By Kevin Davies (mizake@mizan.demon.co.uk)
Into this world came the Children of the Bitter Dark, a bloodline twisted by some unknown torment. They came in the darkest night, running among the common folk and gully Kindred with a thirst for blood that had not been seen outside that of the most insane Malkavian. Their cruelty seemed unnatural, even to the darkest-hearted Malkavian, and the havoc they wrought across Europe drove the mortals into riots of terror and superstition.
"The crown is mine by right, this I know and this I shall swear. But that matters little to me. All I wish to know, all I wish to gain from the conquest, is this: is that realm free of the curse of blood that infests our kingdom? If so, then this war will continue."
The pestilence began in the winter of 966 AD, in the far east of Europe. The city of Warsaw was invaded by a horde of vampires such as none had seen before: creatures of such exquisite cruelty that the Tzimisce of that city were astounded by their power. The town was soon overwhelmed and its rulers executed in such a sadistic manner that the Tzimisce clan heads immediately issued a blood hunt against those who had perpetrated it. The city, however, stood firm against such an incursion, the Children within fighting back with incredible fury. Other cities soon fell to the Children of the Bitter Dark, and it was not long before the Inconnu began to wonder from where these strange Kindred had come.
Monitors were sent out to investigate this bizarre bloodline, whose warriors were said to become one with the dark like the Lasombra, overwhelm their opponents and cause agony like none before. The only conclusion these agents could reach was that the Children were a hitherto unknown bloodline, possibly of Lasombra or Setite origin, and that their numbers were far greater than any other bloodline so far encountered. To defeat them, the Monitors said, would be an arduous task.
"The Inconnu have sent out countless agents to discover whence these Children of the Bitter Dark Come. We have needed none of them. I can say myself whence they come: from Hell itself."
The Children of the Bitter Dark, or Blitters, as they came to be known, causes untold torment throughout the lands of Eastern Europe before turning their attention to the west. Many of the Duchies of Normandy fell before them and their terror spread through the land for decades before any new information was found to aid in their destruction.
In 1078 AD, a lone Blitter named Kestigyen was captured by Lasombra Monitors in the north of Spain. He fought furiously, destroying seven warriors before his capture, and was only imprisoned through the actions of a skilled Thaumaturgist. Through this Blitter, the Inconnu learned much of the intentions and powers of the Children of the Bitter Dark.
"You can twist me and burn me all you like. I will still stand straight and shit in your graves when this time is over. We are not the same as you pathetic infants. We are like the hydra -- cut off our head, and another three will grow in its place. You will never destroy us, for we come from the darkness you left behind."
The Inconnu learned much of the Blitters' weaknesses, and fed this infomation to the Ventrue and Lasombra rulers of Western Europe. Armed with this, a second Blood Hunt was called against the Children who had driven much of Europe into disarray. This time, the Blitters lost the battle, and those who were not destroyed or captured withdrew into the darkness from which they had come.
Under questioning, the Blitters who had been captured revealed little about their bloodline. Indeed, few of them seemed to know much about their history. They were singularly resistant to torture, and what little secrets they revealed seemed intended to simply tantalise their captors. All that was revealed was that the Blitters had come from the steppes of Russia some three hundred years earlier, and had been reborn with a bitter hatred for all unlife and life alike. Their entire philosophy seemed to revolve around the seizure of what they felt was theirs by right -- the lives of those around them. Murder was raised to an art form within their order, deception to a virtue. Bitterness was at the core of their being, bitterness for the life taken from them and the life they desired to recapture. They came from the dark and forced others into it on their behalf.
Those Blitters captured were destroyed, but others have since raised their heads. It is believed there are few remaining, but those who appear seem vaguely amused with the notion of their virtual extinction. Few things are certain; that the Blitters are a dangerous and insidious force in the World of Darkness is one absolute.
Gangrel: Creatures who pretend they are wild while running with the worms which infest the cities. We'll show them the meaning of the Beast.
Malkavian: Shut them up before they say something dangerous.
Nosferatu: Twisted in body, but they have learned to sublimate their rage and bitterness. Foolish. It leaves them defenceless.
Toreador: The only thing a Toreador is good for is a bonfire.
Tremere: These Warlocks are on their way to discovering something powerful. Don't let them get there before us.
Ventrue: Fat, worthless, powerless and weak. Show them the futility of their achievements before you tear them apart.
Caitiff: Dead flesh waiting to be torn apart.
Assamites: Dangerous and deceptive, but otherwise worthless. Cull them.
Giovanni: We will bring their petty games to an end, and make them watch all their dreams go up in flames. Ha.
Ravnos: Pathetic.
Salubri: The only good thing the Tremere ever did was bring down this excuse for a Clan. If you find any survivors, show them all the mercy they once showed us.
Followers of Set: Some say these silver-tongued snakes were the ones who gave us birth. Let us prove their idiocy by wiping them from the face of this earth.
Lasombra: It's hilarious to see how these idiots still think they're in control of things. Well, let them count on our help, and let them indulge their fantasies a little longer before bringing it all down on their heads.
Tzimisce: Say nothing of the Tzimisce. Say nothing to the Tzimisce. Stay away from the Tzimisce.
Lupines: Oh sure, they'll save the world from the Apocalypse. And then we'll jump out from behind a curtain and say 'Boo! We're back!'
Mages: Too mad to work with, too dangerous to ignore. The best thing to do is just kill them.
Wraiths: Dead things. That's the way we like them.
Changelings: Suffer the little children. That's just the way things are, or, failing that, the way we'll make them.
2) They hate humans, vampires, werewolves and virtually everyone else equally.
3) They are frightened of their own reflections.
4) That's all you're getting from me.
The Camarilla and Inconnu know virtually nothing about the Children of the Bitter Dark; evidently Kestigyen felt that the secret of their vulnerability was of far less importance than that of their origins. To this date, no captured Blitter has revealed more than is already known. Interrogation and torture has little effect on them; attempts at persuasion even less so.
The very existence of the Blitters is unknown to virtually all Kindred Embraced after the sixteenth century; even to older Kindred, their existence is not common knowledge. Among the Inconnu the possibility of another Blitter insurgence is a source of constant dread.
"Think, my children, of the years to come, the years of darkness that will come before and after Gehenna. The days when your fathers and mothers will rise from the earth and devour you out of bloody-minded rage. Oh, happy days! A world cleansed of the petty writhings of your most amusing organ. So . . . the long-dead will walk the earth, in the traditions of the mortals' much-welcomed Judgement Day. And, of course, great Lord Caine will rise from his last resting place and look down upon us all, and say 'This world is much filthier than when I left it; clean it all up, my children. So the Antediluvians will devour you all, and scrape the filth from the world, throwing it into the dark void. But Caine will still not be satisfied, and so he will devour the Antediluvians, casting them into the same place that they cast all of you. Where your much-loved Lilith fits into all of this, I am not sure, but that doesn't matter, anyway. Lilith is a temporary fixture at best, so we will leave her out of this idle passion play. "So, to summarise: the world will be cleansed of all its filth and grime through the will of Caine. But even then, it will still not quite be perfect. There is still some infection to spoil its purity. So Caine will devour himself, and his last thought will be: 'Now it is done.' And then there will be stillness, and time will begin seriously to pass. "I don't believe any of you have prepared for all this. I don't believe any of you have a place to hide from the cleansing of the earth. And that is why I laugh. Because, in all my bitterness, in all my hatred of everything that walks upon this planet, one fact remains: I have found my hiding place. I, and all my brothers. So, I laugh, and I look out at all of you, and I laugh again. I will laugh as much as my dead heart pleases. Even as you burn me at the stake, I will laugh, because I know that for all your fighting you have embraced your own destruction. No matter what you do to my bloodline, we will still have our hiding place, and we will all be there laughing at your memory.
"So, if you like, think of that as you see me burning. Think, and muse, and wonder, and all the while feel the seconds counting away to the final Judgement. All you can do is hope that Suspiria takes a liking to you. Welcome to the truth, my little angel; welcome to nothingness."