Hourglass of the Hostile


The inky black parklands set four sharp borders of definition around the myriad twinkling lights of the square-mile set city. Further lights stretched outwards from this angled heart, north, south, east and west. Like parodies of an LED-lit circulatory system of oranges, whites, reds and yellows, the city lights of Adelaide stretched outwards to the hills and surrounding plains, terminating at the western waters edge.

As they had approached the city, they had become aware of a change in the flavour of the air. It had become thicker, stickier, more tangible, a sharp contrast to the dry dusty air of the wild northern outback they had flown away from.

Their stay at Thomas Jarvis’ station had been a time of healing and learning. To the three members of The Scourge of Adelaide now sitting inside the cabin of the Jet-powered Cessna, the past 4 days seemed surreal. A brief pause in an erratic whirl-winded heartbeat of paradigm shattering events.

With the Kine pilot partitioned through a thick black curtain, the three Kindred were left alone to toil over their undead thoughts. Gazing in silence at the twinkling expanse of humanity growing closer with each passing moment, the silence brewing a mixture of anxiety, anger, frustration and anticipation for what awaited them below.

A warrior, whose recent physical trials had taken him to new heights of surviving injury and insult to his non-living animated flesh. With speed and strength vastly exceeding human limits, and with the ability to move unseen by human eyes, the past months had taken Sebastion Doyle from an orphaned childe of solitude, to a terrifyingly adept urban hunter. An explosively efficient machine of wholesale violence and destruction.

The socialist, a genius of social science and amongst her immediate peer’s an individual who had walked the darkness for many more a decade. This strange Island of the British Colonies seemed to be having some kind of strange effect on her, as if the raw expansive wildness had somehow infused her being with its untamed energies.
Her recent brief stay in the ‘outback’ wilderness, seemed to have amplified her unnatural powers, somehow removing a perceptive barrier whilst at the same time tying her deeper to the warm sanguine lives she now relied upon for sustenance and survival.
As her eyes filled with the growing brightness of the electric-lit city below, she could feel the waves of raw human emotion being unknowingly broadcast. The sensation left her reeling in the tactile joy, her hands involuntarily curling around the palpable energy. Clutched in her hands, she could feel the tendrils of human energy, their defining social phenomena of human emotion strung and ready to respond to her every desire. Dr Freda Otta experiences a sudden involuntary smile in acknowledgement of a new level of puppet and master.

A prophet, witnessing more than simple lines of roads, houses and buildings spread out in the city-scape set before her. There were words and images reaching up to speak to her, flavoured with yellows, oranges and reds. It was the red ones that tasted the best of course, their voices so sweet. She had come to enjoy red things.
She could feel the chaos within her respond to the messages spread out in the city lights below. Messages coursed through her nervous system, soliciting an occasional twitch of finger-tip, eyelid or lip. Images play across her face, people she has known of course. Men, women, gender didn’t matter anymore, it was all about the red stuff and how much was on offer. A bouncer, a werewolf, a little girl in the street. They all had things to tell her, all vitally important. She could hear them all now. That is what was different. Whereas before her ears were deaf to the special things they had to say to her, she could hear them all now…all at once (she would have it no other way). Of course, she could also speak back to them now, make them see her point of view, and this made Raisa Matvey very, very happy!

A brief shuddering of the cabin, coupled with the high-pitched scream of turbine engines, heralded the return of Adelaide’s Scourge. As the sleek Cessna Citation V coasted onto the tarmac of Adelaide Airport the statuesque inhabitants of the plushly detailed cabin slowly begin to animate. Gazes flitting from face to face, their features all sharing one thing in common…a grin of savoured territorial return.



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