Fall of the House of Anderson
An Alain & Foxpierre Adventure
The door opened, a somewhat rare occurrence for the fallen patriarch of the Anderson clan, usually it was someone coming in to give him his meager food, or to deal with whatever movements he had to take during his internment. They didn't talk, he himself couldn't as the gag in his mouth had remained keeping him from calling out to anyone who might be near. Though escape was unlikely given a nature of the enemy. But this time at the door entered a man, familiar, the man who had so often harassed Pratik at those parties and events. Roger didn't remember his name, but he was followed by a fox....heaven only knew. Yes Heaven.....if the father was right then God had long since forsaken him to these monsters.
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Alain smiled as he entered, allowing Foxpierre to follow him inside before closing the door. "Mr. Anderson, a pleasure. I would make a doctor joke but given the context of my visit it seems in poor taste." The Frenchman pulled up a chair, facing it backwards and taking a seat facing the man "And if there is one thing a Frenchman cannot forgive, it is poor taste." Alain watched as the gagged old man just stared at him "Ah yes, a man of few words. You did some truly foul things and you hurt someone deeply close to me." Alain pulled out a picture of Charlie as Benjamin Kind. "Know him? Yes......your friends in the Camarilla murdered him." He leaned forward giving the man a death glare "I should rip you to pieces for what you did, I should make you suffer. And dear boy I am more than two centuries old. I've had time to come up with a lot of ideas."
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Ah yes the arrogance of a victor, would that the tables been turned his mouth would be not filled with poison but flame. He certainly did not wish to be tortured but these devil spawn were not open to mercy, not open to begging. He had worked hard to cleanse the city of these so called Anarchs. He had sacrificed so much, given that which he held dear, and it had all been ruined by this rabble. He owed them nothing. If this Frenchman was going to torture him he'd give him no pleasure. He was not sorry, he did what he did because it was righteous.
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Alain stood and paced a little, Foxpierre in the corner, licking his paws clean. "But! I know that is not what he would want of me.....to give in to the beast so. To be like you, consumed in my pain and anger." Alain walked closer, leaning in towards the man's face studying him "Tell me how does a father do what you have done? To be so atrocious that the last of his kin seeks not to see him?" Alain turned away "What I would not of given to have my father say my name one last time, or to here my mother's voice usher me to sleep. And you.......willfully gave it all away." He sighed the weight of memories older than the man before him coming to bear on his mind. "Shameful." The Frenchman paused leaving the room with only silence save the sound of the Fox in the corner scratching at his fur. "Monsieur, the Anarchs of the free state have sentenced you to death. While I could make it painful and messy, I value life and the dignity of it to much for such things." He reached into his coat and pulled from it pistol. "Horrid as the Prussians are they can at times die with dignity."
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A gun? Ah this beast wouldn't do the dirty work himself.....but at the same time he would not see them take him on their own terms. Though perhaps this was just another trick, he would act the thankful victim and reach down only to hear the dry click and the laughter of his captors. A taunt before whatever madness awaited him, a last insult.
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Alain popped his claws and walked behind the prisoner, his eyes growing wider in anticipation of what the kindred planned to do. "Do not try anything, I am over two centuries old and more than capable of dealing with an old man with a gun." The ropes binding him hit the floor with a thud. Alain proceeded to pull the gag loose with the tip of a claw, okay he was going to amuse himself a little what could it hurt. Finally he placed the pistol on his lap "Its your show dear boy. Though I would stand in your place."
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His jaw ached, his arms sore where the ropes had bound him, and his legs had not stood in a time. He picked up the gun, thoughts of a daring escape that would likely only end in the flaying of himself at the hands of this clawed monstrosity. Roger went to stand though his legs started to give way and he found himself caught by the Frenchman. He jerked himself back, almost toppling over again "Don't.....touch me..." He let out low and raspy, a voice short on use of late.
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Alain backed up "Have it your way. I'll give you a moment with your thoughts."
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The Frenchman and his....pet started to walk out. He could fire, one last defiance but to what end....
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Then as the Frenchman leaned against the door outside, a single shot went off, and the fall of the House of Anderson was done.