Twenty-Eight and Five Thousand Nights

The Final Night

And in those days, the ground shall grow cold, the earth shall crack, and unclean things shall boil up from below. The Red Star will mark their return in the night sky, and all shall be rendered unto dust.

I looked, and there before me stood the youngest of my grandchildren. It was he alone who broke the last seal of the Maker, and he who felt the power of Golconda first. And Lo! there was silence in heaven and on earth, for those who walk the path of redemption shall be brought into the Lightbringer’s cause.

The Dark Father


I have slept since the Third Age. Long have I dreamed and watched as my dreams became nightmares. I wept when the false Brujah, that meticulous owl, slew his sire and claimed his mantle. Yet again did I weep when Enoch fell, for I had hopes that the Third Age would bring peace between the Underworld and Creation. Alas, it was not so.

Still, again, I wept when my children found me sleeping in the mountains. They sought to make me a player in the Great Jyhad once more. Never again. Not when Enoch fell. Not even for Saulot, who I loved above all others. I saw what he had become. I saw Golconda in him. I saw salvation and I knew it was not to be mine.

You asked me why I didn’t tell you who I was? I did. I told you my name was William, which means God’s spear. In Hebrew, my name still means God’s Spear. I also warned you that you did not want me to leave that cave – remember? But I did. I did leave, and the Withering began.

Yes, I am the Withering. My blood is returning to me. My powers have been returning. My essence is my own and it has come home. That is why Gehenna has begun, for my grandchildren are terrified that I have come. All but one of them fears me.

Saulot of Nod… we are coming to see you.



It began a long time ago, in an era men have long since forgotten. It is said that, back then, the world was still flat. Things like the Yama Kings did not yet exist. The sin of Caine had not yet stained mankind. The war of enlightenment was a thing in the distant future.

But all those things have passed and the world is not as it once was. Tonight, on the 15th of August, 2016, Gehenna truly began. After a false start in Calcutta over three years ago, the time of blooded end has finally come. With lycanthropes converging on Manhatten, ancient flesh beasts arising from the sewers, men running scared, and others rallying man into open war, the Masquerade has been broken.

The world watches in horror at the images they are seeing. Manhatten is in utter chaos. The Army has been sent to aid in containing this… thing. No amount of Tremere lies or Camarilla spin can cover what has happened now.

Across the world, those slumbering have awoken, and the Blood Calls to Blood. They are coming… they are coming for us all…

To any who might find this… we were wrong.


The Red Sign

Day breaks over the isle of Manhatten. The fire department has returned home after several hours of battling the blaze at the Lower Manhatten Construction Corporation. They still weren’t sure what had actually started the blaze. There was obvious signs of explosives in the building, but that was not what had caused the most damage.

On a bus, heading out across the Brooklyn Bridge, Eve David stared at the smoke she could see rising from the city. They had failed to slay the vampires… and it was about to get worse, she could feel it in her gut. Things were going to hell in a hand basket.

On the bus next to her sat a rather sick looking man. His eyes were milky and pale. His skin had this creamy quality to it, as if it were going to slough off in a single liquid layer. Eve turned her gaze to him and asked, “Are you all right?”

The man gave a shuddering nod. “Just a sickness that’s been going around Queens.” The raspy cough which followed caused the man to eject a wad of phlegm which Eve could swear was moving.

“What kind of sickness?” Eve heard the voice again. That same voice, in the back of her mind, that told her when something was off about someone. It was what had told her that her father’s friend, Roger, wasn’t human.

“I… I’m not sure,” the man gave a groan of pain and held his gut. Even could sense it – something was moving beneath the man’s skin. An infection.

Eve reached out and touched the man’s arm. His skin felt clammy at first, but Eve held his gaze and simply told him. “It’s going to be OK. You’re not alone – we’re not alone in the darkness. There are others looking out for us.” A subdued glow emanated from her hand and passed into the man.

A few moments later, the pain was gone and the infection stilled. Eve had banished it, this much she knew…

The Time of Thin Blood

The last of the Cleaners, sent by the Camarilla, was just leaving O.R.S.I. They’d spent the last few nights working on the most expensive toxic site clean up which the Kindred had ever engaged in. Of course, it was all done under the auspice of the Clean Air and E.P.A. acts, even though every man sent in there was a ghoul.

As the two Cleaners surfaced, they strode from the open pit on the factory floor, towards the two security guards wearing full hazmat gear. They were listening to the radio and barely paying attention to what went in and out of the factory, as long as it was wearing a hazmat suit like theirs.

The radio host was reading the news at the top of the hour, “Riots have finally calmed in L.A. Viewers may remember our report yesterday of the so-called Devil’s Night, where thousands were afflicted with a vision of an angel – or, as some viewers claimed, Lucifer – appearing in the night sky above Los Angeles. Official reports have now confirmed that the earthquake that night triggered a release of several toxic gasses. These gasses triggered mass hallucinations.”

The first Cleaner looked towards his partner and said, “Damn, I hate this detail. Why do we get all the shit work?”

His partner laughed and replied, “Because we’re good at cleaning up things that shouldn’t exist. You saw that flesh thing. You know what we had to do to get it out every nook and cranny. Plus, your breathing hose getting tangled up slowed us down.”

“Yeah, what was that anyway? We weren’t near any confined spaces,” the first Cleaner wondered.

His friend stopped and started examining the breathing apparatus. “Good question, so hold up and let me see. Light wasn’t good down there… huh, there’s lacerations on the hose.”

“Oh shit!” the first Cleaner exclaimed. They’d been warned not to breath in any of the material down below. Something about even one cell could carry it, allowing it to survive. Then he felt the pain… it began in the Cleaner’s gut. He screamed at the agony as his hazmat suit burst open with a fleshcrafted hand.

The last thing both Cleaners heard was guards unloading their automatic weapons.

Know By These Signs

TO: Inner Circle
FROM: Beckett
SUBJECT: Truth Behind the Calcutta Incident

Good evening my illustrious council members. As you are ready to hold your convention in New York City, recently reclaimed (for good) from the Sabbat, I figured now would be the appropriate time to send you my findings on the Calcutta Incident – AKA, the Week of Nightmares.

In short, there was NO evidence of antediluvian activity. The nuclear strikes were a result of (and I will cover each point in detail):

1) Poor nformation.
2) Hasty decision making on the part of the Tremere.
3) A terrorist cell of political dissidents in China.


Suffice to say, there was no antediluvian arisen to consume us all. Such stories are simply fear-mongering spread by less enlightened minds. The picture, below, was taken near ground zero when the so-called ancient was rampaging through the city. (See Attachment 1.)

They'll deny it was me...

What you see here is a wraith, crossed over into our world because of the intense violence between the Keui-Jin and our Kindred brothers. It is a pathetic creature. Certainly not a Methuselah, such as Zapathasura, who fought bravely against the eastern invaders. The glowing, which some said was a result of the ancient’s presence, is simply an optical illusion created by phantasms.

I’m sure folks at companies such as Terril & Squibb or The Orpheus Group would probably appreciate receiving such elaborate hoaxes to debunk.


A Tremere who was on ground in Calcutta reported the situation incorrectly. They panicked and took such vistas as attachment 2 to mean that the apocalypse was coming. The Tremere even testified that this picture was taken at 1400, local time.

Did you see me?

Total rot. The sky’s odd color is a result of several large chemical-based bombs that went off during the day. Some results of such applied chemical weapons can include hallucinations, fugue, and general confusion. The Tremere, Lorenzo, was probably just under the ill-effects of one such detonation. When he reported that Ravnos had arisen, he was mistaken.

Of greater concern to me is that the Tremere have been withholding information on this, “Project RAGNAROK.” I recommend an official inquiry be opened.


The second nuclear attack was a strike from Chinese dissidents, as our Las Angeles Kuei-Jin representative was quick to say. While we may not normally believe the likes of Miss Xiao, she stands to lose just as much if the nuke was of Chinese government origins.


The Calcutta Incident was a result of poor planning, poor execution, and poorer judgment on the part of the Tremere. Gehenna has, predictably, not begun.

Mariah Danced

To the Illustrious Methuselahs of the Inner Circle, Greetings:

I trust this letter will reach you in time for your 2013 get together in Washington, D.C. My writing you, of course, is of a matter of some grave import – namely, that I should help continue to debunk the misconceptions and old superstitions that our Camarilla seems intent on carrying through the modern era, despite our official policies stating the opposite of what our younger Kindred sometimes buy into.

I speak of the incident int he 16th century, involving one so-called Mariah the Black (or Maria, as we’d spell it now, and pronounce it like Mary instead of like Mariah Carey). According to the stories I’ve collected from my trips to Vienna and Prague, a group of two Alistors, two Archons, and a Justicar were responsible in bringing down Kindred-number-one on the Red List. The reports further go on to say that the woman was operating some sort of occult ritual using a fragment from the Book of Nod, a subject I happen to be one of the foremost experts on.

Given the recent reports of increased violence in Calcutta and what we’re seeing as werewolf incursions (along with the detestable Kuei-Jin), I’m not surprised we’re also receiving reports of “demonic” activity in the Himalayas. What does surprise me, however, is the distance from the supposed epicenter of this glorious battle of the olden tymes.

I doubt this is anything out of the ordinary, and it’s certainly no reason to be alarmed. There’s no sign or portent of Gehenna here – that superstitious nonsense is best left in the dark ages, where it belongs. I recommend you send the same group of Kindred, if they still live, to examine the spiritual resonance site. They can fly into Calcutta, catch a helicopter to the site and return in 24 hours. In-and-out. That will put this silly little notion of “ancient ones” out of everyone’s mind.

Thank you for your time.


And the Devil Grinned

Etrius of Tremere peered through his thaumatergically enhanced orbs. Something was wrong. He could feel it – something was violating the very laws which governed reality. Something he’d not felt since his days as a mortal mage. He needed to know what, but this damnable blood of Caine did not aid in his supernal awareness as he’d been promised it would.

Etrius hissed as he heard the words of the prophecy pass through his mind once more:

We take our breath for the last time
We’ll give it one more cry before they burn a hole
In our hearts again

“Lorenzo,” Etrius muttered, “you had better know what you’re doing.”

We saw it coming, this black parade when will it end
Oh you and I both know, this black parade on fear depends
We can fight it but we can’t pretend

The Alastors should be in Jerusalem by now. He expected to hear word any day now that Mariah was dead, and that her Black Parade had come to an end. “Mariah! Of course!” the string of curses which left Etrius’ mouth next had no place upon the lips or in the ears of mortal men or immortal beasts. “She has begun her ritual.”

Faryad kon
Parvaz kon
We will fight until the streets turn red
(Portions of this log taken from the song Black Parade by Globus.)
And the Serpent's Stared

Joshua of Saulot walked through the greenery near the Church of the Visitation out in Moskubiya, perhaps a dozen or so miles from Jerusalem. While the forests here looked nothing like the coniferous lands close to Vienna, they still held the same children of the moon which Joshua sought. This coterie from the newly formed Camarilla held a bit of fascination for him: perhaps he would need to seek out the remnants of the Iconnu among them. Perhaps Joshua’s friend was still among them.

No matter, now that the Followers of Set had decided not to resist his leaving, Joshua knew he needed to help the Coterie defeat Mariah the Black before she called forth one of the Fallen from the pits of Hell. Though he could not directly intervene and stop Mariah himself without violating his suspire, he could help them in other ways.

“You walk in our wilderlands again, blessed one,” he heard a voice growl from the treeline.

Joshua smiled. “I do, garou,” he rhymed. “Not without reason, I assure you. I have five companions who need a quick route to Kolkatta in west Bangal.”

“That is over three thousand miles, and deep within hengoyaki territory.”

“I know.”

“You ask us to take five wyrm-tainted creatures into the Umbra and walk the silver-paths set aside for our own kind?”

“I do.”

A low growl emanated from the forest. “Unacceptable, blessed one.”

“Those among them who are not at least nascent of myself will be suspended in Torpid slumber for the duration.”

The growling ceased and the air was pregnant with thought. Then, “Fine. Bring them tomorrow night, on full moon.”

While in Heaven's Kingdom

Habbas Vantos, Ravnos Sovereign of Jerusalem, rested in his whimsically chosen hall of the evening. As the Sovereign did most nights, Habbas went over each and every missive his clan sent him from as far away as Kolkatta in the East. This night, a letter reached his desk from the hand of Delilah, Daughter of Lilith (well, really, great quintuple removed granddaughter).

“Mariah the Black, of Clan Baali, is moving through Jerusalem. She holds a fragment of Nod, the Crone’s blood, and a piece of Eden. Now, she seeks a canopic jar with the remains of a dead god from the Second Age of Man,” Habbas paused to ponder that last one. “Age of Man? Hmm… the Devil-Tigers say we are in the fifth age.”

“The Impergium was the third, the fourth began after the deluge, and the fifth marked the death of magic – what would remain from the Age of Sorrows? Do even Antediluvians remember so far back?”

Habbas turned his eyes back to Delilah’s letter. “And a sleeping ancient. Where would she find one of those?”


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