You sigh, pressing the number. It rings for a few second, a bright, electronic noise, before it stops.


"Hello," a deep voice answers.


"I'm looking for Mr Gaange. I need that favor."


A light chuckle comes through the phone.


"Already? My, my, someone's been having fun. What do you need?"


"I'm here in the mineshaft just North of that fucking country house your lieutenant was holed up in. There's a werewolf pack based here, with servants helping them and large numbers. I need them wiped out."


"Yes, that does seem like an issue. Well, it's a serious favor, but it is in my interest to deal with these whelps and mongrels either way, they'll be a threat. You do know this means you agree to serve me, don't you?"


You pause for a moment, the room silent.


"I do."


"Good. Then let's get down to it."


You tell Mr Gaange everything you know about the pack and your location, before he stops you.


"That's enough. I have all I need. You're lucky, I have a team nearby covering what happened with my lieutenant. See if you can last another fifteen minutes, and I'll do the rest."


"OK," you answer heavily. "OK."


"Good. Best of luck, Mr Matasan."


The phone line goes dead, as you slowly move to the table ahead of you, picking up your shotgun, loading it carefully. You grab Father Féval's silver crucifix, leaning against the wall and sliding down it into a sitting position. You prop the shotgun up in your hands, aiming it at the tunnel ahead of you, and wait.


The waiting is long and hard. Blood loss and exhaustion is an issue, and you focus to stay alert now that the night's adrenaline has calmed. In addition to that, the beast within is howling and roaring, and at several points you have to harshly dig your silver crucifix into your bullet wound, the roar of burning pain and the cross' silver driving the wolf back for a while.


Suddenly, you see a figure entering the room, clad all in black. The figure wears black combat armor with a black gas mask, an assault rifle in his hands. The figure immediately swivels his gun to aim at you, dropping to a knee.


"Drop your weapons!" he yells, his voice muffled by his gas mask.

You surrender

You drop your weapon, smiling grimly at the man. He moves forward, as more of his squad mates move into the room, sweeping their guns around it as they enter. The soldier in front of you kicks your gun away, before motioning to someone down the tunnel.


"We're clear, we're clear, move in!" he shouts.


The squad disappears off down the tunnel, leaving only two members guarding the way they came in. Then, a figure like a shadow enters the room.


A tall, gaunt man, wear a black suit, black tie and bowler hat walks into the room. His pallor is unnaturally pale, his eyes cold and icy. He smiles at you as he enters, a polite smile with a small pair of fangs becoming clear when he does.


"Mr Matasan, I presume?" he asks, extending his long arm to you.


You grab it, shaking his hand weakly. 


"A pleasure, Mr Gaange."


Mr Gaange sniffs, pulling a disgusted look.


"You'll have to forgive my lack of manners, Mr Matasan, but by god, you smell terrible! Your blood reeks with the bestial stink of Fenrir."


You nod, motioning to the scabbed mess that shows your werewolf bite.


"Aah... unfortunate," Mr Gaange pauses. "I suppose in turning you I'll need to be draining you of your wolf blood before this conversion can take place. Are you ready to join the long night?"


"You can still convert me?" you say, frowning.


"Of course," the Vampire smiles. 


You nod, unsure how you feel about that, before nodding.


"Let's do it," you nod grimly.


Mr Gaange offers you his hand, and you take it. He lowers down, raising your wrist to his fanged mouth. Then, he bites down, two fangs disappearing into your arm with an slight stabbing pain. The vampire begins to suck, as you can feel your arm go weak, then your body, then your entire essence, your blood being drained from your body. You go woozy, eyes fluttering, before you find a new feeling in your body. A new, unholy strength of darkness building in your core. You groan, as your body grows cold, the warmth and energy drained from it, but replaced with something darker.


Moments later, the new you emerges as Mr Gaange pulls his mouth away, dabbing his face with a napkin. You look down to your wrist, two puncture holes in your skin, but no blood trickles out, for none remains.


Your body is cold, your skin pale. You feel your teeth twist in your jaw, a pair of fangs emerging down, but compared to the transformations of the night, it's heaven. Instead of endless burning pain, you just feel numb and cold. However, you feel a newfound power in you. A strength you've never felt before. You smile, nodding your head slowly. 


"Yes... this feels good," you smile. "I feel powerful."


"Good. You take to it well, little one."


You frown realizing how parched your throat is. The beast within you is dead, but your stomach is empty. You don't want food, though. The desperate desire to fill your stomach with flesh is gone. However... you thirst. Terribly so. A deep thirst runs through your body. 


"The thirst will be dealt with soon, don't worry," Mr Gaange smiles. "Sergeant Lund, have one of the captured wolf worshippers brought to me."


The sergeant nods, before saying something in Norwegian into his walkie-talkie. Mere moments later, two of the black-clad soldiers arrive in, dragging a bare-chested, heavily tattooed man with long hair and covered with scars; one of the wolf servants from earlier. He's handcuffed and gagged, but snarls and fights with every step.


"Target here, sir!" one says, bowing his head slightly.


"Offer him to my new associate, if you please, gentlemen. He's growing thirsty," Mr Gaange says.


The two soldiers nod, moving the prisoner in front of you. They grab his head, pulling it aside to reveal his bare neck.


"Enjoy the meal, my good man," Mr Gaange says, grinning. 


With that, you're unable to resist the thirst, feeling so desperate for a think that you'll do anything. You dart your head forward, sinking your fangs into the man with predatory instinct. The man screams into his gag as his artery bursts, as you press your mouth up against the wound and begin to drain him of his blood. You gulp down the blood as quickly as you can, the warm blood filling you and sating your thirst as you sigh in joy. You drink for as long as you can, each gulp bringing you strength and power. Eventually, you pull your head back, your mouth covered with blood as you smile, filled with strength once more. The two soldiers lift the drained corpse onto their shoulders, looking to Mr Gaange.


"Thank you, gentlemen, thank you," Mr Gaange smiles.


You drop to your knees once more, feeling truly powerful and in control, and full. Strength ebbs through your body, as you grin from ear to ear, power filling your very core.


You look up at Mr Gaange, as he offers you his hand.


"Take my hand, Mr Matasan. Tonight, your new life begins."


You feel the power course through your veins, wondering if you could strike and take him down. You'd be breaking your deal, but you have the element of surprise.

You take Mr Gaange's hand

In Service of the Night


The rest of the night is a hunt of the truest order. With the Hunters, you had limited support, limited training and only whatever equipment you could find. These men are an entirely different order. With unnatural speed, unnatural perception and unnatural strength, they move quickly through the mineshaft, their high-tech gear and weapons  giving them the edge. 


Soon, the pack's been wiped out, every one of the kind dead. You're led out of the mineshaft to where a trio of black helicopters await you, and you're taken off to serve Mr Gaange in your new life.


Life serving Mr Gaange is good. You're given a comfortable, secluded country house in your home country, a small place in Glasgow, although you spend most of your time in hotels and apartments abroad. You serve Mr Gaange as his primary hunter, tasked with targeting the same supernatural threats you hunted in life, investigating them and leading the elimination with Mr Gaange's security force. The types you normally go after are those who cross Mr Gaange, those that threaten to expose the existence of the supernatural to the mortal realm, or those who stand as a threat to man itself, like the werewolf pack you dealt with the night of your first vampiric feeding.


Mr Gaange takes good care of you, like he said. You earn a six figure salary with plenty of perks, and whenever you can't secure some scumbag to feed off in your investigations or hunting, you simply have to call Mr Gaange. Days or even hours later, a bound and gagged man is delivered to you. Mr Gaange assures you that these men are the worst of the worst; traitors, rapists, murderers and those who conspired to help the creatures of the night spill innocent blood. You're never sure, though.


That's a common theme with Mr Gaange. Uncertainty. Through and through it all, you're never sure what his motives are. He sure seems interested in helping humanity, but it could all be to get good publicity and keep the loyalty of his more moral minded servants. You're never sure what his true goals are, or what he really wants. Of course, you know not to look into it. You have a lot of freedom in doing your work, but that privilege is not within your reach.


Still, life is good under Mr Gaange. Sure, you miss the sunlight, and the certainty that what you were doing was right with the Lodge, but overall, you're more effectively hunting your foe and you're living at a far higher standard of living. 


You were once weak and mortal. But now, you are a true hunter. A Vampire. And the night, which was once ruled by the monsters, now belongs to you.