Galen waited in the car he had taken from the now dead Rachel Witten. There was a tap on the window, and the familiar, black robed figure of Constable Ihrem stood there. His eyes blazed a in human blue, and his beard was long and wiry. The Constable sat in the passenger seat and discussed the events of the night with Galen. He explained that he and his men were now severely overworked as they would be now fighting to keep the peace between the Lancea Sanctum and the Circle of the Crone. Galen was asked to hand over any evidence that might help in diffusing the situation, but considering the heresies that circle the Cult of Mithras it would be difficult for either side to back down. The Constable also warned that Galen was making a habit of Amaranth, and that he would now be watching him even closer. Especially given the taint that was in his aura.
The next day Galen arrived at the apartment block where Tristan had made his haven. Tristan had been busy. Using his ghouls he had staked out the location of the hunters, the same place the Ordo Dracul had given him. The ghouls had gone one better, and taken the opportunity to kidnap one of the hunters who was now in the basement of the apartment block.
In the dark and damp basement, on a wooden chair, bloody and beaten, was tied the hunter. The ghouls had already made a mess of him. But these were superficial injuries. The long night of pain was about to begin. Tristan took his time, pulling the man’s finger nails out, and after each kissed and licked the blood from the ragged stumps. Once those were gone, Tristan’s friend, the Gangrel, Chuck, took to punching the man, trying to get every bit of information from him. But he did not give in. Galen could hardly watch as the man was battered, and the chamber echoed with each wet slap of flesh on flesh.
Galen took charge of the questioning, seeking to try calm the man and act his confessor. As calm as possible he spoke to the man, offering a cigarette and water. But the questioning only got so far. The hunter looked on horrified. To his eyes Galen was a noseless, snarling, hellion. The man screamed as he looked on, crying for God’s forgiveness. Chuck, not wanting to take risks, knocked the man out.