White Rock Lake

A reservoir, White Rock Lake covers 1,254 acres and was once used for a portion of Dallas' drinking water supply. Now that it's use as a water source has been supplanted, the area has become one of the favored recreational locations in the city. The forested shoreline is dotted with numerous small cabins, fishing piers, and sailboat docks.

The lake is surrounded by White Rock Lake Park, which is home to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden. Running through the park is a 9 mile trail designed for hiking, running or cycling.

Though swimming was banned here back in the '50's, it is still a popular location for area teens who generally enjoy the more deserted areas, using the beautiful backdrop as a makeout spot.

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The heavens have opened up, giving the city of Dallas a soaking, and when it finished, left behind a cool air mass settled overtop. Fog covers the ground while the higher clouds obscure the stars. It's a damp evening, darker because the faux gaslamps have no aid from the sky. There are none about save one, thanks to it being midweek and frankly unpleasant out of doors.

And this one has no need for any other at the moment. Clad in black, the signs of his feeding are obscured in the fabric, and all that remains are the tinges of pink that cover his face near his lips.. and even they are wiped away, albeit casually.

Marius Schlachter stands at the edge of the fog coated lake, standing statue still, his gaze unmoving from the vista before him. He can hear the animals of the park, the rabbits, squirrels.. and the occasional mongrel cat or dog looking for food left behind.


Bloody stupid, McKendrick! Rachel silently berates herself as she pulls the SUV into the vacant parking spot beneath the misty, stark sodium light of the standard nearest the end of the virtually empty lot. She twists her keys in the ignition, letting the engine die completely before she pulls the keys out and clenches them in her fist. Probably one of the most dangerous vampires in the whole damned city and you agree to meet him alone at the lake. And on a dark and stormy night, no less. Could you get any more cliche?

Not to mention breaking almost every reg in the book. Still, she did tell the boys at the precinct where she was going. In fact, she even promised to call them when she arrived — and when she was finished, should she survive it. Thus, she fishes her cell out of its dashboard cradle and jabs the precinct speed dial button. Dispatch answers.

"Yeah," the FBI agent says aloud. "Holly. Tell Alvarez I'm at the Lake. If I haven't checked in, in 30, send the black'n'whites."

Call made, she pushes out of the SUV, now, catching up the phone and slipping it into the pocket of her leather blazer. The keys remain in her fist, her free hand making an automatic brush down her side to reassure herself of the weight of her weapon in its holster beneath the jacket.

It's still there. Largely useless, no doubt, in the face of this encounter, but there nonetheless. And, somehow, it is comforting.

Now, she makes her way toward the nearest paved walking trail, heading to her appointed rendezvous with 'The Slaughterer'.


The lights of truck garners the vampire's attention, though he doesn't move. Instead, he waits the minutes that it takes her to gather herself and exit her vehicle. Only when the crunching of gravel underfoot becomes louder as she draws closer does Marius lift his head from his view and turn around slowly, his hands still stuck seeminly casually in his pockets. The vampire likes cliche; it amuses him immensely. Particularly after being told about the other vampire stories.

"You are alone." While it wasn't a requirement for the meeting or even a request, Marius does take note of these things. "Your masters are that certain of your abilities."


Rachel has no illusion as to the vampire's perceptive power. Which means she assumes he can tell she has misgivings just by the beat of her heart. Preacher taught her a lot about that trick. Nonetheless, she gives a New Yorker's tight, off-handed, twist of a half-smile and raises her head. "They know I get results," she replies. It's true enough, really, though that doesn't mean they like the risks she takes. But, since they also don't know how she gets her results, she's good with keeping them in the dark about that trick.

"You're not an easy man to track down, Mr. Schlachter. I'm…" she pauses momentarily, searching for a suitable word, "gratified you agreed to meet me."

Gratified definitely isn't the right word. But it's a polite one.


Oh, he can feel it.. her heart, the heat that emenates from her body.. and it all translates into a deep seated but unspoken and controlled fear. No.. not fear per se, but wariness. Respect and understanding, perhaps?

"Results, only when you are alone." Marius inclines his head in acknowledgment. Something learned, certainly.

Taking a step away from the side of the lake, the vampire offers something rarely seen with him; an almost human gesture in the form of a shrug. "We still keep to ourselves, lamb. There are younger ones who believe they are closer to you than to those like me, but they soon learn." It's only a couple of steps he takes before he stops once again, his head canting slightly, "What is it you wish?"


"I wish to talk to you about the recent attacks against your kind," Rachel says, voice even, even as she absorbs his words, the matter-of-fact tone of them. It's difficult, she knows, to accurately assess a vampire's body language — especially in light of what Isonzo once told her, that the vampires had to physically will themselves to display it.

So, really, she's willing to believe Marius' words regardling young vampires as compared to old.

"It's my job to find out who's responsible and ensure they're brought to justice. It would be really helpful to me if you'd tell me all you know about it."

She's only her gut to tell her that he's got more information than anyone else she's yet met. For all she knows, he's a nobody among the local vampiric hierarchy. But she doubts it.

And she's not forgotten that vision. But, until she knows more… she's not going to go broadcasting it, either.


"I believe you have one in custody at the moment. One who took a vehicle that belonged to the blood bank.. unless he has been released by your courts." If Marius knows the current status of the man they'd.. 'interrogated' and then given to authorities, he's not letting on.

"I too would wish to see them brought to justice."

Marius turns his back to the investigator now and takes a couple of slow steps back towards the edge of the lake. "I am curious as to why you believe I have the information you seek." The german accented voice rises slightly due to his path; on a human, he'd wish to be heard, but this.. probably more theatric than necessity. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out.. a splinter of wood. A good sized piece; stake-sized, charred. "I have been present, too late, at some of the burnings of the cross on property. This one is from a restaurant. Medieval Times." He pauses in his speech and turns about to watch her, "Have you any information about those burning crosses in our kind's businesses?"


"Yeah," Rachel grunts, blunt northern accent as thick as the vampire's German. "He's been been interrogated; there are charges pending." Charges pending further investigation. "As far as I can say, there were 3 missing blood shipments, and 6 vampire-friendly establishments hit."

She glances down to the burnt splinter of wood in Schlachter's hand. "I also have reason to believe that the so-called Silver Shackle Suicide wasn't." A suicide, that is.

She gestures to the wood. "May I?" Pick it up, she means.


"I am certain there are more unaccounted for missing shipments. Mary's was missing their regularly scheduled deliveries, at least. None of that was reported, however, believing there was some minor problems that could be worked out with.. the suppliers." Marius smiles ever so slightly, but it doesn't give much life to the dead blue eyes. "I think," his voice raises in conversation, "that three is all we can truly prove." Which, as far as he's concerned, keeps the others nicely within his 'realm', as it were.

"'Silver Shackle Suicide,'" is repeated. "The vampire who was murdered. No, it was not, I assure you. A vampire would not choose their final death in such a manner." Marius pauses, and his brows rise in mimicry of human gesture, "Are the police working on solving that crime then? I was under the impression that they were no longer." Which would be about right, if he understands how everything is connected correctly. "That it was simply .. unsolved." He inclines his head slightly, almost making it appear as if it was a brief bow, "A suicide, then."

The shard of wood held in Marius' hand lays easily, and holding it up with hs fingers, he looks at it intently. "I was much offended that they burned a cross. Blasphemy. So, I took a part to be a relic and had it blessed by a priest." And when it does its job… "I carry it with me as a remembrance."


Rachel gives a tight smile. "The municipal forces are no longer working on it, that's true. But that's because it's been transferred to federal jurisdiction." A beat. "My jurisdiction. Forensics were inconclusive, but…" that's not so uncommon as most crime dramas would lead most people to believe. She doesn't say that last bit, however. Instead, she completes the sentence with: "there are still leads to follow." Indeed. The blood bank fellow was as forthcoming with her as he was with Marius, if a little twitchy.

As he holds up the… stake, Rachel glances up at it and then to him. She betrays no surprise at his religious reference. Again, Isonzo was quite revealing about that, too.

And, besides… Preacher liked to hang out in a church.

What is it about vampires and religion?

"Did you know Sampson McCauley at all?"

The name of the Silver Shackle Suicide.


"Federal. Why is that?"

Marius does palm the stake again, allowing Rachel to take it from his hand, but should she, he watches it closely and carefully. A relic he seeks to keep, undoubtedly. "I would know why and how it came that the death of a vampire was important enough for this nation's government police is interested in it?"

Shaking his head ever so slightly, he looks at the woman before him, and offers a one-shouldered shrug. She knows or rather, does not believe in the fables of vampires, judging from her reaction.. fearful of the cross, of churches and blessings from priests. Interesting. "I did not know him, no. This is a large city, after all."


Rachel does reach up to pick up the wood as it lays flat once more on the Vampire's palm. She is, however, careful not to touch him. As it is, she's also fairly ginger with the wood, itself. She brings it up toward the nearest light source — not that there's much. Still, there's enough of the grain through the char to give some idea of the type of wood they used. Not that it much matters. It could have been from any lumber yard anywhere in the city.

She's torn, though — half grateful that there's no VOID attached to it. That might have made things all that much easier. However, she's entirely grateful there was nothing that could possibly trip another vision in front of the vampire.

Which either means the wood's not important, she muses silently, or it's not what he says it is. She looks up at Marius, laying the wood back in his palm, again careful not to touch him.

"I'm going out on a limb, here," she says, taking a deep, decisive breath. "But, I don't think I'm wrong in assuming you have greater access to the vampire community than I do. If you… happen to come across information about Mr. McCauley, I'd appreciate it if you'd contact me. You need to understand, Mr. Schlachter, the reason this case has risen to a federal level is because it's fairly clear that the missing blood shipments, the attacks on the vampire sympathizers, the burning crosses, and Mr. McCauley's death are part of an escalating pattern. I believe they're all related, and my superiors do, too. And, my job is to track and apprehend serial attackers of this sort. We need the perpetrator stopped as much as you do."


Marius studies the woman as she takes the wood, careful not to touch him. It's all he can do not to simply.. close his hand and grab her wrist, but he does not. He remembers the last time she touched him.. and he departed, his back turned to a quivering mass of investigator, curled in fetal position. He believes in seers, in witches, in twin-souled.. and in that case, perhaps she simply has .. something of a reaction when touching vampires?

He curls his fingers around the remains and replaces it in his inside jacket pocket before dropping his hands once again into his pants pockets. "You are correct," Marius looks up from his brief adjustment of his clothes, "I do have greater access than you." Even though she has her government behind her. "If there is anything I discover about Mr. McCauley, I will certainly pass the information along." Once they've had a chance to go through the information for validity.. James is good for that. "I believe you gave your contact information to Dr. Brooks." Which is why his Chosen was so upset that night.

In another rarity, Marius actually draws breath simply to exhale it once more.. and draws another to speak. "Your government is actually concerned about my kind." A statement, though couched within is the disbelief. "Really." The vampire takes a step to the side, "No matter who it may be that is doing this, you will stop them." He allows for an unamused lopsided smile. "I do not believe that for a minute, lamb.. but we shall see when all this is done, yes?"

Until then, however.. "I will take my leave. There is more to which I must attend this evening. I hope your hunt is as successful as mine." There isn't much chance given for Rachel to stop his departure, but rather than kick in the vampire speed, he simply turns and begins to make his way towards the trails into the woods.


Part of the secret of good investigation is knowing when to push and when to walk away. The vampire's attitude doesn't surprise Rachel at all. And, tonight's not the night to push. Now, at the very least, she's managed to meet the vampire face to face to assess him — as much as he's assessed her.

"We will," she affirms.

But, as he walks away, she makes no move to follow. Instead, she takes her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. By the time she makes it back to the SUV and starts the engine, it'll be time to check in.

"Have a good night, Mr. Schlachter," she says to his retreating form, knowing he'll hear her even at a distance.

Then, displaying more courage than she feels, she turns her back on the woods and heads for her truck.

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