The eyes of a monster (Hunter)

Like moving at highspeed, falling down to the ground, Hunter felt like being awaken by this sensation. When he opened his eyes was inmediately aware of some kind of cloth covering his face, then he realized it covered all his body. It was pitch dark and no sound could be hear, not even his own heart beat or breathing.

As he tried to move the cotton clothes covering his body easily move aside and he was able to touch a stone slate over him, also around in a square stone box that stench to aromatic oils and powerful perfurmes that filled his nostrils at all times. Desperately looking for a way out he found a metal string with an loop on its end made of stiffer metal. Pulling such device made a bell toll inside the grave and another far from Hunter's hearing outside.

Minutes later he hear people working and moving dirt off.

The stone lid was still too heavy for Doyle to lift but with the help of a crane at the other side the men outside managed to remove it, allowing Hunter to see the electrical nights of the interior of a building, probably a maunsoleum of sorts given the strange religious relieves at the ceiling.

At that second an splinter nailed in his mind, the time they needed to bury him in the first place, added to the time he was trapped six feet under and nearly half an hour he was trapped without air inside the sarcophage. After all that time, Doyle felt no need to breath but as he realized that fact, the sensation of asphixia was growing with anxiety inside of him.

When suddenly the crane released him and the men help him out. Two guys arabs by the looks of their faces and dressed in a traditional white robe with a takiya over their heads.

The first thing he noticed was the obstacle for speach those fangs represented, they were quite real and he wasn't definetely used to speaking with them in front of his tongue. So his voice sounded strange to him.

Also, Doyle was overwhelmed by the sensorial input around him. Even the badly illuminated stance seemed too bright for him to handle. He felt confused and even scared due to the strange events unfolding in front of him.

The first slave said to Doyle.
"Master Haquim is waiting for you master Doyle but first we must clean your body and give you proper clothing."

The man seemed submissive and polite to an extreme still not well educated and his accent was surely arab.

”I can clean myself, thank you very much.”

The man bowed like begging for mercy, with his arms extended and his eyes meeting the ground.

”Just show me the bathroom and I’ll take care of it. You can leave the proper clothes for me there, yeah?”

...and said with distress.
"Master please! Those are Master Haquim's orders. We must obey, please let us clean you!" the man ended on his knees terrified of the consequences.

The other man said with a little more self assured tone in his voice.
"Master you're unclean. We will clean your immortal spirit from the living leftovers and the remainings of the tomb. Please let us complete the ritual or Master Haquim will punish us and reject you."

The men took Hunter to a little hut inside of the large mausoleum, the little room had a rectangular pit in the middle filled with water and next to it a rack with strange bottles, by their smell Doyle could figure out most of them were oils, with exotic fragances and strange ingredients, even before the slaves actually opened any bottles.

This strange sensorial input was ackward, Hunter was receiving all kinds of sensations and information from the world around him, forcing him to noticed things he had never think about, like the irregularities on the vases, the smell of water, the movement of dust in the air. He felt awed by the overwhealming amount of all.

He was wearing a white linen clothing, just pants and shirt, nothing else.

The men started to make some preparations, pouring oils on empty vases and grabbing scourer pads made of roots and weeds. Once everything was set, one took a sharp knife and stood in front of Hunter reciting some verses in arab, placing the knife over his forehead and then proceeding to cut his clothes off.

Hunter noticed his body had changed, he was pale with a piece of paper, his scars, birthmarks and other small features of his body were vanished. His beard had been shaped, his hair done, nails in both hands and feet were all in perfect fashion. Even most of his body hair was already removed.

Then they helped Hunter inside the pit and both started to chant a ritual, each with a scourer to cleanse Doyle's body in the most obvious parts of his body, like the legs, arms, chest and back. Then they started to bath Ian, giving him one of the scourers for him to clean the most sensitives parts of his body. After the bathing was done, Hunter did feel great, it was relaxing and refreshing.

The men helped him out of the tub and dryed his body with a cotton towel, then dressing him with a cotton pants and shirt, with a colour so pure it seemed to shine with its own light. They ended cleaning his feet and giving him a pair of leather sandals with ties up his ancles.

After the hole process was done the men stopped the chanting and the more secure said.
"You're ready master. We will call Master Haquim, feel free to wander around while he chooses when to come."

”Thank you. What are your names? And please, Hunter or Doyle, I’m not the master of anyone.”

The less secured man said bowing again, asking for forgiveness.
"We're sorry master but you're a kindred of Haquim now, your immortal blood gives us eternal life and we humblely have dedicated our lives to serve Clan Assamite."

The other said.
"Master Doyle, you have just born, a newly embraced vampire. Don't be so eager to change traditions with thousands of years old. We call you as we are suppoused to, Master Haquim will teach you why is so."

”I suppose he will. Okay then, thank you. Please, go call him.”

Both men bowed and before the self secured man left he said.
"My name is Ali, my brother is called Darius. Now forgive us master." then he left as well.

The mausoleum was very spacious, a big underground square of stone with thick walls. The ceiling was slightly tilted in four folds, like a very low pyramid with many religious images carved on it. Inside were four huts, simetrically distributed around the central temple were he was digout an hour ago, a place surrounded by squared base pillars and no ceiling, inside was Hunter's tomb with a steel wire attached to a bell over some sort of shrine dedicated to Anubis, an egyptian god that Doyle had seen in some of Maggy's books.

All walls seemed quite worn, over them were some paintings also weathered by years passed. Each wall had four doors, except for one that had only one big closed gate. All doors were locked, even the servants had to pull a key to open the one leading them out.

The place had a second floor, with many persian door thresholds covered with white linen curtains blocking the view.

After a few more minutes Haquim entered by the same doors the servants had used to leave the mausoleum. He was wearing an strange outfit, a blood red silk baggy pants with a black silk shirt, over it a purple wine jacket and on top of his head a black turban. Covering his feet were strange black pointy sleepers. When he got close enough he said in a polite tone of voice.
"salaam alaikum... it means 'Peace be unto you'. It's our formal way to salute with respect and at the same time wish well to the other.

It is answered Wa-Alaikum-Salaam, that means 'And unto you peace' its a reciprocal response that assures that both parts come in peace, to dialogue in a civilized way."

He made a pause and said sincerely with an entonation that made his words very ritualistic.
"Salaam Alaikum"

Haquim nods and asks Hunter to go with him to one of the close rooms. He opened the lock with a key, inside was a sort of sparring room with many weapons around a central square. However, he went to a wide couch next to the square a seem not with the intention of fight Hunter, just sit calmly.

He said with heavy arab accent.
"I can imagine the questions running through your mind, I'll try to answer them all but many can't be answer with words, many requiere action and others complex experience to harness. At my Age, almost one hundred and sixty years old, I still have questions to which I'm still looking for answers.

To get the obvious out of the way: you're a vampire, an undead creature that won't age anymore. You'll keep that perfected body for as long as you exist. The all mighty Allah created us for a reason, we're cast out of mortality and therefore have an unique perspective on human kind, to judge and punish to those breaking the balance.

Your body isn't what it used to be, your organs don't work, you don't need to breath or eat anymore. From now on your only substain will be blood, human or animal but blood nevertheless.".

”Yeah, I have a lot of questions but I don’t even know where to start. You tell me I’m a vampire and so are you, a 160 years old one at that, I have fangs, no heartbeat and I spent I don’t know how long buried in a stone coffin and I still can’t really believe it. After everything I try to just accept the strange but it’s fucking hard.”

He nods and simply says 'fair enough'

”Maybe it’s not what you want me to ask but I have to start somewhere. What’s the date? How long was I held prisoner by those fucks! The so-called doctors. What the hell were they doing? They looked like scientist but you called them witches?”

Haquim takes a slow paced tone when explaining this in a more constructive and productive way by saying.
"You were down enough to be completely dead if you were still a mortal Doyle. Today is October 1st of the year 1999." That's nine days since the chemical incident at Brooklyn harbors.

"Those witches violate the natural order with their heretical practices." he made alot of emphasys in that line.

"Reality is always been interpreted by humans, mortals or not, in a way that would allow them to control it. Religion, Magic and Science all have been attempts to harness control over Allah's Creation, blessed by thy name.

Some practice this under the sacred mission of servitude to the all mighty, others for their own benefit. Many even go against Al Mubdi's fruits, challenging the rules of creation for their own reasons and believes.

We Assamites are the Judges of the Kindreds and over mankind. We protect the natural order by carrying on the sentence of death against the transgressors. You're now one of us and you shall be trained to be up to the task."

”And now you have stopped them, permanently?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy those bastards are dead and they were fucking monsters but are all? You say some serve God, are those the only ones not a target?

I don’t mean to be disrespectful but I need to know what morality, laws and justice it is I’m upholding, since I’m guess the human laws aren’t something to bother with anymore.”

Haquim was calmed and he didn't even flinched at Hunter's words.
"The more hideous attrocities against the natural order have been carried in the name of one God or the other."

His words were a sentence, convicted and execute with merciless precision against Hunter's ideas. Doyle was shocked by the Assamite word's weight. Indeed massacres and genocide were modern words to describe the old time Jyhads or Holy wars, depending on what side you were.

He remembered well Maggy's lessons about the subject, how many art pieces and literature was destroyed by fanatism and ignorance in the name of God. Haquim showed no respect for those practices, even in the name of God shall be called unholy, devious and should be punished even harshlier due to it's blasfemy.

It was impressive how much the Assamite could say with just one phrase but it was not just a phrase, he spoke directly into Hunter's Heart and Soul.

”And now you have stopped them, permanently?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy those bastards are dead and they were fucking monsters but are all?

Haquim smiled scolding Hunter's naivity and said with desdain for his over simplification.
"The infidels are not easily detoured from their path of blasfemy Childe. We just sent a message to them, a message to all of them: such behavior shall be punished mercilessly."

Doyle chocked and was unable to say...


Haquim previous answer had carved an idea on his mind. Using the name of god to commit atrocities is as bad or even worst than doing it in the service of the devil. Still one question in his mind prevailed: what rules have this morality of the Assamite Clan.

”So you’re saying we’re the judges, jury and executioners of everyone that violates the natural order?

Haquim nods.

Isn’t the ’natural order’ rather subjective?

Haquim nods but says right away.
"What does a Judge in the mortal's society do? Learn the Rules of the system and interprete thee laws according to a Tradition.

Is the Law equally understood by the thief, the jury and the judge? Isn't concensus between their subjective decision the method to carry on a fair sentence according to the Law and the Tradition?

We're the prosecutors, the judges and executioners, we as a Clan but each of us carries just one sacred mission to which we dedicate our existence devotiously. Only Allah, the allmighty can be all at the same time, we thy most dedicate servants are just tools in thy divine plan."

Again Hunter was crushed by the imponent verb of his Sire, there were rules, laws to follow, Laws that had been followed by hundreds of years to conform a Tradition, with its own legal system, in which Haquim had a role to fulfill just a Hunter did in his life, just a link in the chain.

His mind flew away into Crimson Halls of Justice where kindreds were judge by their crimes, he wondered how did the Vampire's constitution or even their laws were written. Was inocense the premise? did they had mystical arts to detect infractions to the 'natural order' were just a few questions floating in his head.

You seem like a religious, muslim man, where I’m a lapsed catholic at best, my view of order might differ from yours, especially considering I’m also a cop...

Doyle chocked overwhelm by the Vizier's words and explaination, fully understanding that his next question was already answered, he was unable to say...

Haquim said calmy and understandful.
"I'm a man of Faith before a religious man. Faith is born from the Only source of everything under the heavens, while each religion is just a form.

You're not mistaken to call me a Muslim but I'm also a Sufi a philosopher that doesn't look for Truth outside in the Heaven or the Earth but in the Heart of every creature in thy divine creation.

If you also look for thy Truth, it won't matter the path you take because we will end in the same place."

Haquim nods and patiently said.
"The first kindred of our Clan, the Father of all other Assamites had the same doubt.

Unlike us he wasn't created, he just became a vampire, as an act of God. So he went through Persia and Egypt, he went to the Sahara heading to the dark lands of the Yoruba, looking for an answer.

It was there, in the middle of the desert where an Angel revealed to him. His message gave meaning to our existence as a vampires. He and all his kindred were meant to be the Judges of the Undead.

Haquim was his name, the same name I took after my Embrace. His history, his teachings still remain in the Alamuth, a sacred mountain that lays in the center of the Sahara desert. Thousands of books and ancient tomes still exist there to teach the Assamite the tools and knowledge they need to achieve their sacred mission."

He made a pause and with some grief he continued.
"Sadly we're struggling to get the Clan back to its former glory...

We're the judges by divine right but treacherous kindreds dethrone us and casts us out of that sacred position. That's, per haps, an story for another time but what its important is that in modern nights we no long have the recognition from other clans, neither their respect we used to have a Judges.

Even so, even if most of the kindreds don't even remember who we are, our mission prevails. We are the judges of mankind and we must look up for that sacred task."

”And what about the whole ’being a vampire’-thing? What I know is limited to what I remember from that old Bela Lugosi-movie and the newer Dracula-one with Gary Oldman.”

Haquim smiles and replies.
"Mortals have tried to represent us in their movies during this century, fruit of our interaction with them, breaches in what the Camarilla calls 'The Masquerade' that fortunally are consider fiction but underneath are many layers of truth.

We do feed from blood biting our preys, we're immortals and we do have powers beyond human comprehension...

What the movies don't explain is the sacrifice of being cast out of society, to leave back our families and friends, the need to prey on the living in order to survive. We are chosen by God to be martyrs in thy name of Allah, to fulfill our sacred mission.

Each vampiric clan has it's own mission although many seemed they have forgoten it but we have not, we remember what's our duty and each of us is ready to fulfill it, just as you'll be after your training."

”So, we’re the Assamite clan and our duty is to police the other vampires; to observe, judge and if necessary punish them. But they don’t recognize our authority. That must be a fucking problem?

Especially since they have this… Camarilla? A government or something?”

Haquim noded and patiently answering each of Hunter's questions.
"We have worked around it for centuries, serving as assasins for the Camarilla and the Sabbat alike. Judging if the crime of the target fits the punishment that we're ask to deliver and executing if the principles of the Clan allows it. Many in these governmens, however, think we're mercenaries.

Many times we have also went to deliver the ultimate punishment for the most notable transgressors of the divine law, around the world. What we struggle with is to deliver a divine punishment different to death, since the corruption in the world has spread too much for us to cover lesser offenders and focus only on those that are specially sinful.

That's about to change. Currently I've been designated by our Clan to work with the Camarilla Prince, Michael Bright and he named me Scorge of New York. That means that I'm entitled to watch over kindred's behavior in the state to carry an executive punishment if it's required.

It's a provisionary state, since our great Clan is making the arrangement to be officially included in the Camarilla and restablish the rights we have been exerting, regardless of other kindred's opinion on the matter. We have compromised to work under the Prince of New York as a prove of good will."

”And there are other clans? With duties, sacred tasks, that they no longer uphold? Who are they, what were their duties and how are they relevant today?”

He made a pause to hear Hunter's next question and then continued with his heavy arab accent.
"There are many other clans, some have sacred missions others do not. Each will be properly introduced and explained in time. For the moment just know that seven clans are sworn to the Camarilla: Clan Brujah of the Passionate, Clan Gangrel of the Beasts, Clan Malkavian of the Seers, Clan Toreador of the Roses, Clan Tremere of the Heretics y Clan Ventrue of the Kings."

Haquim nods and stands up.

He said casually.
"First I want you to learn how your vampiric body works."

Haquim goes to the center of the training room and asked Hunter to do the same, there he did all kind of tests, choking him to realize he did not breath anymore, powerful punches and kicks didn't even bruised his body but for the grand finale Haquim took a pistol and aim to the terrified Hunter making a point blank shot to the chest with nothing but a bruise and the slightless feeling of pain.

Doyle looking astonished to the point where the bullet ricochetted against his chest, an small red dot with a small impact area around it.

Haquim said.
"Focus on the wound feel its pain, be aware of it. You're damaged."

Doyle obeyed and instantly the wound disapaired.