes you a damn pain in the ass."

He tilts his head, tracing an invisible pattern on the wall. "You and your stupid band. I don't know why you bother."

Stella turns her back to him. "It's just something I have to do. I promised. And you're coming with me." She goes back to her job after muttering "Damn Xavier. I'm gonna kill him."

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to." Standing and slinging her guitar on to her back, she picks up her car keys. "Come on Mikey, it'll be fun!!!"

"Yeah, about as fun as a hole in the head..."

"That can be arranged. Now come on. I'm meant to be meeting Ronin too. On order of Fisher. Do you really wanna make me late for that?"

Muttering under his breath, Michael climbs to his feet and follows her out the door, closing it behind him.

"Their numbers grow and ours dwindle. They kill us, yet we do nothing in return."

A strong authoratitive voice cuts in. "There is no proof to say that what we are dealing with is vampires."

A new voice comes from the shadows beyond the reach of the firelight. "You mean the Hunters?"

The reply comes back. "It would make sense."

"Then I will go and find out if it is true."

Another voice argues. "We do not belong in the city."

"Nevertheless, it is the only way that this will be resolved."

One of the figures stands up and leaves the fireside. As he walks into the darkness he hears a voice behind him.

"Take care."

He mutters to himself "Where have I seen...?"

Quickly, he snatches up the newspaper lying beside him and opens it. He scans the page, finds what he is looking for. Looks back at the book. Looks back at the newspaper. A look of horrified realisation crosses his face.

"Holy shit."

He gently closes the book and slips it into a large backpack, zipping it tightly.

With one last look at the newspaper, he drops it and runs out.