Greystoke Industries - Night: Two Nights Before the Next Full Moon...
High above the noises of the city, a detachment of armed guards gathered on the roof of Greystoke Industries. Covered in sleek black body armor, each individual's body remained hidden. All that could be seen were the savage glow of their feral eyes through their face masks.
The leader among them was older than the rest. Nearly two hundred years old, he was a battle-hardened immortal - a lycan. Having bee turned directly by the alpha himself, the blood of the ancients or "First Wolves" ran through his veins.
As he walked around the perimeter, he only stopped for an instant to either sniff the air, listen to his surroundings, or to peer into the distance.
With a silent nod of his head, the immortals surrounding him stepped into formation. The leader then reached up to his earpiece and said, "Clear for landing..."
With that, the sound of a small military jet could be heard in the distance. Though it had been circling the area for a few minutes, it finally made its gradual approach towards the roof - stopping directly over the rooftop landing area in hovering mode.
When the landing gear gently touched down upon the roof, the rear loading door opened and more armed guards exited the craft. As they lined up along the sides, a man with a cane appeared on the ramp. His long coat flowed in the wind as he made his way down from the craft.
There were no lights on the roof, as each individual could already see in the dark. Making his way toward the man exiting the craft, the leader of the rooftop detachment dropped to his knee. "My Lord..." he said, keeping his head bowed towards the dark figure which approached. Truth be told, the leader had no idea what to expect from his lord. It had been years since he had even laid eyes on him, or since he had even stepped foot in the Western Hemisphere.
"You've served me well." the dark figure said, placing his hand gently upon the leader's shoulder. "Stand up... It's been too long, my old friend..." With that, he brought the leader to his feet and the two embraced as brothers.
For the first time since the events of Madrid, William Greystoke had returned to New York...
Making his way down to the penthouse suite, William and his comrade sat next to a roaring fireplace. At that point, the fireplace served as the only light source within the room.
It revealed the subtle aging in William's face. As he took his seat, he was able to lean his cane against a nearby table. Never before had he ever needed such an object, but it had become necessary. His hair, once a rich dark brown, had faded into grey.
"What happened over there?" the detachment leader asked. "...not just in Madrid... but everywhere? What happened to YOU?"
"It's a long story..." William replied in a weary tone. "It's just fortunate that we are nearing the next full moon... but there's no benefit in looking to the past though. We need to concern ourselves with what lies ahead."
Without saying a word, a member of William's detachment entered the room with an inoculation device and a bucket. Loaded in it was vial that appeared to be blood. Taking the device with an almost trembling hand, William raised it to his neck and pulled the trigger - shooting the solution directly into his blood stream.
He suddenly shot straight back in his chair, his body shaking in physical pain. As his comrade immediately rushed to his aid, William raised his hand - signaling his loyal subject to stand down.
William's veins all appeared the raise near the surface of his skin - black in appearance under his flesh. His eyes suddenly changed into a feral yellow color and took on the appearance of an animal. At that moment, his veins began to recede and return to their original appearance, his face began to lose its aged appearance, and his hair began to darken.
Quickly grabbing the bucket, William leaned over and retched into it - coughing up a vile black liquid... tainted blood. He then sat back and took a deep breath. His features continued to revert to their former look as his breathing became more steady.
After a few seconds, William stood up from his chair without the assistance of his cane. All had returned to its normal state except for his eyes. They maintained their feral state and glowed.
Slowly turning his back on the fire, William walked towards the large windows which overlooked the city of New York. After looking over the city for a moment, he turned and said, "We have work to do..."
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