Late Night Shift [Tracey]

[Zeke Krul]

It was the dead of night, it made his job all the more easier. There were few around to hear anything, if at all that had transpired. People typically went out at night in the city, seeking the thrill of the night life. The ones that had not and stayed at home...well, they'd most likely be too frightened to go anywhere near the snarls and monstrous sounds that emerged from the apartment that Zeke currently inhabited. It helped that this residence was in the heart of the entertainment district, the vibrant noise outside would certainly drown the screams that occurred from within.

Blood dripped slowly from Zeke's exposed fangs as he devoured the former being in front of him. Hunched over as he held a dismembered arm to himself, he mused to himself. It wasn't as bad as he had initially thought being a lycan would be. He was still able to ensure justice was served, and now he got a decent meal out of it. This being—no, it was a monster. This monster had escaped the club all of those nights ago. A cowardly one that had seen the chance to save its own skin, and ran. It was in cohorts with the ones in the club—Zeke knew that. Whatever its reasons for fleeing, they didn't matter anymore. They didn't matter when the head was torn off of the body, and they certainly didn't matter as it provided a meal for the lycan.

The meal complete, Zeke listed his head, smacking his lips noisily. Ears perking up, he heard the soft pangs of footsteps, and a new smell filling his nostrils. Human rang throughout his mind. Tossing the bloodied appendage to the side, his eyes strayed to the only opening to the apartment.

[Tracie "Tracer" LeAnn Pearse]

If there was a single thing that could have described her take on the world, a single word that was the sum of her cumulative knowledge of people both supernatural and human, it was this: distance. The further Tracer kept herself from them, the less harm could come to her, physical or otherwise. It was a philosophy on life her Ukrainian trainer had given her when he taught her how to hunt.

Tracer was a sniper, but she spent less time taking shots than planning and watching. She cataloged them. Vampires, mostly. Tonight, she was seeking distance. Height, specifically, and this building was perfect for that.

The sniper had her gear held in a guitar case, like something out of an Italian mob movie. She wasn't going to cut off some malcontent's fingers joint by joint or kill some FBI agent. If she made a shot, it wasn't going to be in the news. The vampires concealed their activities, and their dead. The bodies piled up, but they were also carefully hidden. Tonight, she wasn't going to make a shot. Tonight, she'd be watching through a scope.

Tracer didn't expect to be noticed, but she was dressed simply – a long, grey cloth jacket that hugged her body, wrist-length and hanging down to her knees. She wore dark denim jeans and black tennis shoes, and a white v-neck t-shirt beneath her jacket. She looked – normal. A woman wearing a conservative amount of makeup, with her hair braided and dangling down in front of her chest. She wanted to look normal. She wanted to be mistaken for a student, which was ultimately her goal. She was the right age to be in college, though she hadn't set foot inside a classroom since she'd disappeared from her high school so many years ago.

She walked along the front of the building, as one normally might, but turned the corner rather than going into an apartment. She intended to climb the fire escape and make it onto the roof of the apartment complex, from which she would have a good angle to watch the office building just down the street. The lights were on inside, automated, dim lights that generally stayed on so security cameras could do their jobs. The lower floors were empty, but a certain room in the upper floor was of interest of her... or, rather, the faces in that room. It was a company under vampire control... and any activity in it was of interest to the hunters.

[Zeke Krul]

Zeke's stance eased slightly as the footsteps grew dimmer. Whoever it was, they were moving away. Looking down at the mauled body, he grasped the leg firmly and gave it a strong tug. The ligaments ripped off easily enough, accompanied by blood splattering on the floor. He gave a mental shrug. It wasn't his house. Gnashing his teeth against the appendage, his nostrils flared again, catching a new scent. It wasn't too far. Dropping the leg, he stood upright, ears perking up to note if there were any others nearby. He thought he could hear the cocking of a weapon, but disregarded it. The scent was unmistakable however, there were more nearby. More chances to deliver Hell on those Vampires, not to mention the chance at a hot meal. This one was getting cold.

Bolting out of the room, he ran on all fours up the staircase. Bursting through the door, he noted a female. Taking the briefest of pauses, he assessed what was in front of him. Here was a female, a young one to be exact. Some sort of suitcase was near her, and in her hands, what appeared to be a sniper rifle. Zeke did not know exactly why she was armed. Given what he smelled and in the direction was facing, he had a vague idea. Most likely a hunter. Like the other. Growling, he responded in a low, gravely tone. “I do not know precisely why you are here—but do not get in my way.” Dashing forward, he gave a leap across the distance of the two buildings, crashing through the window, the last thing heard was an enraged roar of defiance.