The wind rustled through Lyla's hair, bellowing it in the air around her. She began to stir just a bit, coming out of her unconscious state. Immediately, the smell of rotting flesh filling her nose at once. Nausea seized her stomach and she gagged, forcing her eyes open. What she saw made her scream: she was 20 stories above ground and quickly moving vertical. Panic seized her and she started to thrash, beating against the back of the black figure that held her.

[color=662d91]"Stop that, damn you."[/color] a harsh hiss lashed at her. The Wraith was scaling St. Paul's Cathedral with a single hand, hopping from ledge to ledge like an incredibly acrobatic mountaineer. Lyla didn't listen though. She kept shifting and smacking the mysterious being's back until she actually slipped through the Wraith's grip, free falling to the ground now. [color=662d91]"Fucking girl..."[/color] they cursed, latching a death grip onto a ledge before just barely swinging their free arm to seize the dhampir's foot. Lyla hung there, leering at the earth below her with wide eyes. A bit of fear and nausea induced vomit escaped her mouth and plummeted to the ground. If she survived this, she silently vowed to never go outside again.

They hung there like a barrel of monkeys. The Wraith's momentum was lost now and his back was against the wall, legs dangling freely. Their unseen eyes looked back and saw the form of Sir Craven gaining some ground. Strangely, Elizabeth had just skidded past him. Another presumably curious man followed them, yet there was something more the creature felt in the air around him... It was not panic. It was zeal. [i]Hatred.[/i] 

[color=662d91]"Malkavians..."[/color] the assassin seethed, narrowing in on the figure of Elizabeth. The Malkavians were on full alert now, no doubt. This was their territory after all. [i]She[/i] had done something, hadn't she? Not only would they have to deal with Thomas' pursuit, but also the mess the Guardian had caused. Oh, she was definitely going to get a scolding tonight. To make matters worse, the ledge the Wraith clang felt like it was about to snap under the pressure of their grip combined with their weight. They couldn't hold onto her for much longer. Either the assassin dropped the girl so they could escape, or they fell along with her. The choice was easy to make, needless to say.

[color=662d91]"Ah... So you kept up, my sweet Sir Craven. You've gotten so much better since I last saw you. I remember when you were but a whelp in our community. Even then, you were always a bit more skilled than your peers. And now you stand there, a Prelate just like I."[/color] the Wraith stated, laughing softly at the Prelate. [color=662d91]"Are you worthy of that title though, Craven? I have a test for you. It's simple, really: Save this girl before her entrails are splattered from here to the Tower of London. Can you live with yourself if you fail?"[/color] The jeering laughter of the Wraith grew louder as he tossed Lyla into the air, once again dropping to her doom.

While the assassin made his getaway, the poor girl watched as the concrete got closer and closer. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad though? She tried to close her eyes and embrace her fate, hoping the afterlife was better than what she had lived.

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