Lachine Canal

Physical Read

A fourteen-kilometer industrial canal running from the Old Port southwest to Lac Saint-Louis. The locks have been closed for decades. The water turns black and still.
The banks are lined with abandoned factories, shuttered rail yards, and the remnants of Montreal’s industrial spine. Brick buildings with broken windows. Loading docks that face the water. Chain-link fences with holes cut by people who needed to get through and didn’t have keys. Little Burgundy’s housing projects press against the canal’s north bank near Atwater — the Sabbat Embrace dying children from these alleyways and let the frenzied beasts feast on their families.
Homeless camps under the overpasses and in the derelict factory shells. Small fires in oil drums. The smell of kerosene and wet wool. These are the feeding grounds — people who won’t be missed, who won’t report, who have learned not to scream at things that happen after dark.

Primary feeding grounds for the coterie and multiple Sabbat packs. Where the desperate gather and the Sabbat hunt.
The canal corridor provides cover for movement between the east-end industrial sites and the downtown core.
A place where bodies of water meet bodies of the dead. Disposal is convenient. Discovery is a matter of time.

Contested. Multiple packs claim sections of the canal for feeding rights. The boundaries are enforced through violence and rotate with the power balance.
No single authority polices the corridor. Pack leaders negotiate informally, and when negotiation fails, the stronger pack takes what it wants.
The mortal population along the canal has no advocate. They are resources, not residents.