Jack woke up.

He felt… wet.

He opened his eyes.

He was back in the square. But it was… wrong.

The cobbles were dark red, and the light from the sun was crimson against the run-down brick walls. There were puddles on the ground from the rain, and the water was inky and dark. There were no trees.

Jack looked around the square, eyes narrowed. Down the alleys that should have led to streets or intersections there was only a smoky red fog. The sky itself was dark and hollow next to that horrible red sun. He looked at the broken ground at his feet and saw…

Blood.

Jack saw it seeping up out of the cobbles. It spread across the square, mixing with the darkened water.

Jack stepped back in horror, splashing the thick liquid.

The blood was rising. It swiftly crept up above his ankles, then to his knees.

Jack growled and kicked his legs through the red tide, splashing blood and feeling a numbing warmth as it rose to his waist.

Jack waded to the entrance of the square, toward what used to be a street, but the current became swifter, and he felt himself get pulled back to the center, struggling against the current as the blood flowed up to his chest, unrelenting.

Jack knew he should be getting somewhere, but the current was pulling him back, draining him, like it was his own blood he was swimming through.

He felt the blood rise up above to his neck, and the cloying, metallic smell was overpowering. He kicked feebly to stay up above, but he felt heavy, and he it was hard to move. He swore he heard someone laughing, off in the distance.

As he started to sink under, he felt something brush against his leg. He looked down to see an old, dead tree branch, a bright grey in the strange red light, tapping gently against his side.

That small, dead piece of wood reminded him of the square he knew. The one where dead leaves crunched underfoot, where the rain swelled and made dirty puddles, where four twisted, gnarled trees just stood, defying man and nature and time and all attempts to remove them.

And as he fell under the bloody wave, Jack laughed, knowing that wherever he was, whoever was trying to trap him in this ancient square, they didn't know that this was his place. Not just a battleground, but a homefront.

And from the four corners of the square, gnarled, grey trees sprouted, grew, and took root, slowly draining the crimson lake from the square.

Jack could hear, on the edge of the red pool, something shriek in anger at this sudden development. Jack's smile widened. There was a simple joy in pissing off something that deserved to be pissed off.

As the twisted roots fed on the sanguine tide, Jack felt his feet touch solid ground as the blood flowed away, and he collapsed on all fours. He just knelt in the middle of the square, tired, bent, and so bloodied the word didn't do him justice.

But, like the trees, still unbroken.

Jack looked around the square. Blood still covered everything. The square looked… dulled, like the blood had taken something that made the place significant. A great deal had been washed away, and he couldn't help but feel that what was gone now had been important.

But the square was still there, and the trees were still there, and he was still there. Something had been lost, but, for now, he was still there.

And, for now, that was enough.

Jack fell to the ground with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Jack woke up. Again.

He opened his eyes and immediately narrowed them in the face of bright, fluorescent light.

As he slowly regained his vision, he noticed a few things.

First, he was on a metal table. It was cold.

Second, he was chained to the metal table. The shackles were cold too.

Third, he felt strange. Something about him was different. But it was subtle. Hard to define.

There was the sound of a door opening, and then…

"Ah, so you're awake at last, Mister Kiel."

AZRAEL.

The name blew through his mind at the speed of rage. He tried to move his head but found it was also restrained.

"Ah-ah-ah, don't get up. This is going to take a while, and it would be much easier on the both of us if you simply stayed put." Jack heard Azrael pace around the table. "Now you're probably noticing a few things by now."

Even on a metal table, at the mercy of this deadly, freakish enemy, Jack still felt gratified when his brain immediately came up with, "That I'm chained to a table? I know this may be your kink and all, but sorry man, I don't swing that way." His voice came out as a raspy croak though, as Azrael continued.

"You've woken far quicker than I'd anticipated. I didn't even have you fully locked down when you began to stir. But then, the Embrace does cause a few remarkable changes, beyond the obvious."

Jack's snarky response was overruled by the rest of his mind as he thought, "What Embrace? What changes?" He didn't realize he'd said these words aloud until Azrael laughed.

"Oh-ho! Quite a fast healer, I see. Most can't speak for at least an hour after they wake. Many not even for a few days! But then…" And here Jack heard Azrael's voice lower in annoyance. "You are rather good at running your mouth, aren't you?"

Jack was about to enhance this reputation before Azrael continued. "But to answer your question, the Embrace is a unique process in where one, such as I, takes another, such as you, and gifts them with a new existence. And thus, the other, in this case you, takes on a few significant changes. Can you hear it, Mister Kiel? Come now, I know you have some imitation of intellect."

"Smug bastard," thought Jack. "What is he talking about? Hear what?"

"I'll give you a hint," said Azrael, his voice much closer now. "Listen… for what's no longer there."

Jack mentally quirked an eyebrow. "What's the hell is he talking about? What's no longer the-"

And that's when he caught on.

What's no longer there. That strange feeling he'd been having.

He couldn't feel his heartbeat. Or his breath.

In fact, he realized that he hadn't been breathing at all for the last minute.

"Oh, fuck."

Azrael laughed again, and this time it had the edge of maniacal malice in it. "Oh, very good! I see you just puzzled it out! Yes, Mister Kiel. Your heart has stopped beating. Along with that, as we speak, your internal organs are becoming atrophied, necrotic. Don't worry, you won't need them anymore. As a matter of fact, you'll no longer need to breathe, eat, drink or even take a dump, since you are, for all clinical purposes…"

Jack could nearly hear his widening grin.

"Dead."

Jack's mind wheeled as alarms went off inside his head. "No. Nonononono this isn't right, this isn't happening."

Azrael laughed again. "Your face is priceless! Oh dear god, I wish I'd taped this, the rest would've been rolling on the floor…"

A small part of Jack thought, "The rest?" though it was quickly overruled by the bigger thought.

"How the fuck am I still alive?!"

Azrael continued to laugh. "Oh, I assure you, you're quite dead. Which leads to the next big piece of news!" He cackled, honestly cackled with glee. "You see, the Embrace, as I mentioned, turns one such as you into a creature like myself. And while I am far older than you, and you're just a neonate, we are both children of Caine. We are both… vampires."

The word echoed around the room. By all rights, it should have shattered windows, thundered, caused a dramatic flash of lightning. But it just bounced around the room, and in Jack's mind.

"You're fucking with me."

"I am not, Mister Kiel. And you'd do well to remember that you're chained to the table, so it may be difficult to kill me right now. Especially since I'm already dead."

"No, there's no such thing as vampires, they're a myth, a-"

"Legend, Mr. Kiel? And how can you explain what you've seen me do tonight? Grow fangs? Strike harder than any mortal assailant? Move faster than any mortal athlete? Repair a three-inch-deep gouge in seconds? Good shot, by the way."

Jack tried to turn to face him, and was denied by the restraints again. "If you're so damn powerful, why didn't you just kill us all yourself back in the Square?"

"Quite simply, I'm not allowed to. It's a covenant all Kindred… that's what we vampires call ourselves, by the way… It's a covenant we all share, called the Masquerade."

Jack snorted at this. "You just have to make everything sound pretentious, don't you?"

Azrael ignored him and went on. "You see, many mortals would have the same reaction you did if they knew there were vampires. It would be the Inquisition all over again, and that was no picnic, according to the very few Kindred who lived through it. And of course nowadays you have satellite, and infrared, and machine guns and nuclear weapons. It'd be a disaster. So we work in secret."

"What are you, the bloody Illuminati?" Jack grunted as he pulled at the chains.

"Close enough. We use more indirect means of control. We have allies, retainers, influence. The Angels for example. Cat's paws, every one, and beyond knowing I am vicious and bloodthirsty, they don't know my supernatural nature. If any were to find out, they would be eliminated. And now, there's you."

"What?"

Azrael's voice was dripping with terrifying glee. "An interesting thing about vampires is that while we drink mortal blood, our own blood gives us various interesting abilities, such as the speed and strength I displayed earlier, along with a healing ability, though that takes time. But one of my personal favorites is that of the blood bond. Essentially, whoever drinks of my blood must obey me. Many of the Angels are bound in this way, though far fewer since you valiant defense. And now, so are you, since it is my blood that has Embraced you. You must obey my commands. And I know just the command for you, Mr. Kiel."

Now Azrael finally leaned into view, his face dark and sinister against the fluorescent light. "I'm going to make you torch Rhine Street. Burn it to the ground, and slaughter every single man, woman and child. I will show you, and the city, what happens to those who defy my will!"

Jack immediately felt his mind burn with hatred as the Azrael's command took hold. And it wasn't at Azrael. The thought of Rhine Street burning, of the deaths of his closest friends and neighbors, this was his sole purpose as Azrael moved to release him. He relished the idea.

And Jack felt something… rise from within him. It was bestial, raw, simplistic. It wanted to kill and devour and dominate all before it. Jack felt, rather than saw, his vision go red as the bestial feeling aimed itself at Rhine Street, howled in glee…

And stopped, held back by twisted roots, held in by ancient cobbles of a place that was older than he was. It snapped, snarled, clawed at the spirit of a place that Jack called home, but could not break through, could not hunt those its keeper protected.

But the beast was still off of its chain, and it couldn't be contained unless it was sated. So the roots turned the beast upon the one who would threaten its keeper's home.

And as Azrael released Jack, Jack released the beast, and Azrael shouted in surprise as Jack's teeth lengthened and lunged at his throat…

Jack woke up for the third time that night, feeling the rain on his face.

He groaned and sat up, looking around.

He was still in the room Azrael had taken him to. Though it could hardly be called a room anymore.

The floor was cracked with impact marks and craters. Someone, or something, had torn a hole in one wall, through which could be seen a rain-clouded vista of the city. The metal table was in a different corner of the room, overturned and dented beyond repair. Jack looked at his hands to see them covered in blood, and studded with stone chips, metal shards and buckshot shrapnel. He looked down farther to see an honest-to-god wooden stake sticking out of his belly.

"O-kay…"

He stood carefully, but felt no pain. Even when he pulled the stake out it just felt like the area was numb, and even as he watched the hole sealed over with new skin.

"Yeah… that's fucked up."

He turned to look around the room and finally spotted Azrael. To say he was not in good shape would be along the same lines as saying that the Grand Canyon is a small divot. His white motorcycle leathers were bloodied and ripped to shreds. His face was a mess, with a broken nose, disfigured cranium and aeven a few missing teeth. He was affixed to the wall by virtue of what appeared to be two legs of the metal table, torn off and stabbed through his shoulders and… and was he missing a leg!?

Oh, and Jack's machete was sticking out of his chest.

Jack walked toward the remains of the… goddamn it, vampire. If he had participated in this train wreck, if he could do that to someone else, then he may as well accept that fucking fairy tale. Thankfully, despite the amount of damage around him, and noise that had probably come along with it, it looked like no one had investigated. "Though in this city, no one would give a damn anyway," Jack thought bitterly.

He reached forward to pull his machete free and then leaped back in surprise when the corpse twitched!

Jack fought back bile rising form his throat as Azrael raised a misshapen arm and pawed feebly at the metal spikes in his shoulders, tugging at the twisted edges. Finally, he gave up and stared at Jack, his eyes seething with hatred, and growled, haltingly, "You… you will suffer! I… am your… sire! I… will … be obeyed! Release… me!"

Again, Jack felt something in him try to comply, something try to pull his master down and beg forgiveness… but that thought was again pushed aside by twisted roots, and Jack simply stared back and shook his head.

Azrael cursed and spat and struggled against the pinning metal. "Insolent whelp! How can you… possibly resist me!? You… are an… infant compared to me!"

Jack ignored him and searched the room. He found his remaining belongings in a tray against the far wall as Azrael continued his rant. "And how!? HOW!? How can… how can you… possess the powers of Fortitude!? And how can… you not be… wounded at all!? HOW!?"

"Az-hole, I really haven't a goddamn clue what the fuck you are talking about. And I don't care." Jack answered as he continued searching the room. "According to you, I'm now something out of a crappy comic book, a fucked-up fairy tale. And what's worse is I actually believe you!" Jack found a small refrigerator that had been broken open during the fighting. Inside were several blood packs. He took them and stuffed them in a crumpled duffel, found buried in the debris.

"I had no goddamn issue with you, before you tried to burn my people, my home." He stood up and turned to face Azrael, still feebly struggling on the wall. "If the little I know about vampires is true, you're probably immortal. You have infinite time. You could've tried doing things the peaceful way, the hard way, try to build things up instead of tearing them down and ruling the ashes." Jack got up in Azrael's face. "But you attacked us, sent your goons, tried to kill us!" He grabbed the handle of his machete. "Well, congratulations, you succeeded! I'm dead, thanks to you!"

Jack twisted the handle, eliciting a scream from Azrael as the blade tore his heart. "By whatever gods that are still bothering to listen, I wish I knew how to end your miserable, fucked-up existence right now!" He yanked the machete out, causing Azrael to gasp in either pain or relief, though Jack couldn't tell. "I don't know shit about vampires. Just the crap about garlic, mirrors, running water, crosses, all that story stuff. The only thing I know that is consistent, that even you are probably afraid of, is sunlight."

Jack turned to the hole in the wall. The sky, while still dark, was starting to show signs of a new day coming. "So I think I'll just leave you here, with this big hole in the wall to keep you company."

Azrael's bloodied, puffy eyes widened. Jack realized that this was the first time he'd seen Azrael afraid.

"No! No, don't! I'll do anything, swear a life boon, give you money, power, any-"

Jack whirled around and drove his fist into Azrael's jaw, feeling the bone crack beneath the force of the blow.

"You have killed me. You have threatened my home. You have harmed my friends. You have tried to force me to kill those I love. You have taken the sun from me." Jack said, passionlessly, as Azrael's eyes spun with pain. "Nothing you might offer could even be trusted."

He turned away, scooping up the duffel of blood packs.

"And nothing you could offer would ever be enough."

Jack looked over the edge and saw the twisted remains of a fire escape leading down to a back alley, among the rubble from the wall. He looked over his shoulder to the broken form of Azrael.

"So, Azrael, since you consider yourself an angel of death, surely you don't fear the light of heaven?"

Jack started climbing down as Azrael began to scream. Loudly.