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One might be random. (private)

Ringo stood stoically at what was considered the entrance into the back alley of Nachton, notoriously the most dangerous place to stray into after dark. He inhaled deeply, taking in the pungent smells that littered the long alley way. Urine, feces - human and animal, and the faint traces of blood. Oooh, the vampires, he thought to himself.

Both packs had only recently began to delve deeper into the mystery that surrounded the relationship between the werewolves and the vampires. Publicly he paid no attention, but privately he researched the vampires in some of the oldest libraries in the world. It was more out of personal curiosity than for vengeance. The vampires had acquired an enormous amount of wealth over the past several thousand years, and you didn't need a secret squirrel clearance to recognize that. Both packs had done the same, saving all their pennies and buying up property all over the world, the United States included. Ringo blinked as he slowly slipped his hands into the pockets of his khakis and stepped into the alley. There was time enough for a reflection into inter-species history; now was time to stir the pot a little.

Stepping into the alley was like being wrapped up in a dark, wool blanket. Maybe it was psychological, but it was effective. Foreboding and fear prevailed here, as well as rape gangs, bad guys, and things that went bump in the night. Walking alone and seemingly unarmed was not a good idea in any part of the world, but this dark place lived for it, consumed life and light and preyed on the weak.

Ringo was so excited he almost giggled.

Thug 15 years ago
There were three of them watching from one of the apartment buildings that lined the main alleyway that cut across the length of the industrial district. Nondescript, not uncommon males in their early 20's that may or may not be part of the criminal element that existed down in those parts. Silently they watched as the middle aged black man casually walked down the alley, looking straight ahead.

He couldn't have been that stupid to walk alone in a Nachton after dark. Couldn't have been so stupid as to be unarmed and walking as loudly as possible. Did he really think they were so stupid not to see through the veiled threat, with a town like Nachton where people just upped and disappeared into the night?

He wasn't, but they were.

They moved quickly along the length of the apartment building and headed for the fire escape that dropped down behind the lone pedestrian. Sliding into the shadows, making as little noise as possible, these three idiots quickly and nimbly walked to their death.
Oringo Ramsey 15 years ago
The purpose of his late night walk was intentional and purely for business. The client wanted to stir the waters and cause some ripples, basically fuck with some people's minds. Ringo had no problem playing with the local wildlife; it gave his team a chance to learn the city and gave him an opportunity to touch the city's pulse and gain the proper choke hold. Instilling fear was fun.

Ringo could smell the three thugs before he saw them, so he had to give them credit for at least remaining unseen. Still, just because he didn't brandish a weapon, didn't mean he didn't have one. So stupid, he thought. As he continued walking leisurely down the alley, other streets began to bisect into it, all leading into more darkness. With a smile, Ringo walked past the first two intersections and then turned slowly at the third right. There were fire escapes lined up on alternating sides all the way down this side street providing one hundred different routes to take. He could have ditched their tail in five seconds flat, but again, that wasn't the purpose.

His leisurely stroll slowed to a crawl as he relished the darkness of the shadows, and on cue, Thug #1 turned the corner, following him. If they had any brains, #2 and #3 would be up front blocking any escape routes. He had nowhere to go but forward. Thug #1 walked with a purpose toward him, surprisingly with no fear at all that Ringo could smell. In the darkness of the building's shadow he sighed. #2 and #3 appeared on the opposite side like clockwork.


'Gentlemen. Good evening,' Ringo sang with his South African accent.

Thug #1 let a pipe drop from its concealed position up the sleeve of his baseball jersey, although Ringo was fairly certain that the lad was not from high school. Remembering his manners, Ringo stepped back toward Thug #1, stepping out of the shadows, with his hand extended in friendship.
Thug 15 years ago
Thug #1's name was Larry. Larry was your garden variety criminal - he lacked originality, was 'street smart' in the sense that he knew how to unload stolen goods at a reasonable price and all the drug dealers knew him by name. Not too impressive, but it was a lifestyle he had become accustomed to.

This was any other day of the week - a meal ticket had strayed into the back alleys, and since the cops failed to patrol these parts as frequently as any other part of town (save for the slaughter house district, that place was just creepy), he did not possess any amount of finesse that a hardened criminal might have developed. Still, Larry let the steel pipe slide down from his sleeve and he twirled it like a baton, which he mistakenly thought was cool. He had watched the meal ticket in the dark shadows of the tall buildings, arms out stretched and friendly.

Larry held out his free hand, the international criminal sign for 'give me your wallet'. He squinted trying to make out the black man's features, but he was extremely dark skinned, not brown like the brothers in hood. He laughed at his own joke, seeing how Larry was of the white cornbread variety.


'Come on. Hand it over.'

Stepping back into the light, such as it was, Larry beckoned the man forward who did so as he lowered his arms back to his sides. What he saw made him drop the steel pipe to the ground, clanking loudly and vibrating off the brick sides of the buildings.

'What the hell?'

The man stepped full into the light and smiled. It had to have been the most terrifying thing he had ever seen in his life, and as he considered this tid-bit of information, he died. And quite horribly, I might add.
Thug 15 years ago
'What is that idiot doing?' This was Shep. No really, his name was Shep. His friend? You guessed it. Moe. Shep and Moe lingered at the opposite side of the one way alley and waited for the man to run back, away from Larry. But he never came.

They heard the clank of the pipe and looked at each other.


'Come on, Larry!' Moe called out, but they could not see much beyond the darkness of the alley. Shep started to tap his foot nervously. Annoyed, Moe pushed him with a silencing look. Suddenly there was a thick, awful silence and then a distinct ripping noise. Soft gurgles drifted down the alley toward Shep and Moe, followed by Larry dropping backwards, onto the ground.

At the end of the alley they could see their mark, standing in the shadows. Well, not quite standing, but hunched over Larry. Shep blinked and then wiped his eyes with shaking hands. The man at the end of the alley began to walk toward them, his shoulders had grown impossibly big and his fingers were curved and sharp like thin blades. He reached out and grabbed Moe by his shirt.


'Are you seeing this?'

'I...don't know.' Moe was living his own nightmare, watching something not quite human began gliding down the alley. Its head was changing, growing larger and misshapen as its body thinned to a serpent like creature. It slithered toward them, hissing so loudly that Moe reached up and covered his ears with his hands.

Shep's shoulders cringed as the thing began to drag its nails along the brick walls of the buildings. Moe began to whimper next to him and the distinct smell of urine wafted up toward up him. At first he thought it was Moe that had peed his pants, but then he realized that it was his own urine filling the alley and drenching his pants. It never occurred to him to run and apparently Moe hadn't considered it either. They both stood there, petrified with fear as they watched their separate horrors come closer.
Oringo Ramsey 15 years ago
Ringo could not fight off the change, not with that much blood in him. With a shake of his head, his sticky fur shook off the last bit of blood from the three men who had planned on robbing him. He had managed to kill all three before changing, making the bite marks questionable if not quite interesting for the medical examiner when the bodies were found. The almost human bite marks should make for quite the story when the newspapers got a hold of it, and Ringo had been assured that they would.

Two of his Nakubili’s dragged two of the mangled bodies closer to the mouth of the alley way, but the blood would lead whoever found them to the third, completely torn apart body. Ringo reflected on the cruelty he inflicted – it was God’s way. Everything happened for a reason and one should have faith that the He would see to the end of those who did not believe. Ringo stopped himself from waxing poet as he stood in his wolf form – black with white tips – and trotted down the alley, moving along in the darkness. The first incident was finished – on to creating more havoc.

((OOC Ringo out))