Jordan slammed into a brick wall and fell to the ground. "Damn," he grunted, his simple mind already thinking about revenge on that particular wall. Looking up, however, he saw that it was not a wall, but a man. A bit pale, but still a human. "You'll get out of my way if ya know what's good for ya!" He screamed at the stranger. 

        "Or what?" The strange man said.

        Jordan got up and threw a punch at his face. It never connected. 

        "Or what?" Kain said with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

        The man awkwardly swung his fist at Kain's face. Kain caught the fist in his hand, bent it back over his elbow, and elbowed the side of the man's face with the other. Turning his neck an uncomfortable 180 degrees and snapping it in the process. The man's snarl turned into a frown as he collapsed to the ground. An easy meal. Kain called the man's blood to him, flowing like an airborne stream to his gullet. Kain savored each drop, tasting the warm life within it, refilling his own veins, strengthening him. "Ahhhh.." Kain sighed, relieved at the quenching of his thirst. Though I shall need more than this if my strength is to be completely restored. Kain looked down at his victim, as if to give a sarcastic thanks. But the victim was gone, a pile of dust in his place. Kain looked about, confused, where had the man gone to? Feeding had never caused a victim to disintegrate before. Then he remembered something. His face. His face was not normal, I was hungry and hadn't noticed at the time. The man's face was gnarled and twisted. With fangs in his mouth. What was he? Kain cursed his impatience. The creature may have had tainted blood, and, weak as he was, he did not need poison or perhaps the horrid dark blood in his veins. Kain swore to be more patient from now on. I wonder what this creature was running from? As if to answer, he saw bright lights ahead, Humans ride in those vehicles, and screeching wheels. Kain turned to face his victim's pursuers. A green vehicle, with a large mechanism atop. Kain didn't need to be an expert to realize that it was to fire impaling spikes. Kain decided to attempt to speak to them. "Who are you, why did you chase this creature?" 

        One of the humans aboard yelled "I see blood on his lips! He's another vampire!"

        Now they recognize my kind. Kain sidestepped just in time to avoid a spike aimed at his heart. Several of the humans jumped from the vehicle and ran at Kain with small wooden stakes in their hands. As they came, Kain drew his sword and parried their attacks easily. But fighting so many targets at once was hardly fitting for a being of such great power. He sheathed his sword. It would restrict him in this act. Kain focused his will on blood. Calling it, nay, seizing it, forcing it to him. Each attacker suddenly froze and screamed as blood started pouring from their arms and neck, streaming towards the caster, showering him in their life's blood. I have never truly appreciated the usefulness of this gift. Two of the attackers fainted, the others, wavering in shock, fear, and blood loss. Kain heard a mechanism triggered and jumped backwards. The spike grazed his chest. Impaled a human behind him who was too weak to move. His newly acquired blood rushed to heal the injury. Kain straightened his arm towards the machine. The human's were loading another round, enough time for Kain to perform this. He called energies from nature to him, raw, uncontrollable power. He channeled it through his arm, creating a quick bolt of energy from his body to the machine. The effect was instantaneous. The machine exploded, throwing the remaining humans onto the pavement and bits of metal and rubber into the air.
        Kain cast a pleased expression across his surroundings. It seemed the thrill of battle felt absent for some time. He watched the survivors slowly get up and run away. Some couldn't run, and had to be helped by the others. They seemed oblivious to the fact that Kain could easily destroy them all with one fell swoop. He allowed them to leave. He had had his fill of blood. There was no need to kill them now. He sated himself on what blood remained in his victims. A profitable night. Kain drew his sword again. Strange, it felt as though he had not seen it in a long time. He marveled at the blade in the moonlight. It gave no reflection, as though absorbing light. He had not used its power this time, not wanting to waste his limited energy. He knew not how quickly he would recover it now. Then again, perhaps if he had, the humans wouldn't have been so quick to attack. The dark blade's effects were 'memorable' to say the least. Kain stroked the blade once more. And sheathed it. Another vampire. They called me 'another' vampire. Did they believe that the creature they chased was a vampire? How could that be? Such a pitiful wretch be confused with the high blood of my kind? Kain pondered that for a moment, looking down at the bodies. They were certainly determined to kill me. Such vigor and dedication is rare amongst humans. Perhaps these pawns may be useful in the future. But first, I must know more about this world I find myself in. I may be here for some time. For starters, I want to know how large it is. With that, he assumed the form of a bat and began a surveillance of this strange land.

        The site was glum, in the rusted innards of L.A., police tape all around it. Angel simply walked under it. He needed a close up view of what he was dealing with. He studied the photos he'd taken from Kate as he walked. He couldn't even guess what it was he was looking at. Then he was standing right in front of it. The photos had seemed too cryptic to give a clear idea of what they meant. He'd come here to get a better idea of what he was seeing. But to no avail, the symbols were simply more confusing up close. No sense at all. Kate had been right though, the whole scene seemed haunted, 'creepy' didn’t do it justice. Large and black, they were intimidating. Standing out boldly even in the dark. The words and letters weren't spray painted on. That was for sure. It was too fine, too exact. There were no brush marks either. Like it had simply appeared there. Angel tried to scratch some of it off. Flakes came off it, but the symbol remained, still as clear and bold as earlier. Angel drew his fist back and punched into the wall, got a good grip, and ripped the piece out. He looked at it in his hand. The whole piece was bright black, if black can be bright. The hole in the wall was black too. These symbols hadn't simply been painted on the wall, they'd been burned into it! Through and through. He'd be willing to bet that a mirror image of this wall existed on the other side. He lifted the piece to his nose and smelled it. Blood? It certainly didn't look like it. More like radiation of some kind, to have burned through a foot of brick. What are these symbols? What do they mean? How on earth could blood be burned into a wall? The answer would have to wait as Angel heard a piercing scream echo through the air, followed by several more. Angel raced in it's direction, through alleys, around corners, moving on instinct, knowing the next turn, the fastest route, before he could even see it. 

        Angel arrived, stopped dead, the scene around him was grisly. Young men and women lying dead in an irregular circle around him. A long spike through one, the others desiccated, drained of all life. The burned out husk of a jeep about twenty feet from him. The hunters, a group of adolescent vampire hunters used that vehicle, The machine on top is a stake cannon, they've been plagued by vampires for so long, they started their own personal war against them. These kids, once he'd tried to help them, saved some of them, even though they didn't trust him and tried once to kill him. Strange that he didn't feel more remorse at these deaths. He didn't think this was the entire group, but it was enough to be a severe blow to their manpower. Why don't I feel for them? Am I so changed? Angel knew the answer even as his conscience posed the question. He was changed. He had abandoned his charges, the protection of innocents, the saving of souls. His heart was hardened. Feeling for them would only weaken him and leave him vulnerable to attack. They would have to recuperate on their own. Stand on their own feet. Angel couldn't help looking at the bodies for anyone he knew. A lost ally is a loss no matter what war you're fighting. He rationalized the act. There was something wrong. The bodies were desiccated, but there were no bite marks. What could possibly do this? Angel noticed blood on their throats and wrists, but no wounds. The symbols. Whatever did this was not vampire and certainly not human. I didn't know any demons capable of this kind of murder. Whatever those symbols mean. They must be linked to this killer. Angel had a goal now. Not a target, not yet, but he knew what he was after now. Soon he would put an end to this. Not for the sake of vengeance. Not for the sake of its victims, but to satisfy the burning inside him. The burning that told him that something intruded on his territory. The burning that could only be quenched by spilling blood.