Shattered Pentacle

by Starscribe

Chapter 2

Akiko's tea shop was in ruins. Whoever had come through obviously worked deliberately, shattering and smashing as much as they could. Glass cases displaying loose-leaf tea in delicious varieties were shattered onto the ground, letting the leaves mix freely. The reading corner furniture was broken, with its shelves toppled sideways spilling the books everywhere.

She felt at one of the shelves as she approached, dodging around the piles of broken glass along the way. The shelves were solid oak, each one much heavier than Lyra's whole body. Support brackets were ripped right out of the wall, leaving jagged gaps where they should've attached.

Lyra flicked the safety off the strange stun-gun, advancing towards the kitchen. She found more destruction along the way—anything that could be easily broken was toppled, then deliberately crushed underfoot

Why would anyone care about Akiko's little business? No rival tea-shop owner would employ the undead for such a shallow, meaningless attack.

Lyra reached the back wall after a short time, her hand touching against flat cement. Strange—hadn't she been headed for the kitchen? She looked up, and found it was still open, the little swinging doors ripped off the hinges—but she wasn't there.

What? This time she fixed her attention on the broken door, and walked. Her hand met a broken shelf of little tea decorations, scorched along its edge.

Her mind spun, head throbbing with the impossibility. Lyra walked in a straight line, and ended up somewhere else. “Not... possible.” The gun faltered in her hand, and she glanced back for the exit. Maybe she would be better off if she tried to get away. She didn't belong here—she was obviously out of her league!

But Akiko might need her help! The two weren't best friends or anything, but they had been close since growing up. She couldn't just abandon Akiko to whatever these monsters wanted to do. She would be helpless against them—at least Lyra had experience. She could resist their powers.

I feel them now. She wasn't sure how she realized it—something switched, and suddenly everything was clear. Lyra had walked through this space a hundred times—helped Akiko mix up tea for morning, or chatted with her over an evening glass of chamomile.

What I see is a lie. It manipulates me. Lyra closed her eyes, then touched one hand against the wall again. The shelf of decorations meant she was only a few feet away from the kitchen door. She stepped to the left.

It was like walking uphill, impossibly steep. Her body rebelled against her, making every step into a fight. She pressed against something, a will that crushed her mind.

Others might yield—Lyra had felt a mind that was not her own compelling her to action a hundred times before. She leaned into it, refusing to retreat. Instead of making place for the alien mind, she replayed music in her head. Vivaldi’s “Summer” ought to do—the strings blazed, dueling each other as the ancient composer had written. His will left no room for another.

Her hand brushed against the doorframe, and still she moved. She walked over the broken door, kept going until she felt tile under her feet. Only then did Lyra open her eyes.

The odor hit her first, an oppressive stink that choked into her lungs and made her eyes sting.

There was little to break in here—a few teacups, the fridge toppled to one side. Most dramatically, both of Akiko's stoves were on, pouring gas into the room without a flame.

Lyra scampered over, switching both off. She reached the window and flung it open, then leaned out into the night to suck mouthfuls of mercifully clean air.

Her head swam with the awful stink of gas. For a few seconds it was all she could do to rest there, catching her breath. Until her head stopped pounding, and she could look back.

There should be nothing else here, just a few shelves of storage and a door into the alley. But she saw no bodies, no blood, no other signs of a struggle.

There's nothing here, I should leave.

Strangely, she found the thought wouldn't stick in her mind. She wanted to leave, yet—it wasn't Lyra who wanted her to leave. Something else did. It wanted her not to see what was plainly right in front of her.

In her knowing, there was sight. The plain concrete wall fuzzed and shimmered, then wasn't a wall anymore. A doorway appeared there, leading down with a set of narrow, perfectly ordered steps carved directly into the rock. Not a chance they were up to code, with such narrow gaps between each one. No toolmarks either, like someone had reached through the ground with a magical hand, scooping out one step at a time.

Another trick? Lyra touched her free hand up against the wall beside it, then pushed through. Her arm moved freely through where a wall had been, then through empty air. It was open.

Lyra deliberated for another moment, wondering whether she should pass through.

Then she heard something. Voices, one harsh and one desperate. One was Akiko's, and she was terrified.

Lyra checked the gun again, then stepped through the wall. It wasn't a wall, and her foot settled on solid rock. The second step was hard too, but by the third she was moving freely. Whatever strange pressure touched her mind, it faded quickly. The passage was dark, lit by a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Lyra crept forward slowly, taking each step as quietly as she could. The Kindred had exceptional senses—but if this one was gloating, it might not notice her approach. Long enough for the two of them to escape, if they were lucky.

She reached the door of the passage that shouldn’t be there. Some part of her still expected it to conform to familiar rules. Maybe there would be a storage room of secret, delicious tea. There was not.

The space inside looked like it might be the sitting room of a fine mansion. Its wood-paneled walls were covered with paintings, and lit by warm fixtures overhead that might be radiating pure sunlight.

The damage was no less severe than the shop above. Priceless metal objects, computers, and shelves of books were toppled and shattered, or crushed into impossible configurations. It hurt too much to look at them, as though the shapes themselves were somehow dangerous or confused. She didn't try, instead focusing on the heated conversation inside.

“You had to know this day would come. Your gods are false and fallen. My king sits atop his throne. You see the result.” The speaker was female, older, with a cruel edge to every word. She was certainly cruel enough to be one of Ventus's Kindred.

Lyra crept forward. She couldn't see the speaker yet, or her friend. Despite the modest size of the tea shop above, this building was huge, sprawling bigger than her home. Not Akiko's, her friend had a mansion. If anyone could afford to build something like this, it was probably her.

“You've made your point,” Akiko said. “You want the wheel—take it. Take it and go, you win.”

“Feel that weight on your shoulders. Feel it crushing down. So speaks dominion, pentacle. So speak the true masters, rightful monarchs of this world. You awakened only because they permitted it—because one day, you would offer something of value to the kingdom. No other reason.”

She’s lying. Lyra wasn’t sure where the words came from. They were thoughts, yet there was something strange about them too. Another mind spoke with truer words. Even now.

Her thoughts weren’t words exactly—they were an impression, absolute confidence in something that was true. Those words were music, like the melody that urged her forward through the ruins.

“I know who you... serve,” Akiko whispered. “They won’t make you a king. They’d make everyone slaves.”

Something shattered, then something else smacked into a wall with a meaty thud and a scream.

Lyra strangled a gasp, speeding up. She reached the corner seconds later, and peered around it.

Much of what she saw made no sense to her. A section of the building was left with a naked stone floor, surrounded by a ring of strange objects. A single case stood beside it, now shattered on the floor.

There were only two people here. One was Akiko, lying in a heap against the wall. Despite the awful sound of impact, she was only bleeding from a few places, and her leg twisted sharply the wrong direction. A little blood, but not the devastating injury that the impact produced.

Then there was the stranger—a woman with dark red hair with a few flakes of white along with thin, angular features.

What was a vampire supposed to wear? Maybe something like this—a crisply cut business suit, with flaring pants and heels. She carried no obvious weapons, or other signs of how she had inflicted such incredible harm to Akiko's shop. That could only mean one thing—the strength of her blood.

“You don't even know what this does.” The woman bent down, hefting something from the glass wreckage. It was metal, heavy enough that the woman strained visibly when she rose, adjusting her weight. “You will not miss it. You cannot even see it put to productive use—but I can.”

“Fine,” Akiko groaned, resting her back against the wall. “Go.”

“Not... quite,” said the stranger. “This offering is great. But your offering is not complete. If you will not swear to the Storm God’s name, then your soul will be an offering to him. Choose now.”

She won’t get to choose. Lyra knew that truth as confidently as anything she had seen. She needed no supernatural senses—this was something deeper. She’d known the kindred for years, learned the way they thought. They wanted to do more than just dominate—they wanted you to believe they owned you.

Akiko spoke again, a whisper of something that Lyra shouldn’t understand. It wasn’t a language she had ever heard—but she knew the words anyway. Someone had already written them on her soul.

“One lie darkens all shadow. Truth pierces all darkness.” Lyra whispered along to those words, like reciting an oath.

They guided her fingers, made her hands stop shaking. Her aim settled on target, one finger on the trigger. Then the gun started glowing. A motor whirred, and the barrel rotated, replaced with another tipped with faint blue light.

That was not the correct response—not from the woman’s feral growl, or the sudden energy that filled the room. Lights flickered overhead, then exploded in a shower of sparks.

Lyra had no idea what she was witnessing, but she didn’t stop to think. She knew what would happen to her friend if she just stood there and watched.

She pulled the trigger. A voice spoke from the weapon, faint and artificial. “Metahuman target identified. Suppression engaged.”

Lightning arced through the room, yanked down from cables running through the ceiling. It lashed out at Akiko, lying prone and helpless on the ground.

Lyra’s gun hissed and hummed, frost condensing on its tubes and wires. Smoke rose from the barrel. No bullets emerged, and the weapon didn’t so much as fidget in her fingers.

Then the woman screamed.

She spun in place, and the electricity arced away from Akiko, leaving deep black marks on the ground. Aiming for me.

Lyra had a split second to react—long enough. She dove back around the corner, just as energy splashed into the place she’d been, tearing up cement and wood in a shower of sparks and light.

There was no time left to wonder how this was happening, or what impossibility was trying to kill her. She knew no Kindred who wielded power like this—a mystery to solve another time.

“What manner of... is this? I’ll burn them to ashes! The King of all Storms rises and bellows with his rage!”

Lightning flashed from around the corner, so bright it would’ve blinded Lyra in an instant if she saw it. She didn’t, and it was gone almost as quickly. Then came the thunder, so loud it drove her to her knees.

She covered her ears with both hands, whimpering against the pain. The gun was still clutched in one, so she heard its simple electronic voice whispering in her ear.

“Cryogenic element at maximum entropy. Charge expended.” It hissed and sputtered, ejecting a little silver tank to the ground next to her. Smoke still rose from the metal, condensing to a thin layer of frost.

Then it was over. The light vanished, leaving only a handful of electric lights still glowing behind Lyra. She dropped the gun, then stumbled forward, ears ringing with thunder. She peered around the corner, balling one hand into a fist—but there was no monster there. Only her friend remained, a pale outline curled in a corner.

“Rarity, was that you?” her friend called, voice small but insistent. “Not sure what spell that was, but it worked perfectly. I think she electrocuted herself.”

Spell? Like the one that left a glowing, vibrant hole in the space where a woman had been standing. Like the lightning that scorched the rock all around it, turning it to shimmering glass.

That wasn’t a vampire.

Lyra bent down, removing something from where it sat abandoned in the molten glass. This object alone was unharmed, despite the terrible damage to either side.

About the size of a pocket watch, though like nothing she’d ever seen before. Thousands of wheels and gears moved within, turning and clicking and humming together according to some unknown and unknowable design. It settled into her fingers, so real that her eyes could focus even in near-darkness.

Compared to this strange object, her body was smoke and shadow. It ought to pass right through her, then down to the core of the planet beneath.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Each one shook her body, an unseen heartbeat. The sound transformed to distant thunder, rolling over the hillside. It brought rain with it, thick and rejuvenating. If only she could find it and walk out into the deluge, maybe she could wash away a little of her confusion. Maybe then the world would make sense. It called to her, from a source she couldn’t see.

Lyra walked towards it. She crossed the broken basement, the melted stone, and reached where her friend was only just sitting up.

A light glowed to life in Akiko’s hand, bright as a spotlight, but without a source. Light came from—nowhere, shining into her face.

Akiko gasped, expression turning horrified. “Lyra? How... how are you down here? Sleepers can’t...”

Lyra held out her hand, offering her the clock. “Do you hear the music, Akiko?”

“Do I...” She moaned, pressing her shirt against her chest to staunch the bleeding. She extended her other hand for the clock, the one that glowed. “You saved my life.”

Even without the clock in her fingers, Lyra felt the distant storm. It raged over a familiar home, compelling her forward. “I’ll be back. Someone is waiting for me.”

She turned away, and followed the roar out of Akiko’s secret basement.

Comments

[monkeymaster1992]

Great story as always Starscribe. Barely started and already can't wait for next chapther. How do you do it? Anyways i wish you happy holidays and that you may continue to write many geat stories

[Rainbow Sparkle]

This sounds very, very interesting. Bookmarking~!

[Numinos]

Well, that's a start, all righty...

I feel it's wrong way to do it, but I think by now I absorbed enough WoD lore just from pony fanfics : )

[Luminous Lead]

A voice spoke from the weapon, faint and artificial. “Metahuman target identified. Suppression engaged.”

That gives me Psycho-Pass vibes in addition to Vampire the Masquerade. Nice!