12

You did some things that a normal person might regret in those early nights to satisfy your needs. Your Kiss was so intense that a mere bite wasn't enough to paralyze your target with pleasure. Instead, you learned to silence their screams with a well-placed hand and a quick blood-choke. Rather than the Kiss erasing your target's memories, a good hard punch to the stomach made them believe they were just mugged. Even with all your skills, sometimes things went wrong. But you've become a better hunter since then, and you don't just attack anyone. You know how to identify prime targets, those who are vulnerable but not dangerous: a drug addict without drugs in their system, or someone who should be taking medication but isn't.

Recalling how you used to hunt makes your teeth ache with hunger. You almost run down the fire escape of the Viper. Tucson isn't a city of tall buildings and narrow alleys, so you hunt in underpasses, behind 7-Elevens, and outside liquor stores.

You pass by drunks with enough alcohol in their veins to knock you out, tweakers who might fight back, or anyone who looks like they have military training. Around 2:00 a.m., you hear a man crying and yelling, his haggard face illuminated by the light of a cell phone. Furious, he throws the phone at a brick wall, breaking it, then stumbles onto his hands and knees, weeping.

You pounce on him before he can get up. Your Hunger is so intense that you drink and drink, even as your prey fights and tries to scream. He only stops when he starts to die. When you close your eyes, you feel like someone is watching you: observing, evaluating. You toss the man onto the broken pavement and wipe your bloody chin. You almost lost control there.

When you look around for the observer, you see no one.

This man has lost a lot of blood, and he just broke his phone. You don't want any casualties on your first night, so you lick his neck, sealing the wounds, and drag him beneath a street light. Someone will notice him and call 911 soon enough.

It won't always be that easy, you think as you sit on a park bench, sluggishly moving your stolen blood around your body. New vampires can always have fun for the first few nights, but then other Kindred learn about your tricks, or hunters notice statistical anomalies, or the herd itself instinctively reacts to the invisible predator in their midst. But tonight you feel good.

A Lotus Esprit Turbo in powder blue rolls up to the curb, blaring synthwave loud enough to scare the crows. The driver flings a parcel your way. When you pick it up, he peels out.

The parcel contains a card for a pawnshop. Written on the back: Cars. There's also an extended-stay ticket for a parking garage, with a four-digit key code written on the back. So it looks like you have a place to park.

Next

You won't always be that lucky, you think as you sit on a park bench, sluggishly moving your stolen blood around your body. New vampires can always have fun for the first few nights, but then other Kindred learn about your tricks, or hunters notice statistical anomalies, or the herd itself instinctively reacts to the invisible predator in their midst. But tonight you feel good.

A Lotus Esprit Turbo in powder blue rolls up to the curb, blaring synthwave loud enough to scare the crows. The driver flings a parcel your way. When you pick it up, he peels out.

The parcel contains a card for a pawnshop. Written on the back: Cars. There's also an extended-stay ticket for a parking garage, with a four-digit key code written on the back. So it looks like you have a place to park.

As you walk to the pawnshop, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've managed to find a place to park your new car, a rare achievement in this city. The pawnshop is located in a relatively safe neighborhood, which is a bonus. As you approach the shop, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. This is your first real car, and you've worked hard to acquire it.

When you enter the pawnshop, you're greeted by a friendly employee who seems genuinely happy to see you. He explains that the car has been in their inventory for a while, and they're glad to finally find a buyer. As you discuss the terms of the sale, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement. This car is a symbol of your hard work and determination, and you can't wait to drive it home.

As you leave the pawnshop, you feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. You've not only found a place to park your new car, but you've also managed to purchase it. This is a major milestone in your life, and you can't help but feel a bit giddy. As you drive your new car home, you can't help but think about the adventures that await you.

Even after midnight, it feels dangerous to run across the wide, palm tree-lined boulevard that leads to your destination. You need a car. You're itching like earlier when you needed blood, only now the need is to move fast, to stop fighting the shape of this city and start flowing through it the way it wants you to. By the end of tonight you either need to buy a car or learn how to turn into a bat because Tucson is no place for pedestrians.

Covenant Pawn Shop is wedged between an auto repair shop and a nail salon, across from a TitleMax. Signs read Cash For Guns, We Buy Gold, and Closed.

You step into the sad, dusty spiritual void of the pawnshop. You pass PS4 games, bedazzled purses, a glass case full of rings (¡Regalo Perfecto!), and enough rifles to conquer Belgium. The first thing you do is stock up on a few necessities of your trade: a few duffel bags and rucksacks, a mini crowbar, a small folding knife, a folding shovel, a hacksaw, some lock picks, matches, cord, electrician's tape, a flashlight, another blood and tissue kit, spare USBs, and a portable tool kit.

You stop at the knives, because you recognize the silver knife in one display case. Jasper Knowles was holding it before he was killed. Or maybe it's just a knockoff of some movie prop or something, you can't be sure. But…that's weird.

Next

Even after midnight, it feels perilous to dash across the wide, palm tree-lined boulevard that leads to your destination. You need a car. The urge to move swiftly is as strong as the earlier need for blood. By the end of tonight, you either need to buy a car or learn how to transform into a bat because Tucson is no place for pedestrians.

Covenant Pawn Shop is nestled between an auto repair shop and a nail salon, across from a TitleMax. Signs read Cash For Guns, We Buy Gold, and Closed.

You enter the forlorn, dusty interior of the pawnshop. Passing PS4 games, bedazzled purses, a glass case full of rings (¡Regalo Perfecto!), and enough rifles to conquer Belgium, you stock up on a few necessities of your trade: duffel bags and rucksacks, a mini crowbar, a small folding knife, a folding shovel, a hacksaw, lock picks, matches, cord, electrician's tape, a flashlight, another blood and tissue kit, spare USBs, and a portable tool kit.

You pause at the knives, recognizing the silver one in a display case. Jasper Knowles was holding it before he was killed. Or perhaps it's just a replica of some movie prop, but it's still unsettling.

As you continue your search, you can't shake the feeling of unease. The pawnshop's dim lighting and the eclectic assortment of items create an eerie atmosphere. Despite the oddity of the situation, you remain focused on finding a suitable mode of transportation, determined to navigate the city on your own terms.