FID Demise

Forever In Darkness- Demise
Warnings;Swearing, violence, M/M throughout story, er...that's it I think.
Summary:Trouble strikes New York's secret community of supernaturals and paranormals, and
this time, it isn't Neo's fault...We think.
AN: Er, none for now really, except that you probably should read FID One before reading this.

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Chapter One- Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy


Danny Smith shuffled down the stairwell of his accounting office building, his arms stuffed to overflowing
with papers he had yet to finish. The buildings automatic security system turned on at one pm, so he was
taking his work home before he got locked inside. His wife would be upset, she always hated the fact that
he always worked so late, but also took extra work home. She didn't seem to complain when he brought
home an extra large pay check.

Danny grumbled as he juggled his papers to open the door to the offices parking lot, wishing the doors
didn't swing in instead of out. He was half way across the parking lot when he noticed an unfimillar car sitting
sideways in a parking spott. When you worked in a place, even in a busy city like New York, for over ten years,
you became aware of things that were out of place. Seeing as the front door of the car was open, yet nobody
was around, Danny decided to go investigate.

The account papers fell to the cement ground, fluttering in the light pooling out from the car door, as the
40 year old accountant let out a strangled cry of fear. Stretched out over the front seats of the car was what
looked like a man sized, gutted, rat. The upholstery of the vehecal, which was nomarlly tan colored if the still
clean head rest was any indicator, was stained red and torn open in several places. Danny took a few steps
backwards when he heard the cold sound of a gun being cocked. He didn't even manage to turn around before
his brain matter joined the mess already in the car.

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Nightstalk was a large warehouse turned nightclub in downtown New York, the closest thing to a private
club one could get without a membership registery, and extreammly popular. On any given night, the line up
would reach over seven blocks long, and the inside of the two story building was always crowded with people of
all sorts. The most interesting aspect of the club, was the fact that it catered only to a less well known populous
of the city-the supernatural and paranormal inhabitants.

The club was one of Neo Eswan's favoured hangouts, as it severed drinks that were more potent then
those served at a human bar, and because it was a good place to learn things about the supernatural community.
It was always a good idea to keep informed of who and what was in town, and who was having troubles with whom.
With a all the different types of beings that called New York home, it was a hard job for the various 'authority'
figures of the groups to keep everyone happy.

When Neo pulled up infront of the club on his Harley Davidson, sitting straight backed in an image
of perfect poster. The man was dressed in tight black jeans, a sleeveless black turtleneck, and a long
demin coat. He had turquoise eyes that shimmered in the dim light of the parking lot, and shoulder long
blond hair tinted blue with wash out hair dye. He was confused to see that the regular line up wasn't present.
There were strobe lights flashing in the windows, showing that the place was indeed open, but nobody
seemed to be around. Even the parking lot was, for once, half empty, instead of being overfull. Being a
naturally curious being, Neo dismounted his bike and went over to the front door.

There was no bouncer at the door, not that one would be needed if nobody was coming in the
club. Bouncers were mainly for show at NightStalk anyways, seeing as it was fortified by magic to be
a 'non-agressive zone'-really, all Bouncer did was track the types of coustomers and such for the owners
refrence. Inside the one time warehouse, only a small cluster of people were present-most of which Neo
recognised. They were clan members of New York's Were-Rat community, and lived either in the clubs
basement, or town houses near by.

"What's going on here? Some sort of private party?" The blond queried, walking across the
hardwood floor towards the group seeing as there was nobody behind any of the bar counters. They all
turned their attention in the direction of the blond, eight pairs of narrowed, suspicous eyes locked on him.
Neo had originally intended to go right up to the table and sit down, but changed his mind at the clearly
pissed off looks he was recieving.

"We are closed, Lovertalker." Cecil, an old and usually witty Worldslider snapped, ruddy eyes
darkening to a pure black color.

It was unusual for someone to name Neo's race-be it in Gahdieg or English-so the blond was
momentarily to startled to respond. After a moment, his shocked expression turned into a frown. "Someone
woke up on the wrong side of the cage this morning." He spat at the shorter male, though with a
controlled amount of venom. He wasn't stupid enough to out right insult a Slider when out numbered by
more then half a dozen.

"Ignore Cecil, Neo, we have not had a very pleasant evening." A female rat who Neo didn't
recognise spoke, and Neo raised a thin brow at her.

"Oh? Did a ShadowWalker pay a visit or something?" Neo asked loftily, a grin on his angular face,
recieving a small bitter smile from the she-rat.

Cecil snarled, and another of the eight rats echoed him. Apparently, the evening had been far from
enjoyable for the lot, if the normally sociable supernaturals were being so defensive and hostile. He'd either
have to watch his words or leave, or cause a brawl in the most prominent supernatural establishment in the
entire city. Something that would result in a long scathing talk with his Lord and a follow up fight with his
hosts. The latter wasn't nessicarly a problem-fighting with his current care giver usually had positive results.

"Look, not to be rude Neo, I know your a friend of Lord Nenan's, but it would be appreciated if
you'd leave." Monaco, another She-Rat, spoke in a dismisive tone, and Neo had a feeling she didn't care
about being rude or not. Probably wanted to be rude.

Neo curled his lips back, fists clenching to the point where his nails dug into thin silver scars across
his palms, and hissed between clenched teeth. "Fine, have a lovely evening. Tell the shorty that I stopped
by." He spun on his heels, letting his long denim coat twirl with him and reveal the flash of metalic blue Fae
weapons concealed beneath it. The front door had been open when he came in, but he slammed it closed
behind anyways for effect.

Sometimes Neo had a hard time holding himself back from out right slaughtering people-be they
humans, vampires, demons, or even his own kind and kin. It was coupled with his suicidal tendancies-he
always used weapons designed to be able to harm any supernaturals even Fae, and he almost always carried
his one true weakness around with him. His Lord had tried to cure him of it upon claiming him decades
ago, still worked at it occasionally, but it was a lost cause. Habits were hard to brake, esspeacially for
immortals with short attention spans.

Mounting his bike outside the club, the male took a few deep breaths. He had been on his way to
visit the Harlem-Bronx Vampire coven, one of the two major covens in the area, when he'd stopped at the bar.
He was to deliever a message to their Master Vampire, a man named Turnicle Ubron, or something of the sort.
Apparently the man had pissed of the Alpha Coven, run mainly out of Manhatten, and Neo's Lord Fae had
offered Neo's services as a go-between. The task was beneath Neo, but things were slow in the City of late,
atleast on the supernatural side of things.

Hopefully Turnicle would keep pissing off the Alpha Coven, and Neo would be allowed to take care of
him then. With that pleasant thought, he started his bike and kicked up the kick-stand. The weird behavior
of the World Silder Rats far from his mind now that he was busy thinking about possible ways of making Turnicle
behave. He almost got in an accident half way to his destination due to being caught up in his own thoughts,
something that happened alot to the easily distracted male.

The main coven house of the Harlem-Bronx vampires was actually a former car manufactoring plant
in Harlem, abandoned to the perils of the less then perfect neighborhood and bought out by the former coven
leader back when the group had been a small family group. When the group grew to include local wanderers
and covenless vampires, and the first family's size grew, they begun to purchase other simallar buildings and
small homes across Harlem and Bronx-even a few in Brooklyn if Neo remembered correctly-but the plant remained
the main family's home.

Neo knew Vampires were very ordered and family type creatures, fond of any form of stability they
could latch onto in a world that changed without them. They didn't particularily care if this grasp for a solid hold
onto something meant living in a run down rat infested building, or holding grudges the size of a contenent.
On the same hand, they were also creatures that always searched for a way to stir up entertainment. This
meant that they tended to step on each others toes far to often-and the toes of other supernaturals aswell.

Parking his bike infront of the main doors and double checking his pocket for the letter he was
delievering, Neo assumed it was what was going on in this case. Harlem had tried to stir up trouble in Manhatten's
territories, trying to test boundries, and Manhatten had gotten possesive of what was theirs. It was possible
the fued was even over a part of New York not Legally claimed by either clan, but the bigger Coven was trying
to intimidate Harlem to gain it. Climbing off his bike for the second time in an hour, Neo wondered why, if
Vampires and Worldsilders suposidly had strict rules doled out by a supreme Coven in Europe, the races had
so many civil problems.

Shaking his head, the fae strolled up to the front door of the coven house, where three vampires sat
watching him warily. They probably had heard rumors about him-Neo's enforcer type job was earning him a nice
reputation amongst the mundane supernaturals such as Vampires and Were-creatures. Two of them were not so
subtly palming daggers strapped to their thighs-young impulsive fledglings who didn't know the words tact or
dimplomancy-while the third simply stood up and kept his eyes on Neo's face.

"Who are you and what are you here for?" The more mature vampire spoke in a voice that was a good
mix of authoritive, polite, and suspicous. Neo respected someone that was smart enough to be wary of strangers,
but not wary enough to be rude and provoke trouble.

"I'm a messanger, Velk sent me to speak with Turnicle." Neo spoke, purposeily not giving his name,
but instead the name of his Lord Fae-a name that would hold more sway and authority then his own ever could.

All three vampires got looks of shock and mild ire. Velk, being the Fae Lord of the entire tri-state area,
was well known amongst all local supernaturals-and not nessicarily in positive ways. He did dealings with everyone
of any standing, including the Rat Lord, Alpha Vampire, the two local demons, and several human organizations that
either worked for the paranomral, or were just influencal to garner Velk's attention. Turnicle wasn't on Velk's list of
business partners, which meant he had no problem with killing off any of the coven members that crossed him, and
gave Harlem-Bronx a good reason to be paranoid of his name.

"Turnicle is not here at the moment, but I will kindly-" The oldest vampire began, but Neo cut him off with a
sharp glare and a flash of his glow in the dark eyes.

"I'm empathic, asshole-do not even bother trying to lie to me." Neo growled out, hands sliding into his
pockets to run his finger tips lightly over a coil of wire inside them. "Now take me to the blood drinker, please."
He smiled darkly as he spoke. He was in the mood to fight with someone, and while the building was full of vampires
that would likely not be happy with him killing on their territory, Neo was far less bothered by pissed off blood
drinkers then he was of, say, a pack of Rats or Wolves.

The vampire snarled, but turned on his heel to head into the building. Neo stalked after him, long legs
allowing him to easily keep pace with the other male.

The inside of the building was far more pleasant looking then the outside, which had been left to look like
a run down factory. All of the equipment from its glory days had been removed, and walls had been put up to make
proper rooms. The floor was still cement and concrete, and it still had the smell of gas clinging to the place, but
the entire building had been refurnished to fit its new purpose. Neo was mildly impressed as he'd not been expecting
the place to be homely and well decorated, and while it wasn't as up to date and fancy as his own home ( a victorian
style two floor town house in a far better part of the city) Neo kind of liked it. It was like Velk's old place in Chicago.

The one thing that really confused the blond, however, was the amount of vampires lounging around the
halls as they passed, sitting on the floor, stair way, and congegating in the various rooms they passed. He knew
Harlem had a fair amount of members, but usually only the main family hung around the Coven house, while everyone
else stayed in their own places. Right now it looked like almost every vampire in the group was present in the
building. He was tempted to ask his guide what was going on, but decided it wasn't important. Really, he just
wanted to give Turnicle his letter, and get out of the place and back home. Law and Order had a new episode on at
three am, and he'd been waiting all week to watch the damn thing.

"Here we are." The vampire that had lead Neo about the building spat out, glaring at Neo as he knocked on
a redwood door-clearly put in we the factory was converted. A short second later, a voice called out for the
knocker to enter, and 'cranky vamp' opened the wooden portal for the blond.

"Thanks." Neo said back cheerfully, in attempt to farther rile "Cranky Vamp", then stepped inside the
room. A buff looking black vampire sat beind a birdseye maple desk, wearing a pinstrip suit and purple dress
shirt, while two females-also african american in looks-sat on a leather couch in the corner, also dressed in
bussiness type atire. All three vampires focused cat slit silver eyes on Neo upon his entrance, and one of the
two grils drummed her fingers on a sawed off shotgun on her lap. One glance at the weapon sent a searing tingle
down the Fae's spine, and he resisted the urge to cringe. Iron bullets were in the gun-not to unusual for a Vampire
Masters bodyguard to be in possesion of, but disconcerting all the same.

"Good evening Turnicle." Neo spoke slowly, eyes stuck on the gun as he stepped farther into the room,
keeping to the side farthest from the two women.

"It is not a good evening, Fae." Turnicle spoke in a surprisingly light voice for a big black man, eyes locked
on Neo in a manner that spoke volumes on who much of a 'not good evening' he was having.

It struck Neo, for a second, how he'd just recently had a simillar exchanged with Cecil and Monaco at
NightStalk. "Well, wouldn't want to bother you, then." Neo kept his voice cool and nuetral, walking up to the desk,
pulling out the manila envelope he had in his inside coat pocket as he moved. Neo had no desire to be in a
room with testy vampires, espeacially when one was carrying a weapon that was potentally lethal to his health.
"I've been sent to deliever a offical reprimand from your Alhpa coven, you are asked to respond in a span of three days,
or a less polite messange will be sent." Neo recited the words casually, dropping the letter on the desk before
Turnicle. "Good day." Turning around, Neo feld the room as fast as possible without actually appearing to flee. He was
ready to go home now, and not deal with confusing semi-mortals for awhile.

The blond wasted no time in mounting his Harley once out of the factory, flipping up the stand with his heel
while starting the engine. He shoved the two encounters of the night out of mind-crazy ass vampires and worldsilders
bent on being in foul moods wasn't his idea of pleasant thoughts-and headed out of Harlem and towards Queens. He
was sure he'd been in every part of the sprawling city by then, Queens to Upper West Side Manhattan to pick up the letter, Manhattan to Brooklyn to try and get a drink at Nightstalk, then back across Manhattan to Harlem and finally home to Queens once more. It wasn't unusual to go through the entire city in that manner on
a busy night, but usually it took longer then five hours and he had some drinks and entertainment along the way.
Hopefully his hosts back in Queens were up and in fairly pleasant moods-or someone was getting garroted before dawn.