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Kitchener by Night: Damien’s Chronicle

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Kitchener by Night: Damien’s Chronicle

PostitusPostitas higgins 18:53 28. Juul 2006

Olen mõnda aega ühte e-posti teel mängu mänginud ja mõtlesin täna need meilid ühte faili kokku koguda. Siis mõtlesin, et võiks nad siis juba siia ka postitada. Hoiatan juba ette, et peatükid tulevad harva, ent see-eest pikad. Kuna tõlkida ei viitsi, siis on nad ka inglisekeelsed.

Sündmused leiavad aset ühes Kanada väikelinnas nimega Kitchener. Lähem info siin.
Minu tegelasest võib lähemalt lugeda siit.
Damieni bändide loomingut näen mina sellisena. Kõiki sealseid mp3esid on nende autorid netis tasuta jaganud, niisiis autoriõigusega ei tohiks probleeme olla.

Kogu lugu saab alguse 5. juunil 2006.
Kui midagi segaseks jäi, siis settinguks on World of Darkness.
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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PostitusPostitas higgins 18:54 28. Juul 2006

Prelude

Tonight was the night where the gig over at a place called Phil's was happening. Phil's was a nightclub that catered to the college and university crowd, and it was an easy enough place to get gigs at. It didn't pay as well as the Voodoo Lounge (a much more upscale place w/ a nominal sized stage compared to Phil's) but it paid nonetheless. Earlier on today Damien had joined his band, the House of Bishops, in doing a sound check. It smelled faintly of a kind of sewer smell, as if it had backed up just a little - enough to make a stink. Hopefully it did not stink like that this evening...

Damien walked up the street towards Phil's and looked over the beginnings of the line-up waiting outside. Already the opening act had begun, who were some local foursome who somehow managed to get to actually play somewhere (Damien's own opinion of their talent was not good).

No one seemed to recognize him as he walked up to the entrance, but he supposed that was pretty normal. Up ahead was the entrance with the ape of a man who was the bouncer. Nearby that door was Michelle. Her eyes lit up with recognition and happiness when she saw Damien coming. With her was their mutual friend Angela. She stood in place, eyeing all the Goth types who stood in line with some trepidation until Michelle had motioned towards Damien, alerting her to his arrival.

Damiens pace was rather slow when he took a last puff from his half-smoked cigarillo and flicked it to a dumpster he barely glanced at. He was wearing purple sneakers and kind of baggy dark pants with too many pockets on them. While the pants seemed a bit short, the length was made up by a netshirt with sleeves couple of inches too long. On the top of everything was a sleeveless T-shirt with DEAD DOG written all over it in white caps. Closing up to the girls Damien, being somewhat careful with piercings on eyebrows, lifted the wrap-on goggles to his forehead revealing his blood-red irises.

Damien faintly smiled to Michele. "Nice touch," said Michele in French laying her finger on one of the spikes which prickled out from Damiens lower lip, interlocking her finger with Damiens while doing so. "You haven't wore those in ages," she added. Damien just smirked and eyed Angela. He was quite surprised of seeing the kid here. Although smart as hell, she was maximum eleven or twelve years old. At least in Damien's opinion. He couldn't recall of actually asking her.

"So, you found a way of seeing my gig without your folks suing me?" smirked Damien at Angela, speaking in German.

Angela made a small smile and held up an I.D. card. Michele commented as soon as she noticed the I.D., "Sixteen this night. Happy birthday, Angela!"

Well, that was a dump... Damien was rather shocked, but also glad he'd been smart enough no to mention any numbers in his previous sentence. Yet he smiled, hiding his major misjudgement behind a clever smirk.

Angela laughed a little and said, "I want to see you play. I never seen a band play before." Her eyes had a look that said she was imagining it already and it looked rather child-like in it's innocence.

"Better lose the puppy dog eyes if ya want to get in, girlie..." another voice said. Female. Damien recognized the timbre immediately. It was Vivian. The nympho.

Sure enough, Vivian's hand was hung inside the crook of some dude's elbow. She smiled sweetly at Damien and rolled her eyes at Michele. In that moment, Damien's vision had seemed to shift ever so slightly - into something like a blurred landscape. It kind of reminded him of that movie Lord of the Rings when that Hobbit put the ring on but this was way more subtle but yet more fucked up than that. During that seeming vision, Damien saw Vivian as something else. Her shape remained almost like herself, but there was something different about her. It was like she had extra arms - but those arms were rather not like human arms. It was like a spider's arms. More than that, Damien felt an aura of real threat coming from her.

"YYYEEEEAAAAHHHHH!" came a yell from Damien's left flank. The vision stopped abruptly. The feeling of threat was gone. It was as if it never happened.

Damien blinked his eyes and loosened grip, when he realised that he held Micheles hand too tight. He was sure Michele would notice that something wasn't right... Ditching every possible exponation for this hallucination, Daniel tried to look normal and looked to Michele's eyes.

Michele smirked widely and gripped Damiens hand in return. "Rowr," replied Michele with a spark in her eyes.

The voice belonged to Leroy. He was dressed up in some costume like always, and this time it was of a hospital patient wearing hospital clothes, but with blood drenched all over it. He wore his street clothes underneath it. Upon his head was a knife through the skull gag, except Leroy had added some dried up gel-like substance that was colored like brain matter that looked as if it was dropping out of his head. Written in fake blood on his forehead was the word 'RELEASE'.

"Man, that band really sucks..." Leroy said to Damien as he came walking up to them. "I wouldn't let my enemies listen to that. It's beyond War Crimes. So what's up, Damien? Ready to get on stage sooner than expected? I think the manager wants us to crash that band's stage time."

"Poet's right, let's kick them off the stage before the crowd does the job for us..." said Michele.

Damien seemed rather dizzy, but he was starting to collect himself: "Uh... Sure, whatever you say..." and started to move to the entrance, wiping cold sweat from his temple. Luckily the wrap-on goggles proved to be quite an effective cover. "Yea, let's get inside so we don't spoil our fans' surprise about your outfit," he said to Leroy, forcing a smile on his face. Daniel stopped and turned to Angela: "Hey, every band member can take a single friend in for free... C'mon, I'll see if I can get two today. It's your birthday after all."

They started to make their way into the club. Daniel needed to throw some cold water into his face.

Angela looked on with that trepidation only she could muster in a moment's notice. She thought trouble was brewing, and so Michele told her, "Nothing to worry about, sis."

They followed Damien towards the club's interior. Leroy had pointed to the rear of the place and muttered, "Let's go that way. Back door is best."
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PostitusPostitas higgins 20:06 5. Aug 2006

Around the back of the building was the back door. It had been open because a teenage kid was throwing out the trash into a compactor. The kid wore a dirty kitchen apron and had turned around slightly when he heard them approaching.

"Go on in", the kid said, apparently recognizing Leroy while shrugging and thumbing towards the back door. He looked at Damien and nodded, seemingly recognizing him as well.

The back door led into a short hallway that had a door on the side that was the manager's office. The hallway continued and opened up to the kitchen area and the freezer and fridge. There was no bouncer here and the kitchen staff looked at the intruders with momentary but disconnected interest. They went back to their work.

Just around the corner from the kitchen was where it continued past the dish washing area and then out to the main club area. Buffering the two areas was the wait staff's station. It was here that the House of Bishop's manager, John Levine, was talking with another man who Damien recognized as the manager. Unfortunately, Damien forgot his name.

The opening band (the one that sucked) was not playing, and apparently had not been for some minutes. Damien immediately recognized it to be the break time that bands took in between sets of songs. Thus, people could actually talk and be heard for the time being.

John turned slightly as Damien and party as came towards them. He wore a frown and said almost straight away, "It seems that no one told me that this was an all-ages night. Tsiribiribimm sake!"

The manager had also turned as well. His face was impassive but in a resolved set. "So we raise the price of the non-alcoholic drinks."
John had just shook his head and looked at the crowd sullenly.
"So that's why no one blocked me from coming in..." Angela muttered.

Sure enough, looking at the way of the crowd, there was a fair amount of teenage kids present. In fact, the whole place was packed.

Damien knew that there would be a stamping system in place, where people would be asked for I.D. if they had no stamp, and if found of legal age, would then be stamped on the hand with black-light ink.

Leroy looked to Damien with a smirk on his face and nodded to the stage.

Damien looked on the stage and saw that keyboard player Roger had connected the wires already. He seemed very focused and was checking from his notebook that the equalisers settings were exactly like we tuned them in soundcheck. He had painted his usual upside down pentagram on his right eye paying homage to the heavy band KISS he liked for some obscure reason.

"I'll be right up," answered Damien to Leroys glance, "don't want to make a bathroom break during the gig."

"You girls probably can find a nice place to watch us yourselves," said Damien letting go of Micheles hand and started to walk towards the bathroom. The last thing he heard was the hurring steps and Joel's tempered voice: "Hey! Who the hell told me the wrong time?" ... "Nonono, we're crashing their...."

Leroys last words faded as Damien walked into the bathroom. He went to the employees bathroom, not the public one, glosing the door behind him.

"What the tsiribiribimm was that hobbit thing about?" thought Damien. He finally let himself to focus on that somewhat, though he shouldn't have. He should have been focusing on the gig.

"What the TSIRIBIRIBIMM was that hobbit thing about?" thought Damien with more serious effort. He hasn't been smoking! ... Well... He has, but not anything that would produce SUCH an effect. Damien pulled out his silvery box with "Coffin nails" engraved into it and poured its contents onto his palm. He usually carries two different flavors of cigarillos with him, experimenting with the mixed taste of the middle ones. Guess that combination proved to be the one he'll never try again... Recognising cigarillo brands could prove quite difficult for an untrained eye, because they don't usually brand them like cigarette manufacturers. But noticing minor color differences was a piece of cake to Damien. He sorted out the ones he valuated to having least contact with the others and flushed the rest.

He put the coffin nails back to his pocket, turned off his cell phone and threw fistfuls of ice cold water to his face taking a deep look in the mirror.

As he stared at himself in the mirror, Damien heard someone walking towards the bathroom door, and he could hear this apart from the rest of the other background noises. All on it's own his hearing had focused on this as if it was of some importance. Longer than Damien had expected, the time it took between hearing the footsteps and that of the door opening was too long for normalcy (all in all, it had been about more than a few seconds - but being able to hear the footsteps above the background noise in and of itself was quite a feat - even without a live band playing).

When the door opened, Damien saw who it was who came inside. It was one of the band members of the opening act. It was a 19 or 20 year old man dressed in black clothing, and he wore something of a large silver cross on a metal chain around his neck. His hair was dark brown and was long in the back, but not overly so. His eyes and slack expression spoke of someone who was really and truly stoned or high at the moment. This guy was a poster child for a Toni Iommi reject.

Then Damien smelled him - and this was above and beyond normality once again. Damien identified a strong smell of what he somehow knew as a mix of LSD and Hashish. It was almost like the smell was coming from each and every one of his open pores of his skin. That smell was in his hair and clothes, too. He also identified something else, too. A sickness. This man was going to die very soon. By instinct (Damien guessed) he could identify more if only he could get closer and sniff at him.

The man was at the threshold of the doorway and stood in place. He swayed back and forth a little and stared at Damien. Weakly, the man said, "Hey man... You're in that band. Like your stuff... Uhhh... want a hit?"

Well, that was a totally fucked up trip for no apparent reason. At least it seemed like one in some aspects. Daniel had tried to resist it so far, but the symptoms didn't seem to go anywhere. What if he succumbed to it? For how long would the trip last? Damien didn't want to risk being knocked out when he was supposed to be on the stage, nor did he want shaky hands.

"No, I'm good," he replied to the thug and fearing the trip to intensify, Damien purposefully breathed out when pushing past him. "Gotta go to the stage," he glanced the stoned guy and began to move to the stage.

Nothing but mineral water today, Damien, he thought to himself.
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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PostitusPostitas higgins 16:53 12. Aug 2006

So Damien had left the washroom area and left to rejoin his band mates near the stage. Along the way Damien had recognized some familiar faces - some more intimately than others perhaps - and there was the ones he did not know (the ratio of unknowns to knowns was growing out of hand... which was a good sign of impending fame). They had been seated at a table but now were presently standing: Joel and Leroy. The exception was Roger, who was still seated and fiddling with an open electronic breadboard via soldering iron, soldering coil, and intent upon his work. Most likely he was repairing something rather than wanting to try some new gadget.

Joel eyed the opening band members, who were presently wandering around the stage. Leroy was behind her and trying to remain hidden. He spotted Daniel and waved him over. Joel smirked at Daniel but remained focused on the other band. She had her bass guitar in hand (those being often much heavier than a regular six string).

Damien had felt nothing unusual now: no strange sights nor smells greeted him now. In fact, Daniel felt rather well rested and alert, as if a second wind had gradually snuck up and overcame him without him realizing it.

However, when he looked over somewhere else, Damien had spotted Vivian once more. Her date was not in sight. Her eyes met his at the same time, and Vivian smiled a full teeth-revealing smile. It would have been rather warm except that his heartbeat rose in rapidity, the irises of his eyes narrowed in to gaze upon her with razor sharp clarity, and he had this urge to run.
Run.
RUN!
RunLeapKill! KillTheHatedSPIDEREnemy!

The moment passed. Vivian remained in her place, still as far away as she had been, and still smiling at him. His bracelet, the one fashioned into a spider, felt awful. Damien swore that it had moved. Stirred, maybe. Like something that woke up but then went back to sleep...

Damien felt a hand on his shoulder. He heard a female voice say, "We need to talk..."
He recognized it is Amber.

This whole evening just didn't make sense in any possible scenario Damien could think of. He felt sick, stoned and was covered with cold sweat. Damien just eyed Amber with a somewhat empty look and tried to pull himself together saying "Oh, sure."
Finally, he managed that.

Amber glanced around for a moment and then blinked. "Oh. I guess you're going to play?" She then furrowed her eyebrows in a frown and then said, "Nevermind that. You're in danger. There's something happening to you, don't you feel it? Perhaps you're seeing things or people who aren't there? A string of bad luck, perhaps? How do you feel?"

In some ways Damien was glad to see Amber... to hear that she may have some idea what's going on with him. But then again... the same thing was rather disturbing. Her knowing so accurately about Damiens condition meant only one thing -- whatever she was going to say, she was probably right.

"What the tsiribiribimm?" came a voice beyond Amber. It was Joel, Damien's bass player, and she had a disbelieving and disgusted look on her face. "What are you on about?" Joel asked Amber. She looked to Damien without waiting for an answer from Amber and asked, "Coming? Let's go... leave this nutjob."

"Frankly I feel like shit," Damien said to Amber, moving on to Joel. "There was this guy puffing things in the toilet, but I really had to go... Maybe I got a percentage of his hit, I dunno... I shouldn't be allergic to things." Damien talking pace was rather slow and he ended the allergy part with a confused shrug.

"Buuuut... I thought I'd be able to ride through the show regardless," he eyed Amber saying that last thing with questioning look, not really wanting to ask directly because Joel was there. "It's not like we're going to play forever, those kids are going bed soon enough..."

Amber scowled and cast her gaze to the stage. "Yes... that. Play your songs." Amber looked to Joel and asked, "If he can't make it all the way tonight then get him to me. You may see him faint or something like that. I'll be outside..."

Joel whistled a short tune that was from the Outer Limits theme song after Amber had left and gave some distance away from them. Joel motioned up to the stage. "Let's make some noise..."
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PostitusPostitas higgins 20:58 29. Aug 2006

Chapter One: Revelations

The other band had not given much of a fight when the House of Bishops took over. It reminded Damien of those wanna-be's who wanted the coolness of claiming to be in a band, but when it came time to get serious, they were interested in smoking and shooting the breeze rather than playing. The opening act's attitude was like that. Also, not to mention that the vocalist was way too stoned to do anything...

So the House of Bishops played a little early. As soon as it became very apparent that a capable band was playing something very interesting, there was something of a surge of people to the dance floor. They were mostly college or university students (either in Summer classes or riding out the summer until Fall classes started) but some were local youth and even some older people. What made this night something apart from the other nights was that it was an all age night, so there was a good mix of youth in the fold. It was easy to spot them - the teenagers were the ones who dressed up goth to the extreme.

Damien also sensed that there was an urge to let some energy loose tonight. These people WANTED to let off some steam.

So it began that they played their numbers. Throughout the night Damien had begun to feel a connection with the audience. It had started with the usual feedback loop process that most musicians get: audience digs music which in turn inspires musician which then allows audience to dig it even more, etc. This had grown steadily over the gig's progression that by the fifth tune, Damien was beginning to see streams of colour pouring forth among the audience and into him as well. Instinctively he knew it was that feedback mechanism at work - what was different was that he could SEE it. The best thing was that it didn't freak him out but had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It made Damien happy. Really and truly happy. Soon enough it felt better than any sexual climax he ever had because it was ongoing. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

Damien's experience dwindled down fairly quickly at the last number. He was certain that he carried his end of things during all the songs like he always did, but perhaps there was something more? Judging by the look that his band members gave him as they began to unplug, something had been amiss or strange.

"What the tsiribiribimm was that?" Joel whispered towards Damien as she gathered her bass guitar's cord. "It was like you were channeling Bonham or Keith Moon or somebody dead..."

Leroy clapped Damien on the back. "Oh yeah! OH YEAH! That shit was the BOMB! Did you see those fuckers jump all over themselves when you did your solo? Where the hell have you been hiding that shit? Damn!" Leroy didn't really wait for an answer but had sauntered off a little to collect his mikes and things. He was chuckling to himself and gave Damien happy glances.

"Shit.." Joel said as she looked in a direction beside Damien. In that way was Vivian, but something was different about her. She seemed to have gained weight over her frame? Yes, she was definitely fatter than before when she had said hello to him. Something like... 20 pounds? How was that possible? Her date was missing.

"Damien... that was your best show ever!" Vivian said with visible energy. "What are you doing tonight? Whatever it is, it can wait. I'll show you a good time!"

"Thanks, Viv. Glad you liked it," said Damien deassembling his drum cardane. Clubs usually have their own drumsets to save everyone the trouble of transporting a whole set, but most of those sets have one bass drum only. Thus having drum cardane is essential for most metal bands. "Buuuut... I already have more ladies to entertain tonight than I could handle, so..." he smirked, surprised of how the gig cured his miserable condition so perfectly. "Sorry to disappoint you, but a promise is a promise." Damien ended that last sentence looking past Vivian to see if he spots Michele and Angela in the crowd.

Vivian grinned suddenly, turned her heel, and walked towards the exit door, but she had to navigate her way through a crowd first. She had said nothing but the way she had just grinned like that was creepy. Vivian usually had something to say. She was very aggressive about her sex addiction. This was out of character.

Damien spotted Michele and Angela easily - they had been standing at the side of the stage. Angela had been rubbing the inside of her ears and Damien didn't need to be able to read lips to know that she constantly asked 'What?' whenever someone talked to her.

Michele waved a hello to him as Damien put away his drums. She stayed off the stage to let the next band set up their things. She was always thoughtful that way. Someone who did not have a clue about that sort of thing did come on stage, though. It was Amber. She had stood on a guitar cord that someone had been pulling away at in order to coil around his (a miscellaneous nightclub worker's) arm.

Damien waved them back with a smile, keeping intense eye contact with Michele when he clipped the suitcase shut. He also picked four drumsticks which were totally toast and threw two of them in the crowd, while handing the other two to Angela. He was as happy as ever, not even bothering to think of the creepy Vivian. That was all past. That was none of his business.

"I'll be in the back," Damien said to Michele and Angela when he had noticed Amber. He picked up his heavy jet-back plastic suitcase, checking if the crashes were his or not. They weren't.

"All right then... Now, how about that talk?" Amber asked.
"Sure, I'll lead the way," replied Damien to Amber, leading her to backstage looking for someplace private.
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PostitusPostitas higgins 18:37 3. Sept 2006

Amber followed Damien backstage, where they found an empty office space. It was the manager's office, and it was the only one there in plain view. Amber had taken a moment to look both ways and then close the door. When she turned back to Damien, she spoke.

However, the words came out like it came from a man with an unearthly deep voice. It also sounded like to came through a thick wall. Moreover, it sounded like someone had been playing a vinyl record slowly and backwards, as if someone did it manually and on purpose. It was utterly unintelligible. However, Amber's last words came out normally, and they were: "... did you understand what I just said? Did my voice sound my normal pitch?"

Damien´s otherwise calm expression melted down to a mixture of "Yuck!" and "WTF!?"

Amber tapped her chin. "Now that's strange. Hmmm. Nevermind, then. Answer my former questions, then. Has your perceptions been altered in any way? Have you been seeing things that aren't really there? Ghosts, maybe? Anything at all. Don't lie to me, Damien. I know something is happening to you. So spill it. Talk to me."

Damien stared Amber with somewhat shocked and empty look.

"Damien," spoke Amber his name aloud.

"Whoa," said Damien as Ambers voice kicked him out from this half-trance. "Erm... Well, yeah, the whole night has been like some fucked up ecstasy trip. Blurring visons, insanely acute perceptions, spider hands... I think I even smelled one guy´s disease..."

Then Damien pulled himself together and gazed straight into her eyes with incredible resolve. "I don't know what it is, Amber, but I want out."

Amber smiled a little. "You are on a spiritual journey... you are Awakening to the real reality. In so doing, you are throwing off all kinds of energy. There are all manner of spirits around you, trying to tell you or show you something, or even to harm you in some way. That in itself is too weird to happen unless there is a very good reason."

Now Amber sounded like a nutjob. Just like Joel said she was. Despite that being true, Daniel could not forget how she had foreseen Jacques' death.

Amber seemed to catch what he was thinking by the expression on his face. She rolled her eyes and said, "I hate this part. The I-don't-believe-you-you're-crazy part. Come one, let's get past that. Come back to my shop with me. I may have a trick or two that could alleviate your symptoms. At least I could try to shield you from those spirits. Humour me. Look, I know you are out on a date but there's more important stuff, OK? Your girlfriend will be there tomorrow. You, on the other hand, may not..."

Amber crossed her arms and tried to assume a rigid stance and a stern look that dared Damien to tell her otherwise.

Damien scratched his temple absed-mindedly.

Oh man, Michele's gonna kill him if he pulls off a stunt like this. She really is gonna kill him. Or them both. Yeah. That's the spirit.

Damien forced himself to stop thinking about it.

On the other hand, last time he ignored Amber, his best friend got killed. He was not going to make the same mistake again with himself being the subject.

"All right, but I've gotta tell them where I'm goin'," Damien said. Suspiciousness and doubt were visible in his eyes, but confusion really held the throne. "I'm not gonna save myself by screwing things up if I have another option."

Amber shrugged to show her acquiescence and waited in place.

Damien had tried to recall any instance he could have heard about spirits or ghosts killing anyone, but if had indeed heard anything his memory failed him (perhaps he could ask Amber about that)...

When Damien had told Michele where he was going, Michele had at first kept a straight face but fell silent. Almost explosively Michele had then said, "As-tu perdu l'esprit? Je n'y crois pas! (translated from French: 'Have you lost your mind? I don't believe this!') I thought you'd said you'd hang with us tonight. C'est des conneries! (translation: 'This is bullshit!') Change your mind, did you? Well, then... Who the hell is she?"

"Calm down, please," Damien said to Michele in a soothing voice, waiting until he got an eye contact with her before continueing. "She´s the one that foretold Jaques´ death, remember? Now she says something is about to happen with me. I can´t walk away from her if she has means to prevent it." Damien held a pause for effect, but just as long that she couldn´t interrupt. "Look, I have never cheated on you and you know that, don´t you? I would never do something like that. This is just a choice of one night... versus..." he held a pause again, taking Micheles hand in his, "versus me possibly dying. I wouldn´t go if I had another choice." Damien gently touched her hair.

Michele looked downward for moment and nodded. "I know," she claimed. "Come see me when you're done and tell me all about it." She grabbed Damien's jaw and firmly added, "Don't stay too long." Quickly she added with a smile, "You can touch more of my hair later."

Angela wrinkled her nose and Michele noticed. "Angela and I will grab something to eat and then I'll take her home. See you later, my love..."

"I wouldn´t have it any other way," Damien kissed her on the lips and glanced back when walking towards Amber.

Amber nodded with some satisfaction. "OK, good. Let's go."
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PostitusPostitas higgins 18:38 10. Okt 2006

As Amber and Damien followed the way out of the nightclub, Damien had picked up on yet another something that was strange. He passed by who seemed to be a middle aged man who was lanky in build. His hair was a reddish-brown and he wore bright coloured motorcycle leathers.

What Damien picked up on was that the man was dangerous, a kind of predator. He gotten the impression that the man wasn't merely here for the show. That perhaps he was going to cause someone harm in some way.

But then again, that applied to half the damn kids in here, didn't it? So why had Damien picked out this man out of everyone else?

Amber asked, "Let's go, already. Why did you stop?"

"I think it´s starting again..." answered Damien with some hopelessness in his look. He really had thought that the gig had fixed him for good. Damien eyed Amber´s questioning look for a second or two. Then he sighed gently, not because he didn´t want to answer, but because he felt kind of supid for what he was going to say.

"It´s that flashy biker," Damien pointed the guy out with his head while looking completely other way. He didn´t really want to look him in the eyes, not even by accident. He thought the feeling would intensify again, and that wouldn´t be good.

"I sensed something predatory in him," he shrugged. "Well... I know he doesn´t quite fit the stereotype of an alien hunting half-naked soldiers in a jungle, but there definetly was something."

"...not that I´d like to explore it too much as you said something is going to happen with me," added Damien promptly anticipating Amber´s reaction.

Amber looked sideways at the biker who was moving deeper into the crowd. She had seemed to think something over and bit her lower lip but then thought better of it. Shaking her head, she remarked, "Let's just get out of here then. If he didn't notice you then maybe that's a good
thing..."

Outside, Amber pointed to her small compact car, which waited for them along with the rest of the parked vehicles. A one of a kind motorcycle caught his eye: it looked like nothing else he had ever seen. Damien slowed his pace significantly to have a better look and enjoy the view.

A group of people assembled around the motorcycle had the same sentiment; they, too, had been loitering around the bike and seemed to be remarking about it.

Amber seemed to be immune to the novelty, however. Noticing Ambers total disinterest, Damien quickly followed her to the car. She went straight to her car and kept on talking. "I really don't think anyone put anything in your food or drink, Damien. I think something momentous is about to happen to you. A change. A deep spiritual change... you are about to Awaken to a higher reality!"

Amber grinned and unlocked the car door. She seemed excited and giddy now. "You really should let me help you through the process. Your chances of coming back whole are much better that way..."

Damien moved around the car to the passenger door. "I don´t really want to interrupt, Amber, but sipiritual awakening to a higher reality is putting hallicionogens to ones food and drink. Or rather eating or smoking them directly. You know, like shamans going to talk with spirits..."

When opening the door he half-singed half-muttered a gothic tune. "Mandrake and devilbane, I seek to be insane. ... Fly agaric and marsh tea, give me madness, make me free."

He sat in, closed the door and couldn´t help to smirk.

Amber gave Damien a sidelong look and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? Want to see about that? I'm serious, Damien... please don't tsiribiribimm around." She started her car and it purred to life. Amber had slid the manual gearshift and navigated her way out of the parking lot.

Amber glanced over to Damien for a moment and said, "We're going to my place and there we can see about..."

There was a sickening thud as Amber's car ran into a man on the road. The force of the impact forced the man unto the windshield, and it had cracked into a spider-web pattern but it did not break. Amber gasped in surprise and applied the brake and the man did not tumble off the vehicle.

The man hung onto the car's roof and side mirror and flipped halfway so that he crouched on the hood of the car. He gazed inwards directly at Damien, his mouth open. His canine teeth were elongated slightly and he growled something like, "Stayyyy younguuun. Lemme bite'cha!!" The man's eyes shone in the darkness like a dog's would when light reflected back. For some reason, the man reminded Damien of a psychotic Jack Nicholson.
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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PostitusPostitas higgins 15:55 14. Okt 2006

Amber made to open her car door and unfasten her belt.

Damien grabbed Ambers hand and stopped her from opening the door. "Shit no, don´t do that! Look at that fuckers face! Get us outta hea´!!"

Then he turned his head to see what the psycho was doing and gulped. He suddenly remembered of how he wanted a vampiric toothjob once, but the apartment had consumed most of his money at that time. He snapped out of that thought and got ready to grab his knife in case the freak really tried to do what he said he would.

Psycho Jack held on to the car as Amber shifted the transmission. The car lurched forward and gained speed.

"Crap's sake!" Psycho said. His grip was slipping a little.

Damien went to finger his knife he thought he had - it wasn't there. However, he spied something on the floor of the passenger side near his feet. A glint of metal revealed a cheap looking, sheathed survival knife – the kind you could order from some kind of survivalist magazine...

"Oh my god!" Amber cried out. Damien saw the man was still hanging on but had stopped slipping. His face was much more hairy than before. A very strong five o'clock shadow growth of beard stubble was present where it was very mild before. The man's teeth was longer and sharper. His eyes took on a yellowish cast.

"Tell your bitch to stop, boy!" the psycho Jack Nicholson yelled. The tenor of his voice was much more guttural. Damien's mind reeled from the sight, as if he couldn't understand what was happening to the man. Perhaps his perception about the man was wrong. Maybe he really was unshaven after all, and he had some liver disease that made his eyes the colour it was...?

Amber turned down a street, the car not even slowing down. The wheels slipped and the car slid across over to the wrong side. Amber corrected the car's path as she half grunted and half sub-vocalized her
horror.

"Shit man, we've gotta get that fucker off... Spray all the window cleaner you've got, Amber, he might slip," Damien said.

Amber quickly fumbled for the car's window washer fluid release, and the window was sprayed with the fluid. A lot of it was sprayed on the psycho wolfman on the car. Doing so had made Amber fail to realize where the car was going. It had veered off the road and partially onto the sidewalk.

The car headed straight for a power line or telephone pole – it was hard to tell at the rate of speed things progressed. Amber once again wrenched the car to avoid the pole. The car lurched and tires squealed...

It happened very fast: the car slammed into the telephone pole. The psycho was propelled into the air and traveled some 20 feet in an arc unto the paved sidewalk. barely missing getting flattened by the pole. The seatbelts saved Damien and Amber from much of the potential danger and wounds that not wearing them would have caused. Instead, they took a bruise on the head and on the body.

Damien was still conscious, and so was Amber. The windshield was halfway cracked and hard to see through but it still held. The front of the car was a slight "V" shape where the car hit the pole. Smoke or steam hissed out from under the mangled hood and the engine had kept on running but it was sporadic at best. Damien did not see flames, but then again it was way too early to tell if that danger had passed.

They both could see the psycho Jack lay on the ground ahead and was at that time unmoving...
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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PostitusPostitas higgins 11:31 20. Okt 2006

Chapter Two: Weirdos

Damien heard some voices around the car and a tall, broad-shouldered man opened the passenger side car door to help him out.

"Are you all right?" the man asked as he reached in. An involuntary hard edge had crept into his voice.

"Oh, tsiribiribimm no, of course not, are you friggin blind? There was a carcrash!" Damien replied somewhat dizzy voice, holding his right hand on his forhead.

Then the man turned back to Damein, "I imagine it's been a strange day for you. Likely a strange couple weeks. Have you been seeing things? Hearing voices speaking in strange languages you almost understand? ..."

Most of Damiens attention was turned into getting himself and Amber out of the seatbelts. While he heard what the man was saying, most of it didn´t really come through. He got himself freed rather easily, but Ambers belt was jammed and he had to use the survival knife to cut her loose. Amber was conscious and trembled in place as Damien cut her seatbelt.

"...I have answers to many of your questions. But first, let's get you to safety. Now is a very dangerous time for you. I can help guide you and protect you," the man said, subtly gesturing towards the prone psycho to make his point.

"Yea, safe. Protection. Right," Damien repeated the key words which seemed like origining from a condom pacakge. He tried to shake off the confusion.

Damien took a deep breath stepping out of the vechicle and leaning on the car door stopped him from falling on the sidewalk. Knife clinged on the surcace as Damien had dropped it. His legs seemed weak from the shock.

"I can also protect your friend," the man added, though he seemed like he had stopped himself from saying more.

"Well, get her out first, please..." Damien replied, leaning on the car door which sounded as if it was going to break off.

Soon enough both were freed from the wreck.

A man with short dark hair was running towards the car too. "I will check on the wo..." he said, then hesitated and looked at the other two pedestrians who were on the scene and then continued. "Ehm... hood guy."

Amber sighed when she saw the state her car was in, but that was short lived as she looked to the fallen wolf-man. Amber's eyes grew wider too when she saw the other woman in a furry state like the psycho Jack was. Damien just watched the wolf-woman go with a dumb expression... There are more of those freaks? Seeing Amber uninjured helped him to regain his footing somewhat.

The wolf-woman nodded to the broad-shouldered guy and stepped near Jack. Damien wouldn't believe his eyes. Luckily, the wolf-woman was standing with her back towards Damien, so that he couldn't get a proper look on her face.

Amber noted the others nearby and then looked to Damien. "Are you OK?" She stepped forward toward Damien to check him over for signs of injury. While she did so, she asked the others, "Th-thanks for your help... I think we'll be OK."

Amber looked to Psycho Jack once again and then said, "No need to call 9-1-1..."
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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PostitusPostitas higgins 13:33 3. Nov 2006

"There isn't!? This fucker should be put into the Arkham Asylum or wherever he escaped from," Damien said, pointing to the Psycho Jack.

The wolf-woman crouched in anticipation. "If you are one of the Pure, then prepare to die!!!" she challenged the psycho quite loudly and growled.

Meanwhile, over towards the scene of the car accident – or more precisely beyond it – came an older woman dressed in her nightclothes. She carried with her a cordless phone. "I called 9-1-1! Are you OK? Is everyone all right?" She visibly squinted her eyes to get a better look at the scene before her.

When the wolf-woman had issued her challenge, the old woman replied with concern, "No need to get physical. The police are coming. Your cars are just a material things – they can be replaced, people can't..."

Now that was a pretty fucked up hairy chick... Damien looked at her for a brief moment and then turned to the homeless-looking guy who had offered protection moments ago.

"Um, if you´re going to protect us... I think it would be nice to do it before the chick decides the psycho is too clean for her and kills him," Damien proposed. "I have cash," he added after hesitating a bit.

Also, Damien heard the other guy stating that he was a police officer.

"The woman is Valo... Valsta and she's a friend," the broad-shouldered guy said, gesturing, "I don't know the man you hit, but Valsta's watching him so he won't hurt either of you now... and keep your money."

"Whoa! You two know each other?" Damien felt rather uncomfortable discovering that. He had thought that Valsta and the psycho were somehow connected, but now this guy as well? He glanced towards them and then focused on the broad-shouldered guy again.

"The way she looks...?" the broad-shouldered guy asked, noticing Damien's discomfort, "Right, like the guy who jumped on your car. They can both change their appearance. I can, too, and that's only one of several shapes we can choose. Uh, I can really explain this better when we have more time and privacy." He punctuated his last remark by glancing at the fallen psycho to make sure Valsta and the cop still had the situation under control.

"Look, we need to talk. I have explanations, but this isn't the right place. You can pick the place," the broad-shouldered guy added, realizing Damien wasn't likely to wander off with him at the best of times – and this wasn't the best of times, "Um, as long as we can hear each other and no one can eavesdrop." He tried to read Damien's reaction.

Damien looked at Amber as if she was the one deciding on this. Other than that Damien seemed rather confused, but not actually freaked out. The cop seemed to have convinced the old woman that he has eveything under control and so she left.

"Look, what's your name? Mine's Brandon. I know there's crazy shit happening right now, but I promise you it's just going to get crazier and more dangerous. There are going to be others who'll feel what's happening to you and want a piece of you. I can tell you what's happening and why. I can protect you. I know you don't have to trust me... and you're wondering why should you. I'm going to give you a choice. You don't have to talk to me now. Many others won't give you that choice. If you walk away now, we'll probably meet again... if you live. Think about it."

"I'm Damien," he replied to Brandon, figuring they all will know each others by name anyway when police arrives.

"Damien. Good to meet you." Brandon hesitated a second, started to reach out his hand for a handshake, then let it drop to his side again. He started drumming his fingertips against his leg in a complex rhythm.

"How... how do you know he wanted a piece of me? And who don't give me a choice?" Damien demanded.

"I don't know what he wanted," Brandon said, "what I do know is that there are things out there that will want you dead or twisted into their servitude. They are the ones who won't give you any choices. Before you ask, you did nothing to deserve this or cause it. It's about what you are... What you're becoming. You're changing and there are others that can sense it. Now that I'm near you, I can sense it, too."

Amber shook her head slowly and demanded, "How is it that you know? Tell me what you think is happening to him... at my private place, then." She had a decidedly suspicious look upon her. "I will not brook any aggression," she warned.

Brandon met her gaze unflinching as she threatened him. "I'd ask you the same question. And what's your interest in him? You're not Uratha," Brandon added.

Damien glanced at the psycho and others while getting out his cigarillo case. Before going for the lighter, he tapped the ends of two other smokes out of the case and looked to Brandon and Amber if they also needed a smoke, making a soundless gesutre of offering. Amber nodded her assent and took one of his smokes. Brandon hesitated, then agreed.

Brandon inhaled the smoke deeply before talking to Amber again: "Where is your place? Perhaps a neutral, but private, meeting ground would be best."

Then Brandon met Damien's eyes again. He saw Damien watching him and kept looking at Damien's red contacts time to time.

"Damien, I told you you had a choice. I'll go where you feel most comfortable. Or I'll leave you alone if you tell me to."

"Amber already said she would be protecting me... or something alike... So, if she's okay with it..." Damien shrugged. "Oh, and what's with this urethra?" he added as he had recalled something. "I did smell some guys disease today, but I don't think it had anything to do with pee..."

"Okay, so we'll go talk... uh, Valsta's with me. I can vouch for her," Brandon said, worrying it would be a problem.

"And it's 'Ooh-rah-thah'," Brandon sounded out, "Uratha means... werewolf. Sounds crazy, right? But you've already seen two of us shape change."

Brandon looked in Damien's unsettling eyes for a moment before adding: "And you're one of us... or you will be soon. As I said, we have a lot to talk about."
Nüüd aga tuleb Higgins ja räägib, kuis Asjad Tegelikult On. - Payl
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