Mr Badger came back into the world of consciousness in the same way each day. Having always been an early riser, a hold over the military days, the sun was still setting as his eyes opened. Knowing better from experience against leaping up and looking around Mr Badger waited a few minutes for the sun to completely set before rising. When at his house Mr Badger slept in a comfortable king sized bed. Beside the pillows on a small stand sat a Coffee machine that he had carried along with him for decades now. Its workings held more with the clock work than the electronic but it had never failed him. Come power cut, come flood come fire this machine had been one of his trusted friends the whole time. It had never failed, till today. Without moving Mr Badger could sense something was amiss. The usual sound of liquid being recirculated was missing. The steady ticking of the machine's operation was missing. Something was not right.
With a swift roll Mr Badger threw himself off the bed facing the doorway, all his senses were searching for the attacker that had to be there somewhere. Landing in a crouch with claws extended Mr Badger snarled as his eyes searched the room. There was nothing there, nothing living. The room was empty of any scent other than his own, on the pillow beside his own faded daisies remained, left from the last time a certain important friend had visited but other than the smell of those flowers there was nothing out of the ordinary. Even so Mr Badger could just feel there was someone else in the room with him.
A faint glow in the corner of the room drew Mr Badger's attention. It began from around chest height, the slight outlining of a human form. While teleportation was still the realm of the Science Fiction crowd or those who were far older in the Blood than himself Mr Badger was not about to take any chances. Before the form could solidify any further Mr Badger struck out with a sweeping claw rake. As his hands swept through the form for a moment there was a slight give as something material parted. After that slight piece of damage was done Mr Badger's claws swept through what felt like nothing. Taking a step back to regain his balance Mr Badger watched the glow intensify. The glow formed itself into a representation of a male figure. It stood just shorter than Mr Badger and weighed proportionally less as well. The form was dressed in what appeared to be contemporary clothing and looked to be about 20 years of age. It stood motionless, staring straight at Mr Badger with an even glance.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Asked Mr Badger. Thinking back Mr Badger tried to match the face with those he knew well. "You're not one of mine, that much I can remember. I always try to remember the people I've killed before, helps keep me warm on those long winter nights as you can imagine." The form seemed to expand slightly and its mouth opened up in a soundless hiss. "I take it you want something, your kind always seem to. Vengeance this, vengeance that, it's all payback or 'please help me find something' with you isn't it? Get your act together and just get over it, before someone helps you along the way," snarled Mr Badger as he glared at the figure. The glowing figure narrowed its eyes and opened its mouth as if to offer a retort. Instead of sound coming forth Mr Badger felt a slight breeze begin in the room. The breeze instantly increased to a gale as the form screamed at the Vampire in front of it. Mr Badger felt his skin begin to tear as the phantom's cry tore into his being,. With a stab of his clawed hands Mr Badger struck deep into the form of the phantom. It flickered out of existence, taking the cry of rage with it. Looking around Mr Badger righted the articles in the room that had been disturbed and began the preparations for the day.
The next morning Mr Badger woke slower than usual, the sun had already set before his awareness returned. Slow to thought Mr Badger waited a moment before looking towards the door. There, in the same place as the night before, stood the phantom. It appeared exactly as it had previously, except its eyes seemed even more hurried, more haunted. "Aren't we the persistent one?" Mumbled Mr Badger as he got slowly off the bed. The room seemed as dead as the person standing before him. The air was lifeless and smelt of a place long locked away from the world around it.
The phantom raised its hand to its lips in the sign of 'quiet.' Walking silently across to the mirror in front of the bed the phantom pressed it's hand against the glass. The finger left a silver trail along its path, the trail leaving words behind in a glowing script. As the phantom wrote the finger began to get smaller, soon the entire hand was near pressed against the glass. The glow of the phantom was fading, as if it were expending of its self to contact this world in the only way it could. The phantom finished its tracing and spun around to stare at Mr Badger. Locking their eyes the phantom wept a single tear that fell to the ground with the light of the traceries flickering through it. The phantom vanished in a flick of the eye. Reaching down to run a finger through the droplet on the floor Mr Badger was surprised to find his finger grow wet at its touch.
Even though the phantom had left, the words on the mirror remained, slowly pulsing as the energies within decayed into the place they were born. Across the mirror these words were spelt. "Kill him, kill him so we are all that will be." Mr Badger leaned back and flicked his tongue across the residue on his finger. With a snarl Mr Badger spat out the liquid. It was sour, sour like something long gone from this world. The taste remained in his mouth for the entire evening as Mr Badger thought about the phantom's message. By the time it came to rest for the sun's hours Mr Badger had come to a conclusion. He would help the phantom, if only to get a good days rest. Also Mr Badger was intrigued as to why the phantom had come to him? How did it know about him and why did it think he could help? Darkness lowered itself and Mr Badger slept.
Opening his eyes Mr Badger looked toward the door. The slight glow of the sunset remained under its visage. Slowly raising himself Mr Badger checked to see if the blackout curtains around the room remained undisturbed. Other Vampires used Ghouls to maintain their security. Mr Badger would have none of that, only a certain few would ever see the inside of his Havens with his consent. Of those they were friends or his lover, none were servants. If you can't do it for yourself learn it or go without. Servants belong to a gone age, past mistakes need not be repeated. As Mr Badger reached for the ready cup of coffee the phantom appeared once more. Saluting the phantom with the glass Mr Badger wordlessly acknowledged the courtesy of this time waiting for him to awaken before appearing. "OK Casper, we'll play this my way from now on. You've got some grudge against some guy. If it means you'll leave me the hell alone then I'll lend you a hand but none of that mystical crap. You're dead, that much is sure. Where are you or don't you lot know where your bodies are?" Asked Mr Badger.
The phantom seemed to shrink within itself then explode outwards with a shower of force. The mirror exploded in a shower of glass and the room was torn apart into flying debris. The phantom had vanished as Mr Badger looked around his bedroom.
"I'll take that as a no, being dead really hasn't helped the temper much."
The next few nights followed the same script. Mr Badger would awaken and prepare for the arrival of his 'guest.' Certain questions would be asked as Mr Badger tried to narrow down who the 'him' was that was at the centre of all this. If progress was swiftly made or if the phantom could answer the question without touching on the sticky subject of its own death Mr Badger would get an answer. If not the phantom vanished with minor destruction. This night was different. "Settle down Casper and we'll get through this a lot quicker. Where's the last place you remember? Before, that bad thing happened." Asked Mr Badger.
The phantom pressed it's hand against the glass of the window. In the same manner as before it left a trail of words as it's finger crossed the window. Left on the glass was a single word, "Heartland." Mr Badger nodded and smiled at the phantom. "Time to pay a visit, I'll catch you later. Tag along if you're able, could be worth a laugh."
For the first time the phantom smiled as it vanished.
Heartland was the name of a local charity hostel. The place had been set up to look after local pack packers and those suffering misfortunes. It had a name for itself of being nothing out of the ordinary, nothing special and nothing beyond basic means. It survived through donations from a few and charity of businesses when it came to bare bones of the matter. Heartland could not help everyone but it helped a few. This time it appeared it was helping the wrong people.
Mr Badger looked through the front doors. The building was well lit with the brightness of occupation. The building was covered in faded paint and cracked boards. Before becoming the hostel the building had housed a supermarket complex. Inside it was wide open plan with thin board separating the newly designed rooms. Mr Badger was wearing some of his old campaigning clothes. Patched where they had been torn by lance or by tooth they were as stained and worn as the person's memories wearing them. They certainly fitted the part as Mr Badger walked his way past the people at the door.
Inside it was dinner time, a long line of silent people walked slowly past a kitchen staff serving the meal of the day. Mr Badger picked up a tray and joined the end of the queue. The smell from the food caused Mr Badger to shrink a little. There was nothing wrong with it as such other than it reeked of being plain. There was no flavour and no variety in its components. It would keep you alive, nothing more.
Sitting down in the middle of a full table Mr Badger shied away from conversation and in between mouthfuls looked about. Thankful that he could actually still eat food without being made ill Mr Badger finished the meal slowly. Most of the Vampires seemed to divorce themselves from eating and drinking. As if it were beneath themselves to continue on where they had left off. Seemed a bloody stupid idea to Mr Badger, where was the fun in turning into a Monk? Oh no, Blood is all we require. Piss off, might as well put on a skirt and chant for 23 hours a day. A good steak and a beer make the heart as warm as Feeding does anytime. Staff from the Heartland walked amongst the inhabitants as they ate. With soothing words and the promise of health care the staff fixed the most noticeable injuries while distracting the people involved.
Waving off the person trying to make idle conversation about having a check up on the house, Mr Badger narrowed his eyes in discovery. The man smiled enough and his mind seemed pure in what it was doing but he smelled wrong. Overlying the Mortal's scent was the taste of another. Leaning closer under the action of a cough Mr Badger flicked his tongue out to taste the air about him. The man smelled of someone far older. This person was a Ghoul, within its veins ran the Blood of a Vampire. Smiling to himself Mr Badger excused himself from the table and left towards the adjacent bathroom. Once inside Mr Badger cloaked himself against Mortal detection and left to examine the building.
The corridors were mostly deserted, a few members of the staff walked the floors on some errand or other but generally the rooms were empty. The rooms for those staying the night were in one end of the building. Low bunks filled these rooms so as many people as possible could be fitted into the small space. The few possessions of these people lay onto of the bunks, proof against theft as generally there was nothing within them worth stealing. Mr Badger left this area quickly as there seemed to be nothing worth seeing. Close by were the showers and bathroom areas. Inside there was the generally flow through of people after a meal but nothing noteworthy.
After dodging the attention of a security guard who was checking the rooms Mr Badger came across the medical centre. Outfitted like a low budget hospital the medical centre was orientated more along the lines of fighting colds and flu's rather than anything as exotic as an operation. The diagnostic equipment caught Mr Badger's eye. It seemed out of place in this sort of operation. Far too sophisticated in one way and just more thorough than necessary. Someone with TB does not care about whether they may be genetically prone to some disease 30 years down the track, if they survive that long. This part of the operation just smelt wrong to Mr Badger, leading him to take the time to look about a bit more precisely and in more detail.
One corner of the medical centre smelt strongly of the taint within the Ghouls. Circling the area till the place of strongest scent Mr Badger found what he was looking for. Behind what looked to be an autoclave was a passage wide enough to pull a gurney through. Being somewhat out of place for the general operation of an autoclave Mr Badger decided to investigate further. Climbing within the passage Mr Badger travelled along it's length till he came to the terminus. The other side was locked; a forceful shove showed the bar on the other side was fit for its purpose. Judging whether he should kick the door out or look for another entrance into this area Mr Badger stopped when he detected something. The same smell of something locked away from the breeze filled his nostrils. The scent was the same as that the phantom showed when ever it visited. Relaxing Mr Badger could hear the screech of tortured metal being moved. With a snap of force meeting matter the bar locking the door gave way and the passage exit swung open. Slipping out Mr Badger caught sight of the phantom fading away once more; as it left it pointed towards one of the lockers on the wall.
Sweeping his eyes around the room Mr Badger found only darkness as his companion. The phantom was gone so only he remained with in these walls. The room itself was slightly lit from a glowing screen of a nearby computer. The rest of the room contained a wall of closed half lockers and what appeared to be a large aquarium. Mr Badger checked to make sure the doors were locked before opening the locker suggested by the phantom. Inside lay a hemp shoulder bag containing a shaving kit and a few photos. The wallet was empty of money but the Rifle Licence within contained a picture Mr Badger matched with the face of the phantom.
"Well, it's expired a little early I'd say." Mumbled Mr Badger as he grabbed the bag out of the locker and placed in on his own shoulders. Examining the rest of the room Mr Badger found equipment an entire stage more advanced then that outside. State of the art to his eyes, Mr Badger suspected whomever ran this place was not all they seemed.
Tearing the locked drawer out of a desk Mr Badger looked for any documentation. This seemed like a place of research and as such there would be records somewhere. As the most secure place within the building it would suggest they were in here. A folder within the e-mail system of the computer told the tale. It was just a fragment, left over when a partial deletion didn't finish the job, but it was all that was necessary. The address at the top of the page was from Vienna, not enough to convict anyone but the seal at the bottom of a ring binder nearby told that the smell of Tremere was not a mistake. The ring binder told of a magnetic containment system and its operational abilities. Other documents told of equipment sensitive enough to detect brain waves. The e-mail document told of a project that was cancelled. A project that involved the expl
