* STRANGER DANGER

[Merovingian King Pryce]

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"Where's the money, chico?" The voice echoed in a boisterous manner, reverberating all against the brick walls, against the pounding and fervent chants of fans in the place. The latest match had featured the likes of the cult favorite, Drago, beating the other man, who shall remain nameless, into submission. The fans had their deliverance of blood and gore, and the man could barely be recognized after the match. As the infirmary came in and took him away, the fighters were given a slight reprieve and enough time to gather their senses. One in particular, Jimmy Corleone, had owed Rodrigo a hefty sum of money a few months ago, and had been avoiding him sense. Getting all the information about his location, his job and everything, the feisty Italian made sure that he would get his money -- or something else in return. One more, he yelled, delivering a forceful punch to the stern of the human, crippling him to the floor. "I'm telling you man, I lost it! Some guy jumped me a few days ago, honest, I-I swear!"

The men were telling him that Jimmy was lying through his teeth, and only wanted to save himself. Brushing back a few strands of his short hair, he paced back and forth in quick bursts, glancing down at him every now and then. "You know, my boys think you're full of Sh*t, Jimmy. Are you full of Sh*t?" Jimmy didn't answer, still trying to get himself together, but when Rodrigo asked a question to someone, he demanded an answer. They pulled him right back up, and he went right back down with another well-placed right hook to the face. "Are you full of Sh*t, answer me!" The fights were all but done, except for a couple of main event matches that were sure to net a boatload of money. Rodrigo would be part of those festivities, already betting almost ten thousand dollars for the burly human to win over the over -- didn't know the name, only knew that he was rather badass to the point of warranting him enough to bet on. Though he could be wrong and be out of a considerable amount of his current purse. He'd get his money someway or another. "N-no, Rodrigo! No man, swear, they took the money!"

Still without belief, Rodrigo stepped back, allowing the boys to beat on him a little bit more. But he had something else in mind entirely, as he walked over to a small black bag, and pulled out a brown metal blade with a simple hilt. The blade itself was somewhat curved and not done at all. In all honestly, it looked like a caveman's weapon from the islands. "Alright, Jimmy, I like you. I know you're a smart man and that you just happened to accidentally lose my money." They were beginning to crowd over him, as Rodrigo swung the blade a few times, just to get the feel of it. "'Chu know what this is? We like to use these in the Caribbean to cut down sugarcane. It's a machete." The rusty blade glowed right in Jimmy's eyes, and feared for his life, but before he could do anything, the boys seized him completely, holding one side of his body, and fully extending his right arm, right to the hand. Tried and tried he did t escape, but when you were surrounded by four men that answered to Rodrigo, you just couldn't escape. They ripped the clothing from his arm, and extending his hand, right when Rodrigo placed the blade against the skin, sending a shock of horror through his entire body. "N-no, Rodrigo! W-what are y-you doing!?" He didn't answer him, which sent his nerves on fire. Higher and higher he rose the blade, and more and more, he attempted to struggle, but it was to no avail.

In the blink of an eye, the deed was done.

The machete came down with full force, instantly severing the man's hand from the rest of his arm. Blood sprayed about to the floor, and Jimmy roared decisively in pain. But what formed the even more grotesque sight -- was the severed hand on the floor. Snapping his fingers, the boys went to his bag, pulling out a fresh bag of ice, and then returned to Rodrigo, as he slowly picked up the bleeding hand from the ground. A satisfied grin on his lips, he tilted his head to the side, noticing the pricy ring on the finger of the body part. Shame, Jimmy, shame. "So I'm gonna let you go, Jimmy. In the meantime, I'm gonna put this little thing on ice, and borrow it until you get me my money. All of it -- and then I'll give it right back, okay, chico? Good boy." The blood pooled on the floor, and Jimmy continued to shout, wanting his severed hand back. But when Rodrigo did business, you can believe that business was done, one way or another. The men opened up the bag of ice, and Rodrigo subsequently dumped the bleeding mass right into the freezing bag, looking to preserve the body part.

The grin on his face never left, even through the agony of the man. "Oh, and one more thing Jimmy..." He stopped suddenly, returning back to him and adjusting his coat. "If you don't get my money, this hand right here -- that's not gonna be the only thing we collect. And if you tell anyone...you'll be dead inside of 72 hours."

Course, while their concern seemed to be about money, the meticulous scope of a sniper came into view. With the perfect aim. The perfect shot. The human remained, obscured from sight, away from any of the mobsters, waiting so calmly and patiently, that you could almost hear a pin drop within his vicinity. And while they were relatively unaware of what exactly was going on, Merovingian played the entire scene out from within his mind, looking to project down to this playing field. Trigger-finger antsy, but held a kind of calmness that could be expected. With that, a single bullet razing downfield. "What the..." Words cut short, a gasp of breath as the bullet seared through his body. Plated with silver, the incredible thermal heat, as well as the perfect shot through the heart, disintegrated the creature into nothing. The men were stunned, but weren't able to react fast enough, as another searing shot blasted right through the head of one of the larger men, dropping him down instantly. Now it was time for them to panic, wondering where the shots were coming from.

Perhaps he should've have been tracking down these Old Bloods, and instead, focused on the many other zombies that continued to plague these places. Two more men were instantly killed, and so, the shooting stopped. All the remaining men drew their guns, hoping to confront this foe face to face. Course, their fears were met precisely when a figure dropped down from the ceiling, seemingly too quick for their supernatural eyes to follow suit. Merovingian Pryce. The assassin of all assassins, so to speak. A glint in his eye,s followed by a surge of energy emanating from his body, jutting outward in a concussive, shockwave-like force that erupted through the crowd of men, knocking most of them against the wall and unconscious. All except for Rodrigo, of course. Peering down the Old Blood, Mero held the handgun over to his face, the calmness and the silence filling the air. "Info. Now." His tone was demanding, but fairly sullen and soft-spoken, but the man showed nothing but confusion. He was trying to weasel his way out of the situation he was placed in, but the relentless bounty hunter cocked his gun. To kill a possible lead wouldn't have been good at all, but a message needed to be made fast.

Boom. The trigger finger was mighty flighty.

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OPEN

[Ma'ali Dima Amari]

Ma'ali had been on one of her daily adventures around the grounds when she picked up voices. Titling her head, she slightly wondered if she should go get some help or if she should investigate. Of course the call for help flew out of her mind and she followed the voices. Normally Ma'ali was one the shy ones in the Coven and didn't speak to most unless she was being polite. She was wrapped in a black cloak that hide her face and body inside of it. She wore no shoes as usually because she was always faster on bare feet.

She moved towards the voices and then heard shots. Sighing to herself, she hoped she wasn't getting herself into another situation that involved guns and anything else that could potentially harm, but not kill her. Gun shots hurt like a bitch to her. The way the slug dug itself into the skin was agonizing. She stopped short however and jumped back a few feet. She had seen the man being decapitated and the blood smell was wafting its way into her nostrils. She twitched a bit and pushed down her deep hunger, so she could make sure she got out alive.

Peering out now, she saw the men all laying flat on out the ground and wondered just who was strong enough to lay that many men out. She slipped around and watched. A male has his gun turned on an Old Blood. She arched an eyebrow wondering just how old this Old Blood was because if it had been that easy to get a gun to them in a position like this, they had to be young. "Um...excuse me? Does anyone know where the bathroom is?"[/b] her voice was soft, almost child like but held a small note of feminine quality in it.

Ma'ali kept her hood up and the cloak and she lightly tilted her head so she appeared innocent."I just need some help...finding things. Can someone help me please?"[/b] she asked gently. Hopefully this would break the tension between everyone.