Shattered Scepters

DISCLAIMER:
The Clan names, discipline names and structure, titles and other such things are copyrighted to White Wolf Game Studio. Neither I, nor this story, are affiliated with White Wolf or any of their associates or subsidiaries, nor do I receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative.

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CHAPTER 11: RANDOM ENCOUNTERS

He hated the cold…hated winter. That’s why he came to this little desert town nestled near the Springs Mountain range. Nine months of the year was great, hot dry days, lots of sun, that’s what he wanted when he moved. He felt that if it would just snow the cold would go away. No one asked him if it was OK for Vegas to get cold….bastards.

He snuggled down into his thick winter coat as he walked against the increasing head wind. An unseasonable drizzle began to fill the air…and that was another thing!! What the fuck was up with this rain! In January even!!

“Give me a break!” he said to no one as he trudged on through the list mist. “You fucking suck!” he informed the sky, before pulling his hoodie up. With a disgusted sigh he snuggled even further into winter coat, cursing quietly all the way up the block. His colorful use of the English language stopped a several feet from the bus stop. Quietly he sat down beside a pale skinned woman as she spoke on her cell phone. Her black cherry colored hair fashioned into twin pig tails.

“Hey Stephan, it’s Lolli. I haven’t seen or heard from you in two weeks…OK, well…10 days to be exact…and just want to make sure you’re OK. So...uh…call me?” she quietly closed her phone and slipped it into the bright pink vinyl backpack she carried. She sighed and fidgeted with hands and tapped her feet as she waited for the bus. Wheels turned as she molded vague ideas into plans. She casually glanced over at the person sitting next to her, something about him seemed familiar.

“Do I know you?” she finally asked.

“I know I’ve seen you here at this bus stop a few times.” He said turning to face her.

“Yeah, I take it to get to work.”

“Yeah, same here. Work, errands, fun; I’m always on the bus. I love to people watch and buses are a pretty good place.”

She thought it was curious that he did not peruse such an obvious line of questioning about her profession; instead she decided to have a little fun. “Have you ever watched me?” she asked turning on her bedroom eyes.

“What?” he asked suddenly, his voice instantly a few octaves higher than normal.

“You say you like to people watch. And you recognized that we often ride this bus…so have you ever ‘people watched’ me?” she asked.

“Um…well…uh…maybe once or…uh…twice.”

She giggled her famous little titter that many had come to know…and a few come to fear. “I’m Lolli.” She offered, extending her hand.

“Random.” He responded, briefly shaking her hand.

“Random? Is that a nickname or something?” she asked.

“Yeah, my reg….” he suddenly coughed to cover his near slip “Sorry. My real good friend Glasgow started calling me that and it just kinda stuck.”

“Why?”

“He said it had something to do with my thoughts or attentions span…something like that. Are you heading to work right now?”

“Yep. Be there until about 4 this morning.”

“You think that maybe afterwards you’d like to get a cup of coffee of breakfast or something?” he boldly asked.

“Not tonight, but that does sound great, let me get your cell phone number.” She said, pulling out her cell phone. Again it struck her as odd that still has not asked what she does for a living. She was not dressed as provocatively as she usually does. Slim fitting jeans, with little pink and purple flower embroidered up her left leg were snug, but not tight and little pink sneakers covered her dainty feet. Her pink leather jacket and lavender scarf did absolutely nothing for her figure, other than obscure it. Nothing she wore was too revealing.

“I don’t have a cell phone, let me get yours.” He said countered as the bus was rumbling down the slick street.

“Ok!” she said, pulling out a scrap of paper and a purple pen. She scribbled her number down and explained that she works graveyard and sleeps all day. “But if you leave a message I promise I’ll call you back.” She said, handing him the crumpled the paper.

“I’ll call you in a few days.” He said, watching her rise to her feet as the bus stopped.

“You’re not getting on?” She asked, glancing at the small herd shuffling off the public transit.

“Nah, I’m waiting for a friend who is either on this bus or the next. We’re getting together with a few friends and hit some clubs.”

“Ok. I’ll talk to you later then.” She waved cheerfully as she climbed the steps. Random smiled and nodded at her. She found him odd, maybe she should’ve given him her phone number, but there was something about him. He knew her, of that she was certain, but where had she seen him before? It was one of those little moths that would flint about her memory, in an annoying way, until she captured and ate it. Alarms she knew better than to ignore were going off, but she her curiosity about where she knew him from was suppressing her instincts.

As the bus drove away his smile faded as darker, more serious thoughts began filling his slightly cracked mind. The little black rain clouds in his head were plotting with the shadows, he would have to work quickly if he was going to succeed. She seemed friendly and trustworthy…but he knew better. She was just another Kindred who needed to be taught her place.

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The Room.

The Room is a small space, barely 5’x 5’, at the far end of the Bruno manor. It was Vincent Bruno’s idea to have The Room built under his daughter’s herd. The vents in The Room’s wall, share air ducts with those for Isabella’s herd, allowing their screams and sobs into the small confined space. There are no lights, no carpet, no plaster or paint, nothing in the way of comfort existed within these walls. A large ring was bolted to the floor, through which chains ran. One end of the chains was connected to the rooms thick metal door, the other end was secured about Stephan’s wrists and neck by means of unforgiving shackles. When the door opened, it would pull on the chains, forcing the captive to kneel. There was neither enough chain nor ceiling room to allow anyone over 4’ 8” to stand up and the room was so small the stretching out was near impossible.

For ten nights Stephan had been chained in The Room. Ten long, cold, dark nights had passed with only the screams of Isabella’s prey and his thoughts to keep him company. Ever since that thick steel door was closed his thoughts were not the best for companionship. Each moment he worried about Lolli. Was she safe? Did she move to a new Haven in time? What was Isabella planning?

Thoughts about the Malkavian’s safety and wellbeing plagued his thoughts and knotted his stomach with dread. Isabella’s temper, when unleashed, is indeed a brutal beast sated only by the blood and agony of her victim. The more he tried not to imagine Lolli at that beast’s mercy the more vivid the violent images filled his mind.

Stephan’s nightmares had returned with a vengeance, to the point where he would force himself to stay awake for days on end. The worst came the third night of his punishment, when his memory recalled the slow, torturous death of his beloved Amata, so many decades ago. In his nightmare the woman change sometimes it would be Amata and other times it was Lolli, the screams of Isabella’s herd and the smell of their blood penetrated his troubled sleep. He awoke so violently and struggled against his restraints so fiercely that he had cut his wrists and neck. For several hours afterwards his body trembled from the adrenaline and pain.

The shallow cuts on his wrists and neck throbbed as his muscles screamed to be stretched. While his nerves were screaming his mind had calmed, allowing him to focus on his distraction with the Malkavian. Quietly he waited in the cold darkness for his master to decide his fate.

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**Why was he here?** Lolli furiously demanded. She mentally growled as she stared at the driver’s license with angry eyes. Dance music continues to pump in the dimly lit club and could be heard even in this back room. She flipped back to a photo of a young girl beaming happily holding a hand made banner that read “Happy Father’s Day!” specks of colorful pain on her 10 year old face and small hands.

“You’re so innocent.” She whispered to the picture, casually running her fingers over the picture. “You deserve a good daddy.” she slipped the photo into her small pink vinyl purse. “And good daddies don’t come to places like this.” She quietly growled. “He’s a bad daddy.” She mumbled, adding the stolen driver’s license to her purse.

“Bad daddies look at strippers and porn. Bad daddies like to touch their little girls.” She whispered, stalking over to her locker and pulling out her leather jacket. “Bad daddies…do things to their little girls.” She added, zipping up her jacket and slipping her purse over her shoulder.

“He won’t do things to you.” She promised the picture in her purse. Her mind was filled with flashes from her own violent childhood. The memories sexual abuse, the foster care program, people promising to keep her safe only to return to her lecherous father all flickered behind her eyes. No little girl should go through that. “But you won’t. I’ll save you.” She promised, walking out into the cold wind.

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The Patriarch sat in a large chair at the far end of the room, as always his features hidden with the shadows of his hooded cloak. The long room was dimly illuminated, only two small candles fought back the encroaching darkness.

Silently a lithe figure stole into that long dark room, a thick manila envelope tucked under her arm. Casually she strolled into the candlelight. Her shoulder length curly red hair pulled back into a pony tail at the base of her skull. Dark brown eyes carefully watched her surroundings. A small scar cut through her left eye brow, but other than that her face was smooth and expressionless.

“Ah, my dear lady.” He said, rising to his feet to meet her. She smiled a courteous little grin that never reached her dark eyes. “Is this all the information you were able to obtain?” he asked, accepting the bulging envelope. “It’s more than I was excepting.” He confessed, producing a thick envelope of his own from beneath his robes.

“It is a pity that you will not join us in our retirement plan.” He commented as she took the envelope and slipped it into her back pocket. She hesitated for a second. Her eyes still fixed on him, but she was even more aware of her periphery vision. He saw her tense, her hand resting close to her gun.

“You do not need that, Sam. I am only commenting that we would be greater served if you would join us.”

She shook her head and began backing out of the room as he continued to assure her that this wasn’t a trap and she was free to leave. He went over to a large desk, hidden in the shadows and spilled the envelope’s contents onto the polished surface. He sat and reviewed Sam’s findings and reports about Sabbat activity. There were always rumors about an impending Sabbat invasion, most of them unfounded, as was this one he was reading about. Yes Sabbat spies have entered the city, a fact that could be used to his advantage, but there is nothing here to indicate that the Sabbat are planning an attack. He sighed with relief; he did not want to try to factor the Sabbat into his plan.

He pulled five survelliance photos from the papers and carefully slid everything else back into the large envelope. He strolled over to the gas fireplace on the opposite side of the room and turned up the flames, immediately bathing the room in a flickering yellow light. He tossed the package into the fire and watched into the flame flare up. Unpleasant memories filling his mind as gazed at the flames. Shaking his head clear, he used a fire poker to make certain everything was completely consumed. His mind working on a cover story to explain how knew these five people were Sabbat, when he warned his people about the spies.

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The hot water pelted her pale skin and washing away the dried blood. Little streams of red and pink bubbles made their way down the drain. Shampooing her dark hair renewed the flood of pink suds and crimson streams. When the water finally ran clear she turned it off, and wrapped herself in a towel. The small bathroom was filled with steam, which quickly dissipated when she opened the bathroom door.

She picked up her newly acquired, baby blue teddy bear and sat cross-legged on her bed. The pale blue eyeless toy smiled at her as she named it Amanda.

“Amanda.” Lolli said, after all that’s the name of the girl she rescued tonight. She smiled as a sense of gratification and a job well done filled her, little Amanda was safe. She remembers fondly pulling the blankets up to the girl’s arm pits and slipping a rag doll in the crook of the left arm. Little Amanda sleeping so peacefully, her bark brown hair a splash against the pink Barbie brand pillow case. Her little face pale with a sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks and her little heart shaped lips…that were just beginning to turn blue. Amanda was so grateful for being saved that she gave Lolli one her teddy bears.

Lolli went into the living room and introduced Amanda to the 16 stuffed animals that were all patiently waiting to meet their new friend. She called each toy by name, a name of another little girl she had rescued.

She had punished another bad daddy tonight, her mind occasionally flashing back to earlier. She saw the knife rise and fall multiple times, and saw blood splattering all over the buttery yellow walls. She was well aware that she had committed murder, but it wasn’t a crime. He was a bad daddy, and he wasn’t going to hurt anyone else ever again.

With a smile she told the stuffed animals to play nice. Lolli then returned to her room, as the sun was beginning to wake up just below the horizon.