<div align="center">~ Mood Music ~ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z72_Sjy2SnQ)<br/>(https://i.imgur.com/W5gOlSN.png)<br/>(https://i.imgur.com/c7iqLoB.png)</div><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/vDaanjW.png)</div><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Ominous clouds covered the night sky above the sprawling urban landscape of the City of Angels. An howling wind echoed like a banshee above the usual cacophony of cars, trucks and other vehicles transiting on the roads. The shadowy alleyways and the corners of the metropolis were growing darker and darker, as if light was being sucked into an invisible black hole somewhere in the city. The air, strangely chilling for a place like LA, seemed charged with electricity. <br/><br/>An oppressive sense of dread had descended upon Los Angeles that night. The damned hunting for blood could feel it. Those who recognized Lucifer as their master could sense it. The pack of werewolves residing in the surrounding woods could perceive it. Even those mortals who possessed extrasensory perception could discern it. <br/><br/>Something old and wicked had come.<br/><br/>The source of the uneasiness was a female figure standing atop the flat roof of a twelve-story building in the neighborhood of Florence, in South Los Angeles. Her flowing hair fluttered wildly as gusts of wind attempted to dislodge her five feet, eight inches athletic frame. Motionless and emotionless, she observed the city scenery down below with a pair of glacial azure eyes. Just a mere glance would have allowed anybody to identify her as a perfect representative of the so-called Gothic subculture. <br/><br/>She was dressed in a long, black coat straight out of an historical movie, with a pair of skin tight leather pants that ran into combat-like ankle boots of dark leather. The flopping hair was half jet black, and the other half of a dark purple. Her plump bottom lip was pierced at both corners, and her ashen skin conveyed a sense of solemn beauty mixed to the gloom of the grave.<br/><br/>Behind the intricate facade was an ancient undead monster who had walked the earth since the time the Ramnes tribes first began settling the area now called Rome. Proxima was her name. She had endured the test of time, century after century, leaving a never ending trail of blood behind. The reasons of her presence in Los Angeles would have soon be felt by every undead inhabitant of the city. When she appeared, unparalleled violence and unspeakable horrors would soon follow. The ancient institution she spearheaded caused every Kindred in the Camarilla to tremble with genuine fear, and even those in the Sabbat shivered whenever it was mentioned.<br/><br/>The Black Hand.<br/><br/>When mortals spoke of ancient evils and things that go bump in the night, she was it. And even so, there were still those who dared challenging her. She could hear the flapping of the massive wing approaching. Off in the distance, a dark silhouette seemingly flying like a large bird. The figure rose high in the night sky and disappeared amid the sinister cloud banks, only to reappear behind her, landing on the roof with thunderous force. She remained frozen like a statue on the cornice of the roof, her voice as cold as the grave when she spoke. <br/><br/>"Have you come to slay me, children of the night?" <br/><br/>Only a loud, bestial shriek was heard in return. The crushing footsteps she heard next forced her to abandon her current position. She moved with such celerity that no mortal would have been able to comprehend. In the eyes of a human, she would have appeared only as a convulsed blur and nothing more. But her assailant was no ordinary son or daughter of Adam. It was a naked beast the kind of which she had never seen before. Repugnant and clearly trained to hunt and kill; the work of a sick Tzimisce mind, no doubt. It was at least nine feet tall, with a humanoid masculine body made of rotten flesh stitched together. It had a gigantic pair of wings attached to its back, not dissimilar from those of a bat. Its head was that of a human, but the jaw had been flesh-crafted to form a snout akin the one of a wolf. Its putrid jowls slobbered a disgusting yellowish substance, and its hands had massive claws surely capable of tearing into anything.  <br/><br/>"My, you certainly are an ugly one," the undead jested as her hands swiftly glided under the coat she was donning. Inside the garment, on either side, were straps that secured a pair of perfectly maintained and polished gladii; the classic short sword used by ancient Romans. Cold fingers tightened the grips of the weapons while she launched herself towards the horrid beast at incredible speed. The monster was quick enough to shift to a side and avoid the thrusting blade aimed at his belly. Apparently it wasn't smart enough to understand that one of the blades acted as a diversion to capture its attention, while the other gladius traveled undisturbed in midair. The perfect cleaving motion was completed when the blade sank deep into the rotten flesh. <br/><br/>"Didn't see it coming, did you?" The blow was so powerful that the undead was able to slice off the monster's right arm. Copious blood gushed out as the limb grisly rolled on the roof. The beast screamed so loudly that the entire surface of tar appeared to tremble under her boots. Surely, nearby mortals must have heard that. The situation was already getting out of hand. Whoever was responsible for that horror clearly didn't care about any notion of secrecy, thus the Camarilla seemed unlikely to be involved. Perhaps this was the work of one of the many Anarchs crowding Los Angeles. <br/><br/>Regardless, the beast had been bloodied. It jumped high in the air before it opened its dark wings to fly away. The undead thought that primordial survival instincts had prevailed, leading the monster to flee the sight of a superior opponent. Surprisingly, she watched the monster as it suddenly changed the trajectory of its flight. It went straight down in a dive, and in a few seconds, it fell upon the only mortal walking on the sidewalk below. The poor human girl found herself clutched within the beast's sharp claws as it flew back onto the roof. It screeched again powerfully before it pushed the girl away, making her stumble. <br/><br/>Why it had kidnapped a mortal in the middle of a confrontation was something that the undead had yet to decipher.</div><br/><div align="center">(https://i.imgur.com/c7iqLoB.png)<br/>Words: 1050 | Proxima's Attire (https://i.imgur.com/ypgm7hY.png)</div>