ash

Jun knows from the prickling sensation at the back of his neck that someone is watching him as he sweeps the last of the Kindred ashes into the small cardboard box in his hand. They are the redhead's ashes, dead Kindred crumbling to non-existence in a matter of seconds.

Slowly Jun places the box in the fire burning steadily in the hearth. He has had to sacrifice his best wooden chair to light that. He watches as the flames lick slowly at the cardboard, consuming it until there is nothing left of the box full of ashes but more ash.

"I knew him, you know."

The sudden voice at the window causes Jun to whip around.

The blond is sitting on his windowsill, body facing the cold night sky but head turned to speak to Jun. His legs dangle awkwardly from the side.

"His name was Matthew, but they liked to call him Night."

Jun doesn't feel like speaking; he is used to strange visits. He notices detachedly that the blond has never stopped smiling since Jun has set eyes on it.

"He was a pianist before he died. Brilliant pianist."

Jun never takes his eyes off the Kindred as he reaches for his now cold coffee and takes a sip.

The Kindred's red eyes gleam in the dim light.

Jun places the mug back on the coffee table and shoves his hands into his pockets. "And you are?" he asks.

The Kindred holds out a narrow, slender hand, its veins showing through the pale skin. "Merox. Eric Merox."

Jun shrugs, not taking the proffered hand. "Haven't heard of you."

Merox nods. "I know."

"You know an awful lot of things, don't you?" Jun asks curtly.

Merox's grin widens. He withdraws his hand. "I know enough."

Jun watches as the fire slowly becomes smaller and smaller. "And I suppose you know who killed him, then?"

Merox cocks his head to one side as he watches Jun, who still does not look at him. "Of course I do, Merox says, matter-of-factly. "I did."

As he utters those words, Jun whips around, silver gun in hand. He points it directly at Merox's chest. "I'm sure you know what this is," he snarls, near-black brown eyes daring Merox to move. "It's a 2210 Kindred pistol. If I pull this trigger, you'll be Kindred ash smouldering in another cardboard box."

Merox doesn't gulp, doesn't freeze at the sight of the gun. Instead, he gazes coolly back at Jun. "I know."

"Tell me why you killed him." Jun tries to make his voice steady, but he can't hide the slight quiver in it. "You don't just go around killing people. You kill someone for a reason."

Merox smiles. It's a queer smile, not quite like the one he's been wearing for the better part of their meeting. It's so strange a smile that it's almost like a frown. "You don't want to know."

Jun takes a step forward, and Merox absently wonders if he's afraid of heights.

"Why did you kill him?"

Merox kicks his left foot slightly, and one of his scuffed trainers, its shoelace untied and loose, flies off his foot, plunging down towards the ground in inky soundless darkness. "No really," Merox says, "You don't want to know. I don't want to know myself, but I do."

Jun is so angry that his hand is now shaking uncontrollably with suppressed rage. Merox vaguely notes that if Jun had wings they'd be the ones doing the uncontrollable shaking. "Shut up and tell me, dammit," Jun growls- snarls- the glint in his eyes shockingly disconcerting. "TELL ME, DAMMIT!"

Merox can't tell which is louder- the sound of a gunshot being fired, or the roaring in his ears as a silver-tipped bullet punctures his chest. He only knows that there is a silence in the way Jun looks at him right then, and then he wonders if Francis' bank account number is still valid; if not she won't get any money, the poor girl.

Jun's mouth works soundlessly as he tries to choke out an, 'I'm sorry', but then Merox cuts him off with that queer smile again.

"You would have had the most beautiful wings, Jun," Merox whispers, before he leans back into the inexorable embrace of true death.

First it is Eric Merox falling into the inky blackness of the Hypogeum night.

And then it is the light scattering sound of ash landing imperceptibly on the pavement below.

Jun thuds heavily to the carpeted floor of his living room, knocked out cold by a well-placed tranquilliser dart in the back of his neck.