Viktor Minshol deceased

This is a letter that was written by Viktor in early May:

There was once a vampire; he was Viktor Gregori Minshol. He was briefly the Sheriff of New Orleans. That was short lived, however, as he has become shamed. A few mistakes were made; The Prince, Red, made the mistake of sending a Toreador with a Malkavian to accomplish something that only required one or the other. Failing to trust her Sheriff, the Prince sent him with an unnecessary non-combatant to deal with the reporting of a possible breach of the masquerade. Rather than bribe the editor like he wanted, the Toreador attempted to talk her way through the situation, which got security called. Not wanting to kill mortals who were unaware of what they were dealing with, the Sheriff chose what he saw as the lesser of two evils; he was shot repeatedly and fell torpid (Not really a breach if you consider that with enough PCP a man could ignore being shot upwards of six times; that and for all that those cops knew Viktor was wearing body armor underneath his shirt). Waking up two weeks later to find that he is not only no longer the Sheriff, but also declared an unreleased childer of the Keeper. But the greatest shame that Viktor felt was being stripped of his rifle by a vampire whose only real strength lie in who his sire was and not his age or clan.

I am Viktor Minshol and I will have experienced my final death by the time that anyone reads this.

-Section blacked out with scorch marks-

Frank,

I know that it has been a while, but I have screwed up royally. I can not live with my shame; my rifle is in the glass case in Kingsley's living room, please get it back and bury it with me.