Chapter 1
Fate, as it turns out, has a sense of humor. Michael Santino was enjoying his night off from work, minding his own business on a stroll through the woods. Of course, when you’re a near 100 year old vampire, a stroll through the woods has a tendency to get real ugly, real fast. As such was the case when he stumbled upon a small group of werewolves out on a hunt. As fate would have it, his foot would pick that specific moment to find a very dry stick. With a resounding crack, the three turned their heads to Michael and snarled.
Oh... oh fuck. I..I should probably run now. he thought before turning tail and sprinting into the darkness.
His headstart didn’t last long, as there is almost nothing faster than a very hungry, very pissed off Werewolf. Within moments they had caught up with him and had him pinned to the ground. The sole being still standing walked over and crouched near the vampire’s head.
“Why you here?”
“Would you believe I was just out for a stroll? The woods are so lovely this time of night.”
“Lies. You look for pack. I know.”
“Honestly Cujo, I’m just out for a walk. Go ahead and kill me if it’ll make you feel better, see if I give a rat’s a-oofph,” as the standing Werewolf stomped on his chest.
“No talk, you go. Never come back.”
“Hey, that’s mighty kind of ya-hey! Watch the jacket. Thing’s worth more than your hide.”
“You need shut up. Have fun in Umbra.”
“Wait. Wha...”
However, an explanation would have to wait. At that moment, the werewolf that was talking grabbed him by the shoulder and blinked out of existence for a moment, then back sans a cocky vampire.
Fate has a sense of humor. Irony.
I drifted through the void of the Umbra for what felt like ages. There was the occasional source of light from a passing wraith and the constant pale glow of ethereal moonlight, but light seemed to function differently in the umbra; as if it too were alive. After telling myself not to panic, panicking anyway, and subsequently calming down, I began to wrack my brain for a solution to this predicament.
Ok, think Micky think. I know there has to be a way out. There’s always a way out. You just have to find a door. But what would a door look like? Hmm. Maybe.. its like looking out from inside a window or a mirror. Nothing to do but look. With that I began to float in no particular direction, trying to find the proverbial needle in the haystack.
After what felt like hours, I finally found something that looked promising. It seemed to be just under the surface of maybe a pond or underground spring. Well, here goes nothing.
Floating towards the opening I grit my teeth expecting to have to punch my way through. The sensation of going from incorporeal to solid and underwater isn’t one I’m soon to forget, but aside from that awkward feeling the Umbra seemed to offer no resistance. Either it wanted me gone as much as I did, or I’m simply that awesome... or I got really lucky. Eh, wouldn’t be the first time. “Better lucky than dead” my sire used to say. Taking a quick glance around me, I had wound up in some kind of large underground pond and there was no sign of a void behind me. Guess I’m stuck.
Cutting my losses, I swam to the shore and pulled myself out of the water. Now that I can take a look around I could tell I had wound up in some kind of subterranean cavern. The pool was strange though, there were hardly stalactites anywhere about the pool and it seemed to be illuminated by incandescent flowers and mushrooms. The room was small and enclosed save for a winding path that led to a tunnel, hopefully to the surface. Taking a moment to get my bearings I found a small, flattish stone that I used as an impromptu table. Unloading my pockets, I took quick stock of what I had to work with. One of the few things my family drilled into my head was adaptability. Guess that’s why a Gangrel picked me up.
Let’s see, one hybrid, blood-powered, waterproof phone. Oh how I love mage boons. One pair of shades. One M1911, holster, and 5 full mags. One good pair of gloves. My waterlogged jacket *grumble* and my -shake shake- oh thank Caine, one full flask of Whiskey! Guess I should make sure I’m still in order now.
Stepping away from the table and drying off my army jacket I moved towards the water. The surface was ludicrously clean and calm, like a mirror of sorts. I took a moment to take stock of myself. All 6 feet of me was still there. Still in the blue jeans, black boots and green shirt bunched to the elbows I had on yesterday. Beard was getting a tad scruffy but after 80 years of seeing the same thing, it was a welcomed sight. My normally shortish, shaggy copper-brown hair had been subdued by the water. Everything checking out I turned back to my stuff and began to stuff my pockets. Wringing out my jacket and taking a pull from my flask, I made for the tunnel.
Ok, whoever dug this tunnel was either drunk or stupid or fucking both! Up, down, up, down, up...
“Aww c’mon!”
Blocking my escape from the underground bathtub was a boulder that must have weighed a good quarter ton. Cursing, I managed to find a few stable roots to brace against and applied some elbow grease. After a bit of protesting from the boulder, and my arms, it came loose and flopped open, filling the tunnel with fresh air. Pulling myself out, I noticed that wherever I was, I was definitely not near the city. Lovely. Oh well, I’ll just call Seth and have... no bars? No 4G? Did I end up in Yellowknife or something? Looking around again, I tried to find something, anything that would indicate civilization. The smell of exhaust, a plane, trash. Nothing. Dammit, looks like I’m walking.
After exploring for a bit I came to realize that the forest blocked out the sky as effectively as being indoors. Only two thoughts came to mind: I was either in a primeval forest or dead. “Ow.” Ok, so not dead. Hopping a fallen tree I started to hear what sounded like a canine growl. Turning around I saw what looked like a wolf, sounded like a wolf, and walked like a wolf. But this was most definitely not a wolf. After all, wolves are made of flesh, while this thing was made of sticks and briars. The wolf-thing started walking towards me when I heard the sound of two more growls coming from behind me. Turning around I was greeted with the site of two more of the briar wolves, yeah lets call these things briar wolves. The wolf in front of me jumped and I managed to bring a forearm up just in time to have it be used as a chew toy. Staggering me and latching onto my arm, it was only dumb luck that let me see one of the briar wolves leap at my exposed back. Calling upon the blood gift of the Gangrel, my right hand quickly grew a set of razor sharp claws and not a moment too soon. Hooking the wolf under its jaw, I sunk my claws in and hurled the thing forward with as much force as I could muster. I was rewarded with a resounding crack as it slid to the ground in a pile of broken kindling.
With my claws out, I dug into the jaw of the wolf latched to my arm and ripped its top jaw clean off its body. It fell off with a whimper and started to ooze something reminiscent of sap. Must be what these things bleed. Turning to the last remaining wolf I was surprised to see it still standing its ground. Remembering of another gift I made eye contact with the beast and allowed the speech of the animals fill my mind. ‘Leave. Now. Or I’ll kill you too.’ Either it understood me, or it wised up because it took off running in the opposite direction and disappeared into the underbrush.
Taking a moment to assess the damage done I was quite happy to see that my arm hadn’t suffered too much. A couple of puncture makes from the teeth, but that was it. Dipping a finger in one of the wounds, I made an arrow on a nearby tree on the off chance I got lost. At least this way I could tell if I wound up in a circle. Because, its not like I’ve ever gotten lost in the woods before. Nope, never happened.
Walking on for another hour or so I managed to finally catch a break. The tree line thinned a bit and I could actually see the night sky. It was a simple thing, but it did wonders of good to simply know it was there. I was broken from my serenity by a blood curdling scream of terror from up ahead. But being a vampire, such things were not outside of a slow tuesday for me. I managed to ignore the cries until I heard what sounded like a lion’s roar, only angrier. Befuddled and bewildered, my legs had actually started to run before I have any idea that I’d started going forward. Oh well, no use fighting it I guess, I thought to myself. With a moment of thought and a burst of speed I took off towards the scream.
The last thing I remember before I frenzied was a chimera chasing a poor yellow pegasus.
*Perspective Change*
Running with as much speed as my body could muster, I galloped fruitlessly from the very angry, very hungry, and slowly gaining manticore. That is until a camo-coloured blur dive-tackled the poor thing to the ground and began to shred it with a pair of claws. “What in the world? Umm, thank you very much for...saving.. me?” Finishing with the manticore, the beast turned towards me, blood dripping from his mouth and claws, and sized me up, deciding whether or not I was worth the effort. Raising off his kill he snarled, slowly closed the distance. “Umm, please... please don’t hurt me mister. Please, please don’t kill me. I don’t wanna di-hi-hie!!” At this I burst out into tears, my normal persona of meekness replaced with true terror, which seemed to knock the monster out of his frenzied state.
“Where...ugh,” is all the creature could get out as the sun’s first rays begin to bathe the land in a warm glow. Grabbing him by his coat-looking thing, I began to drag him out of the Everfree and towards my house.
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Using oWoD as your vampire's base. I HAVE to watch now.
FREAKIN BRILLIANT!
Continue.
This gonna be good.
It seems good, but the end makes no damn sense. Why the hell would she drag him back to her cottage if she was just begging not to be eaten just a few seconds ago? Maybe if there had been something to cause this but as it stands it just comes out of the blue for no reason.
I've gotta say that your writing needs a lot of work. Just looking at the description alone gave me a big heads-up that I was in for a bit of a ride.
Right off the bat, here is a big red flag. Either your protagonist is a century[not centuries?]-old vampire, or he is an average guy. These are two mutually exclusive concepts, and run completely contrary to one another.
Right here is another red flag. Guy's just your average Joe-vampire who goes traipsing through the woods at night, on what I assume on his night off or following the end of his shift as a bouncer, loaded to the nines with a military grade handgun and no less than five magazines worth of ammunition on his personage.
Big red flag here. Dude can talk to animals too? Let's go back and run the checklist. 'Everyman?' Check. 'Vampire?' Check. 'Unnatural charisma and/or luck?' Check. 'Carries firearms and plenty of ammunition for no discernible reason?' Check. 'Has magic waterproof, blood powered phone?' Don't get me started on the logistics of blood as a power source. Oh, and check. 'Talks to and can be understood by animals?' Check. Okay, so right here we've got a bunch of Mary Sue/Gary Stu character archetype warning signs, and not much of any indication of any actual character.
This right here is a pretty big indicator of just how confident you are. Instead of inserting a horizontal rule and hoping that the reader is intelligent enough to pick up on a perspective change, maybe by means of mixing up the way you write during a certain character's perspective, you just flat out tell them the perspective changes. There's a golden rule of writing that *Perspective Change* breaks. The rule of showing rather than telling. Read back over this last point and you should already get a better idea of how to show instead of telling.
Now, ignoring some issues of grammar and punctuation—not that they are any less important to your writing—I'd like to point out a big problem with this story. Pacing. Things happen a bit too fast for this to be interesting. It's just Talk about character. Conversation. Thing. Other thing. Change from third person to first person mid-narrative. Garry Stu. Fight. Fight. Thing. Needless perspective change. In the 1900 words you wasted just making things happen in this chapter, you could have set up an actual narrative, and given the protagonist a bit more spitshine.
Speaking of waste, though, I want to go back to a point I made in the previous paragraph. The perspective change at the end of the chapter was either completely needless, or utterly wasted. It's literally two paragraphs after change in perspective and then it is already the end of the chapter. Instead of doing that and rushing through things in Fluttershy's perspective, you could have fleshed things out. Heck, Vaalintine made an incredibly great point. One moment she's terrified that he is about to eat her, but in the next, she abandons fear and drags him to her cottage. That's not only nonsensical, it runs contrary to her persona.
I hope you will take some of my advice and warnings to heart, and I wish you the best of luck in your future writing.
PS. What is this even a crossover of?
Wait wait wait. An old VtM Brujah in Equestria?
Dude! Why didn't I think of this?
This is a crossover with what?
lol
3435912 First off, let me thank you for the indepth response. I do admit it took of a bit on me and I wasn't sure how to reel it back in. Ill work on some pacing in the future. And as for the horizontal lines, it cut those out when I imported it form gdocs and didnt realize it till I had uploaded it. Ill fix that asap.
3436749>>3435912 As for what this is a crossover of, its from the Old World of Darkness games, specifically Vampire the Masquerade.
3435634 Ok yeah, that was a bit ooc for her but ill explain it next chapter.
3436467 Gangrel, not Brujah.
3438750
Oh right, that's the gangrel clan symbol. Geez my age is showing.
3438736......vampire the masquerade......now i feel like an idiot for not catching that up XD, okay lets dig in shall we
Gonna watch, gotta love the gangrel after all. Although there are some glaring things, several pointed out already, that are strange. but as far as VtM is concerned this is just Tuesday
Gotta say though my gargrel and yours would not get along very well
Well, write more.