Shiro's Sanctum

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works, if you recognise it from somewhere else, surprise it isn't mine.

Betad by morde24, Atrius, Hermes, Priapus, Marethyu, Old Man of the Mountain, TheDonFluffles, Malcolm Tent and Mike, God of Lore 

The Guild of Gamers: The Occult

Chapter 02: Getting Started

So, I'll admit I've been hiding because my research on a stolen phone quickly informed me that the Empire are the biggest gang in the city, by far.

They have more capes and territory than anyone else, and they're hunting me down for attacking Rune. 

So I've been keeping my head down and only hunting late at night, away from their territory. 

But Tattletale is right, annoyingly enough. This isn't what I want out of my second life. I hate this place, and I hate this part of the city, it's a run-down dump that's no place for someone like me.

What she's not right about is that I need her or her mysterious boss. 

She was lying when she said she meant no harm, but not fully. Between my powers and my people skills, I'm very good at reading people, even smug capes who think they're smarter than they are. She doesn't want to hurt me, but she knows joining her isn't in my best interests.

It's her boss, I think. She couldn't quite hide the undercurrent of distaste when she mentioned him. 

Whoever he is and whatever he wants, Tattletale doesn't like him and she doesn't actually think it's in my best interest to join her little gang of petty teenage thieves. It's clearly in her best interest, but she's so smug and sure I'll take her up on her offer that I doubt it's in mine.

I'm not entirely opposed to joining a group, because while I have no real interest in serving someone else, I can play the role of a loyal cape for a while, and capes are in high demand.

My powers will grow over time, which means right now I'm at my weakest. It's only natural for me to use another group for protection while I'm so weak.

For now at least, while I gather my strength.

The Undersiders, as my research tells me Tattletale's little group are called, lack power. They're thieves who excel at escaping. The closest they have to a heavy hitter is Hellhound (or maybe Bitch, not quite sure about that), and she's got her own grudge match against the Empire due to Hookwolf's dog fights.

If I'm going to join a group, it's not going to be a team made up of four teenagers who primarily just run away a lot. 

So, what groups exist in Brockton Bay?

The PRT, our resident 'good guys' though they seem a mixture of corrupt and incompetent, like all government agencies. New Wave, once some movement but now they barely do anything. 

The gangs, so the Empire Eighty Eight, the Azn Bad Boys and the Merchants. Plus someone called Coil, but I could barely even find anything about him.

Finally, there's a group of 'villains' simply called Faultline's crew. I say villains with quotations because while they certainly seem morally dubious, they're more like mercenaries than actual villains, and don't take jobs in Brockton Bay.

So, options.

The ABB are out because they're an entirely Asian gang and I'm not Asian. Also, Lung scares me because he turns into a dragon.

A dragon who can use fire, which could only be worse for me if he started radiating sunlight. 

The Merchants could have been a possibility because while they're weak there's potential there. Specifically, the potential for me to take over within a week because Skidmark is too high and stupid to be a leader, Mush is not leadership material, and Squealer doesn't seem particularly smart either.

But… they're disgusting. The Merchants live in squalor, and they reduce any area they take over to barely a step above derelict ruins, with trash, ruined buildings and ugly graffiti everywhere.

The Merchants themselves are almost all drug-addled fools, who don't take care of themselves at all. They're just so ugly, and I hate that more than the weakness of the Undersiders.

One day, I'm going to destroy them simply because of how hideous they make everything around them.

New Wave is both a family unit and also practically useless. The adult members barely even patrol anymore from what I've read, so they're going to be of no use to me.

So, the PRT, the Empire Eighty Eight or Faultline.

The good guys would probably disapprove of my hunting habits- I'm sure they'd make arrangements to ensure I'm fed, but I also suspect they'd try and leash me.

I can suppress my pride enough to play the hero. I'm not a superstar here, just another cape in the blender that is the hero and villain scene. It hurts to admit it, but denying the truth won't help.

That said, heroes are essentially celebrities here. Half the time they're on PR patrols and jobs, and I'm fucking amazing at PR.

I had people asking for my autograph while I was being led into court for mass murder, even when I was found guilty my fans still adored me.

I could absolutely become a superstar all over again, just for something a little more violent here.

I'd have to (temporarily) submit to the endless rules of the PRT, but even then… a hero rising in fame only to fall to villainy? That's always a good role.

The Empire might try to kill me before I can even 'apologise' for my loss of control, and they have enough capes to afford to turn me away. 

Plus, they're Neo-Nazis. I can certainly play the part of the white supremacist, but I don't think I'm better than other people because I'm white.

I'm superior to my fellow whites as well after all.

Faultline is a safer option, but they seem tightly-knit, a small band of cape mercenaries that have done a lot of jobs together. A close group like that would be more likely to notice any vampiric fuckery I try to pull to enthral the leader or turn her people against her.

I could of course not try and take over, but while I can accept not being in charge I can't accept not being in a position of power and respect.

Faultline's group is obviously led by Faultline herself, with a Case 53 named Gregor the Snail being her right hand, while the rest are 'equals'. The others would notice if I tried to supplant either of them.

Plus, Gregor is hideous. His appearance disgusts me, Case 53s are truly abominations. Newter is less offensive to the eyes, but my investigation has shown that I dislike Case 53s. 

I don't think I could take orders from Gregor, which is a problem, because while they seem to be recruiting, as I said they seem close-knit, and Faultline wouldn't accept me rightfully looking down on Gregor.

But, I still have some time to decide because I have some matters to take care of before I make any decisions.

I will not show up to wherever I am attempting to join wearing nothing but rags without a penny to my name, I will not be looked down at with pity when I should be gazed at with awe.

I also need to get stronger, because as I am now my disadvantages and diet make me barely worth the effort given my lacklustre powers.

Heading out into the darkness, I smile a toothy grin as a plan forms in the back of my head.

They found me by tracking the scent of the blood I ingested, but did it occur to Tattletale that I can do the same thing?

My nose twitches as I pick up Tattletale's scent, a flowery shampoo which stands out between the smell of wet dog and the more masculine body spray Grue uses.

Following the scent, I track them back to their hideout, all three scents leading back to an abandoned factory. Heh, we had the same idea.

Climbing to a vantage point, I get a look into one of the windows, showing off a mostly-hidden apartment with curtains covering it.

I know where you live.

I don't try anything tonight, slipping away as I make a note of the location. Now, onto the next step.

I'm thirsty, and I need to grow in power.

Sitting on a rooftop, I switch which sense I'm enhancing as I listen carefully. It's already getting very late, around 3 am, so most respectable people are already asleep.

It makes it easier to pick out the less respectable ones, head tilting as my smile grows. 

Stalking across the rooftops, I head towards the deal I could barely hear in the distance, arriving before it ends as I watch some rough-looking men handling this particular transaction.

One group eventually leaves with some white bricks, the other with a stained suitcase full of notes, unaware of their silent observer.

I would like a suitcase full of money.

Four Merchants head back to the van, their money in hand, while the others drive away.

Four-on-one, a risk I haven't taken yet, having targeted people on their own for the most part.

Still, as I watch the Merchants put the suitcase in the back of the van, Skidmark coming up in their conversation, I make my mind up and leap from the rooftop.

The first man never sees me coming as I land behind him with inhuman grace, my reflexes allowing me to snatch the pistol stashed in his belt, one arm wrapping around his neck as I draw the pistol and take aim.

His first friend dies before they even have time to turn around in response to his strangled shout, the arm wrapped tightly around his throat cutting him off as I put a hole in the middle of the head of the man closest to my money.

I've played no less than four secret agents, I know how to handle a gun. 

The Merchants obviously have little love for their friends, as the second man decides to take me and his friend out with a blast from a shotgun, which tears through my hostage and me alike as I return fire.

Two shots, three kills. Not a bad start as I let go of my shredded hostage, turning to the last man who is fearfully aiming a revolver at me, his arm still raising as time seemingly slows down as he fires.

It's still fast, the thick bullet moving at the speed of a car towards me as I move to the side and watch it fly past, readjusting my aim before I change my mind.

The second bullet clips me, as I throw my gun at the last man whose eyes widen in confusion and then pain as the pistol clonks him on the head.

It's enough of a distraction for me to rush him, pouncing forwards and colliding with him as I bite down on his neck, scowling even as I start to drain the struggling fool.

I normally make sure not to take too much, I don't want dead civilians on my hands after all, that's how you get hunted down like an animal.

This guy? 

His blood is poor quality, but quantity has a quality of its own. He struggles as much as he can with an unnaturally strong predator draining his life out of him, his pasty skin growing increasingly pale as I keep sucking him dry.

His struggles cease as his bodily functions start to fail, his life fading as I drink down his lifeblood until his veins are empty, my wounds rapidly healing from the influx of blood.

As his heart stops beating, I feel his meagre life force become mine, empowering me as I finally break my bite on his neck, wiping at my mouth as I move over to the suitcase, opening it up and smiling.

This will help, and hopefully give Skidmark a headache.

Moving to a body, I bite down on its neck before I almost immediately pull back with a look of disgust, spitting out a mouthful of sickening blood.

It's not gone cold yet, but it tastes foul nonetheless. Don't drink from corpses, message received.

Dragging the bodies into the van, I engage in a little friendly pyromania as I remove the suitcase. You'd be surprised how easy it is to cause a serious fire. I know my agent was.

Bitch shouldn't have stolen from me, we had a good thing going. 

I can't deny that the flames cause a primal fear in me, and it's hard to even look at them as I move away from the burning van.

Hopefully, Skidmark will think this was a deal gone wrong and attack whoever the other dudes were.

I don't care if he knows I did it, I just think it'd be funny and useful to start a gang war and distract people from me.

As I'm admiring my suitcase full of money, I pause. I can hear someone breathing.

This in itself wouldn't be particularly suspicious, but the breathing is coming from above me, on the rooftops.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a masked face watching me, the mask in the shape of a stern frowning woman which has been painted black.

I recognise it, but what's a Ward doing out so late on her own? Shadow Stalker doesn't make any move as I consider my options.

Attacking a Ward is definitely a questionable decision, but she's just seen me burning a bunch of bodies…

She's not talking, and I think I'd be able to hear if she had an earpiece in, is she on her own?

This could mess with my potential plans to join the PRT… but I don't want to let her run off and tell on me either.

— Sophia Hess (Shadow Stalker) —

The new cape was fast, able to dodge a bullet at close range, and he was strong too.

But beyond his strength was his brutality, killing the Merchants without even batting an eye, feeding on one of them.

She'd heard of women being attacked by a new cape in the area, feeding on them but leaving them mostly unharmed. 

The merchant hadn't been unharmed, drained until he was just a husk. Honestly, she admired his handiwork, he was a true predator. 

Kinda sloppy, but he took that shotgun blast and walked it off like it was nothing, so he had the durability to survive his fuck-ups.

The cape moved, unaware that she was watching him, going around the corner with his loot in hand.

She moved to a different spot, wanting to keep watching him before she paused. Where the fuck did he go?

He was out of her line of sight for a second, but he'd seemingly disappeared from existence.

Frowning, she looked around for a while before she called it a night. She'd planned on doing some hunting herself, but the fire would probably attract some attention, so she'd leave it for now.

With practised ease, she got back to one of her hideouts in the docks, plenty of rundown buildings that nobody would check, starting to change out of her spare cape outfit and into the clothes she snuck out of the house in, hiding her crossbow bolts.

"Ah, so that's it. You've been naughty, little hero," a deep voice said, making her jump out of her skin, only dressed in her bra and jeans as she spun around, seeing the balaclava-clad cape she'd previously been watching standing in the doorway.

She dove for her crossbow, before cursing. She'd just taken the real bolts out of it, and before she could reach it, he was in between her and her weapon, pushing her back with casual ease.

"What the fuck are-" Sophia started, panicking for multiple reasons. Her lack of a mask, her proximity to a dangerous cape that didn't mind killing, and the fact that he was in one of her hideouts.

He picked up one of her crossbow bolts, sniffing it.

"Dried blood. So the Wards' redeemed vigilante isn't as tamed as they think," the man chuckled, making her growl even as she backed away, as much as she wished she could pretend otherwise, his presence was intimidating as he turned to her, bright red eyes locked onto her.

"You're breaking the unwritten rules asshole, you can't come after someone out of their mask," Sophia warned, trying to sound tough as his rich laughter filled her hideout.

"Ah, but I was chasing Shadow Stalker, it's not my fault you didn't realise and decided to change. Stalker indeed, or did you think your observations went unnoticed?" he asked, tossing the bolt aside.

"You're a stranger," she realised, making his smile grow, his fangs on display as he removed his balaclava.

The incredibly attractive man gave her a sly smirk, defined cheekbones and long black hair making him look like the textbook definition of a vampire.

"Amongst other things, little hunter," he said with a tone that was equally sultry and dark. She prepared to go into her shadow form, trying to work out how the hell to deal with him seeing her face. "Calm yourself, little hunter. I was planning on… silencing you, but I think we might be more alike than I first realised. You're not the tamed attack dog the PRT likes to pretend you are, are you?" he asked, making her pause

Of course, she wasn't fucking tamed, all the PRT had done was make her act more subtly.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to keep quiet about my little games, I want Skidmark to blame his client for the attack and go wild, and I want your blood," he said simply, making her freeze. "Oh, don't worry. I won't bite, without your permission. What you want is for me to not draw attention to your secret patrols, to the blood on your bolts."

"I wasn't going to tell the PRT anyway. I've got too many sanctions for 'unauthorised' patrols," Sophia admitted, making him chuckle.

"Ah, I see. They don't like you slipping your leash, do they?" he asked, making her frown but she didn't deny his words. "Do they pay you well?"

"Ha, fuck no," Sophia replied immediately, glancing at the suitcase he'd brought with him.

"So, my silence for your silence, a fair trade," he said, stepping forwards and placing a hand on her chin, stroking her cheek with a fanged smile. "Then all that's left is for you to name a price for your blood. It won't hurt, it's actually rather pleasurable, and I won't take too much."

His voice sent shivers through her body, which she suppressed. 

"What do you want my blood for? You just drained a man dry," Sophia replied, flinching back as he moved closer, with her head tilted back he leaned down and gently kissed her neck, she should have run, but something kept her in place as she felt his lips on her neck.

He didn't bite, like he said he wouldn't.

"I'm a glutton, and his blood was so… low quality. I prefer female blood and I've found that the blood of capes tastes even sweeter," he whispered, dangerously close as she found herself frozen in place.

"I want a quarter of what you got from those Merchants," Sophia finally said, having no idea how much money that even was. She wasn't going to back down, and if he tried to drain her she could just phase out of his grip.

"Deal~" 

His fangs pierced her neck, but much like he promised it wasn't pain that flooded her but pleasure, shivering as she felt him drinking her essence, moaning at the sensation.

One of his arms wrapped around her, embracing her as their bodies pressed together, an orgasmic feeling flooding her entire body until he finally pulled back, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Such a sweet taste for such a sour girl," he teased, licking her neck briefly as she whimpered, her entire body shuddering from the aftershock of the climax she'd been dragged to.

Despite how thorny she usually was, as the man whose name she still didn't know kissed her, she just tilted her head and let the handsome older man take her first kiss.

Her mind clouded with pleasure, she barely noticed her bra being removed, the mysterious cape whispering sweet nothings into her ear as her trousers and panties joined them.

He moved her onto a table, sitting her at the edge as he undid his belt, spreading her legs with a cocky grin as her pleasure faded enough for her to realise her situation, but as he gave her that fanged smile, she just looked away, her legs spreading in silent submission as she felt the thick tip of his cock press against her virgin slit.

This wasn't like her, acting so submissive, but as she looked into his primal eyes, she knew she was in the presence of a fellow predator, someone like her.

Someone worthy of the virginity he ruthlessly took, a single thrust sheathing his large manhood inside her as she whimpered, his hands on her ass as he started to thrust into her.

"A virgin?" he asked in that deep voice, kissing her neck again, right on the bite mark. "And here you are, giving it away to a man whose name you don't even know."

His tone was teasing, but before she could respond, he bit down on her neck again, her eyes rolling back with pleasure at the dual sensation of his shaft thrusting into her tight slit and his fangs drinking her in.

Madison was the slutty one in their group, Emma was too obsessed with Hebert for dating even if she had half the boys in school wrapped around her finger, and Sophia herself just didn't find the boys interesting.

They were weak, even the junior gang members, and her fellow Wards were all pathetic, but this guy? He was a predator, he saw something he wanted and decided to take it.

He didn't ask for her permission, he just stripped her down and had his way with her, her fingers digging into his back as she whimpered and moaned.

"That's it, cum for me, little hunter," he whispered, his voice travelling through her entire body as she shuddered, legs wrapping around his waist and locking behind his back.

He thought like her, that was why he called her hunter. He knew they were both predators, which is why it felt so right when she did exactly as he told her to and came around his thrusting cock.

— Alexander Shaw —

Teenage girls are so very easily manipulated. This girl reeks of daddy issues, and a mixture of my Lingering Kiss and Awe keeps her in line as I pull out only to flip her onto her front, sliding right back into her tight wet cunt.

Hey, it's been a while for me. I used to have supermodels and actresses in my bed, and while the athletic dark-skinned teen is a downgrade from them, she's very tight.

Her fit lifestyle means she's got an athletic figure, not the best I've seen, but certainly in better shape than a lot of the models that warmed my bed.

I'm just glad I can still get it up, despite my vampiric nature. Consider this a test that all the plumbing is working.

This girl sees herself as a badass, and I've read up on all the capes in this city over the past week. Not needing to sleep leads to a lot of free time during the daylight hours. Shadow Stalker is the PRT's prized redemption case.

"Look, we took a dangerous and violent vigilante and made her into a proper hero!" Only they failed and either haven't realised or don't want to admit it.

Those bolts have killed or at least heavily hurt people, I could smell the blood on them, some very old and some more recent.

She thinks she's complicated, but she's laughably simple.

For now, she moans in the rundown building she stashes her stuff in, my thrusts growing increasingly feral as I use my new position to truly go to town on her tight cunt.

The table shakes with each thrust before the old rotten wood simply breaks and leaves us in a pile of broken wood, Shadow Stalker is barely able to catch herself onto her hands and knees as I pound her pussy with my vampiric strength, spanking her firm backside as I go.

One hand reaches around her body and gropes her fairly small breast, roughly tweaking her nipple because I'm pretty sure she likes pain, her slit tightening down on my invading phallus with each spank.

Can I knock someone up? I genuinely don't know. I was always careful in my past life, there were too many gold diggers looking for an easy pass through life by getting knocked up by someone as rich and famous as me, but I'm a vampire.

I'm pretty sure I'm not fertile, so when the time comes I don't bother pulling out, gripping her hips as I slam forwards with a satisfied groan, unleashing my seed into her warm wet teenage cunt.

I'm only twenty myself, but I'd guess she's closer to sixteen or maybe slightly lower. 

As I pull out with a pleased sigh, I pause as I watch her slump over, ass in the air with my seed leaking from her abused slit.

She doesn't move, only her breathing filling the room as I scratch my chin. Did she really pass out?

Well, I'm a man of my word, and opening the suitcase, I leave some of the money on the floor next to her, looking around for something to write on.

Does she realise she just became a whore, selling her blood and body? Probably not, but ah well.

For now, I slip out into the night with a grin on my face. Shadow Stalker will be under Lingering Kiss for as long as her blood is inside me, which could last a while if I don't use it for powers, since I took a little more than I should have.

Not enough to actually hurt her, she'll just be a little lethargic tomorrow.

Obtenebration Unlocked 

[Obtenebration, Discipline of Shadows: Novice]

[Shadow Play]

Allows the vampire to manipulate the natural shadows around them.

Huh, that's interesting.

Shadow Stalker can turn into a shadowy form, and I got this after feeding on her. That's curious.

Licking my lips, I force myself to not go back and drain her entirely. I have plans for her if I do decide to join our beloved heroes.

She thinks we have a mutual secret, that we'd both suffer if we told on the other, a state of mutually assured destruction keeping us both quiet.

She gave away how worried she was about her bosses actually looking into her secret hunts. Body language is a bitch and she has poor control over it.

I'm hoping that means the PRT are too busy or incompetent to actually pay too much attention to what their heroes are up to. It'll make things easier for me later.

— Sophia Hess —

Waking up, she blinked carefully as she rose up, wincing at the soreness between her legs.

What the hell had come over her, letting some cape she didn't even know fuck her… oh shit, was he a master?

No, she was being ridiculous, she wouldn't be waking up unharmed if he had mastered her into this, and she probably wouldn't be able to think he was a master.

He was just a hot, dangerous cape who checked all her boxes.

Oh god, she was as easy as Madison.

Her hand touched the bite marks on her lower neck, small fang marks that were already starting to slowly close, her dark skin making them harder to spot.

Looking around, her eyes widened at the large pile of neatly stacked notes, her payment for her body- blood, for her blood.

She wasn't some hooker, selling her ass on a street corner.

Next to it was a note, short and sweet.

'Until we meet again, Alexander'

Alexander. Not a cape name but his real first name? She knew his face as well, was that to reassure her that he wouldn't expose her identity?

The Empire would make sure she had an accident if it came out that the vigilante who shot a bunch of their guys was a black girl.

She didn't believe for a moment that they'd follow the unwritten rules, they'd just make it seem like an accident or unrelated.

She might be tough, but if she was caught by surprise she was just as vulnerable to bullets as anyone else and there were dozens of junior skinheads who'd love to make themselves known by putting her down.

Alexander, huh?

Also… holy shit that's a lot of money. 

 Suddenly her stash didn't feel as safe, because where the fuck was she supposed to put the drug money she'd suddenly ended up with?

— Alexander Shaw — Next Night — 

Leaving the store, I smile at my new outfit.

It's past regular opening hours, but it seems the stores of this city are used to strange customers only paying in cash.

For a notable donation, they were willing to open up late for a single special customer.

I spent a lot of Skidmark's money on a new wardrobe, my expensive dark red shirt with black patterns suiting me far better than the trash I've worn lately.

I've even managed to arrange for an apartment, with a landlord who doesn't mind me paying entirely in cash.

It's in ABB territory, and the fact that I only want to pay in cash has made the price go up considerably, but it'll do for now.

Awe is useful because it's not blatant enough for people to start screaming master, but it gives me an edge in negotiations. 

Unfortunately, I've been so busy tonight that I've not had time to spy on the Merchants to see how they took my little bit of mischief, but I think I can count on a drug-addled fool acting rashly.

The Merchants aren't particularly respected from what I can tell, being treated like a joke by most of the online community, but they're an infestation that's hard to root out.

But alas, that's for another day, because tonight I have business elsewhere.

Making a trip to my admittedly small apartment, I drop my clothes off and head out again. Occasionally I get a look from gang members but Awe convinces people that I'm not worth the risk, my walk more of a prowl, giving off the impression that I'm more dangerous than I might look at first glance.

Arriving at my destination, I reluctantly join the queue, an experience I've never had to endure before, but soon enough I get gestured at, entering the club and smiling at the bouncer as I walk past.

Hot people rarely need to wait to get into clubs like this, and while it's more common for girls to get in faster, I'm not surprised they picked me out.

Walking into the club, I look around. Pleased to see that I'm attracting attention even without using Awe, heading to the bar to get myself a drink.

I don't need to eat or drink, but I still can and thank fuck for that, because I'm a big believer in fine dining. 

"Welcome to the Palanquin, what can I get you?" The cute bartender asks as I lean against the bar, spotting an orange-skinned figure surrounded by a group of young men and women who seem high as a fucking kite.

Giving the bartender a smile, I scan the room again.

Hey, I had to check out the place if I was considering joining up, right?