Anka

Anka turned 10 years old in 1910, at the end of the new Mexican Golden Age. Thirty-four years of economic growth came to an end as one rebellion followed another. As always, the peasants suffered. And as always, they found ways to survive. Anka’s mother made a coarse living for her family by whoring for a gang of banditos.

They lived on a small compound the outlaws used as a staging point for raids. The men of the compound saw hints of Anka’s future beauty and teased her or fawned over her. When her mother saw this behavior, she beat Anka — not to keep her from following in her own footsteps, but from jealousy of her daughter’s youth and beauty.

During a drunken Cinco de Mayo celebration in 1914, Anka’s life changed. Around midnight, Rego, the closest thing that the banditos had to a leader, took Anka to his room “to make a woman of her.” Anka’s mother burst in a few minutes later. Screaming, she grabbed her half-naked daughter by the CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT 36 hair and dragged her into the road, kicking her as they went.

For the first time — and to the absolute delight of the gawking banditos — Anka fought back against her mother. She managed to grab up a clay jug and use it to beat the older woman to the ground. Anka literally kicked her mother until the older woman was off the premises, then promised to kill her if she ever came back. That was the last Anka ever saw of her mother.

The closest thing to a display of affection that Anka had ever known was the pawing of dirty, callused hands, so she took to prostitution easily. To the bitter disappointment of the other men, she spent most of her time with Rego — unless she needed something from one of them.

Eventually, her bedroom advice grew to guide Rego’s decisions and slowly she acquired influence in the compound through him. Several of the banditos muttered angrily that no puta had the right to tell them what to do, but none of them dared challenge Rego — at least not to his face. Two years after Anka’s “rise to power,” the other banditos killed Rego.

Even as he lay in the dust, tugging at the pitchfork in his throat, his assailants turned their attention to Anka. They beat her and raped her repeatedly. She was informed that her position within the compound had changed; after many hours they left her semi-conscious on the floor. At four o’clock that morning, Anka set fire to the bunkhouse.

Strong hands pounded the door, but a carefully placed wagon kept it from opening. The men’s curses turned to pleading, then screams, which finally stopped when the blazing ceiling caved in. Once the searing heat subsided, Anka counted the bodies in the rubble then fell to the ground as if dead. When Anka awoke again, it was night.

By the light of the moon, she saw that her head rested in the lap of an Indian woman. The woman stroked her hair and laughed and chattered, apparently to herself. Oddly, Anka was not afraid of the woman or concerned about the charred bodies nearby. She felt detached and calm, like she did when she drank just the right amount of tequila. The woman’s name was Yalonda.

She said that she was proud of Anka’s actions, and that she had watched her over the years in hopes that Anka might reach this point. Yalonda kissed Anka’s cheek and neck, a cold affection unlike Rego’s passionate, if selfish, motions. Anka felt no pain, but she was soon overwhelmed and swooned from the woman’s Embrace. Anka acclimated to the unlife of a Ravnos antitribu very quickly.

Her damnation troubled her little. Her mother had assured her from earliest childhood that an unchristened bastard-child like herself would certainly burn in Hell, so she had accepted that fate long ago. With this damnation, however, came power. For that she was grateful. As a mere child plying sexual wiles, she’d done well.

With the supernatural ability to confuse and control minds, she saw no limits to her potential. For years, Anka used her Cainite gifts to collect estates. She cajoled elderly rich men into disowning their heirs and making her their beneficiary. The owners usually died shortly thereafter.

Once she took possession of a property, she would abandon the place, letting it fall into ruin, and move on to new conquests. Despite owning these fine estates, once she learned to meld with the earth she slept in the desert — a quirk that saved her from Final Death. In 1961, all of Anka’s homes burned to the ground during a single day. Anka went berserk with rage when she awoke the next night.

She didn’t care about the houses themselves, but someone was striking at her and that could not go unpunished. It took her many months to find out what had happened: Apparently, one of her estate acquisitions damaged the business dealings of a certain well-heeled Lasombra. His reaction had been intended to destroy her. This news made Anka smile just a little.

The humans she manipulated no longer offered her a challenge. She had grown restless without realizing it. It was time to spread her wings, and sparring with a vastly more powerful vampire appealed to her. Anka spent a decade gathering a small pack of Mexican Sabbat and training them to suit her needs. The pack now resides in Mexico City.

Here, slums filled with the most wretched kine imaginable surround skyscrapers that house fabulous wealth. Hundreds of vampires subsist on more than 20 million vessels. Here, it is impossible to find a savvy vampire who does not wish to be found. Anka relishes the game she plays with her unknowing Lasombra rival. Once a year, her pack infiltrates one of his critical business concerns.

They study its weaknesses and plan an attack. They then burn, break or murder until they are satisfied, and then they slink back to the slums to feast on the destitute. The Lasombra fop has no idea of his torturer’s identify. Eventually, either he will discover Anka and kill her, or she will grow bored, decide the game is won and move on to another.