{SoC} Chaz Primo of Clan Brujah

My birth name is Christopher Charles Van Zant, at least that’s what the folks at Child Welfare told me. My earliest memory is waking up to the other kids in the orphanage crying and screaming because a thunderstorm had just blew in the window the old house that we lived in. One kid got cut pretty bad. I can remember the dark red stains on his bedsheets, and how fascinated I was seeing the blood drip from his arm, falling to the floor like small rubies. The other kids were in a panic, me, well I just stared.

I don’t remember much of my childhood, but I do remember the beatings I took when I said or did something the “Sisters” didn’t approve of. So a day after my 15th birthday, I took off, but not before I laid a beating on the old bitch that had a nasty tendency of singling me out and making a spectacle of it. “Now look at Christopher boys,see what blasphemy gets you?!” It felt good to push the old girl down the old concrete stairs.

I lived on the streets for a couple of months, stayin alive by snatching purses and lifting shit from street vendors. I got pretty tough during that time too, its amazing how much you learn after getting the shit kicked outta you a few times. You couldn’t show any fear out there, else you were dead. I seen it happen a few times. I guess that’s what Rake liked about me.

I was out looking for a score one night, I think it was October, I remember cause it was kinda cold. Anyways, I lifted a fat wad of cash from a hooker that heading for a meeting with her pimp I guess. Just my shitty luck that her pimp was right behind me when I grabbed the cash from the whore. That fucker musta chased me for an hour, he prolly would’ve got me If I hadn’t run around one corner and knocked over what must have been the ugliest gawd damn biker in historys Harley. Anyhow the biker was just starin at me right, real mean like. The pimp came around the corner and saw this dude who looked like he was gonna rip my head right off. I just stared right back at the biker. The pimp started to say something about the money I took, but this ugly biker just glanced up and shot that guy a stare. The pimp turned tail and ran like hell. I was damn near shittin my pants too, I mean this was one SCARY looking dude, but I never let it show. I said to him, “Damn man, you get smacked by a rake when you were a kid or what?” The biker and his gang laughed.

And that’s how it started. The biker kept the name Rake, or should I say his boys kept the name. And I became their runner. For 4 years I did legwork for these guys. Keeping track of their girls, and the money that was coming out of their bars, dropping of “packages” to people who owed em money. They started calling me Chaz, cause it just wasn’t right to be a Christopher Van Zant in a world with Rake as a father figure, whores as my mothers, and a buncha brothers named Crusher, Slash and Fingers.

In 4 years I never once even thought anything wasn’t normal, until the day, or night I should say, that I got my colors. They took me to a club I’d never been before, and taken into a back room to get “primed”. I was left alone with 3 ladies who Rake said would make me wish I was dead. After a while my head started swimming, I don’t know if it was the whiskey or the shit these gals were doin to me. Just when I thought I was gonna pass out from the pleasure, Rake busted open the door and said two words. It’s Time.

That’s all it was. I think I remember vaguely Rake goin on about a choice or being chosen, and me agreeing to it. I did kinda sober up when I saw him comin at me with them nasty fangs, but I passed it off as part of my high. And from there its blank. I don’t remember dying, I don’t remember none of it. I just wanted to sleep.

The next night Rake explained it all to me, my death, my rebirth, all of it. In one single night, I had transformed from a parentless streetkid, into a proud member of an ancient family with hundreds of brothers and sisters. I was not angry, how could I be? Rake took me to his sire, and from him I learned who I was and what it meant to be Brujah. I learned of the other clans and of Carthage, but I don’t hold any grudges. Shit,that crap went down like 2 billion years ago as far as I’m concerned. I don’t think the old man liked my attitude very much, but so what. Shit happens.

Anyways, Rake and I and the boys were pretty tight. We were the terror of the streets, nothing bad like, but everyone knew who we were. One night Rake and the others took off on some business they had to deal with, and I had my own to do else I woulda been with em. I don’t know what the hell happened, but they didn’t come back to the crib that morning. I’ve tried asking around, to see if anyone knows anything or heard of anything. But its all the same. No one knows nothing. One day I’ll find out what the hell went down, and when I do, hells to pay baby, hells to pay.

{SoC} Chaz