<strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Ludolf and Samantha</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Deserted Alley</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Ludolf’s face broke into a sort of disgusting imitation of a smile. “Don’t worry, childe. I don’t want your money, of that I have no little supply myself.” His voice was dry, papery, like he was desiccated, a dried bag of bones. His smile cut itself off and the ratty features of his face composed themselves: “We should talk somewhere more private,” he added. As he spoke, he made a small gesture to the rats, and they responded by sweeping out of the mouth of the alley entirely and behind Sam, cutting off her regress. </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Ludolf led Sam halfway down the alley, the rats skittering and yipping behind the pair, and then he pulled away a half-rotten board from a broken out window that opened up to a room that was lower than the floor of the alley. Ludolf quite nimbly hopped inside, dropping down to the floor in the dark. “Come on in,” he called from the room below Samantha as he began to light a candle—wincing perceptibly at the sight of the flame, which gave Sam a bit of a start as well when she saw it. He carefully tucked the flame behind a board. It was enough light to cast a little of the room’s darkness into the corners. </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Once she climbed into the little chamber Sam was cognizant of the smell of human piss and feces. Bums probably squatted here. There were tattered makeshift beds in some of the corners. The rats flowed into the room behind her, forming almost a living wall that flanked behind Ludolf. </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">“Well now, childe, what are we to do with you? What are we to do?” The question was clearly rhetorical and Ludolf offered it up as he situated himself on some broken crates. He was wearing a mismatched outfit that was ill-fitting—the most dignified thing about his appearance was the little bowler hat perched on top of his ill-shaped skull. He again took up a pose that bespoke high-minded manners. He crossed his legs daintily, laced his fingers together and rested them on his knee.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">“The rules, dear childe, are that we do not reveal ourselves to humans. That we do not hunt each other. That we respect one another’s territories. That we do not make others like ourselves without permission. I’m afraid, you, dear, have broken some of these rules.” He steepled his fingertips together. For the first time Samantha could see like his face they were deformed, abnormally long and tipped in yellowed fingernails that looked ragged and diseased. There was also another odor in the room that Sam was becoming aware of—it was fetid, like something rotting. It seemed to emanate from Ludolf, and some of the rats came to him, swarming over his feet and ankles.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">He ended his speech briefly to bend down and stroke the animals. He let them nip and bite at his ankles. They lapped at his blood greedily and fed themselves on it. “You’ll have to forgive my little pets. They get so impatient,” Ludolf said, feigning a sort of displeasure that Sam could sense was not sincere. He seemed to enjoy the biting and the licking the rats engaged in. But Ludolf himself returned to addressing Sam. “So, what I want from you is a favor. I will ask you in the future. I don’t need anything just now, but you do owe me, and I might add, you are quite lucky the Lupines keep our population relatively low in Cape Merrin. A proper prince would have you executed for leaving so messy a kill out for anyone to find—especially at a recent crime scene. My dear, what <em>were</em> you thinking?” Again, that aristocratic, European tone had crept into his voice, and he glared at Sam pointedly before he continued “You will not take your messy little slut murders out to the caves or the coast again, do you understand me, childe? You may have had a rough time, perhaps your sire really did not teach you anything of our rules, but I will not have you pissing all over my territory with your temper tantrums. You need to get hold of your rages—they will drive you too far away from your humanity. You don’t want to end up scaring off your prey before you can even get close. People—humans—they <em>are</em> cattle, but even stupid mammals can sense a predator. And they <em>run</em>. When I want to collect my favor, I will find you. You may go now.”</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Without waiting for a reply, Ludolf leaned in toward the hidden candle, blew it out, and only the dim light that filtered from the street lamps down through the alley cast any light into the room. His body seemed to disappear into the darkness entirely, and she was left alone with the writhing and mewling of the rats . . .</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Otis and Arathel</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Otis’s Ford Pickup</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Otis smiled grimly at Arathel’s question and said, “Well, that’s when another kid’s going to go missing.” He chuckled to himself. Angels sure were weird creatures—who couldn’t keep dates straight? Even his kids could do that at a fairly young age. “Takes all kinds” Otis said cryptically before he turned up the music in the pickup.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">The rhythmic guitar of Blue Öyster Cult flowed out of the old sound system, and Otis tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes as he thought of Patty. Margaret. Jason. He choked back the tears as they drew near to Simon’s Bull.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Don’t Fear the Reaper by The Blue Öyster Cult</span>(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMYSWiPm7E0)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">[@ AndyK, feel free to post in response to this even though I am adding some more other stuff involving Otis. We can post a conversation for the drive if you like, or if you prefer, you can just have Arathel react to the scene at the exterior of Simon’s Bull.]</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Reginald</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Roof of Cobb Theater</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">As Reggy peered down into the alley he saw a long, narrow shape huddled in the darkness against the dumpster. It appeared to be hairy, and then it stopped, sniffing the air. Before Reggy could pull back from the edge of the roof, out of sight, the thing spun and looked upward at him. </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">It was impossibly tall, at least ten feet in height, and it held what looked like the corpse of a dead dog. Entrails and congealed blood poured from the deceased, bloated belly inches away from the giant’s mouth. The dog’s limbs were stiff, pointing ridiculously upward at Reggy, accusatorily asking why he would allow such desecration of an innocent dog’s body. The tall beast’s maw was covered in a slick, maroon substance. Its face was that of a giant rat, and the fur around its mouth was matted with the redness that had to have come from the rotting carcass of the dog. A long, ridged tail raised itself from behind the creature, and it hissed up at Reggy, yellow teeth gleaming in the faint light of the alley.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cori</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Unmarked Police Car</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Just Outside Simon’s Bull</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">As Cori was driving out to Devil Bat Cave she came upon the scene outside the shithole that was Simon’s Bull; the rain obscured the events slightly but through the suck-hush of the windshield wipers, Detective Michaels could make out three women were on the sidewalk. A man lay prone, sprawled before them. One woman had her hand on another’s shoulder. The man appeared to have been badly beaten; she had to decide if she was going out to Devil Bat Cave, or if she was going to stop and investigate and call in the 240 (http://www.radiolabs.com/police-codes.html)—or perhaps the 245—given that Cori could just make out a piece of rebar in the hand of the woman who was nearest to the downed bum. </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">[@ Yggdrasil, if you want to radio this in and then continue out to the cave, that’s fine. I think this can work either way.]</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Downed Bum, Abigail, Delilah, and Al</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Exterior of Simon’s Bull</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">As Al asked about an ambulance or phoning the police, the trio of women became aware of a large four-door sedan moving slowly down the street. The driver seemed to pause, slowing in front of the scene. The rain was flowing steadily, soaking the sidewalk that extended beyond the Simon’s Bull awning, and the beaten man was struggling to get out of range of Abigail. His fingers just barely reached a seam in the sidewalk’s concrete. He tried in vain to pull himself forward. The stench of shit and piss wafted up from his form—the seat of his pants darkened by incontinence. His blood and a few teeth were also on the sidewalk. He sputtered and shook as he tried to escape. Occasionally he managed to gasp “Help!” His voice was slurred, the word laced with pain.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Otis and Arathel</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Simon’s Bull Parking Lot</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">Cape</span></strong><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> Merrin</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">November 10, 2010</span></strong><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></strong><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">As Otis and Arathel emerged from the truck, Mutton Chops and Cop’s Brother were just strolling up to their pickup. “’Nother nutter,” muttered Mutton Chops to Cop’s Brother as they passed the pair.</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">As Otis and Arathel approached the front of the bar, half jogging to get out of the rain and under the awning, Otis stopped short, the water deflating the unruly nature of his unkempt pony tail as he stood just out of cover of the rain. He squinted through the rain, “Abigail? That you?”</span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span>