Down Low in Mexico

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Date: Unknown (2006) - Location: Chiapas, Mexico

When I awoke, I thought I was in hell. It was a wretched place. The heat was stifling and though no light penetrated the walls, I felt the heavy fatigue that always came with daylight. Nonetheless, I struggled to my feet, fighting against the disorientation that hit me within instants. There was a light ahead, dim and yellow, and I shuffled towards it, unthinking. As I neared it, I saw that it was a lamp with a paper shade muting the garish bulbs glow. In the circle of light it created, I saw a table and on the table there was a letter...

Gabriel,

Had to fly! Will be back asap.
There's blood in the fridge.
Don't go outside, you might
run into el chupacabra!

- Crowley

As I read, the words blurred and seemed to grow distant, my sight loosing focus. Behind me, something moaned, and I turned sharply to see who or what had made the sound – becoming aware, for the first time since waking, that I was not alone. A figure lay on the dirty mattress I had just risen from, peering at me through the darkness.

Sansa...

[Sansa]

She had been a vampire for a week.

Part of that time had been spent in confused denial. But, whatever she was, Sansa was not stupid, and after the two days... nights? they had spent in the pyramid she had managed to wrap her head around it.

That is not to say she had come to terms with it. She had spent most of her time worrying about Gabriel, and staying within arms reach of him. Thaddeus had said that Gabe would come around soon, after draining the hideous thing they'd found under the pyramid, and she'd spent an anxious night pacing the tiny house they'd been left in before collapsing to the ground with exhaustion as day broke. Wrapping her arms around Gabriel's prone body, she'd passed into unconsciousness.

Now, he was awake, and moving. Groggy and barely able to open her eyes, Sansa propped herself up on her elbows, trying to see where he was going. There were sounds outside the thick walls... people laughing. Children playing. The ocean. Wordlessly she held her hands out to him, and he stumbled back towards her, his cool hand taking hers. She pulled him back down to the mattress, and they fell back into sleep - or whatever it was that happened to vampires during the day.

A few hours later she opened her eyes, feeling more energy pouring into her. Her limbs no longer felt like they were chained to the floor, as they did during the day. Sansa sat up, brushing her messy hair out of her face, and reaching down for Gabriel. He wasn't there.

With a cry she leapt to her feet, running through the two rooms of the house and then out the front door, flinging it open so hard it banged shut behind her. A tall figure with hair that shone in the moonlight was standing a few yards away on the sand, looking out at the starlit waves that crashed onto the beach. She called out to him, with a voice that wept for answers and companionship. She was feeling the pull of the Beast as well. Thaddeus had told her a little, but said that it was Gabriel's duty to teach her the vampiric ways.

She called to him again. "Gabriel!"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I was lost inside my thoughts then, consumed with the memories that were returning with ever-increasing clarity. When I had first risen, I could not recall how I had survived the confrontation at Stonehenge but the truth of it was slowly returning to me, and with it came a sense of overwhelming self-loathing, a level of disgust I'd never known before.

I had committed many transgressions in life, and an even greater number in death, but the shame of this made the rest seem trivial. As if it had not been enough that I had condemned Sansa to an unforgiving eternity of darkness... I had brought her into my world, where I would be expected to teach her the Traditions of the Masquerade – only to sin against it myself by... I can hardly even think it. I had committed an unforgivable crime, one which I could only assume was the cause of our exile in Mexico. It gnawed at me from within.

Diablerie.

The blood and life-force of an ancient burned through my veins, but all the strength and perception it gave me wouldn't be enough to protect me should the Camarilla discover my heresy. The ancient vampire we had uncovered, Mictlantecuhtli, was of little consequence to the modern world – but the Traditions transcended all borders and boundaries. Even I, as Prince, would have delivered pitiless judgement to those who committed such an abominable act. I could right it all, and submit myself to the will of... whoever controlled London now (Roland, I hoped) – but at what cost? For all I knew, they were coming for me already. At least there was some peace in the silence and stillness of the ocean...

“Gabriel!”

Sansa. She was my burden now, and I hers. I wondered if she had any idea what I had done, or if the force of the blood-bond I had locked her into would blind her to my failings. I half-turned to look towards her, and mustered the smallest of smiles, before turning my attention back to the sea and the relentless tide.

[Sansa]

He turned towards her, then back to the waves. Sansa felt a stab of fear. Had she done something wrong? Had she upset him? But he had smiled... Still...

Barefoot she walked out into the night, padding across the cool sand towards Gabriel. The sea was beautiful, glimmering in the moonlight as the sudsy waves rolled up onto the sand. Standing next to Gabe, Sansa took his hand and entwined her fingers in his. She looked up at him. "I was so scared for you..." I thought I'd lost you. I thought that I was going to be alone in this. She had been scared for herself.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Did she look on our surroundings, then, and see safety, freedom? I had escaped Final Death at the hands of the Baa'li, the Sabbat and a kindred far older than any I had ever known – but the Camarilla would not be so hard to escape. How long would it be before they knew the truth of what had transpired in that ancient temple?

Three others had witnessed it: the shapeshifter Crowley, Thaddeus Post, and Post's ghoul. What loyalty did any of them have to me? The wereraven questioned everything and I didn't doubt for a moment that he would understand what I had done, but he was not beholden to the Camarilla. Perhaps he would remain silent, treasuring the secret as he did any trinket. Post, however, would be obligated to confess what he knew. How would the Primogen react? Would Roland craft a mournful obituary for me, or would he be sickened at what I had lowered myself to? It was impossible to predict how the balance between the personal and the public would tip.

Until then, we were trapped. My mobile-phone had been destroyed at some time in the jungle, and Crowley had left no means for us to contact the outside world. Would he return when our source of blood had dwindled to nothing? A felt a stirring of the Beast then, and suddenly my hold on Sansa's hand tightened. I turned to look down at her. How long could we stay there? How long could I delude her into thinking that soon we would be back in London in my apartment, and that everything would be back to normal?

“...how are you feeling?”

[Sansa]

She shrugged, looking away from him. "Numb. Hungry." Weirded out that she no longer had to breathe.

"Cold."

Terrified. Now she was a monster... just like Katarina Gordislava. "I didn't get a chance to say it earlier. But, thank you. For saving me."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Sansa no longer clung to me. Perhaps she was beginning to see clearly, for the first time, what I was. She was a part of the Masquerade now, after all. Before she had looked on with no knowledge of its workings, only a fascination for its beauty - but up close, it lost all sense of mystique and magic and became little more than a civilized cover for manipulation and bloodshed on a massive scale. The world was our stage and we were skilled players, one and all, but eventually the lights would come up and in their harsh gaze all our imperfections were plain to see...

“Saving you... from what?”

[Sansa]

"...dying..?" Sansa couldn't help the little question mark at the end. "I just want to be with you."

A surge of emotion traveled up from her stomach, and tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged herself close to his arm again. "I... its been..." Sansa's voice broke as a red tear streaked down her pale cheek and her legs weakened.

She sat down in the sand. "I just kept telling myself that everything was going to be okay. You'd... make it better." A bloody tear dripped off the end of her nose into the white sand. "I... I..." Sansa buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

So many lies... would another really make a difference?

“I will make everything better.”

It wasn't only Sansa I was trying to convince. I had to believe in the possibility, myself, that I could some how emerge from all of this with, if not my status, then at least my life intact. Then again, what was one without the other? My whole existence was entangled with the Camarilla and though like all Kindred I could survive on nothing other than vitae, any periods of prolonged solitude I had endured had been monstrous. I needed the presence, the vitality, the beauty of others to give my life greater meaning. Sansa had given me all of this and, more, her life. How could I have been so careless with it?

Crouching down beside her, I cupped one cold hand to Sansa's cheek.

“I will make everything better.”

[Sansa]

She leaned into his hand, sobs abating slowly. He would make everything okay. Taking a deep, unnecessary, but calming breath, she looked up, her eyes glistening in the moonlight.

"What do we do now, then?" Sansa tried to smile. "I've never been out of the country before..."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“We should wait for Kristopher to come back,” I said, after a long pause to give the question some serious consideration. I narrowed my eyes slightly, looking off into the horizon.

“I'm not sure... exactly where we are, but as long as we have one another...” I added. It was difficult to sound reassuring in the circumstances, without lying. There was, however, truth to what I said. As long as we had eachother, we could survive – even without bags of blood Crowley had left in the refrigerator.

I still felt the elder in my veins, but it occurred to me that the journey might have left Sansa not feeling quite so satisfied. But how to broach such a topic...

“Are you.. do you feel,” I hesitated. “Hungry?”

[Sansa]

She nodded, hesitantly. Her last full... meal... had been in the jungle. "I had some... um... from the fridge..." She couldn't bring herself to say blood. "It was cold." Sansa's mouth twisted unhappily.

She clung to him, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Cold blood served its purpose just as warm, but there was something undeniably disappointing about it, particularly for those Kindred in possession of more refined tastes. I had spent my post-Embrace life feeding on the living and now, with the hunger of an ancient to contend with, I did not think I would be able to settle for anything that was not freshly from the vein to my lips. Sansa too, as a fledgling, would be unsatisfied by blood bags – yet we could not survive on each other.

What was needed was a living donor, but Mexico was not London. I had no contacts to call upon, no Roland to fetch something – or rather someone – appetizing. Yet, there were people nearby; I had heard them in the days previously, or at least I believed I had...

A hunt was the only option. I thought of my own awakening, and how Nobu had been so nonchalant in explaining that we were predators, meant to prey on the weak. I couldn't bear to think of Sansa seeing me as any more of a monster than I suspect she already did.

“Wait here, and I'll find something better,” I said, gently pulling away.

[Sansa]

He moved as though he was going to leave her but she held onto his hand just a little bit longer, finally releasing him after a long moment. "All right." Sansa settled back on her heels in the sand. "I'll... I'll just be here."

Gabriel moved away, disappearing into some shadows. He seemed different than before - thinner, perhaps. His face was still slightly drawn from his near death experience, and Sansa felt bad about letting him go on his own. Surely he might need her help...?

She stared off into the distance, the moonlight dancing on the ocean. The salt air smelled brighter and cleaner than she'd ever experienced - but then the coast of England was a lot different than the beaches of South America. Sansa scrunched her toes, her feet digging under the surface of the sand. Every sensation seemed... better. The world was more beautiful.

Even the shacks and obviously poor neighborhood that she and Gabriel had been dropped in had a beauty in the moonlight, if not the best odor. She trailed her fingers in the white sand, building a small hill. After a moment Sansa dug in deeper, drawing up the wetter sand underneath the surface, and began sculpting a castle.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

The night was dark, unfamiliar. I moved towards the town with hesitant steps. It felt like being new born again, those first terrifying nights, months even. The fear, the uncertainty, and knowing that the world was not as it had once been but had instead been transformed into some terrifying mirror of itself. It had all come full circle, the illusion of safety that surrounded London having been stripped away. Until some semblance of order was restored – if it ever was – I had to begin carving out a new niche, a back-up plan...

There were few lights illuminated in the town. As I passed by window panes, more memories of the nights following my Embrace returned: sneaking up to the family home to peer in at mys brother sleeping, grinning with mischief through the darkened glass as he awoke with a start, eyes wide. Just the sight of me - feral and feckless - then had been enough to drive him into the gates of Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum.

Back then – and I take no pleasure in recalling this – whores had been my prey of choice. The streets were littered with them and they, for their part, enjoyed the experience almost as much as I did – but there were no whores in that small Mexican town. Only vagrants and beggars who looked puzzled at the sight of man in a crumpled suit looming above them.

[Sansa]

The castle kept crumbling and the walls wouldn't form correctly beneath her pale fingers. Sansa pounded it with her fist in frustration, scattering the sand around her feet.

Where was Gabriel? She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling small and vulnerable without him by her side. What if something had happened to him? What would she do?

She got up, dusted damp sand off her hands, and walked slowly back to the tiny 'house' that was home for now. Sansa looked at her bare feet as they sank into the sand beneath her with each step, the texture and sensation nearly breathtaking.

A steady drumbeat invaded her reverie, and she looked up to find a man standing in front of her, at the door several meters ahead. She'd left it ajar when she'd come out in search of Gabriel, but it appeared that not everyone in this sleepy little village was actually asleep.

Truncheon in hand, the police officer was prodding the door open. Bum-bump. Bum-bump. Senses heightened, Sansa's nostrils flared slightly as she walked silently towards him.