Act Two Chapter Eight - Disintegration

Rebecca said a brief farewell to her new hosts and headed back towards downtown Blacksburg. She did not know what to expect. All she knew was that she was to be the bait. How Michael or Solomon would know when she’d been taken or where to find her when that happened, she did not know. But Michael had seemed confident that this plan would work, so she trusted his instincts and continued on her way.

At this late hour, there was very little activity in Blacksburg. The bars had done their last calls and were closed down for the night. Only the 7-11s seemed open. Rebecca passed the one at the corner of Tom’s Creek and University City and turned towards town.

It was then that she heard gunfire. Indistinct and distant, but obviously the discharge of a weapon or several weapons. Another report and then silence. She looked about, fear growing in her mind. But there was nothing; Only the clerk at the 7-11 stepping outside briefly to wonder at what he’d just heard.

Rebecca quickened her pace. The quiet remained. No sound. No guns, no cars, no people even. Just the silence of the night. A single car drove past after a few minutes, but no more sign of anyone as she continued her journey. The car pulled off and parked into a nearby driveway. Its driver emerged, followed by two others.

Rebecca slowed her pace, wary of these new arrivals. The latter two headed around the house, as if going toward the back yard. That struck her as odd. She stopped. The driver began to move towards her.

“Awfully late to be walking alone.” he said as he approached.

“Not by choice.” She replied, trying to sound angry. “Damn boyfriend.”

“Yes,” said the driver, almost knowingly. “you could say that.”

Rebecca was taken aback by that odd reply. The driver stepped into the glow of a street light, and she gasped. His skin was dark as coal.

“So,” she said, trying to fight down her fear. “You’re him. The one I’ve heard of. The Djinn.”

“Yes, that is what they call me.”

“I suppose I should have known you’d find me sooner or later.”

“No one escapes me. You have a date with the Prince of this territory. He is very eager to meet you.”

“I’ve been very eager to meet you.” Rebecca said coyly.

“Your sire’s game is over, girl.” Said the Djinn coldly. “You may as well stop playing before you embarrass yourself further.”

Those words sent a chill through Rebecca. She turned to run. “Stop!” The Djinn’s command stopped her cold. He moved beside her.

“Don’t bother.” He continued. “I already said none escape me. Where will you go? The ones that made you what are now are already in my power. Who else? The mortals you once knew will fear and destroy you for what you’ve become, assuming they believe any of the wild story you’ll tell them.”

“Better to take a chance with them than with you.” She tried again to run, but this time, he was close enough to grab her. His grip was like iron. She spun about, trying to fight, slashing at his face with her fingernails, anything to get away.

The Djinn slammed the stake in his off hand into her chest. The pain was brief and then Rebecca too felt her limbs stiffen in paralysis. “I’m the better odds.” Said the Djinn, carrying her back to the car.

---

"Did you hear that?" said Boar.

"Gunfire." replied Mitch. They stared at each other silently for a few seconds. "Not good news."

"Probably not." said Boar. He shot to his feet and went to the door. He quickly worked the bolt shut. "Better safe than sorry."

"Also our only way out."

"Balcony." said Boar. "It's not a long jump. But let's hope we don't need it." He returned to his seat, still pensive.

"Rebecca? Michael?" asked Mitch. "What about them?"

"What do you suggest we do?" shrugged Boar.

"And Deborah?"

At the sound of her name, the blood stirred in both of them. Bound as they were to her, both men were left disquieted by the thought that their master and lover might be caught up in this as well. "The weapons cache at her apartment." said Boar. "We could arm ourselves. Fight off whomever..."

Boar never finished his sentence. A loud pounding at the door interrupted him.

"Go!" barked Mitch, and he nearly launched from his seat towards the balcony door. As if anticipating his action, the door flew open, the set dead-bolt splintering apart the cheap wood. The door knocked Boar to the floor.

Boar reacted sluggishly, barely coming to his feet as two men in black stormed into the apartment. The leader was bearing a club and took a swing. Boar ducked and took a swing of his own, landing a solid punch in the thug's midsection. Mitch made the balcony and made the jump.

Stunned, the first thug staggered against the wall. The second shoved past him and made a grab for Boar, but missed as Boar made a dash for the balcony himself. He reached the edge and vaulted over the railing, dropping down ten feet or so onto the lawn below.

The impact was jarring, but adrenaline had kicked in by now. Boar could just barely make out Mitch some yards ahead in the twilight cast from the apartment. He took off after him, the shouts of the thugs behind him.

----

Mitch ran and ran. Startled and shaken by the sudden arrival of Mathias' thugs, he never looked back, presuming all along that Boar was behind him. And Boar had been until Mitch took a quick short cut across the elementary school towards Main Street.

Downtown was quiet and empty at this late hour. Mitch noticed that Boar was no longer with him and cast about, looking and listening for his friend in the quiet of the night. The only person he spotted was the second thug to barge into the apartment. He was near the Taco Bell, maybe a full block behind Mitch.

Mitch knew he had but a few seconds before the thug spotted him. He bolted, heading further into downtown. His dash alerted his pursuer, who started after him. Mitch heard the report of a pistol and felt the bullets whiz past him, far too close for comfort.

In absolute panic, Mitch tripped on the curb as he attempted to cross the street at College Ave. He stumbled and fell, closing his eyes in expectation that his opponent would not miss this opportunity.

He expected the “life flashing before his eyes” cliché to occur. That was not what happened. As he closed his eyes to the world around him, his mind reeled with images from a place unknown. It was not merely his own life that he saw, but all lives, from the first moment of time to the collapse of the universe. All interconnected, all bound by the once-invisible threads of fate and destiny. He understood now. He understood everything. The universe in all its vast complexity now made sense to him.

“Too bad.” He mused in a moment of lucidity. “All this now, with death but a millisecond away.”

But death did not come, or at least, he did not think it had. The images of his mind quickly faded, only to be replaced with the dream-like image of a single tower sitting upon a plain. Mitch mused for a moment that he was reminded of 1970s era van art or album covers. Why his brain would go there in his final moments, he did not know. But there was also a sense that it wasn’t him doing this. This was coming from outside, from somewhere else.

He walked up to the tower. It was overgrown with thorny vines and clarity came to him. This vision was real. It was not his own panicked imagination. Something was happening. Something wonderful.

“Possibility. Coincidence.” He mused in his mind. “These are illusions. All is controlled by fate. All is written into the tapestry of time. And I can be the author!”

He knelt down before the tower steps, and found a brick with no markings upon it. He ran his finger across it, as if to wipe the dust clean. Glowing letters appeared beneath his touch. The word made no sense to him, but he somehow knew that it was his name. His real name. His soul’s name.

Then his eyes snapped back open and the real world rushed back in. He was once more on the streets of Blacksburg. Once more, being chased by a vicious thug.

The expected kill shot had not come. Mitch made to stand again, when he saw something just a few moments before he would not have thought possible.

A man stepped out from the brick wall of the drug store on the corner; Literally stepped out of the brick. Without a word, the stranger drew a pistol of his own and squeezed off several rounds at the thug up the street. Mitch did not look to see what the result of that was, but the new arrival seemed satisfied. He offered Mitch his hand.

"Come, James Mitchell. What wonders I have to show you, young mage."

---

Boar lost track of Mitch in the darkness but he continued towards their planned destination, towards Deborah's apartment near Books, Strings, and Things. It did not take him long to realize his pursuers had kept up. He spotted the second thug on the sidewalk near Taco Bell and figured the other was not far away.

He watched as the one he'd spotted dashed off down the street, drawing a gun as he did so. He heard the gun go off a few seconds later, and his heart left into his throat. That thug would only have fired if he'd spotted Mitch.

He only had a second to dwell on that truth when the other came around the bend. Boar dashed across Main Street, heading towards one of the few businesses he knew would still be open: Mill Mountain Coffeehouse.

His pursuer seem undeterred by the possibility of witnesses, chasing after him. Boar heard more gunshots, uncertain if they were headed for him or if they were from the other thug chasing Mitch. But then he heard an odd sound: a howl, but not that of a dog. This was a wolf's howl.

Something about that out-of-place sound calmed him. He stopped running and moved into a nearby alley. The thug caught up.

"You've led me on a merry chase." commented the thug. And then the werewolf struck.

Boar didn't see much. Just a massive black dog-shape come out of the shadows. The thug barely had time to cry out before that shape overwhelmed him. It was over in less than a second.

Boar stood there dumbfounded and, much to his surprise, unafraid. The wolf came back around the bend, blood dripping from its mouth, and still Boar did not flinch.

But then the wolf charged him.

Boar was taken by surprise as the great black shape slammed into him. He felt the wolf's fang's tear at his arm. But just as soon as the attack began it was over. The wolf let him go, it backed away, and then morphed into a young Asian girl, maybe 15 or 16.

"You bit me."

"A rite of initiation," she explained, wiping the blood from her chin. "I am Ami. You are Mike Boorman. Now you've been blooded and it's time to join your new pack, cub."

---

"Mi'lord, we have them." reported the Djinn dutifully. His voice echoed across the empty sanctuary of St. Andrews church.

Prince Mathias made no motion for a long moment, no indication at all that he'd heard his bodyguard. He stared straight ahead, looking keenly at the altar. Upon it, the green of the post-Pentecost season seemed black in the dim light.

"Bring them, and let justice be done." he said quietly. "Deborah first, and alone."

The Djinn departed without a word, leaving the Prince to his meditations in the dark sanctuary. He returned a few minutes later, carrying the paralyzed Deborah, her chest pierced by a wooden stake. The Djinn did not await further instruction; he knew what he was to do. Without a word, he placed Deborah on the floor before the chancel area, binding her wrists and ankles with chains that he'd earlier anchored at various points on the church's stone walls. The Djinn tore her clothes from her body and tossed the shreds into a pile along the wall. She was spread-eagled on the floor before the Prince, naked and staring towards the ceiling of the church.

Mathias turned around, but did not look down at the vampire before him. That took some effort, The Djinn could tell. "Welcome my court." Mathias ordered. "They shall be witnesses to this."

The Djinn nodded as if in salute and turned towards the narthex. He opened the doors without a word. Then entered Ernie, Solomon, Andreas, Sophia, and her childe Corrine. All came in, and all but Ernie dropped their eyes to see Deborah displayed before them.

"It has come to my attention that a challenge has come against me as the rightful ruler of this city." said Mathias, his voice booming and full of anger. "One of those who has chosen to participate in this challenge lies before you. Two more await." He looked at the Djinn. "Bring them in."

The Djinn once more departed out a side door. He returned dragging Michael and Rebecca behind him, both staked, one under each arm. He sat them down in a choir pew to the left of the Prince and then moved to Deborah's side. "Deborah came to me nearly two years ago now to petition for the privilege to sire another kindred, a privilege I granted not just to her, but to others in this august assembly. She chose Michael Allens, a student at Virginia Tech to be her childe. He has now in turn embraced another, this Rebecca Philips. This was done without permission, without even the courtesy of asking.

"Our laws are clear. None may turn another without permission of the Prince. And every sire is responsible for the conduct of their childe until such time as the childe is recognized as a full member of our communion. I have not yet done so for Michael, thus Deborah will share in his punishment."

"For her, there are punishments worse than death, prisons stronger than those with bars. Deborah shall be forced to submit to the blood bond with her Prince. That should keep her wayward nature in line. But, lest any of you feel the urge to question my authority in the future, a more public demonstration of my power is warranted."

With that, Mathias took up a piece of parchment and scrawled Deborah's name upon it. The Djinn stepped forward and yanked the stake free from her heart. She stirred and then tested her bonds, but they were secure.

Mathias held aloft the parchment, held so all could see. "Longinus, the sainted founder of the Lancea Sanctum, taught his disciples many prayers, ways to invoke the power of the divine to serve our needs. Thus, Deborah Means, I now condemn you to suffer the scourge so that others may remember my power." The parchment burst into flames and vanished into ash. "Begin."

The Djinn took out a small dagger and slashed his wrist. A long stream of blood trailed to the floor from his wound, and then almost immediately coalesced into a whip-like strand.

“One” barked the Prince. The Djinn snapped the blood whip across Deborah’s naked skin. Her scream was deafening inside the stone church. Instead of the blood red welt one would expect from such a strike, it left a hideous grey wound, as if the very touch of the whip rotted flesh beneath it. The normally stoic and jaded crowd of vampires standing witness cringed.

“Two.” And The Djinn struck again. And again, Deborah screamed, a cry of agony and pain that left the witnesses shaken again.

“Three.” Another crack, another scream.

“Four.” And another.

“Five.” At this, the Prince raised his hand and the Djinn stepped back. The whip dissolved back into blood and splashed upon the floor.

Upon the floor, bound in chains, was no longer a beautiful young girl. Each blow of the Djinn’s whip putrefied her flesh and now she resembled a rancid corpse. Only the flicker of her eyes gave anyone any indication that she remained within that form.

“The long decades of our unlife can make one forget that pain is something we can still feel. Any who dare challenge me will learn that lesson anew. In time, her beauty will return, but for now she will endure not only my will but the grotesqueness of my kind.”

The Prince turned away from Deborah and came over to where Michael and Rebecca sat. The stakes within their chests kept all but their eyes from moving. “As for these foolish childer, there will be no mercy. Take each to the rooftops and leave them from the sun.” He snarled.

Ernie shot to his feet, as if in protest. The Djinn moved swiftly between him and Mathias. They glared at each other for a long moment.

“Have you something to say, Ernie?” taunted Mathias.

“You have made a dangerous choice, my Prince.” said Ernie.

“Have I?” said Mathias. He turned back to the assembled kindred. “Now go. All of you. And do not forget what you have seen this night.”

-----

Michael found himself dragged from his pew and carried out into the night. He had one fleeting glimpse of The Djinn carrying Rebecca off through another door. His tongue frozen by the stake’s paralysis, he could say nothing to her, no farewells, no apologies.

Fear like he’d never known gripped him as he was unceremoniously tossed into the trunk of a car. A few minutes drive and he was fetched from it again. In through a back door in some downtown Roanoke edifice, up the stairs to the roof, and then dropped onto the asphalt to await his fate.

Hours ticked by. Michael could see the darkness recede and the dim light of the sun began to filter through. He felt the heat of those first weak rays of sunlight. This was it. The end. It had come far sooner than he expected.

A loud bang erupted behind him; the door had been kicked open. Hands grabbed him by his jacket and dragged him forcefully back into the stairwell. A yank at the stake and he was free. Michael took a moment to regain his bearings. He was going to survive after all.

“Can you walk?” barked a voice, a familiar one. Solomon!

“Yes, but…”

“No time. We race the sunrise. Go! Down the stairs!”

Michael stumbled at first down the steps, but soon found his feet. Solomon tore on ahead of him. “Hurry!” he urged as he moved ahead. Michael quickened his pace.

They raced down the stairs, reaching the ground floor in record time. Solomon burst out the door into the rays of the rising sun. Michael hesitated when he saw the brightness. Solomon turned around and grabbed him forcefully, dragging him into the light. With a powerful shove, he literally tossed Michael into the air and into the back of a waiting van. With a powerful leap, Solomon was right behind him.

“Yay! Let’s hear it for the toughness of Gangrel.” Said another familiar voice: Ernie.

Solomon had the look of a man with a horrid sunburn, and Michael noticed his own skin bore the same bright red tint. “You came back for me?”

Solomon nodded. “Ernie refused to leave you to your fate.”

Michael suddenly remembered. “Rebecca! We have to find her!”

“There’s no way. It’s already too late for her.” Said Solomon. He barked up to the driver. “Now drive.”

“Too late?” sputtered Michael weakly.

“We’re sorry, Michael.” Said Ernie sympathetically, shaking his head.

“It can’t be…not Rebecca.” Michael felt his words slur.

“The daylight sleep comes whether we wish it or not.” Solomon’s words seemed far away as oblivion took him.

Act Two Chapter Nine

Vampire portraits: Solomon and Ernie

The vampires of Roanoke are getting further fleshed out here. Up first is Solomon.



I'm not very satisfied with this pic. It lacks the grey ashen skin tone of the vampires in my previous portrait post, but that's more an issue with Sims 3 than with the appearance of Solomon. But the way I really envision Solomon is actor Chris Hemsworth as Thor. But I didn't want to go completely the route of making him a double of the actor anymore than I did any of the other characters who are based on real people. So this is what I ended up with.



By contrast, I am delighted with this portrait of Ernie. A bit like the real person who played him, a bit sexually ambiguous (he's wearing makeup), and a bit disheveled all in one. Really pleased with how he turned out.

I'm going to mention a couple of notable absences here. I'm not planning to depict the other vampires of Roanoke in these portraits. While I don't mind the absence of Sophia and the other minor vampires, not having the Djinn and Prince Mathias is annoying. But there's no way for the Sims 3 engine (that I can tell) can really do them justice. I find a way, that'll change. But for now, don't be expecting to see our two main villains.

Another gem from the interwebz

There are a number of inspirations for this fan-fiction. The most obvious are, of course, my own life as well as the Vampire The Masquerade campaign I've run on and off for the past almost 20 years. Those have provided the plot. The "window dressings" however come a variety of movies, TV shows, video games, and other stories.

While poking around the Internet this evening, I stumbled upon a database website that catalogs all the firearms used in movies, TV, and video games. Weaponry plays quite a role in the story in the chapters to come and I try to be very precise about my guns.

The Internet Movie Firearms Database

Big inspirations for the "look" in my head for Philly by Night come from a lot of the Gothic action/adventure genre: Underworld, Blade, the Matrix. I've been popping around the pages for those movies for the last hour or so and I've learned a few things, including one instance I got wrong.

Michael's primary gun is a Beretta M93R machine pistol. My inspiration for this is two-fold. One, it was the villain's gun in an old anime called "Crying Freeman" and two, I presumed this was the weapon Selene used throughout much of the Underworld series.

After all, a normal Beretta M92 is not capable of full auto like Selene uses frequently. So it had to be an M93, right?

Wrong. One of the dangers of getting too inspired by a movie prop.

So, how precise do I want to be? Keep the M93 or give Michael a modded 92 like in Underworld?

Either way, it's a cool website. Check it out.