The Ashes of Prague
Creepy Vamp Cannibal
Born the son of a bureaucrat and a physician. An honours student through high school. A masters in economics. This was my life, and it fucking sucked. And do you want to know the worst part? I couldn’t even tell.
I was on the not-so-fast track to a death in mediocrity. And then something dramatic happened…nah, I’m just screwing with you. I got turned for what I can only assume as number bolstering for the war.
The Lancea Sanctum was…fine….I guess. I wasn’t expressly a slave, so that was cool. I helped move things around, kept finances in order. All in all, undeath was shaping up to be about as stellar as life. Day in, day out-or more, night in, night out.
Next thing you know, some up-his-own-ass Daeva prick corners me after a long night. He starts yelling about how ‘stealing from superiors will not be tolerated.’ I try to tell him that I don’t have a clue what he’s yammering about, but soon enough, the fucker whips a gun on me! On fucking me! Are you kidding me!? I’m a fucking pencil-pusher! I lick fucking boots around here, and you’re going to pull this shit?
It’s stupid shit like this that makes a guy want to rip someone’s throat out.
So now we’ve got a problem. I’m soaked, and I mean FUCKING DRENCHED in blood. Luckily, the place was pretty empty considering that I was apparently supposed to get offed, and I just start running. I don’t know where, I just go. Sooner or later, I’m at the waterfront. I’m fucked and I know it. I’m honestly thinking about torporing my ass downstream when I hear someone coming up.
She wasn’t one of those Christian assholes; I could tell that right away. The first tip-off was the fact that she was basically naked, and for some reason that put me at ease. She offers me sanctuary. She tells me that even if I hadn’t killed one of their own, the Sanctum doesn’t look kindly upon cannibals.
Then she starts asking about my first meal…and I’ll be honest, it tasted sweet. She introduces me to the ‘clutch.’ For once, I was surrounded by people who had goals, REAL goals. I was surrounded by apex predators.
I learned my place fast. Disrespect, real or imagined, never went over well, and if you wanted to survive to the Third Descent, you needed to learn the hierarchy. But, you know, beatings or not, at least I was finally alive-or whatever.
And then it all went to shit. Turns out a bunch of cannibalistic, pagan freaks are a bit of a liability in all out fucking warfare. So I hid. Hell of an apex predator, but at least I’m still here.
Now to catch up. I found a few more Acolytes nearby. They’re…nice. They call themselves People of the Land, and they say that we worship the same Mother. Sure. My hellish Crone is your nurturing Mother. But they help. They keep me safe, and leave me be. And most importantly, they let me hunt alone.