Subways and Undergrounds by pixiegreen

Chapter 2-Karl pov.-London

The London underground, you have to be brave to try and ride it on you own for your first time, not only does it stink of urine but of the many odors of over a thousand people that push their way onto the over crowded boxes everyday. Karl smiled as he passed the young musician strumming away on his guitar and singing for pennies as loud as he could just to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the busy people that hurried by to catch the speedy trains before its two minute stop finishes and it races away again to its next stop at Piccadilly.

He hated London, it wasn't the place itself that bothered him or the strange multitude of mortals all crammed into one giant city but it was the memories its streets and old buildings held.

It was all Harry's fault of course, sixty seven years ago it had been his bright spark idea that if you want to stay hidden from the trackers you should find the city that has the largest population of the enemy and set up camp, and what it worse he set up their base right on the doorstep to the largest Lycan base ever built. Admittedly he didn't know they were practically next door neighbors until they had fully set up a hideout and moved their lot in that he discovered how idiotic he had been. He had thought that the werewolves would never think to check their own base city for vampires as it would be unthinkable for vampires to actually choose to hide in the dog infested city. Harry was wrong.

It had been a blood bath, not only were they sniffed out within six days but they lost seven good fighters just trying to leave their hideout, but that's what life was like for vampires then, he has lost countless friends because of this war. Before the war he had never imagined loosing any one of his friends to something as improbable as death, they were immortal powerful beings, what could possibly harm them? It is a miracle that there are many left now.

The Lycans had wiped out the majority of the Vampire clans by then and were fiercely tracking the last of them, many vampires never stopping in a city for longer than a few days as they would fear the many packs on their tail. It wasn't until Ian, the eldest of them all, united them into one family were they able to stop running and hold some ground.

Karl missed the old days when vampires were free to roam their cities, feed where they wish and mingle with the ever changing mortals around them, he remembered a time when he joined a mortal actors troop, blending in as best he could playing minor characters in their second rate plays just to see if he could get away with it, even having numerous flings with various members of the cast. When he was a young vampire it took effort to blend in, but when he was with those actors on stage they were all painted in the same white grease paint and the same overdone stage make-up so that the only thing that could be noticed would be his abnormally deep eyes and his unnaturally graceful movements. Sometimes he would pretend to bump into things or stumble over a step; he still maintains that the greatest role he ever played was not the characters he became on stage but the clumsy wooden actor who no one could quite remember the name of. At this time he had been a young and unimportant member of the Drokain clan in Venice. It was only when the Werewolf battles began did his name become more important. He was found along with Harry and a few others to be great fighters, though the clan was later taken down by the Lycans and the majority of it members with it, it survived the longest due to this groups skill and bravery. Today those great fighters survive and are part of the remaining members of Ian's Last clan; Karl was making his way to Heathrow airport for his ten fifteen flight to Edinburgh.

He was finally returning to the Clans home, it had been many years since he packed up his few belongings and went out to see his old haunts, discover new places and experiences. He looked forward to seeing his old friends Harry and Viggo after their long years apart.

The war was so quiet now that it was almost like the two sides had disappeared, though Karl is not foolish enough to believe it is all over. The Vampires pride has been so badly wounded that the Werewolves cannot go unpunished so long as the Vampires survive.

Karl flicks the few coins he finds in his pockets into the guitarists case before evaporating into the crowded underground.
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