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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Catulle" data-source="post: 808868" data-attributes="member: 9942">Frederick Douglas Memorial Cemetery, Staten IslandWednesday 11th December, 2002Gabriel's jump down left him quite alone on the other side of the high wall. Of the scourge, there was no sign. The memorial park, which had begun its life as a cheap place to fill with paupers' graves seemed, if anything, to have become more neglected over the years and he smell of wet earth pervaded the Tremere's first impressions. Foliage, grown thick and wild, overgrew the moss-ridden gravel paths. Stands of trees stood crooked, unkempt and ragged, casting twisted shadows. From the midst of it all, bleak markers jutted up from the earth as bones from a carcass picked dry, granite and concrete testaments to those that had gone to rot in the earth beneath.The place had never been landscaped, just left to grow at the heart of Staten Island, a malignant, living-dead thing in its own right. The gates were visible even at this distance, picked out by the halo of lights from the kine's emergency vehicles. Another, lesser, light source shone faint and yellow from a shallow, tree shrouded valley perhaps equidistant from both the entrance and the coterie's point of entry. All was silent save for the scrabble of the others' boots on the wall behind him.</blockquote>