Sarah, I'm sorry You'll become one of us Hunger We contained it Hunger She worships the crone, but is not of our ways Gabriel you son of a bitch! Yes Sire I understand Hunger She is coming for us Giant spider, chasing me, got to use He shall show us Her way As Winter turns to Spring Hunger Pow, right in the kisser, well, biter The sentence is Final Death Hunger The wolves are coming In nomine Matres As Fall turns to Winter I need you to find me a book The Fires will show you your soul Hunger It wasn't supposed to be this way

David opened his eyes the fog of sleep clinging to his mind. He struggled to arrange his thoughts, his memories, trying to distinguish between the kaleidescope with a blur effect attacking his thoughts.
When you find yourself lost in the woods, the first thing you must do is Sit Down.

David sat, and structured his thoughts. I am David, David Silver. I am a vampire, a devout servant of the Crone. From there his thoughts flowed out, his history hesitatntly, and with many holes and starts filled itself out, his sire, Paresh Williams, his quest to Oregon, his loss of Foolishness. The arrival of Straiphen, his Childe Sarah, her death. The journal. Sleep. He felt around in the darkness, finding the journal.
He felt around for the lightswitch, and joyfully, the lightbulb still worked. David read of his exploits, of his thoughts, and Paresh's contributions, and how little sense the book made. It referenced things that David did not remember, and suggested skills David did not remember having. But one thing was clear, he must find out if Straiphen was still prince, and if so, was he still operating without the protection of the law.
Turning off the light, tucking the journal back into small safe, David stepped outside for the first time since the 70s. The false wall slid away, and he walked into the alley of Sacramento.