Knowledge or Death

Summary: Two sisters, Prudence and Piper, have been scouring England in search of the truth behind a mysterious urban legend… at the same time, Sebastian Sinclair seeks to deal with the loss of his brother Riley in the best way he knows how: denial and violence.

Disclaimer: Sebastian Sinclair is © our storyteller who will be known only as Steph. Prudence and Piper are © by myself. White Wolf owns all the vampire skuh-tuff involved with Sebastian, the plot however is my own (with credit to Steph for her advice on Sebastian)

Warnings: Violence, and not just of the vampire kind. There may be some sex later on, most likely rather rough if not violent as well. Oh, and if it comes to sex, there’s one more warning… that you’ll figure out when you get there. I really don’t want to ruin the surprise.

Silence. The entire structure was dripping with it. It seeped into the walls of the luxurious estate, eating away at the souls of anyone who would dare enter at this moment. Outside a light rain, that seemed nearly constant in this particular part of England, patted against the leaves, tapped against the wooden fences surrounding the ranch, and pelted against the many large, spotless picture windows and skylights. The overall dreary mood was only enhanced by the grayscale that seemed to engulf the interior, interrupted now and then by a flash of metallic silver or gold, or perhaps the rich brown of finely polished wood. Lush carpets lined plush bedrooms accompanied by overly elaborate bathrooms, the marble there continuing the color scheme with its black base and white threads. Leather sofas, leather bar stools, leather love seats… Everything was slick, smooth, or soft. Outside there were horse stables, inside there was a modest spa, and at the end of the house was one of the most elegant, well-stocked libraries in existence.

On a good day, the house would be warmed by the sounds of some individual wracked with ecstasy. On a bad day it would be chilled by the tortured screams of someone who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. But today the house was empty save for one, and the silence continued to permeate everything around him.

Sebastian Sinclair was tucked away in a corner of the loft in the library. His dark-haired head rested lifelessly against the tall black leather back of his favorite armchair. His body was cast in the deep shadows of the room, making his details almost impossible to distinguish should anyone enter the room. An ancient book, reeking of dust and aging paper, lay open in his lap, illuminated by a candelabra on the table to his side. He faced the window, though all he could make out were the clinging drops of rain running in tiny rivers down the glass. The clouds in the night sky only made things all the darker. A silent sigh passed through indifferent lips, boredom tormenting him as much as the silence now. After all, he was used to the silence.

He almost wished that his brother Riley would kick open the door with one or more of his many lovers and start playing his Barry White music on the stereo so loud that the floors would vibrate with the deep bass. But that wouldn’t be happening, because Riley was gone. He was in Hel- no. No, he was in Los Angeles at one of his apartments, helping those battered women and orphaned kids (despite Sebastian’s advice) as he always did. Nothing had changed. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine… except for the monotony gnawing away at his very bones. Sliding a bookmark into the heavy volume in his lap, he put it to the side to save for… for yet another rainy day.

He stood, straightened his plain black turtleneck, and headed for the door. He grabbed his black trench coat and gloves on the way out, a coil of razor wire tucked into his pocket as a final resort for amusement should he not find adequate pleasure in tormenting his new favorite pawn. If she was as predictable as she had been for the last few weeks, he would find her in the pub in town, fifth booth from the door, second from the corner, hidden behind various books, notes, and maps. A rare smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, though not entirely successful in its attempt. How he loved to play with them… the ones who so foolishly sought him out.