It was old; somewhat run down and weary-looking from ages of disuse, giving the local children a good locale to use as a 'haunted house' of sorts in the city of Myrken Wood. A decade ago, the reclusive remnant of a once wealthy and powerful family of Merchants, died from a horrible fever. Having no heirs or friends to whom the property would go to, it was eventually siezed by the government of Myrken Wood and with the passage of years, forgotten amidst brambles, creeping plants and weeds. Sitting on the Easternmost edge of Myrken Wood, and its surrounding property nearly full of small clusters of tall maple and oak trees, it was quite out of the way and easily passing into obscurity. Until now.....
* * * * *
"This way please, good sir. I can't honestly fathom why anyone in their right mind, would want to spend the money to purchase this old piece of land." The agent of Myrken Wood's civil government mutterd, slightly chill air giving rise to some mist from the fetid breath that passed his greasy lips. Behind him, stepping over a small mange of thorns and wirey vines that spilt out onto the cobbled-stone walkway up to the house proper, was a tall man. Pale features shone in the moonlight, wreathed by sable tresses and brightened by the sharp contrast of the darkness that suffused his very essence. Even brighter still, if that was possible, were the twin shards of silver - the surface of a mirror - that were his eyes, narrowed faintly as he followed the portly official into the yard, passing the looming stone wall topped with black wrought iron spikes to keep pests out.
"Perhaps sir, I am not in my right mind." Cold but sensual, the deep voice resonated richly from the dark man, as he came to pause next to the man, once he stopped before the front door. "You have the deed and necessary papers for this purchase, I assume?"
"Of course, Master Seranos! I wouldn't drag your lordship out in the middle of the night on some fool's errand." With an ingratiatingly low bow, the heavy-set man fished into his jacket for several old documents, before presenting them; a strong hand, snug in leather the hue and sheen of pitch, taking them and allowing for those strangely cold eyes to make sure all was in order.
"Thank you, Rodekirk. You have been most helpful in our business dealings." The man, Seranos, turned and pressed the front door open with a resounding groan of eldritch wood, straining against rusted hinges.
"Urm...Lord Seranos? What about....my payment?"
The words gave pause in midstride to the Demon, swathed in the flesh of men. Casting a cold glance over his shoulder, the corner of a pale lip twitched faintly.
"Oh, very well." The step of his hard-soled boot continued, rapping harshly upon the tiled marble of the mansions entrance hall, partially obscuring the sickening gurgle from behind him as Rodekirk's throat was torn open upon the visceral claws of a sinewy gray humanoid, orbs of deep black blinking from its otherwise featureless head. As the heavy wooden doors swung closed behind the Demon, the strange creature knelt over the spreading pool of blood, and dug its talons into the flesh of the mans back, slowly flensing away the skin from muscle and sinew. Fifteen minutes later, with much practiced skill, the pieces of bloody flesh were layed atop leathery skin, building a suit of sorts from the remnants of the dead man. One hour later, the skin-changing beast stepped from the tall iron gate onto the street of Myrken Wood, adjusting the jacket that hung about his portly frame and moved down the street humming an old wenching song.
And from in the arched glass doors of the master bed-chambers balcony, the Demon stood, watching the city sleep soundly, unaware of the new cancer that had taken root in the community - one that would take back the darkness from the Vampires, and bring the sun-loving people to their knee's.
* * * * *
At dawn the next day, the mansion was cleaned and rebuild, looking as new as the day it was first created so many years past. Lawns were green, flower bushes trimmed neatly amidst pure statues of marble and fountains of crystaline waters, cool and pleasant as a mountain spring. As the first passerby's slowed to see the wonderous place that had sprung up overnight, they were invited in for a tour of the grounds by well-groomed men and women, garbed in robes of white silks. It was a house of Healing, where those who sought refuge from ills could come and take a room for the night at no charge. Be your ills physical, emotional, or mental, all were welcome within the peaceful-seeming compound. Tended by a cloister of 'healers' and teachers from all across the world, they sought to bring some relief into a torturous world of pain. Through magick, holistic, medicinal and other esoteric skills, the healers would tend to patrons just as a hospital - offering warm meals, and safe places to rest.
Spread the word, for Sanctuary is now open.