Catulle
Hero
Frederick Douglas Memorial Cemetery, Staten Island
Wednesday 11th December, 2002
Partway between sleet and snow, the gritty flakes continued to fall. The wet-slick scent stirred and blended with the corpseflesh aroma, blood and turned earth to create an unforgetteble miasma.
Max could lift the frail body easily, malnourishment, decay and a lightness of build contributed to the simplicity of his task. His hand sank into the soft flesh, pulpy and wet to the touch, when he lifted the thing. He felt something fluid running down his arm.
As Nikolai took stock of the scene, it became clear that more than one perpetrator had been at work, here. Imprints of small hands and bare feet were still visible in some places; he would have estimated as many as half a dozen... people had been here, busily churning the earth and posessed of a ferocious strength to scar the earth so. To judge by the bite-marks in the rotten flesh of the recently exhumed cadavers, he could only arrive at the conclusion that those responsible for the horror were children. The unsettling image of the child vampire at the party mere weeks ago flitted through the Tremere's mind. The paving slabs likely covered a fresher corpse, judging by the ammount of blood that had seeped from underneath it. By the size, there was either a shallow grave underneath it, or the pile lay atop a small body indeed.
As much as the cairn was awash in gore, the hanging man was suspiciously free of the dark stains, almost obsessively clean, in fact. It took Nikolai until he was up the tree, locked into an embrace of sorts with the hanging man as he strained to reach the placard chained above, to realise why this was. The branch twisted through the heart, yet there was little blood about the wound; certainly not the deluge he would have assumed a logical consequence of this kind of massive trauma. The dead man's posture was a too rigid as well - hardly the expected relaxation after death, even including the chance of rigor mortis. The posture was wrong, as if he were paralysed; frozen stiff. In the moment, it made sense.
The victim on the tree had been Kindred.
(OOC - Nikolai per/investigation diff5 - 8,2,5,10,5,7 = 5 successes)
Wednesday 11th December, 2002
Partway between sleet and snow, the gritty flakes continued to fall. The wet-slick scent stirred and blended with the corpseflesh aroma, blood and turned earth to create an unforgetteble miasma.
Max could lift the frail body easily, malnourishment, decay and a lightness of build contributed to the simplicity of his task. His hand sank into the soft flesh, pulpy and wet to the touch, when he lifted the thing. He felt something fluid running down his arm.
As Nikolai took stock of the scene, it became clear that more than one perpetrator had been at work, here. Imprints of small hands and bare feet were still visible in some places; he would have estimated as many as half a dozen... people had been here, busily churning the earth and posessed of a ferocious strength to scar the earth so. To judge by the bite-marks in the rotten flesh of the recently exhumed cadavers, he could only arrive at the conclusion that those responsible for the horror were children. The unsettling image of the child vampire at the party mere weeks ago flitted through the Tremere's mind. The paving slabs likely covered a fresher corpse, judging by the ammount of blood that had seeped from underneath it. By the size, there was either a shallow grave underneath it, or the pile lay atop a small body indeed.
As much as the cairn was awash in gore, the hanging man was suspiciously free of the dark stains, almost obsessively clean, in fact. It took Nikolai until he was up the tree, locked into an embrace of sorts with the hanging man as he strained to reach the placard chained above, to realise why this was. The branch twisted through the heart, yet there was little blood about the wound; certainly not the deluge he would have assumed a logical consequence of this kind of massive trauma. The dead man's posture was a too rigid as well - hardly the expected relaxation after death, even including the chance of rigor mortis. The posture was wrong, as if he were paralysed; frozen stiff. In the moment, it made sense.
The victim on the tree had been Kindred.
(OOC - Nikolai per/investigation diff5 - 8,2,5,10,5,7 = 5 successes)
Last edited:
