I had the unmistakable feeling that whatever was to happen would happen that night. I was right, but was very wrong about what the final outcome would be. I started off the evening in a usual way: Death, destruction, fear. The transference of evil from my victims to myself, creating a shield from their flesh to sustain injury for me. I set off to finish the final orders I had received from my Prince...
Social life at the haven of the damned was even less active than usual, but I stayed among it anyway, trying to fit in with the sad undead that still thought they were human. Some interesting but unimportant events involving car accidents and vampiric flesh occurred before my mark showed up. I immediately moved to what was to be done, questioning before I damned the repentant Nazi. John Doe was what he went by, but he was wearing the third face I'd seen him in. He had no news that I didn't already know, but pretended to be interested anyway. It was time for him to die.
As we were on our way to the basement where he would meet his final end, the Demon arrived. What timing this destroyer of lives had. I stopped caring about him a while ago, it was proven that I could do nothing to stop him. I would have continued on my way, but my mark was overly concerned with the Demon and had to stay to fight him. He removed the Demon's head in a boring, pointless battle, thus freeing him to enter some other vessel. At the point of its death, the Demon seemed to release some deadly fog that destroyed all life that was left in Denver, this is how the city met its end, but my end had not yet happened.
I set out to finish what the Prince had ordered, and left to kill John Doe. Little did I realize that he had his own protector, pasta sauce is what Layla had called him. He stopped me from killing my mark so we could better dispose of the Demon, who had taken up residence in some other object. I set out to find the Demon, and while I was searching it attacked. The lights went out for a moment, and pasta sauce had a sizable chunk of wood in his chest. I knew the Demon was near, so I activated my spirit sight in search of its soul and saw two auras around our staked corpse. But this was a trick and it was his Gangrel girlfriend who was feeling the Demon's influence. Fortunately, this Demon can't read my mind and I surprised it with a stake of my own.
One who seemed to know about Demons and such came looking for it. A priest, though I'm certain he was a priest of the Beast and not of God, indicated that death would be the easiest way to release the Demon, so I removed the head of the Gangrel and set out to burn the body. Bruce, the ghoul that was masquerading as a vampire, somehow knew that a necklace that was on the Gangrel was the home of the Demon. I smashed the necklace, and as I looked up from the sulfurous cloud that rose from it I saw the fog encroaching on the house. A moment later I saw Her...
The love of my unlife, who had been assumed by all to have met her final death, stood there looking at me. In an attempt to remain nonchalant, I stopped a ruckus that had developed in a much louder way than is characteristic of me. She couldn't recognize me, could she? My face was different, my body twice its previous size, I hoped to all the unholy demons in Hell that she didn't know me. But she knew. Layla, my life, my soul, my goddess; the woman I tried to kill when last I saw her, before my long sleep, she recognized me. I had no words for her, and she wanted to talk to me. Again, what timing the Demon had, as a cloud of death and rot crept in to destroy us all, Layla wanted to talk.
We began a conversation, it seemed she didn't want to believe that I was in my right mind when I attacked her. She didn't blame me. We got that far into the conversation when Bruce came to see us in the basement and revealed that he was, in fact, Simon of Clan Tremere, Seneshal of the city of Denver, one of the two people who woke me from my long slumber to my damned third life, and declared that nobody was to be killed without his prior permission. I guess he sensed the fear that was saturating me. His orders were unneeded, though I had resolved to kill Layla and free myself from her influence, such a task was impossible when facing her. I remembered my love of her, I remembered what it was like to have a soul, I furthered my belief that I was here to save the souls of others, to act as an instrument of evil on Earth so that others would be able to see and fear evil that they may embrace God and be brought to his graces. The damned can still feel love. I knew the world was ending, but with my love in front of me I also knew that I needed to fight to save it.
The vampires in the house fled the invasive fog to the basement, with only Simon seeming to hold it at bay with the strange stone that seemed to have some power over the Demon in the fog. Reality seemed to break as walls bled, wood rotted, and tortured souls screamed in our minds. When our end was near and we had almost no hope left, Simon broke the stone, forcing the Demon to reveal his true self.
It was tall, with raven's wings and an aura of death and power. I knew we couldn't win against this fallen Angel of Death, but I was going to die fighting. Simon tried to convince it that it wasn't powerful, but I knew that wasn't the case. It was very powerful, and I was nothing compared to its divine glory. I could do nothing to it, I was nothing to it. I then looked back at Layla, meaning to die in her arms. I saw fear, despair, and pain. I knew then that I had to stop whatever was causing her to hurt, she was the angel, I was the Devil that loved her. We were Romeo and Juliet, but I could have no tragic ending. I reached to the nearest vampire, who happened to be John Doe, and pulled his fangs from his mouth and put them on my knuckles. I may die, but there is no way I could let Layla rot in the fog in pain and fear.
I lept toward the Demon and connected with my knuckle-teeth, as a black ichor flew from its face, John Doe pulled out a shotgun and blew bits off of it. It seemed unhampered, and effortlessly stabbed John Doe with a blade that he produced from nowhere. I swung again, but it wasn't there anymore, John Doe produced another spray with his gun and blew more bits off. A wave of decay washed over us from the Demon, and the flesh that I had stolen from the mortals earlier in the night rotted inside my skin and began to leak out, all I had left was what my own damned power could produce, I was naked and weak, but still determined. I swung and connected again, but when John Doe shot, the Demon vanished and reappeared at the other end of the room. Reality seemed to bend, as the Demon threw his sword at me. It came forward at super-sonic speed, I couldn't avoid it. Pain is all I felt, the world nearly fell to blackness, but the pain kept me awake and woke the Beast inside me. The world narrowed to a quiet, hazy red tunnel, at the end of which was this thing that must die. There was no more thought, no feeling, no politics, just me and the Demon. I charged and swung, but it wasn't there anymore, I searched and found it inside the cloud of death that was threatening to kill us. I didn't care, as long as I could hit it some more. I charged in and swung away at the Demon, I felt something break under my fist and smiled, I swung again. I swung again and again until it wasn't there anymore, I crushed some skeleton before I realized that there was no more fog, no more Demon.
Layla was holding me, there was nothing more to worry about. We could be together now; I, the Devil, and she, the Angel. I would show the world what there was to fear, and she could show them what there was to love. I'd saved the world for her, now she can show me what I'd saved.