We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police.
-Jeff Marder

You really want to know my story, huh? That's really touching. I feel so important now. Of course, it's tempting now not to tell it just to leave you hanging but hey.. I'm a nice guy and would never do anything like that. So, here goes

I was born and bred right here in wonderful New Orleans. The bad part of town, but that's really no surprise considering that's where the Araņas hang. But I always do everything up right just to top everyone else so I grew up in the worst of the worst. One of those neighborhoods you just want to go and torch to cleanse the city. Lucky for them though, they had me and that was a nice bright shining spot for them. Really. They loved me there.

Seriously though, although I don't believe in being serious often or about much since it just tends to make life harder, my parents were there but not there, if you know what I mean. I don't know for sure what they spent the bulk of their time doing, though I'm sure I could make an educated guess. Especially considering the state they'd each be in on the rare times I actually saw them. I was luckier than most kids in those kinds of situations, though. I had this terrific older sister, Jonna. She was four years older than me and even in my earliest memories she's the one that took care of me. There's not a meal I ate that I don't remember her either cooking or scraping up the money to go out and buy. She did everything for me. And when she got old enough, she went out and got a job to help get us by. Didn't tell the folks, though. They'd just want her to fork it over. Eventually she ended up with another job as well, with some babysitting on the side. She was forced to stop going to school to do all of this, though she made sure I went. And man, did she make me study.

Anyway, with her bringing money in and all we got it a little better, though it still wasn't great. When Jonna stopped being around so much, that's when I'm afraid I started getting a little more out of hand. Never around her, mind you. I loved and respected her too much for that. But when she was at work or whatever, I was usually out causing trouble. I found a lot of fun in vandalism, actually. But not your usual dull graffiti painting shit. No, that's not for me. I was always kind of a hyper kid and that wouldn't satisfy. I liked trashing things. Cars, windows, you name it. Started with rocks then wanted to get more creative. Cherry bombs and all that. Until I learned more about that kind of thing and got even more creative. I won't go too much into that, it gets too technical for minds that just aren't.. uh.. technical? Or something. No offense intended, of course. I'd never try to offend you. I'm digressing again, aren't I? I tend to do that. My mind likes to go all over the place. Always thinking, you know. I met up with the Araņas during this time and it seemed like a good group of people to join up with, so I did. Besides, they had lots of ways for me to express myself with my "art." They nicknamed me Sabotage. Paco said there was more than one reason, but I can't fathom what the other or others might possibly be.

Well, it was three years ago when I was 15 that things really went down the big shitter. My sister got attacked one night as she was coming home from work. Three guys jumped her and dragged her off into the bushes and raped her. For some time, in fact. I'm sure that since it was so public there were people who heard and knew what was going on, but overall people, especially in that neighborhood, are cold and don't want to get involved. She came in about three that morning and she looked awful. We called the cops and about five hours later they even condescended to come see what was up. You just have to love the justice system, don't you? They took her story, but said that they didn't think there was much they could do. She'd already cleaned up and they bitched at her for that. What was she supposed to do for that five hours? She had descriptions of the guys that did it, knew one of them. Guess what came of it! Absolutely nothing. Shocking, I know. But the cops don't exactly care much what happens to the lower echelon of society.

Jonna tried to get along for a little while. What happened hit her really hard and I could tell even though she really tried not to let it show. She started acting less and less like herself. After the first couple of days she came out of her room but she just couldn't bring herself to leave the house. She wanted to go to work so she could make sure we ate, but everytime she went near the door she just couldn't do it. I understood and told her to take her time. Hell, I was old enough to get a job.. or well.. not actually work, that would be wrong. But I could get money one way or another. But she really freaked when I tried to leave the house. So I knew I was going to have to stay there for her. I thought that was enough, just being there. But I guess it wasn't. What happened hit her too hard and I was too inadequate to help her get through it. One week to the day after it happened, she killed herself. I walked into her room in the middle of the day after not hearing from her and she was dead. I guess sometimes people just can't deal with things. And that's one thing I know it's hard to deal with. But, even though I couldn't do anything for her while she was alive, there was something I could do for her after she died. So I packed up all of my things and left. I didn't bother to tell my parents, it's not like they would have noticed or cared anyway. And I set up full time with Las Araņas. And then... I went hunting.

It was easier since I knew who one of the guys was and from that it was easy to figure out who the other two were. I went after the one I knew first. It's amazing what can happen when a car that's wired to blow has its engine turned on. My only regret is that he didn't really feel anything. The next guy I hit the next day. He lived a little longer, though his legs went one way and he went the other. But at least I got to go over and say goodbye to him before he died. Then it was time for the third. Sadly, he must have had a grey cell or two left in his head because he started avoiding his car and his apartment. I think it was very rude of him to make it so hard on me. I got one shot at him, lobbed a cherry bomb at him. But sadly, I'm not so good at that kind of fighting. It broke a window near him and he got cut up pretty bad by the glass, but nothing near what I wanted. Next I found out, he'd left town. I had no idea where. Hmm, now that I'm a Greater Vampire, maybe I can find the asshole. That's something, thanks for asking for my story.

Well, I stuck with the Araņas and I'm still there. Even got turned into a vampire so I could have a better way of helping out. Since then I've pissed off somebody pretty powerful. I don't know why he could possibly not like me, I'm a nice enough guy. Go figure the taste of some people. I plan on sticking with the fight and doing what I can to help out. Nice that because of a vampiric power I can't be surprised at all. Not so easy to catch me that way. I like not being caught, it leaves me some much needed and deserved freedom. We'll get this whole thing fixed up though, and hopefully get the world back to a more acceptable way again. But of course, with me on the side fighting against that shit, how can we help but win?

Wit makes its own welcome, and levels all distinctions. No dignity, no learning, no force of character, can make any stand against good wit.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

One very important ingredient of success is a good, wide-awake, persistent, tireless enemy.
-Frank B. Shutts