Funkmachine’s art.

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    “Ok you said vampire hunting, you said casual wear, so why are to wearing that?”
    “I said night clubs that mean we have to get inside, And do so with out question, so put your gun back in the van and try to look like you can stand this crap that passes for music.”


    Wolf Master

    Nice, i especially like the long gloves, the boot piece works well on them.



    Emilie was sweaty as she crossed the dance floor, still she had her target in site, she just hoped that Dominic was still following her…

    “So your the hunter! what was your plan? a stake in my heart? some garlic? holy water?
    well it doesn’t matter any more, i’ll drain you as soon as i finish of this.”
    He was a large man and heavily muscled, easily a good 200 pounds heaver than her and a suckling vampire to boot.
    That meant that he was young, a few month old at most, that meant that he hadn’t gained any real power yet, still he’ll be fantastically strong…

    Well that the final version of Emilie the vampire hunters top, i think i’ll post it up in the Custom Items Archive once i clean it up a little.



    Emilie had been right, this was crap music and he was dressed all wrong he stood out like a thumb.

    The red haired dancer opposite him smiled as to say hello hansom, as she stepped closer.

    She did open her mouth and try to introduce her self but the god awful drone obscured it.
    There was a jolt from his pager, Emilie had found the target.
    Pushing pass the lady he reached inside his jacket fingering the cold steel of the large framed colt.

    Holding his pistol close to his chest, he open the storeroom door.
    With the crack of thunder his pistol blazed as he opened fire.

    Gun fire echoed in Emilie’s ears as she watched the vampire staggered back under Dominic’s assault, sliver bullets punching deep in vampiric flesh.

    Like cobra she leapt at the vampire, driving both feet in to the monsters belly.

    Blood trickled from the vampires mouth as he fired wildly back at Dominic.

    Rolling back  Emilie sprang  to the balls of her feet as the vampires gun ran dry.

    Dominic swore as he slammed a new magazine in to his pistol.

    Emilie arose, ever muscle tense as she  whipped her leg straight up, caching the monster throat with her boot as his head smashed in to the concentrate ceiling.

    “One dead  maggot of a vampire, now do you want to do the honours dom?”

    Emilie stopped mid sentence as she court sight of Dominic clutching his side as blood tricked down his shirt.

    “Oh Frell…”




    Dom can’t hear hear her.



    Dam i forgot the ears.

    No new art this time,  i just found that i never posted this in my own thread.

    It was still there, the thing in the closet, banging contently banging trying to get out, Sam feared what was in the closet.

    It was there but then it wasn’t like a fever dream.

    There was a crash in the darkness as it broke out, free from somewhere.

    Sam reached for the lights as an all mighty bang and flash filled the room.
    A pair eyes flashed in the darkness like a cats, but with a blood red tinge.

    There was a clank as Sam switch on the light.

    “Do not move! That gate way has only just begun to open!” shout the woman as a pair of ivory fangs flashed from her ruby lips.



    Dominic was numb and warm, it had been a week now he’ll lain in the hospital bed.

    “I’m here a week now… waiting for a new mission… getting softer.
    Every minute  I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute there out on the streets drinking, Getting stronger.
    Each time I look around the walls moved in a little tighter, getting closer.”
    There was a knock at the door, the nurse entered, he been here far to long, the nurses where starting to look better and better.

    It was a week later when Dominic was finally discharged.

    “.. What we know about vampires is pretty vague, reading Dracula is probably the most informative thing i can think of.
    But it’s not like vampires are a modern thing, Julius Caesar declared all the “monstra nocte” or monsters of the night to be “Hostis humani generis”, enemy’s of the human race during his dictatorship.

    When some one becomes a vampire they change, and change a Lot, there fingernails turn in to black talons like claws, leathery wing sprout from there back.
    You go a good look at the last one, his was about four month old, while his mouth was an inhuman fanged maw, the rest of him was changing back to a more human form.”

    “So what about the turning in mist and no reflection, do that happen?”
    “Well some of them can be shocking fast and most of them are inhumanly strong, but no i’ve never see any real supernatural power or anything like that.”

    “Right now i need you to forget that not an american, my evil sister Lillian has some supplys for the both of us …”

    “Well that you shorted out sis, Now what about you mister tall, dark and hansom…”



    and now the exports working again, i can post the full body view.








    Very nice character and scene.

    Ciao from Italy





    “Thanks for lending me your coat sis, mine still at the dry cleaners.” Emilie shouldered the shotgun as she spoke.
    “It’s yours, keep it, i know how much “government” work pays.” Lillian smiled as she shrugged slightly.

    “Well your right there, it does pay less than what you on.
    But there loads of crap you have to put up with as freelance assassin, having to launderer all your money, the 12 hour flights but the worse of it was meeting the clients.
    I think it was Spain, that was the one, that made me think again about being freelance.
    Three weeks of haveing to get dressed up in those black leather catsuits and wear those stupid heels, and for what to stand around and guard that fool while he watched the bullfights.
    The money just wasn’t worth, so say what you like but “government” work pays the bills.”

    “Well i can’t argue with that, still being able to kill whoever i want helps with the stress, really you should try some time.
    Now are we going after this vampire or should it put the kettle on?”  With a sincere tone to her voice Lillian collected her submachinegun.



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