#Lore24 – Entry #280 – Sentinel City by Night #6 – The Rough Part of Town
From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator
“Nothing was clicking into place. I’d been to three of the four previous body dump sites, and I had no new revelations or insights into the killer’s nature, to say nothing of their identity. Granted, it had only been a day, but still.
Tonight, I’d started out immediately for the last of the sites, the second in the chain of killings, the Steel Shark Tavern, a bar on the far side of Sentinel City that tended toward the biker crowd. Was feeling antsy tonight, realized halfway there that I needed to grab something to sate my thirst soon. Sometimes forget to feed when I get absorbed in a case. Careless of me, maybe dangerous. Will get it taken care of.
No sooner had I pulled into the parking lot of the location did I see a body go flying through the front door. It was that kind of place. I could hear the shouts and sounds of fighting inside over the music. The guy who had been tossed out got to his feet and reset his jaw, then headed back inside after pulling a knife. Sure enough, as he disappeared into the doorway, I saw the distinct aura that revealed him as a ghoul. Wondering what mess I’d just become witness to, I checked my gun to make sure it was loaded. I tended not to use the little Smith & Wesson .38 often, but better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it, right?
The ghoul was back outside in a heap a moment later, another biker, also a ghoul, sprawled on top of him, the first ghoul’s knife stuck into the second’s back, though not fatally. The door flew open again, this time with a mountain of a woman charging out, two more ghouls firmly held in her huge arms. She roared, tossing them into the growing pile of leather-clad ghoulish bikers, and stepped out of the way as a fifth ghoul was shoved out by another woman, smaller than the first, but still no stranger to a brawl judging by the way she handled herself and her victim.
Didn’t escape me that these two were full-blown vampires, either. The pack of ghouls surged toward the pair, the one plucking his knife out of his companion on the way. The two women fought together as if they’d done it for ages, probably had for all I knew, covering each other and fighting almost as one. The mountainous red-head was all about power, like a charging bull or a rhino, while the pink-haired one was all about finesse and technique, moving like a big predatory cat. I had decided just to stay in the car for now; no sense getting involved in a mess like that if I didn’t need to.
The two vamps made quick work of the ghoul gang, breaking no few bones as they fended off the ravenous bunch and quickly forced them to retreat to their bikes, their limited reserves of their master’s blood having been spent. With the busted up ghouls on the retreat, I finally stepped out of my car and approached the two vampires, who were busy jeering and taunting the fleeing gang. They both whipped around on me in an instant, sensing my presence, still pumped up and ready for a fight. I quickly introduced myself and complimented their display, though they were anything but impressed. I noted that the pink-haired woman, who would eventually introduce herself as Catherine Ramos, had peculiar eyes, yellow and reminiscent of a feline’s, which she quickly covered with a pair of shades, her hair generally wild, almost like a lion’s mane, while her companion, Anita Winters, had less obvious animalistic features but for her larger build and perhaps a discoloration and peculiar pebbling of her skin not unlike the thick hide of the rhino I had compared her to previously.
Though our conversation was not the most civil, I would nonetheless join them for a drink in the bar, once they’d had their adulations for tossing out the gang, of course. I had been looking for a meal tonight anyway, so why not? They were working for Grim Jacobs as his Hounds, and were likewise of clan Gangrel, as I had already surmised. The bikers they’d tossed out weren’t locals, were likely Sabbat, so they said. Catherine swore they had the stink of Lasombra blood in them but wouldn’t give me more details as to how she knew that, though I sensed something deeper behind her obvious distaste, outright hatred of whoever she had in mind.
I informed them of my reasons for visiting the Shark this night, but they had little in the way of useful information for me. They weren’t around when the body had been dumped, said they usually kept troublemakers in check, hadn’t noticed any suspicious types around till the ghouls had picked a fight tonight. Got the impression they didn’t much care for me, and even less so once they had learned of my own bloodline. Not the first time I’d experienced such mistrust, certainly wouldn’t be the last. Not that I cared, really; everyone had their prejudices, and my clan certainly had a reputation. I think I’m rather a positive example personally, but that is neither here nor there.
Still, after I had excused myself, I surveyed the dump site, and then left the bar; I had managed to secure a proper apartment and would be moving in tonight. If I had time, I would see about paying Delia Emmerson a visit, though I suspected I would be far too busy with arranging my case notes tonight. Priorities and all that.”