Events from “Nestled Atop the Tower”

Notes by Anthony

“You’re listening to WRXL 102.1 FM, home of the latest and greatest end of the world prophecies on either side of the Potomac. Though I’m probably not the only one spouting dire portents given the state of affairs outside. Last we met I bedded down the evening of December 8th in the nicest bathtub in the fanciest bathroom I’ve ever seen at Desirée’s penthouse. I dreamt of a man in scrubs. Tall. Handsome. Scared out of his mind. He ran down the street to the door of a house, where he reached inside to grab a baseball bat. When he turned around, though, nothing was following him. 

“I woke up, fortunately not covered in my own blood. I’d left the fancy prophecy-recording muslin back at Gallaudet, so I just slept in a pair of sweatpants. Easy to launder. I put on some clothes, grabbed my backpack, and headed out to the kitchen with Ben. I was hungry, so I took out one of the blood bags I’d snagged from the fridge in Gallaudet and tried opening it. Despite my best efforts, some got on my Pearl Jam shirt. Desirée had the TV on, and it showed some wild stuff. Protests. Lootings. Martial law. Fox News anchor claiming that the terrorist attack was an attempted coup against the government. Dude is right, of course, but for all the wrong reasons. 

“Thaïs came in from outside the penthouse. She’d been jogging up and down the hallways based on the footfalls I’d heard. Thaïs stared at Ben like she could burn a hole in his neck with her eyes. Ben shifted to hide behind me, and I quickly took stock of our haul. We had two hospital-style blood bags left from Gallaudet, and six in ornamental clay pots from OTCAL. There was some kind of black stopper in those, like plastic but not quite. Desirée took a clay pot, and Thaïs took two bags and left for the bathroom. Ben went to the balcony to watch the protests. I think Thaïs spooked him and he needed get some air. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how. In my dreams at OTCAL I looked at him the same way before tearing into his throat. He’s right to be scared of us. Being scared might keep him alive. Especially given what I learned from Desirée and Thaïs next. Call in, dear listeners, if you figured this all out before I did.

“Apparently, being a ghoul isn’t just about getting Wolverine’s healing factor and a ticket to the vampire lore dump. George lied about that, too. Had to keep Ben and me obedient and pliant, I guess. I should have suspected him from the start, I know. There’s no free lunch in the Camarilla. Turns out, Sebastian and Theo didn’t just drive Desirée around and protect her out of the goodness of their hearts or because she pays them incredibly well. Well, I hope she does. Or did. Given how fancy this penthouse I bet she could line the toilet paper with gold, and it would be a rounding error on her bank account. Not that vampires use toilet paper. 

“I’m stalling, dear listeners. You know me too well. I don’t want to say this part out loud since that makes it real. But that doesn’t make it go away. Sometimes, I wish I could have the kind of crazy that blocks out all the terrible things that happen. I only have the kind that makes me remember it forever.

“For a human, drinking a vampire’s blood binds you to them. You’re devoted to them. More than just friends or lovers. They become the most important person in your life. More important than your own life. Desirée had ghouled her husband back before she realized what that meant. She regrets it, but can’t let him go, either. Same thing with Normandin and Thaïs. Vampires like us can’t live without humans. But we can’t keep them there without changing them for good. 

“So, every time I’ve asked Ben if he wanted to leave, if he was sure he wanted to stay…maybe he couldn’t say no. Maybe he would have chosen to stay, anyway, if I’d asked him before he drank my blood. But I can’t know. But the first drink is reversible, apparently. Takes about a month to work through their system. So, if you wouldn’t mind keeping this to yourselves, dear listeners. I need time to figure out how to tell Ben about this.

“Then Desirée started talking about sharing disciplines. I had no idea what she was talking about, but apparently, we can teach each other our special powers by drinking each other’s blood. It bonds us, too, but the first drink just makes us friendly. That didn’t seem like too much of an issue. She wanted to learn Dominate and Obfuscate and could teach me Celerity and Presence. Moving fast and making people like me. Those seemed like two very good survival skills.

“We were interrupted by the doorbell. Desirée listened intently and seemed to recognize the person behind. It was Bernice, who runs her club downstairs. Desirée said they needed new security and tasked Bernice to go find someone before heading downstairs. I suppose Sebastian and Theodore didn’t make it out of Georgetown. I’d pour one out for them, but, well, blood is in precious supply these days, and the thought of drinking alcohol actually makes whatever passes for my stomach do flip flops. When Desirée left, Thaïs offered her blood so she could teach me how to fight. Seemed hypocritical for me to be scared about that while having given my blood to Ben, so I drank. It was incredible, dear listeners. More vibrant and alive than anything I’ve tasted. The blood bag was flat seltzer water in comparison. 

“Thaïs then tried to teach Ben and me how to punch. Afraid I wasn’t very good at it, and with a loud BANG I left an ugly smudge on Desirée’s nice wallpaper just as she walked back in. Desirée said that fighting practice was a good idea, but we needed information first, and suggested I contact Damien. That’s when Thaïs dropped the next big revelation of the evening. Thaïs had spoken with another of her clan. A Brujah who worked in the Camarilla government. Apparently, the reason Malkavians are banned from Alexandria is because of a terrible breach Abraham had done. If you’re squeamish, dear listeners, I’d turn off the radio for the next minute.

“In the early sixties, Abraham had injected pregnant women in Fairfax Hospital with vampire blood. He’d been caught, and the Tremere had to rewrite the memories of all those women and doctors and nurses of what he’d done. I did the math. I think Ben did, too. That was the hospital I’d been born at. March 3rd, 1962. Just like I told the grey ghost in the radio station last week. And I wasn’t the only one born around that time. I turned on the music and tried to find Damien in the darkness of the Cobweb, but my mind was in turmoil. I had new questions for Damien, now. I moved through the Cobweb for what felt like hours. I found him, eventually, in a music practice room. At a college or a rich high school, maybe. 

“I asked him how he was, and he said that he was great. Weird thing to say given everything, but I accepted it at the time. I said I was in Alexandria, and he was surprised, but pleased, that the Cobweb could make it through bubble barrier. I warned him that I was no longer with George, and to be wary if George approached him. Damien said he had talked to Jordan, and against all odds, convinced him to become Alexander again, whatever that meant. I asked why the Tremere feared us, and he said that they know we will topple their whole house of cards. I asked about why they specifically kicked us out of Alexandria, and he smiled. Like he was a benevolent, patient teacher, and I was a particularly slow student. 

“I studied his features while he stared somewhere behind my left ear. Young. Mid-twenties. Angelic. Like an air-brushed top 40s vocalist on the cover of Rolling Stone. I asked how long he had been a vampire, and he said six years. Listeners, I’m sure you can do the math. Damien confirmed we were brothers by more than just Immanuel’s teeth. He was a product of Abraham’s experiments at Fairfax, too. A potential prophet, but he hadn’t been chosen. He sounded resentful. I suppose it’s hard to be the overlooked older sibling in favor of the shiny new baby brother. 

“I told him I was just trying to save the world, and the ‘good luck with that’ he gave me was about the nicest fuck you I’d heard. I could tell that we weren’t on the same page, and it was more than just sibling rivalry. He had a different plan. Maybe I could have gotten him monologuing like a classic Disney villain, but I was upset. Angry. Betrayed. I’d thought Damien was an ally. Someone just like me who had been Embraced by Immanuel and forced carried on his legacy to save the world. A brother. Maybe even a friend. But he clearly had his own agenda. Just like George. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. 

 “I reached through the Cobweb into Damien’s mind, like I had with the Tzimisce and the Demon. I focused on that vision he had of himself using the Temple. And I pulled. Hard. Music filled the practice room as it broke apart into everlasting, everchanging chaos. All needed to be cleansed. All had to die. The world had to be reset and born anew in perfect harmony on The Turn Of The Wheel. Immanuel and Joan and OTCAL were wrong. Damien Luther Adams would be the true prophet. He pushed back and something sparked painfully in the back of my neck as I crashed into Desirée’s wall. I came to as I found myself muttering about of course this goddamn born again Protestant would think he’s the most special-est Jesus Christ chosen one and make everything about him and forget that not everyone wants to participate his stupid Second Coming Rapture apocalypse classical music party. 

“Ben was nodding while Thaïs and Desirée stared at me blankly. I quickly gave up on explaining the imperialist Manifest Destiny inherent in American Protestantism and told them what I’d learned. Turns out, I’d been in the Cobweb for four hours. Fortunately, I hadn’t told Damien where the Temple was or who my friends were, and he was on the other side of the Bubble anyway. 

“I was at a loss for what to do next, as Damien had been my only lead. Desirée suggested that she drink my blood and try to learn more from my visions. Thaïs and I were worried that it could hurt her like it did George and Ben, but she was insistent. I cut open my hand. She placed her lips on my palm and began to drink. It happened faster than I thought it would. Like my blood wanted to leave me and infect her. She froze in place, and I removed my hand from her mouth as gently as I could. I drank three blood clay pots as I healed myself from most of the damage Damien had done. Two remained. When I returned, she was still comatose, despite any of Thaïs attempts to wake her. Ben walked out of the laundry room with a dusty UNO deck, and we did laundry again while the three of us played UNO and waited for Desirée to wake up.”