Midnight walk down cannibal Street

Setting: the upper class suburb of Michaelstown, a gated community of superficial perfection. Large, opulent homes line the clean, smooth streets, and white picket fences surround each house. To the eye of an outsider, it's the dream of post war America, a little garden of suburban perfection. Scratch the surface, however, and the worms and maggots spill out. Husbands beat their wives, wives poison their husbands, children blackmail their teachers. No one gets to Michaelstown without stepping on someone else to get there. Kathy McCay smothered her infant son. Bernie Sean hit a man on his way home from work and then kept driving. Michaelstown is a quiet, seething infection that no one can see before it's too late.

Regnet: You're all ghouls in the thrall of Isabelle, a gangrel new in town and hoping to carve out her own niche. She wears her party girl facade like a stolen skin, holes wearing through over time, the thirty two year old Beast in her chewing holes in the disguise. She appears as an attractive Asian-American woman in her mid-twenties, with a sharp smile and soft features.

Character Template
Name
Age
Race/Gender

Occupation

Bio

Name: David Mulch
Age: 26
Race/Gender: White Male
Occupation: Photographer and Paparazzo




The floor was hard against my ass as I sat against the foot of the couch. Staring at an array of cameras that put together was more or less about five grand. The sound of near muted news tickled my ears as my vision blurred at the edges. The world was less colorful now, my hobby unfulfilling, food was ash, and cigarettes' lethal kiss less enticing. If that woman was like anyone else, the walls of this apartment would be covered with stolen memories and she would be dialing 911 at every sound. But she wasn't, the walls have a few scarce photos that made me look like an amateur with a camera. Blurred or damage in some way, unusable. I can't even update my entries so my subscribers can enjoy and fester in their damaged little lives.
The phone's ring was muffled at first and sounded like was spinning around my head, the first was soft enough I hesitated before answering, the second was like any day before now, but the third was nails on chalkboards.
"Hello?" I answered unsure of who was calling, didn't check just wanted to sound to end.
"Is this...Bright Eyes?" The voice sounded familiar yet no names came forward to mind. I Looked at the phone to make sure this wasn't my personal but one of the burners, it was.
"Who is asking?" I asked while starting to stand, nearly losing my balance several times. Light headed and vision blurring more than before, it was getting worst.
"Its Johnathan Quint, I hired you when you were on the west coast bracket, you saved my magazine when you brought in those Harriet Tru's nudes and the story about her brother's incarceration. Look I saw that you had a listing in Michealstown and looks like the job ins't going anywhere. I know some good loot there if you need cash, I have a list of names. Some are celebrities, others politicians, some family of rivals. You get the drift. Send anything my way I'll pay your fees, hell it could help break whatever block is happening with you...Hello? You still there?" This guy was loud, proud, and very obnoxious, something I didn't want. Every sentence made my head throb and each throb told me to hang up. But the cash was good, and this apartment is not cheap.
"I'm still here, I'll do it, send them to this phone and I'll start working, might be a few days before anything. I got to check something first."
"Thats my ma..." I hung up before he could finish. My body was quivering and I needed to see her now, I just don't know if I can make it without hurting myself." Hesitantly I dialed in the number, then closed the phone. I dropped myself onto the couch and huddled into myself for what seemed like agonizing hours. I doze off to wake in a sweat, four fucking minutes had past. Dialing again I hit send, waiting and hoping she answered.

Name: Miles Madsen
Age: 25
Race/Gender: White Male
Occupation: Graphic Design Graduate Student/Marketing Intern

I couldn't wait to go back and see her.

A few weeks ago, I'd finally gotten the chance to celebrate my new job- Er, well, internship- at a local office for a pharmaceutical company. I'd been hired to be on the team to help design logos and packages for their products, and they'd been working my ass to the bone to milk every cent's worth of labor. I'd finally gotten a day off, which meant hitting the only real club in town, Royale, that night. The hangover would be so worth letting loose, but I had no clue that I was in for the ride of a lifetime.

I met the most amazing girl there. A bit shorter, drop-dead cute asian girl, long, well-kept black hair, and the skimpiest dress I'd ever seen. Izzy, she said her name was, short for Isabelle. We drank, danced, laughed, drank some more... it was fantastic. I hadn't partied harder since undergrad. Then she took me around the back to "show" me something...

I don't remember much about what happened the rest of that night, other than the feeling of what she'd put in my drink. It was like no drug I'd ever tried, no booze I'd ever drank, no sex I'd ever had. Whatever it was, it was amazing. I had to have more.

Every night since, I've gone back, again and again, hoping to find her. I'm sure that tonight, I will. I have to. I need to have more.

I had never expected what happened when I did.