VTM: Drink

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My heart thuds. It's like a drum, beating in my ears. I swallow a glass of wine in a heaving gulp as the world falls to pieces around me. In my mind, all I want to do is run away. [img[images/arrow.png][intro 2]]

<<character 'alex' 'images/alex.png'>> <<character 'quinn' 'images/quinn.png'>> <<character 'murray' 'images/murray.png'>> <<character 'text' 'images/text.png'>> <<character 'natalie' 'images/natalie.png'>> <<character 'officer' 'images/officer.png'>> <<character 'owen' 'images/owen.png'>> <<character 'voice' 'images/voice.png'>> <<character 'prince' 'images/prince.png'>> <<character 'beth' 'images/beth.png'>> <<character 'drummer' 'images/drummer.png'>> <<character 'bassist' 'images/bassist.png'>> <<character 'manager' 'images/manager.png'>> <<character 'solomon' 'images/solomon.png'>> <<character 'clerk' 'images/costumegirl.png'>>

<div class="vtmlogo">[img[images/logo_vampire.png][twoyears]]</div> <div class="credits"><p class="credits">by Ben Wolf (<a href="https://twitter.com/chainsawmcd">@chainsawmcd</a>)</p></div> <div class="credits"><p class="twoyears">[[START|twoyears]]</p></div> <img id="dplogo" src="images/darkpack_logosmall.png"> <div class="credits"><p class="credits">“This game was created as a part of Vampire: The Masquerade game jam. Events portrayed in this game are not canon within World of Darkness universe”.</p></div> <div class="credits"><p class="twoyears">[[Credits|credits]]</p></div>

<<alex>>What is the fucking point of Detroit?<</alex>> I lean against a wood bar and sip rye on the rocks. It's my third but probably not my last. [img[images/arrow.png][part1-2]]

Murray parks outside a hundred year old Neo-Gothic cathedral with spires and a stained glass rose window. It's old and imposing like the city itself. DPD squad cars and yellow crime scene tape circle the block. We collect ourselves in the car for a moment. [img[images/arrow.png][part1a-2]]

I hate this feeling. The tension in my shoulders. The shortness of my breath. My body is telling me that this is one of those conversations that's about to change the course of my entire life. [img[images/arrow.png][intro 3]]

I look across the balcony to my wife, Quinn, as she wipes the tears from her eyes. The ash on her cigarette is long and unattended. It's been one of those nights. [img[images/arrow.png][intro 4]]

We've been together so long - loved one another so encompassingly - that I can't picture my life without her. She's everything. But right now we can't even make eye contact. I have this terrible feeling in my gut that the end is nigh. She looks at me, her voice trembling - [img[images/arrow.png][intro 5]]

<<quinn>>Do you remember what we said about this? There was a whole conversation.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 6]]

<<alex>>Yeah. We said it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Like winning the lottery.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 7]]

<<quinn>>And that's what they're offering me. This is the winning ticket. Why can't you see that?<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 8]]

I pour another glass and immediately swallow it. <<alex>>No. That's what they're offering //you.// You alone. It was supposed to be for us - and if we couldn't do it together, we wouldn't do it at all.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 9]]

<<quinn>>Do you have any idea how few people they welcome into the fold? //This is a one in a million opportunity.// How can you stand between me and eternity?<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 10]]

She wipes tears from her cheeks. I know her well enough to tell that she's crying because her mind is made up. <<quinn>>I'm sorry.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 11]]

I refill my glass from the half-empty bottle. I can see it in her eyes. This relationship is over. She's already mourning who we used to be. Six years of marriage reduced to nothing over the course of a six minute conversation. All that's left is the paperwork. [img[images/arrow.png][intro 12]]

I swallow the wine - not even trying to taste it. I'd take it intravenously if I could. Put it in a bullet and I'd shoot it into my brain without hesitation - just to feel different. I make one last desperate play to save our future... [["I'll hate you forever."|intro 13]] [["I never loved you."|intro 13]] [["I won't survive with you."|intro 13]]

<<quinn>>I don't believe you.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][intro 14]]

I can't breathe as she walks over and kisses me for the last time. I hold her wrist until she pulls away. Before she can pick up her coat and shut the door behind her I lift the bottle and drink until it's empty. [img[images/arrow.png][title]]

I'm at Doyle's Pub around midnight. It's a cop bar which, in my experience, are all the same. Brick walls, sports on the TV and a vaguely Irish sensibility. My partner Murray stands beside me, shaking his head. He's a pot-bellied, walking mustache - the kind of guy that was born to a be a cop. <<murray>>Hell if I know.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-3]]

<<alex>>I'm serious. Anything that wasn't abandoned was broken down, burnt up or collapsed years ago. Empty lots. Drugs. Homeless. Garbage every fucking place you can put it. This town is the prologue to the apocalypse.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-4]]

<<murray>>Damn shame, too. Used to be one of the most important cities in America. Now we got the third-highest murder rate in the country, a Police Department that's understaffed... Every problem under the sun.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-5]]

<<alex>>Makes you pessimistic. And the only thing that makes it better...<</alex>> I pick up my drink and rattle the ice in my glass. <<alex>>...is this right here, partner.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-6]]

The booze washes over me in a wave and it all catches up at once. I let that familiar numb feeling drown out the loneliness, the anger, the bitter pointlessness of it all. <<alex>>We live atop a pile of shit, Murray. And you and I? We aren't even the shit-shovelers, we're the motherfucking shovels. Up to our goddamn faces in it.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-7]]

Murray laughs bitterly as I get a text from dispatch. <<text>><<type 40ms>>Homicide at Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament. Uniforms and CSI on scene.<</type>><</text>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-8]]

<<alex>>Speak of the devil.<</alex>> <<murray>>Another case? It's not our turn yet, is it?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-9]]

<<alex>>There was a double this afternoon so we're up.<</alex>> <<murray>>Shit, I wouldn't be drinking like this if I'd known.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1-10]]

I smirk and finish my drink. <<alex>>I would.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1a]]

<<murray>>I never worked a murder at a church before. You gotta be a cold fucker to kill someone in front of God himself.<</murray>> [[You still believe that Sunday School shit?->believe]] [[You gotta be a cold fucker to kill somebody period.->cold fucker]]

<<murray>>Gotta believe in something these days.<</murray>> <<alex>>Really? I don't.<</alex>> <<murray>>Nihilism's a bad look, kid.<</murray>> <<alex>>Then stop looking.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1a-3]]

I pour whiskey from my hip flask into a Styrofoam coffee cup and fit the lid on top. Murray knits his brow, watching me. <<murray>>You good to go on this, partner?<</murray>> [["Do I look ready?"->ready]] [["Don't worry about it."->part1a-4]]

<<alex>>You gotta be a cold fucker to kill somebody period.<</alex>> <<murray>>You don't think the religious setting changes anything?<</murray>> <<alex>>Just the music the perp was listening to when they did it.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1a-3]]

Murray shrugs as we step out of the car. We duck beneath the yellow tape line passing a uniformed officer on our way inside. <<murray>>You want to talk with this guy before we get started?<</murray>> [[Nah, let's just go inside.->inside]] [[Sure, let's talk to the cop.->talktocop]]

Once inside, the sight that greets us is unlike any I've ever seen before. It's hideous. The body of a man in priestly vestments is strapped to the crucifix above the altar, arms outstretched, robes softly swaying in the cathedral draft. [img[images/arrow.png][inside-2]]

<<alex>>What's going on, Officer?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][talktohim-2]]

<<officer>>It's creepy stuff, Detective. You got a real spook show in there.<</officer>> <<murray>>You responded to the 911 call?<</murray>> <<officer>>That's right. Never seen anything like it.<</officer>> <<alex>>Got any leads for us?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][talktohim-3]]

<<officer>>Sure. Put out an APB for an altar boy with a stretched asshole and plastic fangs.<</officer>> Murray and I share a look of confusion. The Officer laughs as he opens the door and ushers us inside. [img[images/arrow.png][inside]]

The victim's an elderly man. His head is tilted lifelessly onto one shoulder, eyes fixed open, skin ashen and gray. It's like he's watching us as we walk down the aisle to meet up with the CSI tech. <<murray>>Ho-ly shit. They left him on display. Who the fuck does that?<</murray>> [[Someone who wants to make a statement.->inside-3]] [[Someone who knows they won't get caught.->inside-3]] [[Someone who isn't scared of cops like us.->inside-3]]

Approaching the altar, I notice a crunching sound. At my feet is a trail of grit leading from the front doors to the corpse. I pick up a pinch and roll it between my fingers. It almost looks like sand. Natalie, the CSI tech, stands atop a ladder set up beside the body, inspecting the corpse. [img[images/arrow.png][inside-4a]]

<<natalie>>The priest was exsanguinated. There's hardly a drop of blood in his whole body.<</natalie>> [img[images/arrow.png][causeofdeath-2]]

<<alex>>Who is he?<</alex>> <<natalie>>What am I? A detective? I saw someone crying in the church office. Check with them.<</natalie>> Murray and I take the lady's advice. [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-3]]

<<alex>>...what's up with this sandy stuff?<</alex>> <<natalie>>No idea. We've taken some samples but it'll be a while before the lab gets back to us with results.<</natalie>> [img[images/arrow.png][inside-4a]]

Murray frowns. <<murray>>So where is it?<</murray>> <<alex>>And how'd they get it out of him?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][causeofdeath-3]]

<<natalie>>You're gonna love this... Two little holes in his jugular.<</natalie>> Murray and I exchange a confused look. [img[images/arrow.png][causeofdeath-4]]

<<murray>>You're shittin me.<</murray>> <<natalie>>Not this time.<</natalie>> [img[images/arrow.png][inside-4a]]

In a back office we find a slight young man with red, puffy eyes and a dazed look on his face. I knock on the door and let myself in. <<alex>>I'm Detective Barker, Detroit Homicide. This is my partner Detective Wayne. Were you the one who called 911?<</alex>> The young man nods without making eye contact. <<alex>>What's your name?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-4]]

<<owen>>Owen King. I'm the church secretary.<</owen>> <<murray>>What were you doing here so late?<</murray>> <<owen>>I lock the doors after the late night mass.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-5]]

<<alex>>There was a service tonight?<</alex>> <<owen>>Father Charles always says the night mass.<</owen>> <<alex>>And that's the name of the deceased? Father Charles?<</alex>> Owen nods sadly, his face breaking into sobs. [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-6]] <<set $whoattended to false>> <<set $whosee to false>> <<set $whoenemie to false>> <<set $whosalt to false>>

[[These late night masses... are they well attended?|attended]] [[You see anyone strange tonight?|seeanyone]] [[Has Father Charles got any enemies you know of?|anyenemies]] [[You know why there's sand in the church?|saltinchurch]] [[Maybe we'll talk again later|whoishe-7]]

<<owen>>No. Sometimes no one comes at all.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-6]]

<<owen>>Nobody. Just a handful of regulars.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-6]]

<<owen>>Nobody. He's the nicest man I ever knew.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-6]]

<<owen>>Sand?<</owen>> Owen shakes his head as his eyes fill with tears. [img[images/arrow.png][whoishe-6]]

<<murray>>I'm well aware of how ridiculous this sounds but... you know what this looks like, right?<</murray>> [[Vampires.|inside-6a]] [[I don't say anything, just play dumb.|inside-6]]

Murray and I leave Owen to collect himself as we walk back into the church. [img[images/arrow.png][inside-4a]]

<<murray>>//Vampires.// Some lunatic is running around thinking he's a fucking //VAMPIRE!// Like you and I don't got enough problems.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][inside-7]]

A tingle at the back of my mind turns to an itch that even a quick sip from the coffee cup can't scratch. While Murray and Natalie joke about Dracula and The Count from Sesame Street their voices fade away into a low drone in the background. I got a pretty good idea who's behind this. Well... not who exactly. //What.// [img[images/arrow.png][inside-8]]

I take out my phone and scroll through text messages between Quinn and I. They're not exactly my proudest moments. Every week or two, in a moment of weakness I've sent a, "How r u?" or "Miss u..." None of them have responses. Not what you want to see in a conversation with your dead wife. [img[images/arrow.png][inside-9]]

I take a quick picture of the crime scene and send it. <<text>><<type 40ms>>troubles brewing for your new friends<</type>><</text>> [img[images/arrow.png][inside-10]]

Quinn hasn't spoken to me since that night two years ago. The night she ended us. I faked her death. I lied to her family. I buried an empty coffin. I gave her the clean break from the living world that she wanted. And she doesn't even have the common courtesy to respond. Until tonight. [img[images/arrow.png][inside-11]]

I receive an immediate reply: <<text>><<type 40ms>>"I'll pass that along."<</type>><</text>> I can't help myself. I immediately text her back... [["how r u?"->inside12]] [["i miss u"->inside12]] [["come back"->inside12]]

I stare at my phone, waiting, hoping, praying for a some sort of response. It never comes. [img[images/arrow.png][part2]]

<<alex>>Hey Natalie...<</alex>> [[...what's the cause of death?|causeofdeath]] [[...who is he?|whoishe]] [[...what's up with this sandy stuff?|sandystuff]] [[...I've seen enough|inside-5]]

An hour later, Murray and I are outside watching the coroners cart Father Chuck's body away when I get a call from an UNKNOWN NUMBER. I step into a private alcove and answer. [img[images/arrow.png][part2-2]]

<<alex>>Hello?<</alex>> <<voice>>Is this Detective Alex Barker?<</voice>> [[Who's asking?|part2-2a]] [[Speaking.|part2-3]]

<<voice>>You know who this is.<</voice>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-3]]

<<voice>>Your presence has been requested at the Detroit Salt Corporation.<</voice>> <<alex>>Salt corporation?<</alex>> <<voice>>Yes. Salt. You're expected imminently.<</voice>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-4]]

<<alex>>Hang on, I'm working a crime scene here, I can't just leave. What am I supposed to say to-<</alex>> CLICK. <<alex>>Hello? HELLO?!<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-5]]

I rejoin Murray at the front door and watch the meat wagon disappear down the street. <<alex>>You got a handle on this? I gotta run.<</alex>> Murray gives me a look. <<murray>>We're on the job, where are you going?<</murray>> [[I'm not feeling well.|part2-6]] [[This case is too creepy for me.|part2-6a]]

<<alex>>I'm... not feeling so well.<</alex>> Murray sighs. He doesn't want to say what comes next. <<murray>>You're hitting the sauce too hard, man. Any idiot can see that. I like to party as much as the next guy but it can't interfere with the work. I need you to pull it together. Understood?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-7]]

I decide not to argue with him. <<alex>>You got me. I'm sorry, partner.<</alex>> <<murray>>I know you've had a rough go of it these past few years so I'll cover for you. But we're not making this a habit. It's been two years now. You gotta snap out of it and get your head straight. Understood?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-8]]

I nod seriously. He's not wrong. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a]]

The Uber driver drops me off at an industrial lot just south of Dearborn. The expanse of the Detroit Salt Corporation lies before me. I wander into a decrepit warehouse looking for signs of life... or otherwise. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-2]]

Noticing a light coming from an industrial elevator, I shuffle through the darkness. Inside, I find a button marked with a blank post-it note. I press it. The elevator descends. I can't tell if the sweat on my brow is from the whiskey or the way that my heart is inching up my throat as I'm slowly swallowed by the Earth. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-3]]

After what seems like forever, the elevator finally stops. I slide the gate aside and step into an enormous white cavern carved into the rock salt. Torchlight flickers against the walls, emanating from a circle of shadowy figures about a hundred yards in front of me. Vampires. The sight brings up a lot of dark feelings. Anger. Regret. The bitterness of rejection. But mostly anger. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-4]]

There's a word for a group like this but I don't remember it - these freaks have all sorts of in-group vocabulary but it's all Greek to me. I just know that these monsters are the monsters in charge. There are others, too. Living among us. Hiding in shadows. Walking the streets and owning businesses and carrying on like human-fucking-beings. But they're not. They're abominations. And the mess at the church is their problem. Not mine. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-5]]

Hearing my approaching footsteps, they turn to face me and that's when I see Quinn. I didn't expect to see her and, for a moment, it takes my breath away. She looks pale. No, not pale. //Wan// is the word. Lifeless. Like a statue or a doll. And she won't meet my eyes. Still... For just a moment... I'm glad to be here. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-6]]

Their Prince steps forward and greets me with a bow. I don't reciprocate. That's what they call him, by the way. "Prince." I swear to fucking god. <<prince>>Detective. Thank you for joining us.<</prince>> <<alex>>Didn't sound like I had a choice in the matter.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-7a]]

<<prince>>I regret the unfortunate reason for meeting. It seems we have a situation on our hands.<</prince>> I can't help myself from scoffing right in his pompous face. Maybe it's the booze. <<alex>>No, it seems like //you// have a situation on //your// hands.<</alex>> [[tell them everything|everything]] [[tell them nothing|nothing]]

<<alex>>I got a dead priest left hanging from the ceiling at one of the biggest churches in the city. No witnesses, no leads, no blood. That's going to be all over the local news by morning. I know you're all busy dusting your harpsichords and arranging your candelabra but if you want to maintain that low profile you hold so dear then I expect this situation to be taken care of in house - by //your// people. Otherwise, I'm going to have to start sharpening stakes cause I'm looking at a cave full of suspects.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-8]]

<<alex>>I only contacted you to give a heads up. Your people need to clean up this situation. I expect you to take care of things in house. Now.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-8]]

<<solomon>>I think we've heard enough out of you...<</solomon>> The other vampires cackle to themselves. The Prince smirks. I've only met his royal highness once before and it didn't go well. Two years ago, Quinn and I applied for "membership" to their little club. Solomon recommended us after we met him at an art exhibition. A chance meeting that changed everything. He told us we were just what the "elders" were looking for in a "childe." Fucking weirdo. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-9]]

The Prince is the one who decided I wasn't cool enough to sit at their table. Or maybe that I was more useful where I was. I don't know. It's hard to get a read on him. They took Quinn. Not me. It's a hard thing to get over. <<prince>>The situation will be handled "in house," as you say. And swiftly. As a matter of fact, the wheels are already in motion.<</prince>> [[You've got a suspect?|suspect]] [[Then I'll be going.|going]]

The Prince smiles to himself. <<prince>>No. We have a partner. For you.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-10]]

I turn to leave but I hear his voice booming off of the walls before I take my first step. <<prince>>Not so fast. We'd like you to meet someone.<</prince>> <<alex>>I've got enough friends, your highness.<</alex>> <<prince>>She isn't a friend. She's your new partner.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-10]]

<<alex>>Excuse me?<</alex>> <<prince>>Frankly, the photo suggests a disgraceful breach of the Masquerade - something that //our// kind can be reasonably expected to avoid. I think it's only fair that the living and the dead work this case together until we can be certain.<</prince>> <<alex>>You think a human did this?<</alex>> <<prince>>Precisely, Detective. //Your// jurisdiction. We expect this case to be your top priority and we want it supervised by one of our specialists.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-11]]

<<alex>>If you want me working this case then I do it alone. Because //I'm// the fucking specialist.<</alex>> <<prince>>Ah... But there is a question about your motivations.<</prince>> The Prince looks over his shoulder at Quinn. <<quinn>>...<</quinn>> <<prince>>I'd understand if you were bitter. And we'd hate to think that you didn't have our best interests at heart. Agreed?<</prince>> [[I'm not working with anyone.|part2a-12]] [[I guess I have no choice|part2a-12a]]

<<alex>>Who the fuck are you to order me around?<</alex>> <<solomon>>Shut your mouth, morsel.<</solomon>> The Prince raises a hand, silencing Solomon. Then he takes a menacing step in my direction and lowers his voice. His eyes burn through me. <<prince>>I am the Prince of Detroit and I will not be questioned. The matter isn't up for debate. You will work the case with my associate or we will end your life.<</prince>> Suddenly, //miraculously,// my mind is changed. [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-13]]

The Prince turns and extends his arm to a woman in a smart dress. She looks like a business executive. High-class. Well-mannered. Uptown. She gives me the slightest nod of the head. <<beth>>...<</beth>> <<prince>>This is Beth. I expect you'll get along famously.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-14]]

<<beth>>Good evening, Detective Barker. I look forward to working with you.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3]]

The following evening I'm sitting at a booth in an all-night diner across from my new partner. Beth and I have hardly spoken but I've learned a great deal about her already. She's poised. Confident. Patient. Her most striking feature is her eyes. They have a brightness and intelligence that not even death could dim. [img[images/arrow.png][part3-2]]

Beth smiles coolly at me as I sip whiskey-spiked coffee and pick at a side of bacon. After meeting in the salt mine she escorted me back up to the surface and led me to an indistinct luxury car. She drove me home, told me to "sleep it off" and said we could "get to know one another" and "go over our case" the next night. A few hours ago, just after dusk, she pulled up outside my place and gave me a call. To be clear: I want nothing to do with this, nothing to do with her, nothing to do with any of it. [img[images/arrow.png][part3-3]]

She finally breaks the silence... <<beth>>Have you been a police officer a long time?<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-4]]

<<alex>>A little over a decade. You been a... an investigator long?<</alex>> <<beth>>I've been helping the Camarilla in this capacity for over 150 years.<</beth>> <<alex>>...what's a Camarilla?<</alex>> <<beth>>The ones you spoke with underground. We are a sect. We operate much like a city government. <</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-5]]

<<alex>>That's the government, huh? And what's your role?<</alex>> <<beth>>I am the Sheriff of Detroit.<</beth>> <<alex>>You get to carry a six-shooter?<</alex>> Beth smiles inwardly as though I've said something she's trying not to laugh at. <<beth>>No need.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-6]]

<<beth>>Should we get down to brass tacks? I was hoping we could dive into some of the details.<</beth>> I bring up the crime scene picture on my phone and set it on the table in front of her. <<alex>>Here. There's not much more to it.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-7]]

<<beth>>There's an awful lot to this photo, though. Seemingly random victims are rarely random. The body was left on public display, likely to invoke press involvement. It's a provocative choice of victim, too. Taboo. Clinical methodology implies familiarity -<</beth>> <<alex>>Familiarity! Too bad we don't know anyone that's familiar with removing blood from people, huh?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-8]]

Beth folds her hands on the table and gives me a withering smile. <<beth>>Do you not like me in particular or is it everybody?<</beth>> <<alex>>I work homicide. I don't like murderers.<</alex>> <<beth>>You mean vampires?<</beth>> <<alex>>No. I //hate// vampires.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-9]]

<<beth>>And how are we going to work our way past that?<</beth>> <<alex>>We're not. I'm going to find the vampire I'm looking for and then I'm going to tear its fucking head off. You can watch me do it if you like.<</alex>> <<beth>>I can be a big help to you.<</beth>> <<alex>>You can go back to your coffin and bury yourself for all I care.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-10]]

<<beth>>You know what else you missed in that photo?<</beth>> <<alex>>I didn't miss anything in that photo.<</alex>> <<beth>>Whoever did this is going to do it again. Or already has.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-11]]

My phone buzzes on the table between us. A call from Murray. I pick up. <<alex>>Hey, partner. What's up?<</alex>> <<murray>>I don't give a shit how you feel, you gotta meet me downtown right now. We got another body on our hands, more of that kooky vampire shit. But you gotta see this one to believe it.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3-12]]

I wonder if Beth can hear what Murray's saying from across the table. The smug smile on her face suggests she can. [img[images/arrow.png][part3a]]

The address Murray gives me is for an apartment building in the heart of downtown. Beth parks on the street and we walk into a place you might charitably describe as a "starter studio." In other words: a dump. The uniformed officers in the hall give Beth second and third looks as they point us to the crime scene. [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-2]]

We walk past them into an apartment unit that looks like a rock-n-roll pig sty. Band posters cover the walls, dirty dishes and laundry cover everything else. In one corner is a thousand dollar record player and amp setup. In the other corner is a hundred dollar TV. Murray stands against the wall scratching his head and staring at a corpse lying in the middle of the floor in utter befuddlement. [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-3]]

Now, I've seen some crazy shit in my time but this one beats them all. The departed is some punk-rock-looking kid, lying on his back with the murder weapon still sicking out of his chest. And all I can think to say is - <<alex>>A stake to the heart? You gotta be fucking kidding me.<</alex>> <<murray>>Do I look like a comedian?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-4]]

Murray finally notices Beth. <<murray>>Hey Alex, aren't you gonna introduce me to your... friend.<</murray>> Before I can open my mouth, Beth takes over. She pulls a wallet from her jacket pocket and flips it to a very official-looking I.D. <<beth>>Beth Harker, F.B.I.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-5]]

<<murray>>The feds are already on this?<</murray>> <<beth>>As I explained to your partner on the way up, the Bureau maintains a unit to assist on cases related to paranormal phenomena.<</beth>> Beth's eyes bore a hole through Murray just like the Prince's burned through me in the salt mine. I can almost see her changing Murray's mind about this ridiculous cover story. [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-6]]

Sure enough, Murray starts nodding along like her bullshit makes total sense. <<murray>>Riiiight... Yeah. I think I saw a T.V. show about that.<</murray>> <<beth>>Maybe you can bring us up to speed, Detective?<</beth>> <<murray>>Sure, sure...<</murray>> He gestures to the corpse. <<murray>> You're lookin' at Remy Del Rio, local rock star and line cook. When he didn't show up for his shift at the Waffle Hut his manager called 911 for a wellness check. I think you'll agree: he is decidedly unwell.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-7]] <<set $aptcod to false>> <<set $aptrocker to false>> <<set $aptwaffle to false>>

[[Cause of death?|aptcod]] [[You said he's a rocker?|aptrocker]] [[Tell me about the Waffle Hut?|aptwaffle]] [[I think I've seen enough...|part3a-8]]

<<murray>>You serious? Dude's a got a stake in his fucking heart.<</murray>> <<alex>>...<</alex>> <<murray>>And by the way, there's no blood in this guy's body either.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-7]]

<<murray>>Lead singer for a band called The Dead Petals. Goth rock. I thought that shit went out of fashion in the 90s. Maybe that's why I never heard of them.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-7]]

<<murray>>Get this: he worked the night shift. Exclusively. You know? Like a...<</murray>> <<alex>>...a night owl. Sure.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-7]]

<<murray>>So to sum this night up... We've got a dead priest with no blood and a goth with a stake through his heart.<</murray>> Murray runs a hand through his thinning hair, chuckling. He looks at Beth. <<murray>>You know what this sounds like, right? Like he's a... a...<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-9]]

<<beth>>A vampire.<</beth>> <<murray>>Bingo.<</murray>> <<alex>>So who's the Van Helsing in this scenario? You don't think the guy staked himself, do you?<</alex>> <<murray>>No way. Agent Harker? You're the expert. Got any ideas?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-10]]

Beth kneels beside the body and takes a closer look. She lifts Remy's top lip and checks his teeth then dips the point of her pen in his blood and smells it. Murray raises his eyebrows at me. I can tell that he's impressed. Satisfied, Beth stands. [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-11]]

<<beth>>Well, he's definitely not a vampire.<</beth>> <<murray>>How do you know?<</murray>> <<beth>>Because vampires are fictional. More importantly, he's not the "vampire" responsible for the priest's murder. We'll need an M.E. to give us an official time of death but this young man expired at least a couple of days ago, before Father Charles was killed.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part3a-12]]

I'm annoyed by Beth's assessment but I guess a bloodsucker like her must know a lot about corpse decay. I can tell how long uncooked chicken has been in the fridge by giving it a whiff, after all. Taking a closer look at the room, I notice a crunching sound beneath my shoes. I lean down and realize that there's grit on the floor. I pick up a pinch of it and roll it through my fingers. More sand. Just like at the church. [img[images/arrow.png][part4]]

Back in Beth's car, she turns on the GPS and asks - <<beth>>What do you want to look at first?<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][themap]]

As we pull up outside, Owen spots us from the doors. We caught him closing up for the night. <<owen>>Detective. Is there an update on Father Charles' case?<</owen>> <<alex>>We're working on one. This is my colleague Beth. She and I had a couple follow up questions for you.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

I search 'The Dead Petals' on social media and find out they're holding a memorial concert for Remy at a dive bar across town. We show up just as the show is winding down. It's hard to tell if the crowd is in mourning or just goth. After the final encore, Beth and I head backstage and flash our badges at the drummer and bassist. [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

The Waffle Hut is an all night diner. We get there just in time for their rush hour after the bar down the street closes. The booths are full of drunks. I know the type. Our badges bring the manager out from the back. [img[images/arrow.png][4waffle-2]]

[[Anything unusual happen in the days leading up to the murder?|4church-unusual]] [[Show him the dead singer's picture.|4church-deadsinger]] [[Were you and Father Charles on good terms?|4church-goodterms]] [[When was the last time you saw the deceased?|4church-lasttime]] [[Where were you at the time of the murder?|4church-where]] [[Thanks for your time.|4church-thanks]]

<<owen>>No. Nothing too unusual. We get a few street people from time to time but no one disruptive.<</owen>> <<alex>>Anyone of note? Someone that only comes at night?<</alex>> <<owen>>There's one girl. Purple hair. Purple coat. I don't know her name though.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

<<alex>>You ever seen this guy before?<</alex>> <<owen>>No, sorry. He doesn't look familiar.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

<<owen>>Better than good. He was almost like a father to me. I grew up under... difficult circumstances. Father Charles was the kindest man I ever knew.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

<<owen>>After communion I left to handle some church business in the office. He was nearly done with the mass at that point.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

<<owen>>The church office. I was on a phone call with our groundskeeper. I'd be happy to get you their number if you'd like to corroborate.<</owen>> Beth and I exchange a look. I don't like to rule anyone out too easily but Beth seems to have a pretty good read on the guy. <<beth>>That won't be necessary.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][4church-2]]

<<owen>>Of course. If there's anything I can do to help, I'm at your service.<</owen>> [img[images/arrow.png][themap]]

[[Let's take a closer look at the church.|4church]] [[Let's track down the band.|4band]] [[I want to check out the Waffle Hut.|4waffle]] [[We get a phone call from the Detroit Police Dapartment's Crime Lab|4call]]

[[This might sound strange but... Did you ever see your friend in the daylight?|4band-daylight]] [[Have you got a fan with purple hair?|4band-purple]] [[Do you know anyone who would have wanted to do this?|4band-wanted]] [[Where were you at the time of the murder?|4band-where]] [[When did you see the deceased last?|4band-seelast]] [[Thanks for your time.|4band-thanks]]

<<drummer>>Yeah, sure. All the time.<</drummer>> <<alex>>So he wasn't a vampire.<</alex>> <<bassist>>Are you fucking serious? Let me see those badges again.<</bassist>> [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

<<drummer>>Not gonna lie, there's probably more than one.<</drummer>> <<bassist>>None that stick out, though.<</bassist>> [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

<<bassist>>Nobody.<</bassist>> <<drummer>>This music isn't for everyone but it's not that bad, either.<</drummer>> [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

<<bassist>>Side gig.<</bassist>> <<drummer>>Yeah, we were playing a wedding at the Hilton. You can call Cynthia at the front desk to verify. She knows me //really// well.<</drummer>> [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

<<drummer>>He was leaving our show last Tuesday. Got into a cab with a girl I didn't know. Pretty typical.<</drummer>> <<alex>>Anything about this girl stand out?<</alex>> <<bassist>>Nah, I only saw her from the back as she was getting in the taxi and she was wearing a hoodie.<</bassist>> [img[images/arrow.png][4band-2]]

<<bassist>>Of course.<</bassist>> <<drummer>>Let us know if you need anything else.<</drummer>> [img[images/arrow.png][themap]]

[[Did the deceased have any enemies?|4waffle-enemies]] [[Did you notice anything out of the ordinary during his last shift?|4waffle-ordinary]] [[Where were you at the time of death?|4waffle-time]] [[Thanks for your time.|4waffle-thanks]]

<<manager>>No one that I knew of. Remy was definitely popular with the waitresses, if you catch my drift.<</manager>> <<alex>>Any of those waitresses have purple hair?<</alex>> <<manager>>No way. Corporate office has a dress code. That shit wouldn't fly.<</manager>> [img[images/arrow.png][4waffle-2]]

<<manager>>No. He was cracking jokes as usual. Talking about a show he performed at about a week ago. Some girl met him in the parking lot. Gave him a ride home.<</manager>> <<alex>>Did you recognize her?<</alex>> <<manager>>No, I figured she was some new girlfriend. The girls were a rotating cast of characters in his life.<</manager>> <<alex>>What'd she look like?<</alex>> <<manager>>Like the people in his band. Counter-culture. Tattoos. Died hair.<</manager>> <<alex>>What color hair?<</alex>> <<manager>>Couldn't say exactly. It was dark. But not a natural color, that's for sure.<</manager>> [img[images/arrow.png][4waffle-2]]

<<manager>>Right here. You can ask any of the wait-staff.<</manager>> <<alex>>I'll take your word for it.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][4waffle-2]]

<<manager>>No problem. You want a coffee to go?<</manager>> <<beth>>No, thanks. I've been off of caffeine for a //long// time now.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][themap]]

<<alex>>This is Detective Barker.<</alex>> <<natalie>>Alex, it's me.<</natalie>> <<alex>>Hey Natalie, what's up?<</alex>> <<natalie>>I got something new for you.You know that white sand from the crime scenes? Turns out it's not sand at all. It's salt.<</natalie>> [img[images/arrow.png][part4call2]]

A few hours later, Beth and I are standing in the salt mines giving the Camarilla an update. I start by informing them that... [[...our suspect is a vampire.|vampiredidit]] [[...our suspect is a human being.|humandidit]]

<<beth>>The murdered priest had distinctive puncture wounds on his neck. As we all know, most vampires would have licked the wounds shut.<</beth>> <<alex>>Because the body was left on display, we know the murderer wasn't caught in the act, suggesting that the wounds were meant to be discovered - deliberate clues.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-3]]

<<beth>>The death of the singer reinforces our position. I examined the body closely and determined that he wasn't Kindred, which means the stake through his heart was another planted clue.<</beth>> <<alex>>The second victim was a local celebrity, likely chosen for his public profile. Friends and colleagues of both victims mentioned a young woman with purple hair. As of now, this is our main suspect.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-4]]

<<alex>>Finally, there's this.<</alex>> I hold up an evidence bag filled with - <<alex>>Salt. From this very mine.<</alex>> <<beth>>Traces of it were found at both crime scenes.<</beth>> <<alex>>Which means that the murderer has been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs leading right to your doorstep.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-5]]

<<alex>>The police are in the dark about this location for now but the lab will narrow the search down to this mine in a few hours.<</alex>> <<beth>>It won't be long before they trace it back to this very hall. In other words, we need to clear out. Tonight. This Elysium can never be used again.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-6]]

The Camarilla watch us in rapt silence, their stone-like faces glistening in the torchlight. <<prince>>I'm disappointed. In both of you. You've come to the wrong conclusion.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-7]]

<<beth>>I beg your pardon?<</beth>> <<prince>>Bring out the condemned.<</prince>> My mouth goes dry as I watch two thick vampire goons drag someone to the front. She's shackled and bedraggled. Hair a mess. Her eyes are far away, as though she knows it's all over. //Quinn.// [img[images/arrow.png][part5-8]]

<<alex>>What the fuck is this?<</alex>> <<prince>>As the two of you were carrying on your investigation, I've been conducting my own. We've suspected a usurper since the beginning, I'm sure Beth told you that.<</prince>> I look at Beth. She doesn't look back. <<prince>>It doesn't happen often but from time to time the burden of eternity is too much for a fledgeling to bear. Regrets bubble up to the surface. Regrets that sometimes make us behave regretfully. Isn't that right, Ms. Quinn?<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-9]]

<<quinn>>I didn't do this. I've told you that.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-10]]

<<prince>>Quinn's very own Sire, Solomon Gregor, suggested that we search her Haven.<</prince>> <<solomon>>Lately, her behavior has been erratic and suspicious.<</solomon>> <<quinn>>Suspicious? //How?!//<</quinn>> <<prince>>I think you'll agree that the evidence we found is damning to say the least. <</prince>> The Prince tosses something at my feet. I bend over and pick up a dark, purple wig. [img[images/arrow.png][part5-11]]

The Camarilla drag Quinn to the decrepit warehouse above ground and chain her to the foundation. Two of their minions leap into the rafters and gleefully tear a hole in the rusted steel roof. In less than an hour, the sun will rise and shine directly on Quinn, burning her to ash. The chains on her wrists and ankles are unbreakable. The locks securing her are unpickable. There's nothing I can do but numbly watch from the shadows. I've never felt so helpless. [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-2]]

Soon, the vampires leave, running off into the night. There's a quiet moment. Quinn and I are alone. She looks at me with bright red tears in her eyes, //anguished.// I don't know what else to say, so I ask - <<alex>>Did you do it?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-3]]

Quinn laughs bitterly. <<quinn>>Would it make you feel better if I did?<</quinn>> I watch her silently. <<quinn>>Sure, Alex... //Sure.// They turned me and everything got worse. I made a //huge// mistake when I left you. I hate my afterlife. So I took my anger out on the Camarilla and left a trail of clues that even the Detroit PD could follow.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-4]]

I shake my head and look up at the brightening sky through the holes in the roof. <<alex>>No, you didn't.<</alex>> <<quinn>>No. I didn't. But if you want to believe that then I can go to oblivion knowing that I at least //tried// to make things right between us.<</quinn>> I don't know what to say. [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-5]]

<<quinn>>I know how hollow this will sound given the circumstances, but I'm sorry that I left you. I couldn't turn down what they were offering. The opportunity to see the distant future. To know this world in a new and incredible way. To conquer death, instead of fear it.<</quinn>> <<alex>>Is that what it was? To be a vampire?<</alex>> <<quinn>>Yes.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-6]]

<<quinn>>I didn't kill those people, Alex. I didn't set up the Camarilla. I'm not fucking stupid.<</quinn>> Quinn looks towards the purpling sky. Sunrise is just moments away. <<quinn>>But I am scared.<</quinn>> Her voice drops to a whisper. <<quinn>>Will you stay with me?<</quinn>> [[Yes.|part5a-7]] [[No.|part5a-7a]]

<<alex>>Of course.<</alex>> We share a few more words in the final moments. But those are for me alone. I hold her as the sun came up. She turns to ash in my hands. It's the worst sunrise of my life. [img[images/arrow.png][part6]]

Covered in the burnt remnants of Quinn, I take the hip flask from my pocket and empty it into my mouth. I spend the entire day lying in her ashes. I cry. I sleep. I long for numbness but it never comes. The sun eventually sinks beneath the horizon and darkness envelops me. Not long after, Beth approaches from the shadows and looks pityingly down on me. <<beth>>I'm not sure what you expected, Alex. We're monsters.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6-2]]

<div class="twoyears"><p class="twoyears"><<fadein 3s>>[[TWO YEARS LATER|part1]]<</fadein>></p></div> [img[images/arrow.png][part1]]

<<murray>>You look a little drunk, if I'm being honest.<</murray>> <<alex>>You want me to walk a line for you?<</alex>> <<murray>>No, I want you to work a case with me.<</murray>> He points to the coffee cup. <<murray>>Is this going to be a problem?<</murray>> <<alex>>Never stopped me before.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part1a-4]]

<<murray>>Right! //Vampires.// Some lunatic is running around thinking he's a fucking //VAMPIRE!// Like you and I don't got enough problems.<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][inside-7]]

<<murray>>Oh bullshit. You're hammered. You're hitting the sauce too hard, man. Any idiot can see that. I like to party as much as the next guy but it can't interfere with the work. I need you to pull it together. Understood?<</murray>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2-7]]

The Prince smiles toothily. <<prince>>I appreciate your conviviality, Detective. I'm so glad you understand that sometimes it's best to go along if you want to get along.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-13]]

<<alex>>I already watched you disappear once, Quinn. I can't do it again.<</alex>> I walk out of the warehouse just as the first rays of sunlight break through. It's the worst sunrise of my life. [img[images/arrow.png][part6a]]

The next night I return to the scene, stumbling drunk. A pile of windblown ashes and a set of empty chains are the only remnants of the woman I loved. Suddenly, I hear a voice from the shadows: <<beth>>I'm sorry, Alex. We're monsters.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6-2]]

Beth drives me to the diner and orders me eggs and coffee. My mind is swimming but one question bubbles to the top of my consciousness. <<alex>>When did the world turn to shit?<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6-3]]

<<beth>>It didn't.<</beth>> She sighs, debating internally about what she should say next. <<beth>>You're at a low point. But recognize that you don't have the same perspective as a vampire. I remember the flu of 1918. Both World Wars. I knew days when I could leave a corpse in the street and nobody cared. If you'd seen what I have you'd know... People, //on the whole,// are safer, healthier and more comfortable than they've ever been. Maybe not you, not right now... but things get better. There's slow, steady progress.<</beth>> She gestures to the city outside. <<beth>>Even in Detroit. Have faith. Your story's not over yet.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6-4]]

I look out the window at this husk of a city and try to accept what she's saying. <<alex>>So what do I do?<</alex>> <<beth>>Keep trying.<</beth>> Then she levels her gaze at me... <<beth>>And quit drinking.<</beth>> I grimace. She's right. I know it. Embarrassed, I shove my hands in my pockets and feel something unfamiliar. Hair. I pull out the purple wig. [img[images/arrow.png][part6-5]]

<<alex>>Quinn told me she didn't do it.<</alex>> <<beth>>You believe her?<</beth>> <<alex>>Yes. She desperately wanted to be a vampire. It was so important to her that she left me.<</alex>> <<beth>>What are you saying?<</beth>> <<alex>>Why would she throw away something that she wanted so badly?<</alex>> I turn the wig over in my hands. [img[images/arrow.png][part6-6]]

Beth leans back in the booth, thinking hard. <<beth>>Why the wig?<</beth>> <<alex>>If she regretted becoming immortal, if she was bringing the heat down on the Camarilla, if the whole point was to breach the Masquerade...<</alex>> <<beth>>...why the wig?<</beth>> Beth holds my gaze across the table for a long moment as she chews on the question. <<beth>>Maybe we missed something.<</beth>> <<alex>>Maybe we did.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6a-1]]

A snooty-looking fucker in black steps away from the others to yell at me. I happen to know this guy. Solomon Gregor. He's the one who ensnared Quinn and introduced her to the world of the undead. <<solomon>>You'll address the Prince and Primogen before you with respect or fear. Those are your only choices, Detective.<</solomon>> [[Fuck you, Solomon.|fuckyou]] [[Whatever you say, chief.|chief]]

Solomon's eye burn red with anger. He steps toward me before the Prince stops him with a glance. <<prince>>Now, now. We only need to play nice long enough to settle the matter at hand.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-7]]

Solomon's eyes burn red. The Prince chuckles lightly to himself. <<prince>>So good to be in your company again, Detective.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part2a-7]]

It's a record scratch moment. My eyes meet Beth's. <<alex>>//Salt?// You're sure?<</alex>> <<natalie>>No question about it. And get this? //It's local.// We'll have a full analysis done by tomorrow. Should help us narrow down the exact source. Just thought you should know.<</natalie>> She hangs up and Beth and I share a look. <<beth>>The Camarilla...<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5]]

<<alex>>As of now, our theory is that the murders were perpetrated by a vampire.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-2a]]

<<alex>>At this time, we believe the murders were perpetrated by a human being who staged them to look like vampire attacks.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-2]]

<<beth>>The murdered priest had distinctive puncture wounds on his neck.<</beth>> <<alex>>And because the body was left on display, we know the murderer wasn't afraid of being caught in the act.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-3a]]

<<beth>>The death of the singer reinforces our position. I examined the body closely and determined that he wasn't Kindred, which means the stake through his heart was a planted clue.<</beth>> <<alex>>It's likely a red herring meant to distract us from the fact that he had been drained of blood, just like the priest.<</alex>> <<beth>>Friends of the victim reported seeing him with a woman who had purple hair. Currently, this unidentified woman is our main suspect.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-4a]]

<<prince>>And why would someone do that?<</prince>> <<alex>>I don't know who it is and I don't know why - not yet, at least - but there's a vampire who's trying to run the Camarilla out of town.<</alex>> The Camarilla watch us in rapt silence, their stone-like white faces glistening in the torchlight. <<prince>>Excellent work. Both of you. I'm afraid you've confirmed our darkest suspicions.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-7a]]

<<beth>>Suspicions?<</beth>> <<prince>>Bring out the condemned.<</prince>> My mouth goes dry as I watch two thick vampire goons drag someone to the front. She's shackled and bedraggled. Hair a mess. Her eyes are far away, as though she knows it's all over. //Quinn.// [img[images/arrow.png][part5-8a]]

<<quinn>>I didn't do this. I've told you that.<</quinn>> [img[images/arrow.png][part5-10a]]

<<prince>>I intend to close the book on this matter tonight. Detective, your services will no longer be necessary. Before evacuating these hallowed halls, we will commence with the administration of Final Death.<</prince>> The shadowy fiends chortle and laugh at the Prince's condemnation. I feel sick. [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-1]]

<<prince>>I intend to close the book on this matter tonight. Detective, your services - such as they are - will no longer be necessary. Before evacuating these hallowed halls, we will commence with the administration of Final Death.<</prince>> The shadowy fiends chortle and laugh at the Prince's condemnation. I feel sick. [img[images/arrow.png][part5a-1]]

I find a tag on the wig that leads us to a costume shop across town. Luckily, it's early in the evening and they're still open. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised but the girl behind the counter is wearing a mask. It's off-putting, to say the least. <<clerk>>Can I help you?<</clerk>> Beth and I flash our badges and I toss the wig on the counter. <<alex>>We need some information.<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6a-2]]

[[Do you know who this was sold to?|soldto]] [[Show her a picture of Quinn|picofquinn]] [[Show her pictures of other suspects|otherpics]]

Beth's eyes open wide. She has a look on her face like she's been hit by a truck. <<beth>>Purple. I should have known.<</beth>> <<alex>>What? What is it?<</alex>> <<beth>>Come with me. I'll explain on the way.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7]]

<<clerk>>Ugh... I sold that to some weirdo just last night.<</clerk>> <<beth>>Not a young woman?<</beth>> <<clerk>>No, he was a middle-aged guy dressed like he was going to one of those Eyes Wide Shut parties. Super skeazy.<</clerk>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6a-2]]

I flip through my phone until I find a picture of Quinn and show it to her. <<quinn>> <</quinn>> <<alex>>Have you ever seen this woman?<</alex>> The girl in the mask looks closely then shakes her head. <<clerk>>No, she doesn't look familiar.<</clerk>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6a-2]]

I turn to Beth and say - <<alex>>Maybe there's someone else from the salt mines she might recognize?<</alex>> Beth takes out her phone and starts flipping through pictures of the Camarilla. <<beth>>Do you recognize any of these faces?<</beth>> Beth scrolls through a few pictures before the masked girl stops her. <<clerk>>Him! That's the guy. He asked me if the wig was 'pleasing' to a young woman like myself. Ugh... What a creeper.<</clerk>> Beth holds her phone up to show me. On screen is a picture of Solomon Gregor. <<clerk>>It didn't even make sense. She didn't need a wig!<</clerk>> <<beth>>She who?<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][otherpics2]]

Back in the car, Beth explains everything - <<alex>>What's going on?<</alex>> <<beth>>//Purple.// The color of the Sabbat.<</beth>> <<alex>>The Sabbat?<</alex>> <<beth>>Another sect.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7-2]]

<<beth>>The Camarilla is just one sect of vampires. There are others. The Sabbat reject our traditions, including the Masquerade.<</beth>> <<alex>>And purple is -<</alex>> <<beth>>The color most commonly associated with them. And that tattoo? It's their symbol. The Sword of Caine.<</beth>> <<alex>>So what does that have to do with Solomon Gregor?<</alex>> <<beth>>//Everything.//<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7-3]]

<<beth>>20 years ago, Detroit was a Sabbat city until a cartel declared war upon all undead. The city was lost. Then, a few years ago, things cooled off. The Camarilla moved back in, staking a claim on the city. //But so did the Sabbat.//<</beth>> <<alex>>You're telling me this is all about a vampire turf war?<</alex>> <<beth>>One battle in a worldwide struggle stretching back centuries.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7-4]]

At a downtown hotel, we find the Primogen waiting for us in their temporary Elysium. Beth called ahead and had them detain Solomon. There's a fury in his eyes as we walk in. <<prince>>Beth... There'd better be a good explanation for this.<</prince>> <<beth>>There is.<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-2]]

<<clerk>>The girl he was with. Here... Look.<</clerk>> The clerk turns the screen of the store's computer to face us. She scrolls through the video from the previous night until she finds Solomon and a young girl with tattoos and dyed hair. <<clerk>>See? Her hair was already purple. <</clerk>> Beth and I gape at the screen. It's Solomon. No doubt about it. And the purple haired girl that's standing beside him is definitely //not// Quinn. Beth points to the girl's tattoo - a sword with a circular hilt on her shoulder. <<beth>>The sword of Caine...<</beth>> [img[images/arrow.png][part6a-3]]

<<alex>>And the girl with the purple hair?<</alex>> <<beth>>She's a Sabbat loyalist. And it appears that Solomon has turned on us. He's already run us out of our Elysium, convinced us to kill one of our own...<</beth>> <<alex>>Let's go talk to the Prince. I want to take this guy down. //Now.//<</alex>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-1]]

We spend the next several minutes bringing everyone up to speed. I explain how Solomon collected salt from the Camarilla's mines to spread at murder scenes that deliberately breached the Masquerade. His accomplice, a purple haired Sabbat loyalist, was used to entice his victims: a priest who hoped to save her and a rockstar who hoped to bed her. Their plan worked flawlessly. In less than two nights the Camarilla was already run out of their Elysium and killing their own. By the time I'm done explaining how the Sabbat are attacking the Camarilla from within, the anger in Solomon's eyes has withered to a dull acceptance. He knows that he's caught. [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-3]]

As the other Primogen watch, the Prince boils with anger. <<prince>>What did they promise you, Solomon? Riches?<</prince>> <<solomon>>No. A return to our prime.<</solomon>> The others shake their heads at this admission. <<solomon>>Why let the cows run the slaughterhouse? Isn't it obvious? We should be in control! Abandon the Masquerade, it only weakens us! But the Camarilla will never learn. Because they're ruled by cowards.<</solomon>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-4]]

<<prince>>Solomon, you went behind our backs. You framed us, leaving your sad little clues everywhere. You breached the Masquerade. And you did it by slinking around with our enemies because... //you're// meant to rule the world?<</prince>> The Prince looks at Solomon with pity in his eyes. <<solomon>>...<</solomon>> <<prince>>What a pathetic state of affairs.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-5]]

The Prince looks at me with sadness in his eyes. <<prince>>I must apologize. I know that Quinn meant a great deal to you. I'm sorry that she was caught up in all of this, an innocent bystander. May I offer you this as a small token of my regret?<</prince>> The Prince holds an ancient looking sword, handle towards me. <<prince>>It's quite rare for a human to administer Final Death like this. I hope you realize the magnitude of my proposition.<</prince>> [[Take the sword.|takesword]] [[Turn him down.|turndown]]

I take the sword and heft it, feeling the weight with both hands. The Prince's bodyguards hold Solomon's head down, exposing his neck to me. I lift the blade above my head and - <<alex>>This is for Quinn.<</alex>> - bring it down with all my might. Solomon's head is swiftly separated from his shoulders. [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-6]]

<<alex>>You can clean up your own messes. I've done enough for you already.<</alex>> The Prince shrugs as his bodyguards hold Solomon's head down, exposing his neck. The Prince lifts the blade above his head and swiftly brings it down again, separating Solomon's head from his shoulders. [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-6]]

Dark blood spills from Solomon's corpse, ruining the rug. I feel bad. It's a nice rug. The Prince hands the sword to one of his underlings who stows it away in its scabbard. <<prince>>Detective, it's time for us to prepare our counterattack. But before we do that, I must tell you something. I will forever be in your debt for what you and Beth have done for us tonight.<</prince>> [img[images/arrow.png][part7a-7]]

<<prince>>We've had two recent vacancies in our organization. Perhaps I could interest you in joining us.<</prince>> <<alex>>You want to turn me into a vampire?<</alex>> <<prince>>It's a one in a million opportunity. You'll see the distant future. You'll never fear death again.<</prince>> I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. <<prince>>Join us.<</prince>> [[Become a vampire.|theend]] [[Turn him down.|theend]]

Game Designed by Ben Wolf (<a href="https://twitter.com/chainsawmcd">@chainsawmcd</a>) Art courtesy of the <a href="https://www.worldofdarkness.com/news/official-v5-art-packs-for-storytellers-vault-and-dark-pack-creators">Official V5 Art Packs</a> Additional images courtesy of the <a href="https://unsplash.com/license">Unsplash License</a> Contributing Photographers (via Unsplash) - Simon Daoudi Silvio Kundt Jacky Lam Llanydd Lloyd Vladimir Proskurovskiy Luke Southern Hans Vivek [img[images/arrow.png][title]]

<div class="credits"><p class="twoyears"><<fadein 3s>>[[THE END.|title]]<</fadein>></p></div>

CONTENT WARNING: The following contains graphic descriptions of violence and coarse language. Player discretion is advised. [img[images/arrow.png][intro]]