Everything since awakening had been a blur, and none of it seemed real. Yasmine's kind voice after such a vicious attack, those men and women bursting in, the pain of the wooden stake through her chest, everything. Nothing that had happened since the pain of her friend's bite had caused a black out seemed real and still Melissa found herself wishing she could only wake up and everything would be alright. Of everything that she had heard since waking, only one of those things stayed in her mind, ringing and shouting, shouldering everything else aside: Yasmine's last words to her, spoken desperately and pleadingly but with an odd edge of acceptance, as if she'd known what was going to happen. "Fuck! The Camarilla are coming." At that moment Yasmine's head had turned from the doorway to look back at Melissa and she had spoken in a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, but something in it had made that voice, in her mind at least, as loud as if Yasmine had shouted it in the dead of night when everything was sleeping.<br/><br/>"Melissa, the Camarilla are coming. They will take us, but everything will be fine." A smile had split her face at that moment; an attempt at a confident, reassuring smile, but Melissa could sense an overwhelming sadness contained within it. "These words are the last thing I can give you, and if you've taken nothing else in tonight, then remember this. The Camarilla are evil. They will spin tales of their greatness and how they are magnanimous and forgiving; how they love and care for you, but remember this. The extent of their care for you extends only as far as your usefulness. They will use you, and if you refuse they will kill you. You are nothing more than a pawn to them.<br/><br/>But the Anarchs are different. Well will accept and take you in for no other reason than that you are in need. We contain everything the Camarilla lack. We love, we care, we show compassion and feeling for humanity, and we hide our existence not only out of a desire to not be hunted, but for the good of the Humans too. If we revealed ourselves, many of them - and us - would die. The Camarilla are evil. Escape them the first chance you get and seek out the Anarchs, for that is where you belong; where you are wanted." Yasmine's words were fast as lightning, spilling out of her mouth in a tumble, but somehow making perfect sense.<br/><br/>She spoke once more, in a pleading tone, as if trying to get Melissa to understand. "Remember. Always remember. The Camarilla are the reason you will never see me again.<b>They</b>are the reason for all your pain and hardship and the sense of hopelessness yet to come. And do not forget. The Anarchs will take you in, all you must say is my name."<br/><br/>There were so many things Yasmine never said, but Melissa was smart enough to join up the dots, and she understood what her friend meant. She'd spoken in a confused and desperate way, but as she stood there in the street, those confused and desperate words made perfect sense.<i>The Camarilla will use you</i>, she thought.<i>The Camarilla will lure you in with tales of grandeur then cast you aside</i>. And that one most important reason Yasmine had never voiced.<i>The Camarilla are the reason Yasmine is dead.</i>Even if Melissa had known nothing more about the Camarilla than that single thought, it would be enough.<br/><br/>It<i>was</i>enough.<br/><br/>The sound of a car horn drew Melissa out of her thoughts, startled, and she jumped in surprise. Gazing around at the other three, maroon fringe over her eye, Melissa's hand brushed over her back pocket briefly, making sure her pocket knife was still there, followed by the places her other weapons were kept on her person. Then, after a deep breath, Melissa took a hesitant step forward, her fear and nervousness like a palpable aura in the air surrounding her, visible to anyone who even gave her a passing glance...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>