C9 Initial Notifications

Santa Monica County ... Boardroom at Von Barski General Hospital...

A special late-night meeting of several members of the area's vampire consulate ... headed by Count Von Barski ... has been convened to discuss what a majority of the elders of the vampire community deem to be a pressing matter; that is the necessity for a greater supply of human blood. This has been an ongoing issue that the consulate, in particular Count Herschel Von Barski ... has been addressing and trying to come up with a feasible solution for the past few years, but has recently been heatedly debated and being forced to be pushed to the forefront of the consulate's agenda by several elders ... all having their origins from some of the oldest and most noble vampire families ... who are becoming more and more impatient every day for results.

Every vampire currently sitting in the boardroom is roughly between four hundred to five hundred years old, so forget about your "Twilight"-looking vampires; they look more like those you'd find attending an ancient Greek or Roman senate consul session. Count Von Barski ... who's 517 years-old to be exact ... is seated in his usual wing chair at the head of the table, conveying a stalwart expression etched upon his countenance as he steadfastly tells them...

"I'm sorry...but that simply can't be done. Any other ideas or suggestions?"

Immediately, an incoherent muttering of discontentment is exchanged among the elders. Shortly, a highly perturbed Baron Vladmir Tarvosky lividly contests Count Von Barski's quick decision to dismiss their request ... which to him seemed like he didn't even give even a second worth's of consideration to ... and demands an explanation...

"What do you mean it can't be done; are you, or are you not the director of this hospital ... as well as the co-director of four other hospitals; two of which have trauma centers ... allocating them priority and easier access to blood supply ... all of which you sit on the board of? Not to mention the half dozen, or so, blood banks your clan oversees. So, tell me, Herschel; why is it you can't share the wealth among your old friends?"

Maintaining his stalwart visage, Count Von Barski calmly responds...

"It's true that my clan and I run those institutions; but it's also true that those institutions are run like most other publicly funded and traded businesses ... therefore, not all the wealth there is ours to share."

Still not satisfied with the Count's reply, Baron Tarvosky curtly snaps...

"What does that have to do with the issue at hand here ... are you going to give us the blood, or not?!"

"As I said before, it can't be done. But if you insist on my answer being worded that way ... then my answer is not."

Instead of the previous incoherent muttering, a seething grumbling among the elders now permeates the boardroom ... and once again the agitated Baron begins to angrily speak up...

"Herschel ... how can you..."

But is quickly cut off by the seemingly always composed Count Von Barski, once again speaking in a calm manner...

"Vladmir ... my dear old friend ... please try to understand my position. I can always come up with some sort of an excuse to explain or justify a misappropriation of funds ... in the business world these types of incidents are expected, from time to time. But what I can neither explain nor justify would be a misappropriation of blood."

Another disgruntled elder snidely interjects...

"Oh, but you don't seem to have a problem justifying using that blood in this so-called research of yours."

Without any change to his visage, nor inflection in his tone, the Count replies...

"As you said, it's research ... medical research to be more precise. Research that will be beneficial to all of us in the vampire community and solve this dilemma of ours once we successfully crack all of the genetic codes and be able to mass produce a suitable synthetic blood for consumption. So far, the lab results are promising."

And another elder scoffs, "'Synthetic blood'; humph ... it sounds like it would be as satisfying as non-alcoholic beer."

There's another brief moment of grumbling; then Baron Tarvosky once again speaks up...

"Alright, Herschel ... putting aside for now whether or not this 'synthetic blood' of yours turns out to be an effective solution, or not; what are we supposed to do until you achieve the results you're looking for? I'm curious; I mean, you're in the same boat as the rest of us here ...unlike the younger generation of vampires; we require a constant supply of blood to sustain ourselves. What are you doing to keep up with your consumption needs?"

The scoffing elder nastily insinuates, "He's probably pilfering bags of blood that he's supposedly using for research to feed himself and his family."

Though deep down the Count would like nothing more than to rip the head off of this brazenly insolent fellow consulate member; he maintains his composure and informs them...

"I'm not going to lie; it takes some time to adjust and acquire a taste for it ... but I find that once you become accustomed to it, bovine blood is quite a suitable replacement for consumption. It's almost as sustainable as human blood."

There's a brief moment of silence as the elders exchange dubious glances, strongly doubting the validity of the Count's claim; when, all of a sudden, Count Von Barski's personal assistant comes rushing into the boardroom, and whispers something in the Count's ear as he hands him his cell.

A seriously grave expression instantly overtakes the Count's countenance as he looks up at his assistant, who immediately responds with a simple nod.

"Excuse me for a moment, everyone ... my apologies; but I have to take this call."

Count Von Barski rushes out of the boardroom, with his personal assistant in close tow behind him. The elders are left there exchanging quizzical looks at one another.

A few minutes later...

The Count returns to the Boardroom, displaying an even graver expression deeply ingrained into his countenance. He sits in his wing chair, and remains momentarily silent while appearing to be in deep thought; but then suddenly announces...

"I'm officially ending our last meeting, and immediately calling to order a new meeting ... one which far exceeds the urgency of the previous topic ... and a matter which needs our immediate attention."

Again, the Count becomes silent. Baron Tarvosky inquires...

"What is it, Herschel? What's happened?"

There's a brief pause before Count Von Barski informs them...

"I've just received word that a vampire from a neighboring clan had just been attacked, and grievously injured during it."

A sudden incessant chattering abounds the table, but quickly subsides when one of the elders exclaims in total disbelief...

"Impossible ... even if any human had the misfortune to be stupid enough to try to attack a vampire, there's no way they would be able to injure them. I seriously doubt they'd even manage to get a single hit in."

Another elder interjects, "Unless it was another vampire..." then he briefly pauses before hesitantly bringing up, "or ... a werewolf?"

All eyes sharply fall upon Count Von Barski; who solemnly nods.

************

An hour later ... over in Malibu County, at the Hollister's palatial estate...

The tranquility of their master bedroom is suddenly disrupted, as the serene silence which had abound the room is abruptly broken by the reverberating ringing of the Alpha's cellphone lying on the nightstand beside their bed. Being instantly awoken from a sound sleep, the Alpha groggily reaches out and clumsily feels about for his phone ... and after finally coming across it, slowly brings it up to his ear and lethargically mumbles...

"Yes ... who dares to call me so early in the morning? ... What is it? This had better be important."

As the party on the other end speaks, the Alpha soon finds himself fully awake; quickly shooting upright in bed as he listens in stunned disbelief. His sudden jumping up fully awakened his wife, who had also been jostled out of her slumber by the ringing of the cellphone but was starting to fall back asleep. She rolls over and looks up at her husband, and instantly notices the deeply troubled expression on his face. She sits upright beside him; and when the call ends...

"Sebastian, what's the matter ... by the look on your face I can tell that something's seriously wrong. Who was it ... what did they say?"

"It was one of our pack members that's in the LAPD ... he said that a couple of hours ago, it was discovered that a woman was savagely killed in an abandoned building over in one of the 'Red Light Districts'. Her body was completely torn to pieces; as if she had been attacked by some sort of large wild animal."

He pauses briefly before hesitantly telling her...

"From what he saw at the crime scene ... it looked like she might have been killed by a werewolf."

The Luna gasps ... and the Alpha's cellphone suddenly rings.

"Yes; hello? ... Speaking. ... Count Von Barski? What can I do for you?"

The Alpha's face rapidly turns pale as he remains totally silent while listening. And after the Count says his piece, the Alpha responds...

"I understand ... yes; I completely agree. Trust me, Count Von Barski; I will be looking into this matter immediately. We definitely need to get to the bottom of this. And I assure you that should the culprit be identified as being a werewolf, they will be swiftly and duly punished for their actions; you have my word on that. All I ask is that, for the time being, can you please convince those on your consulate to please be a little patient, and not react too rashly. Please allow me a little time to find out what exactly happened, and then rectify this situation in a way that will satisfy both parties; while, of course, making sure to make all the appropriate reparations."

There's another momentary lull of silence as the Alpha listens to the Count's reply. Shortly...

"Thank you for your understanding and benevolent graciousness, Count Von Barski. As I said, I will personally be looking into this. And once I discover what happened … and if a werewolf was responsible for this … I will see that it's handled as expediently as possible. I promise. ... Yes, you as well. Thank you. Goodbye."

As soon as the call ends, the Alpha remains solemnly silent ... remaining motionless; almost to the point of being seemingly stone-petrified ... once again with that deeply troubled expression deeply etched upon his countenance. The Luna concernedly looks upon the statue-like Alpha for a few moments; but then finally asks...

"What was that all about? What did Count Von Barski say to you?"

The Alpha gets up out of bed and starts slowly pacing about the room; keeping his hands cupped behind his lower back. Shortly, he stops and looks at the Luna...

"He said that their consulate is in a bit of an uproar right now. According to Count Von Barski, a vampire from a neighboring clan was attacked ... and even though that vampire swears that it wasn't ... the wounds on his back appear to have been inflicted by a werewolf."

Again, the Luna gasps; then somberly shakes her head in disbelief...

"What in the world is going on ... how could this be?"

She beseechingly looks into her husband's eyes ... earnestly wishing that he would tell her that he's playing some kind of sick cruel trick on her now; that this wasn't really happening, or that this was all some huge misunderstanding or mistake...

"Sebastian; tell me ... a werewolf really isn't responsible for all this; is there?"

"I honestly don't know, Sondra; I surely hope not. But regardless of whether it is or isn't, I need to get to the bottom of this, as soon as possible."

He becomes momentarily silent as his eyebrows furrow, and that deeply troubled expression on his face hardens...

"As if it isn't enough that these sons-of-a-bitches, rogue mongrels are acting up and giving us shit ... the last thing we need now is to be thrown into a war with the vampires, on top of that."