Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ EXITUS ACTA PROBAT ❯ The heiress of Aleister Crowley ( Chapter 1 )

EXITUS ACTA PROBAT

 

 

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Elizabeth Crowley.

 

Note: this story is an alternate universe of the great story of Sic Semper Morituri by Daniel Gibson. I'll try to not make a simple copy of his excellent work. Hope you enjoy my vision.

 

Sorry it's been so long. Exitus Acta Probat is one of my biggest works. I want it to be in league with the story which inspired me. Hope you don't wait too long for the next chapter.

 

Thank you to Daniel Gibson for his pre-reading and correction.

 

This story is the sequel of The Valkyrie's Frustration.

 

A little bonus: the character sheet of Elizabeth Crowley with Cthulhu D20 system. You will note that she is a `little' too powerful for the RPG but trust me. Compared to the other Children, she is relatively weak (Jeff, Rei and Ranma are positively monstrous, Asuka is more powerful than her physically, Nabiki is more intelligent than her and only Shinji is at first much feeble than her and his potential will blow her out of the water). She had good skills and tremendous potential in ranged combat but she is really fragile (One or two solid hits will take her out. All the others Children, even Shinji, are more enduring than her.).

 

Name: Elizabeth Crowley. Profession: Student. Level: 5. Template: Children, divine-touched and bloodline heir.

Age: 14 years. Gender: female. Height: 1m50. Weight: 59 kg. Eyes: blue. Hair: Blonde. Skin: Caucasian.

Mother: unknown. Father: unknown. Grandmother: Jeanne Foster (Soror Hillarion). Grandfather: Aleister Crowley.

 

Strength: 7 (-2) elderly.

Dexterity: 17 (+3) circus acrobat.

Constitution: 7 (-2) puny.

Intelligence: 19 (+4) genius.

Wisdom: 19 (+4) guru.

Charisma: 15 (+2) take-charge type.

 

Hit points: 12. Energy points: 99. Armour class: 16/21 with all defensive items. Speed: 30 feet. Current sanity: immune. Max sanity: immune. 20% sanity: immune.

Initiative: +7. Option: defence. Base attack: +4. Fortitude: +1. Reflex: +6. Will: +6.

Melee attack bonus: +2.

Ranged attack bonus: +7/+2.

 

Weapon: derringer. Attack bonus: +7/+2. Damage: 1d8. Critical: X3. Range: 5. Weight: 0,5 lbs. Type: pistol. Special: multifire, 2 shots.

Weapon: Mauser broomhandle. Attack bonus: +8/+3. Damage: 1d10. Critical: X3. Range: 20. Weight: 2,75 lbs. Type: pistol. Special: multifire, 10 shots clip.

Weapon: rapier. Attack bonus: +8/+3. Damage: 1d6. Critical: 18-20/X2. Weight: 3 lbs. Type: piercing. Size: medium.

Weapon: Kris. Attack bonus: +9/+4. Damage: 1d4+1. Critical: 18-20/X2. Weight: 3 lbs. Type: slashing. Size: small. Special: +1d6 damage on Mythos, ignore damage reduction.

Weapon: throwing knife. Attack bonus: +8/+3. Damage: 1d4+1. Critical: 19-20/X2. Range: 10. Weight: 0,75 lbs. Type: piercing. Size: tiny. Special: enchanted with bless blade.

Weapon: unarmed strike. Attack bonus: +9/+4. Damage: 1d4-2. Critical: X2. Type: bludgeoning.

 

Core skills (with all bonus and penalty):

Animal empathy (cha): +10, concentration (con): +8, diplomacy (cha): +8, heal (wis): +15, hide (dex): +11, knowledge chemistry (int): +12, knowledge occult (int): +15, performance flute (cha): +8, psychic focus (wis): +15, research (int): +12, speak French (int): +10, speak German (int): +10.

 

Others skills (with all bonus and penalty):

Balance (dex): +9, bluff (cha): +8, climb (str): +0, craft gunsmith (int): +6, craft chemistry (int): +6, Cthulhu Mythos: +8, demolition (int): +6, disable device (int): +6, disguise (cha): +3, escape artist (dex): +6, gather information (cha): +6, handle animal (cha): +10, innuendo (wis): +8, intimidate (cha): +6, jump (str): +2, knowledge archaeology (int): +10, knowledge astronomy (int): +10, knowledge geography (int): +10, knowledge history (int): +10, knowledge hieroglyph (int): +6, knowledge Enochian (int): +6, listen (wis): +10, move silently (dex): +7, open lock (dex): +4, performance sing (cha): +6, performance stage magic (cha): +6, pilot small aircraft (dex): +7, psychoanalysis (wis): +8, ride (dex): +7, search (int): +8, sense motive (wis): +8, sleight of hand (dex): +11, speak Japanese (int): +8, speak Indian (int): +8, speak Chinese (int): +8, speak Arabic (int): +8, speak Greek (int): +8, speak Latin (int): +8, speak Italian (int): +8, spellcraft (int): +11, spot (wis): +10, swim (str): +0, tumble (dex): +9, use rope (dex): +4, wilderness lore (wis): +8.

 

Feats:

Acrobatic: you are very agile. Alertness: you are keenly aware of your surroundings. Agile riposte: you have learned to strike when your opponent is most vulnerable, that is at the instant your opponent strikes at you. Ambidexterity: ignore all penalties for using an off hand. Animal affinity: you are good with animals. Blind fight: you know how to fight in melee without being able to see your foes. Brawl: you deal more damage in a fistfight. Combat casting: you are adept at casting spells in combat. Combat reflexes: you can respond quickly and repeatedly to opponents who let their guard down. Dead aim: you are capable of lining up deadly shots with ranged weapons. Defensive martial arts: you are skilled at avoiding harm in battle. Dodge: you are adept at dodging attacks. Double tap: you can make two quick shots with a firearm as a single attack. Elusive target: you can use opponents as cover when engaged in melee combat. Expertise: you are trained at using your combat skill for defence as well as offence. Far shot: you can get greater distance out of a ranged weapon. Focused: you can maintain your focus even under difficult circumstances. Improved disarm: you know how to disarm opponents in melee combat. Improved feint: you are skilled at misdirecting your opponent's attention in melee combat. Improved initiative: you react more quickly than normal in a fight. Iron will: you have a stronger will than normal. Lightning reflexes: you have faster than normal reflexes. Martial artist: you are skilled at fighting while unarmed and deal more damage with unarmed strikes, you are also capable of dealing normal damage with unarmed attacks at no penalty. Medical expert: you have a knack for aiding the sick and injured. Mobility: you are skilled at dodging past opponents and avoiding attacks they make against you. Nimble: you have exceptional flexibility and manual dexterity. Point blank shot: you are skilled at making well-placed shots with ranged weapons at close range. Precise shot: you are skilled at timing and aiming ranged attacks. Quick draw: you can draw weapons with startling speed. Quick reload: you can reload a firearm with exceptional speed. Rapid shot: you can use ranged weapons with exceptional speed. Rolling shot: you are highly trained in acrobatic, defensive ranged weapon tactics. Shot on the run: you are highly trained in ranged weapon tactics. Skill emphasis: you have a special knack with heal, knowledge occult, psychic focus and spellcraft. Skip shot: you can ricochet a firearm shot around cover. Spring attack: you are trained in fast melee attacks and fancy footwork. Streetfighting: you know the brutal and effective fighting tactics of the street and back alleys. Two-weapon fighting: you can fight with a weapon in each hand, making one extra attack each round with the second weapon. Weapon finesse: you are skilled at using a certain melee weapon, one that can benefit as much from dexterity as from strength (knife, rapier, unarmed strike). Weapon focus: you are especially good at using a specific weapon (unarmed strike, Kris, rapier, Mauser M 1896 broomhandle). Weapon proficiency: you understand how to use of particular type of weapon in combat (melee weapons, thrown weapons, pistols, primitive ranged weapons).

 

Psychic feats:

Biofeedback trance: you can access your inner psychic strength, using it to better use the powers of your own body. Dowsing: you can sense energy patterns invisible to others. Mind probe: you can delve into someone's mind to learn information stored there. Mind reading: you can read someone else's current thoughts. Psychokinesis: with a talent of mind over matter, you can manipulate physical objects by thoughts alone. Psychometry: you can handle an object and gain a vision, either of the person who created it or someone who has touched it in the past. Remote viewing: you can see events occurring far away from you. Second sight: you can see things that others cannot, sometimes ghosts or horrible alien monsters can render themselves invisible but not to you. Sensitive: you are aware that there is more than meets the eye, an almost imperceptible world of psychic phenomena. Telepathy: you can communicate with someone by sending mental messages.

 

Equipment:

Two Remington double derringer.

One Mauser M1896 Broomhandle.

Rapier, throwing knives.

Ammunitions standards for all weapons, including a reloading set, armour-piercing rounds (-3 class armour, -2 damage and -1 critical) and hollow point rounds (+1 critical against non-armoured targets, half damage and -1 critical against armoured targets).

Folding pocket camera with 6 shots films, portable photo-lab, microfilms set.

First aid kit, flashlight with 3 cells, hand-held emergency flares, carbide spelunker lamp, carbide battery.

Trunk, binoculars X6, lockpicking tools, padlocks, gas mask, backpack.

Pocket watch, silver plated cross, golden plated ankh, handcuff, cigarette lighter, umbrella.

 

Books:

Many books about the Mythos, mostly on microfilms.

 

Artefacts:

Carafe of space mead (numb body, enable to survive in space).

Elder thing crystal (at her neck, supply her in magical energy, 5 to 50 energy points per day).

Jar of powder of Ibn-Gazi (render the invisible visible for 2 rounds).

Jar of the baneful dust of Hermes Trismegistus (2d6 damage monsters).

Sacred Kris (unique item, magical weapon, +1 to hit and damage, +1d6 damage against any Mythos, ignore any type of damage reduction).

Cloak of the Raven (unique item, inheritance Crowley line, pockets with micro-gateway to storage space, +4 natural class armour, +2 to hide in shadows).

Enchanted silver flute (for some spells, resistant to normal forces, +1 class armour deflection).

Enchanted ammunitions for Mauser and derringer (always have at least 1 full clip for the Mauser and 4 bullets for the derringers, +1 to hit and damage).

One enchanted throwing knife (+1 to hit and damage).

 

Spells:

She knows most of the Mythos spells except those usable only by a specific race, the unique ones and the legendary ones.

Preferred ones: augury (with tarot cards), candle communication, chant of Thoth, cloud memory, control weather, create barrier of Naach-Tith, create temporary gate, darkness, death by flames, detect life, detect magic, dismiss deity, dismissal, elder sign, bless blade, create powder of Ibn-Gazi, create baneful dust of Hermes Trismegistus, enchant bullet, enchant pipes, brew space mead, find gate, fist of Yog-Sothoth, frozen tracks, healing touch, hide from the eye, hypnotism, invisibility purge, levitate, locate creature, locate object, magic weapon, message, mind blast, mirror of Tarkhun Atep, obscuring mist, pipes of madness, raise night fog, return to rest, seal of Isis, shrivelling, shield of Mnar, soul singing, spectral razor, suggestion, summon/bind creature (byakhee, fire vampire, nightgaunt), true strike, unmask demon, view gate, voice of Ra, voorish sign, warding the eye and word of recall.

 

 

Chap 1:The heiress of Aleister Crowley.

 

 

London, England, 7 Mars 1947.

 

The city of London stood proudly undefeated by the forces of Germany. Since the end of the constant bombardments she has slowly licked her wounds and gathering her people scattered by the exigencies of the war.

 

But under the courage and the brilliance of her inhabitants, under the decorum of her history and under the power of her post-war industry lurked a dark underworld that had never settled down since the first time that Guillaume the Conqueror set foot in England and won the battle of Hastings. In fact, it has never settled down since Man first scraped the fire from a tree struck by lightning to chase away the darkness in the world and in his heart.

 

Somewhere along the Thames, a dock stood abandoned since the end of the conflict, its vast warehouses no longer useful for the war effort. In the deep shadows within those buildings, dark deeds were conducted.

 

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They were scum. They were the lowest of the people. Thrown down by a society that ignore them, they survived by leeching the despair of those who lived at the light and by preying on the weak and the destitute. Their minds were feeble and easily moulded by the alien darkness of the forbidden knowledge. They were perfect pawns, easily sacrificeable and replaced.

 

The truck held the mark of a coal delivery services and was transporting half a dozen of men in the beginning of the night under the rising full moon. Among the dusty sacks of coal were a few which were shaped like a humanoid. The ruffians were laughing as they used a lighter for their cigarettes.

 

“It was a good first sweep, wasn't it?”

 

“Yeah, I was amazed that a few of them willingly follow us. How stupid females can be.”

 

Hard laughter erupted in the moving vehicle and one of the men hit a sack with a kick.

 

“Be careful with the merchandise! Our employer wants them as intact as possible.”

 

“No worry with that. This black powder he gives to us was very efficient.”

 

A hard knock from the back of the cabin by the conductor interrupted them. They were approaching the warehouse. The doors opened on a signal and the truck entered the building. Another half a dozen of men were waiting by a set of stairs.

 

After the doors were closed, they quickly took the humanoid-shaped sacks. Ten sacs were being descended in the deep of the darkened stairs. The group then took a pre-planned way in the maze of tunnels under the warehouse.

 

The group of men entered a set of vast rooms. Lighting was assumed by gaslights on the walls. A rather effeminate man hidden in the shadows was waiting for them. He opened a padlocked door and signaled the men. They simply threw their living cargo in the damped room. The effeminate man nodded and showed them two briefcases on a table. The men ran to the table, the light of greed glowing in their eyes.

 

They laughed as banknotes were revealed to be the content of the two briefcases. On another nod of the effeminate man, they went back on their way, already discussing what they will do with their fortune.

 

“Stupid filthy garbage.”

 

The effeminate man stepped out of the shadows, revealing a medium but skinny pale young man with dirty-blond hair and small black eyes hidden by round glasses. He was dressed in a grey suit and carrying a dark wood cane.

 

“It's already too late for you.” His smile became wicked. “Already, you are being consumed by greed. Ah! Ah! You are now only thinking that YOU should be the only one to have such a fortune. And in a few moments, this envy will become obsession and then…”

 

Screams were heard in the maze of tunnels a few minutes later and a few gunshots erupted. The pale young male laughed at that. Without a sound two forms appeared behind him.

 

“Go and make sure no one survived! After that, bring the corpses to the reserve.”

 

“Yes, master!”

 

The two forms dropped on the ground and like shadow-animals ran into the maze. The pale young man then whistled and four men entered. They were Europeans but were garbed in ancient-Egypt style white and golden robes. Their heads were shaved and kohl adorned their eyes making them elongated.

 

“Check the goods then select seven of them. Make sure that they are the most beautiful of them and prepare them for the ceremony.”

 

Without a word, the four men entered the room and began to open the sacks. Women were revealed as they proceed. Women from across all of society: housewives, workers, prostitutes, vagabonds and students. All were below twenty-five and quite comely. They began to transfer the ones they selected two by two to another room where they were taken away by men clad in loincloth, black wigs and armed with bronze glaives.

 

“Master? One of them is dead.”

 

“Oh? Well, too bad. She was probably allergic to the `Dust of Apep'. Leave her with the rest.” He smiled like a shark. “It will make those who will come tomorrow night a little…apprehensive.” He laughed wickedly as he considered the body of one of the students.

 

It was too bad that she was dead. She was a schoolgirl clad in a plain grey English school uniform with a black cloak. Her golden hair shone under the gaslights. Young girls were the best for the ceremony. Well, it could be said that she was the most…lucky among the women.

 

Once again he laughed as he followed the four men with the two last women they selected for the ceremony. The laughter diminished as they went into the deepness of the underground. Behind them two living unconscious bodies and one cadaver were left locked in the damped room.

 

The cadaver opened her eyes. Piercing blue eyes momentarily glowed in the dark as her inner energy proceeded to speed her metabolism back to normal. To anyone she has been not breathing and her heart was not beating a few minutes ago.

 

She did not hear anyone nearby and she only sensed the light glow of two minds unconscious by her side. Good: Everything was proceeding as planned for now.

 

She stood up, wincing as her bruises were signalling to her. The ruffians have not been very careful with her when she allowed them to kidnap her in that back alley. She murmured a spell.

 

“Sight beyond sight

Glow of life

To my eyes be revealed.”

 

The darkness of the room faded as the particular wavelength of the life-force became perceptible to her eyes. The spell confirmed what her psychic sensitivity has revealed. Apart for the two young women, there were no sign of life around. Not even rats, that was curious in an underground lair. A nauseous taint touched briefly her extra-sensory perception and she narrowed her eyes. `It' was near. `It' was also why there were no normal signs of life. She must carry on.

 

She carefully treaded to the door and examined it by touch. It was barred from the exterior, probably by a padlock. The normal lock was broken and the wood was reinforced by some rusted metal. It was enough to lock in terrified women. The smells inside the room were unmistakable: Terror and despair mixed with human wastes and decayed flesh. Well, her plans didn't involve staying in this room especially as her second sight showed her the numerous ghosts trapped here by their horrible deaths.

 

She let the warmth of her life-force draw them to her and then she opened her spirit to show them her determination to stop those who murdered them and find their mortals remains to finally grant them their rightful rest. She allowed spectral fingers to touch her flesh as some spirits tried to gather enough strength from her sorrow and gentleness to let go of their torments, but the cruelty of their passing was just too great.

 

She drew power from the righteous fury ignited in her core-being and focused her mind on the exterior padlock. She could `taste' the metal, `smell' the moving pieces of the mechanism and she reached to it with her mental might.

 

With a click, the padlock opened itself and the door opened without visible intervention. Behind it the gaslights revealed a small English schoolgirl of five feet with golden hair and deep blue eyes. She smirked as she considered the corridor to another part of the underground and sensed the eagerness of the restless ghosts.

 

“Prepare yourselves cultists. We're coming.”

 

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The song was mounting in the pyramidal building, traditional instruments of ancient Egypt accompanying it. The congregation was composed of a mix of Europeans, Middle-Easterners and a few Asians. All were clothed in loincloths and tunics more appropriate thousands of years ago, various animal masks protected their identity. The ceremony was held by a score of unmasked shaved priests garbed in elaborate robes. Suspended ramps of oil lamps and torches provided the lighting and conferred an appropriate mood to the proceedings. On the walls, painted hieroglyphs were proclaiming faith to the darkest of the Egyptian pantheon: Set, Apep, Ammit and Anubis.

 

In front of the central altar, a dirty-blond young man was clad in a gold and black robe and wore not a mask but a bronze cobra on his forehead. He was holding an obsidian dagger and was leading the chant. On his sides, two men clad in very ample dark grey robes were harbouring dog-heads a little too…alive. Unknown to them an intruder was slowly working her way inside the structure.

 

She had `borrowed' a tunic and a cat-mask from an unlucky woman of small stature as to not be remarked too easily. Her argument in the form of a sample of the `Dust of Apep' has been enough to convince the cultist to `help' her. The unfortunate cultist was now gently napping in a closet, bounded and gagged.

 

The entire underground pyramid revealed itself to be only plaster on a wooden structure to her examination. It was cheap, easy to replace and construct but also very…flammable. Reserves of oil were nearby, very easily prepared for a little surprise. It would be rude to not prepare something grandiose for the ceremony.

 

There were a few things that made her uneasy as she proceeded. In another room she found everything needed to…mummify someone using the ancient Egyptian method: Linen bands, canopic jars and baths of natron. She first thought that they had mummified the preceding sacrifices but the spirits with her rapidly invalidated this thought. They couldn't answer directly in their suffering but it was for something else, something more dangerous and wicked.

 

Another room was simply a vast reserve of…corpses. The scent of decay was almost overwhelming but the most terrifying thing was the black liquid that permeated the room: It was the first stage to a massive `Create Undead' spell. There were enough corpses to create a small army. It was probably why they needed human sacrifices under a full moon to gather enough necromantic energy to cast the spell on such a vast numbers. She narrowed her eyes under the mask as she considered the presence of a powerful spell-caster.

 

She consulted her pocket watch. It was almost time for her to contact her allies. They were probably worried about her and more than ready to stop the cult. She hid in a back room and lighted a small candle as she watched the needles of her watch reached a pre-determined time.

 

“Spirit of the flame

Flicker with my mind

To your twin

Carry my voice.”

 

She waited a few second for the spell to reach its peak then spoke.

 

“It's time.”

 

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The ceremony was proceeding smoothly. Robert Caster was smiling as he continued his praises to the Dark Pharaoh. After two other ceremonies like this one, the cult would have enough energy to create a formidable army of zombies. Hidden in the maze of the sewers of London, they would strike their enemies, especially those who were beginning to threaten his master and their Masters. When the news was received from their contact in Japan, he couldn't believe it at first. It seemed impossible that a mere mortal invention could win against a Dhole and yet…

 

The various seers of the cult were also very perplexed by the visions they received now. After the glorious confirmation that it was `time', troubling images were revealed that even their zeal could not prevent. The seeds of doubt have been planted. Rumours of vengeful gods and goddesses were even now circulating around the circle of `those who know'.

 

Bah, it was useless and futile to resist for humanity. The Stars were Right, the new order would be! The Masters would not permit anything else! His Master will not permit it. His voice went crescendo as the sacrifices were presented. Seven women on gurneys were wheeled near the central altar, still unconscious and clad in purified white linen. When the full moon was at its zenith, he would strike them in the heart and the obsidian dagger, gift of the Dark Pharaoh would retain the very energy of their ritual deaths to empower in the future the mighty spell readied in another room. It was then that he heard the other music within the music…

 

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They had seen nothing. They couldn't conceive that the central nest of their power had been invaded. No normal human could safely be inducted into the cult without losing their sanity to their Masters. Undercover operations by the police or the Army were not possible and numerous attempts had been prevented before they reached too deep.

 

She simply walked in their midst wearing their colours. She reached her destination without being hindered. The location of the musicians of the ceremony was perfect for the acoustics. The music was perceived by everybody inside the underground pyramid for their goal needed a proper ambiance. She prepared a flute of pure silver for the right moment and began to whisper her spell.

 

“Amorphous blight of nethermost confusion

Centre of all infinity

Heartbeat of the cosmos

Now shrill for all.”

 

The thin monotonous whine of her silver flute erupted in the pyramid. The effect in the closed structure was horrendous and devastating. The spell the young schoolgirl used was known as the `Pipes of Madness' by some. What few could conceive was that this sound was the very sound of the essence of Creation in all its splendour. The mortal spirit cannot perceive such a thing and retained its sanity. The result on such a wretched congregation was predictable: They erupted in full madness.

 

Some screamed, fled in panic, succumbed to hysteria or a homicidal mood. Others became catatonic, babbled in incoherent rapid speech or fell into a stupor. All in all, almost the entire crowd was rendered unable to fight effectively and most began to rush to the exit under the madness-inducing music.

 

The very few persons that still retained their sanity were prevented from taking any useful actions by the insane mob. Hidden pocket handguns fired, short swords hacked and even teeth were used to escape the maddening rhythm. After a dozen minutes, Robert Caster could at least search for his foe as most of the congregation has fled the pyramid, including the other priests. There was no one in the spot of the musicians. He snarled and turned to his servants.

 

“FIND HIM AND KILL HIM!”

 

“Yes, master!”

 

The two forms near him shed their robes, revealing their hideous nature. They were a patchwork of desiccated flesh of various humans and…animals. Sewn with dark rituals already ancient when Egypt was young, the Animal Mummies ran to accomplish the will of their master. Growling they sniffed the ground for the smell of their prey. A small hand reached with a knife for a rope secured on a wall at the other extremity of the central room. A heavy ramp of oil lamps fell right on the two…inflammable mummies. They erupted in startled barks and began to burn as flaming oil drenched them. Forgotten instincts overrode the commands of their master and they flee within the structure attempting to smother the fire.

 

Robert was screaming incoherent orders as he witnessed his two beautiful creations propagating fire to the entire structure. He knew that the pyramid was composed of wood and plaster but the rapidity of the fire was…not normal. Furious, he searched for his rightful prey. He would feel the curse of the Old Ones, he will screamed for eternity in the baleful miasmas of the mighty Azathoth, he would…

 

“SCOTLAND YARD! SURRENDER!”

 

NO! It was not possible. The accursed force of police had invaded his sanctuary. Already armed policemen were flooding from the still not on fire main entrance of the pyramid firing with automatic weapons on his few remaining cultists who charged with mindless fury. He couldn't even reach the sacrifices as a line of fire erupted between him and his targets. Wait a minute! A line of fire without combustible? A spell! There was an accursed amateur spell caster in the pyramid. He couldn't afford to be taken by Scotland Yard. He must flee!

 

The sorcerer ran to the back exit still untouched by the fire. Behind him, the valiant policemen were evacuating the victims of the flaming structure. A big moustached fellow in civilian garb armed with a famous Tommy Gun was directing his force in retreat as he witnessed the fire reaching the ceiling. The sacrifices were saved and most of the cultists were killed or captured, it was time to retire to a more safe location and let his ally dealt with the other menace.

 

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Robert Caster ran along the hidden corridor, an electric torch in hand providing the only lighting. His breathing was heavy as his body was not familiar with such an exercise. Everything was not lost. He could still reach the main chamber of the reserve of bodies in time and render it inaccessible to the police. A simple lever and the entire corridor to the room would crumble. Then he could go to another location where a simple exploder waited for him and the mines in some strategically points of the underground maze would explode, burying the accursed Scotland Yard in a grandiose mass tomb. He didn't perceive the nimble black silhouette chasing after him.

 

At last he reached the chamber and opened the door. The scent of decay was perfume to his nose. He invested so much in the venture, so much time and money. Why, his very family and sanity had been sacrificed for the power hidden in this room. He laughed as he firmly pulled down the lever and his universe exploded in flame and pain.

 

The heavy scent of decayed flesh and the foul decoctions used for the preparation of the spell had masked the gasoline sprayed in the chamber. The sparks of two electrical wires had inflamed the gigantic fuel-air bomb. Fire engulfed the mortal remains and the wretched soul who made it possible.

 

The young girl was gazing impassively on the screaming flaming silhouette who was attempting to escape his fiery death. She was anew clad in her grey school uniform with her black cloak. She raised her left hand from the depth of the cloak, a metallic éclat shining in it under the light of the fire. There was only one shot heard in the underground corridor. Robert Caster, last scion of an old family of England and pawn of the Dark Pharaoh crumbled to the floor, a single bullet from a silvered Mauser M1896 Broomhandle had pierced his forehead and ended his life.

 

Unfortunately for him, it was not finished. She witnessed his soul rising from the still burning corpse but she was not the only one.

 

The spirit of Robert gazed hatefully on the… What? It was only a young girl that killed him! It was not the end! He would haunt her for all eternity! He would suck on the marrow of her bones! He would push her in the darkness of insanity! He would…

 

Around the young girl, the spectral mass of the former victims of the sorcerer whirled in gleeful anticipation. Her mind reached for the spirit of the servant of the Old Ones.

 

<This is the end for you.>

 

<WHO ARE YOU?!>

 

She smiled and the wretched soul knew fear as the blue eyes of the golden haired girl pinned him with the power hidden in it as her telepathic voice cut coldly and deeply in him.

 

<I am Elizabeth Crowley and these are your executioners.>

 

The ghosts around her fell like the wrath of God on the shrieking murderer. She forced herself to witness the final rending of Robert Caster as the spirits unleashed their retribution. There would be no reincarnation or even reclamation of this soul by a higher power. The very essence of this tainted soul has been reduced to nothingness. Sending a soul to Oblivion was extremely difficult even for higher beings, only the sheer numbers of angry ghosts present has rendered it possible. She let her tears fall as she sensed the passing of appeased souls into another plane of existence.

 

The hand that seized her by the throat took her completely by surprise. She felt the impact of the wall even with the protection of her enchanted cloak as she was thrust against it. She gasped as she looked on the still smoking corpse of one of the Animal Mummies of the late Caster.

 

“The master has ordered your death.”

 

She reacted with all the muscle memory learned under her teachers in the arts of the deep India. Her right hand flashed along the throat of the lunging mummy as she forced her bruised body in a roll to the left side. The monster crashed in the wall in two parts as his head rolled on the floor.

 

She attempted to regain her breathing as her senses mundane and spiritual explored around her to see if other threats were present. Stupid, stupid, it was so stupid of her to be surprised like this. She shouldn't have let the passing of the ghosts distract her. If the mummy had been anything like an intelligent enemy she would be dead now. She pressed her Kris on her heart. The sacred weapon had saved her life numerous times against the forces of the Mythos. Final gift from her teachers, the weapon was a bane against all the Mythos and was also a dear friend for the lonely girl. She had allies, acquaintances but no true friends, at least in this world as her thoughts took her to a certain eternal city beyond the veil of the sleep.

 

She smirked as she assessed her bruises. She could already imagine the lecture that two of her special friends would deliver if they learned of her fault. Well, this time, they would have the opportunity to scold her in person on this plane of existence.

 

“Sight beyond sight

Glow of magic

To my eyes be revealed.”

 

The simple spell was the Bed and Breakfast of all who did more than dabble in magic. The very distinct glow of magic shone to the eyes of Elizabeth. Good, there was no other surprise in her vicinity with the exception of an obsidian knife in the burning remnants of Robert Caster. She narrowed her eyes as she contemplated what to do with this dangerous weapon. The taint of the Dark Pharaoh was still perceptible after the death of its last owner. Taking it with her would be dangerous as she risked being targeted by the Crawling Chaos.

 

She tapped her lips as she pondered on the situation. She couldn't destroy it now with her limited resources and she didn't dare to leave it here as anyone could take it. She raised an eyebrow as a possible solution emerged. Yes, she still has enough energy to pull it. Smiling she began to trace a circle around the dagger with her Kris. Unlike the spells she used during her battle, this particular spell needed a special mental posture and sheer willpower. She quickly traced in her mind the various figures to bring her reasoning process in a hyper-geometric state and focused on the traced circle. Her left hand seized the crystal pendant around her neck and energy flowed from it to empower her spell.

 

“GATE

OPEN!”

 

Her blue eyes glowed with two concentric circles of light as her being was concentrated on her objective. A spatial rift momentarily manifested inside the containing circle. A powerful aspiration drained the ambient air and caught the dagger and the dirt around it in its grip. Elizabeth released her focus and the fracture in the reality shut with a small shockwave. She smirked as she contemplated the difficulty to obtain the dagger now. She had opened her rift in the very proximity of…the Sun. The gravity of the star will do the rest and the obsidian dagger would meet its end in the life-giving celestial body. She laughed as she walked to the nearest exit of the underground maze.

 

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It was almost finished. Chief-inspector David Mulligan sighed as he allowed himself to relax. The tension during the operation has been reinforced for him because he was one of the few persons `in the know' about the real nature of the intervention.

 

The cover story was solid. An anti-smuggler operation organized against a powerful and dangerous group was the first layer of normality. The second layer for the nosy ones was the `incidental' discovery of the kidnappers of some women in the city. A seemingly hushed operation against a sect of illuminated individuals of the high-end class of the society was prepared to mask what it was all about: A victory in the eternal war against the Mythos.

 

David was not a novice in the underground conflict against the alien forces that plagued the earth and now were manifesting in Japan under the codename of `Angel'. His trained eye slipped to the groups of policemen who walked around the secured site to finish the final sweep. Behind the police lines, reporters were snapping the scene in an attempt to catch a scoop. Already three of them have been evicted from the location for trying to sneak in.

 

The underground fire had been extinguished when it ran out of combustibles and now David was cataloguing who among his men would receive a personal debriefing for what they could have witnessed in the main base of this cult. He shivered as the memory of some very specific hieroglyphs flashed in his mind: The crawling Chaos. Even now he didn't dare to properly name it as its corruption could touch him.

 

He sighed as he put his little jewel in his car. The Thompson M1921 or `Tommy Gun' was a gift from his ally. He smiled as he remembered the young girl giving him a violin case at the end of one of their mutual operation and saying that the last owner judged him `decent enough to use his Chicago Typewriter'.

 

<Hello David.>

 

The unexpected mental voice made him bump his head on the ceiling of his car. “Ouch!”

 

<Sorry David. I was not trying to surprise you…again.>

 

He grumbled as he `heard' the laugh hidden in her telepathic voice. `Everything is all right?'

 

<Everything is all right. I'm not hurt and Robert Caster can be officially counted among the dead for this operation. He `accidentally' burned himself alive while attempting to destroy all the proof of his crimes.>

 

`Good. The fire has destroyed everything sensible. Our `normal' experts will have no difficulty to do their work. All the victims have been saved and casualties have been… minimal.'

 

He perceived her mental sigh. <How many?>

 

Damn, she was too perceptive. He always hesitated to bring the 14 years old girl into the `special debriefing' of some of his men.

 

<David we have already discuss on this subject. I know that others can do it but I am the best you have for now.>

 

It was his turn to sigh. `All right. Be there tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight sweetheart.'

 

He `heard' her mental chuckle. <Sweet dreams in fact for both of us. Oh yes, I need some sweet dreams…>

 

Her mental voice seemed to fade as he drove his car to an exit of the site. He knew what she was doing because for some things she was a creature of habit. The veneer of normality was a protection against the harshness of the war. The young girl was now walking to her small bedroom inside White Chapel High School. The staff has been politely `asked' to close their eyes on the nocturnal activities of the golden-mane student and her atrocious string of unjustified absences. Her intellect allowed her to boast a higher degree of education than her school-comrades could imagine, if she wanted to flaunt it. Although she never spoke about it, he `knew' that she has been forced to use her power on her comrades to prevent catastrophic discoveries.

 

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Scotland Yard, London, England, 8 Mars 1947.

 

Inspector Scott Munroe was, in his humble opinion, a good inspector. His `small' arrogance pushed him to think that he was in fact the `best' inspector in Scotland Yard. Why, he had enough `modesty' to not boast about it among his colleagues.

 

Every inspector had a `hobby', a pet project among their work to sharpen their skills and instincts or just for plain fun. The pet project of Inspector Munroe was of course superior to his dear colleagues. It was also something of an obsession. During the last year he witnessed at numerous occasions a school student being admitted to some `hushed' briefings. The cases of those briefings were among the best sources of gossip in the Yard and those who worked on those cases had been rewarded handsomely sometimes by the Royal family.

 

And so Scott had begun to track the blue-eyed girl in order to find what she was doing in Scotland Yard. He had always found the truth in all his cases in the past and there he was against a brick wall. No, it was more a steel wall. Every lead, every morsel of information was only illusions or misdirections. Scott was on the verge of explosion when Dame Fortune found him at last. An anti-smuggler operation led by the eccentric Chief-inspector Mulligan needed men and he subtly, in his humble opinion, inserted himself into it when he heard that the mysterious young girl was at the origin of the operation.

 

He had been almost bursting in joy when he discovered during the approach that the criminal group was also responsible for the kidnapping of several women around the city. He was sure to be promoted and to finally learn the secret of the mysterious girl. He was smiling as he plunged inside the maze of the sewers under the warehouse and then he encountered the truth.

 

He was now in the office of the Chief-inspector attempting to calm his nerves and stopped his trembling. His black hair has gained a streak of white after his face to face with…an undead. He breathed heavily as he remembered the lack of effect of his shots on the putrefied flesh. Only the staccato of the Thompson of the Chief has saved him. He had refused to arm himself with heavy weapons before the mission and he almost paid it with his life. If only his sanity has been preserved also.

 

The interphone buzzed on the desk of David Mulligan. “She's here chief.”

 

“Thank you Margaret. Send her in.”

 

He abruptly turned to the side door of the office. He couldn't help it in his state. The drugs of the medical staff and the soothing words of the Chief about his willingness to help him were not capable of healing completely his mind from the horrors of last night. The sun by the window caught her at her entry. Her blonde hair transformed into an ocean of gold. The contrast was amplified by her severe and grey school uniform and the neatly folded black cloak under her right arm.

 

But it was secondary to her eyes. Piercing blue eyes pinned him to his chair. He felt detached for the first time after last night as she calmly put down her cloak on a chair and smiled to him. It was a sad smile as if she was aware of his ordeal. She was speaking but the words were meaningless as he couldn't detour his gaze from her deep eyes. Slowly the young girl walked to him and took his head between her hands. The freshness of her skin soothed his mind as the blue eyes seemed to reach deeply inside him. She was still speaking but he couldn't gather the energy necessary to understand her.

 

Then like every time he thought about it after the operation his memory returned to his encounter with the undead. It was different this time. He was spectator rather than actor. Some scenes were highlighted and others faded into the shadows of his subconscious. He relived the entire ordeal with a new perspective and he didn't forget anything but it was more…acceptable than before.

 

Finally she let go of him. He blinked as his mental process seemed to begin anew. The clock on the desk caught his regard. His eyes widened as 4 hours seemed to have passed since the beginning of this strange debriefing. He blinked again, confused, to the young girl. Her smile was tired now as if she had done something taxing. She turned to the Chief-inspector.

 

“He is ready now. Be gentle.”

 

Mulligan nodded as the blonde girl took her cloak and exited silently the bureau. Scott turned to his superior who wielded a small smile. His dark grey eyes seemed to encourage his colleague.

 

“Who is she?”

 

Mulligan raised an eyebrow and was amused by the question of the younger man. No questions about what happened to him or what happened last night. No, only about the young girl. “Are you sure you want to know?”

 

“Yes!”

 

There has been no hesitation in the answer of Munroe and honest curiosity rang in it. He could become a redoubtable tracker in the eyes of the Chief-inspector. Such persons were rare especially for the `special operations' of his branch in Scotland Yard. “Her name is Elizabeth Crowley.”

 

“Crowley? Like Aleister Crowley, the mystic before the war?”

 

“She is his grand-daughter.”

 

“Is she anything like his past reputation?”

 

Mulligan frowned. Strange as it was, those who learned about the young girl in the cadre of her occult activities always asked about that.

 

“No, she is not the descendant of `The Wickedest Man in the World'!” Mulligan rose from his chair and looked on the frail silhouette exiting the building from his window. “Let me tell you a story.” He prepared his pipe and gathered his thoughts on the young psychic.

 

“Elizabeth is an orphan. Her father and mother are unknown to the government. Only two organizations know about her origin: The Astrum Argentum created by her grand-father and the Stella Matutina remnant of the order of the Golden Dawn. Since she was 6 years old, those two groups has fought to induct the young girl into their ranks. Due to their mutual interference, she has been exchanged from a foster family to another. Each ones attempting to imprint their doctrines in her and destroying the work of the last family.”

 

He stopped and considered what to tell and what to not reveal now. “Some families were also trying to win her support for their personal goals. Her education has been…rather eclectic.” He turned to Munroe. “To understand her origin, we must go back when Crowley was still a newly inducted member of the original Golden Dawn. During this time, he attempted to sire an heir to his legacy of mysticism. As you rightly think, the ritual was rather…tantric in nature. Her grand-mother was Jeanne Foster, a member of the Golden Dawn. The ritual was a failure and Crowley went to other ventures.”

 

“But some are not in accord with that.”

 

“No. Elizabeth is not the result of this ritual but a CONSEQUENCE. Her potential in the occult is what the two groups are after. Most of the mystic society know about her and recognize her as the heiress of Aleister Crowley.”

 

“And she is not a member of either group?”

 

“No. She always refused to adhere to the doctrine of any type of occult group. But it is only because of the intervention of the Crown since last year that she can finally be useful to society now.”

 

“The Crown directly intervened?”

 

“Yes. And now let's speak about another story. A story about something called the Mythos…”

 

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She felt drained as she took the tube for her school. Those `debriefings' were always the most tiring thing for her after the end of a battle against the Mythos. The human spirit could not endure the mere presence of some entities and races. The modern man was too deeply rooted in his sense of normality to retain his sanity even in encounters with the lesser races of the Mythos.

 

She was better armed than most. Her sorcery coupled to her psychic powers enabled her to heal troubled minds, protected the innocent souls and cover the harsh truth under a soothing amnesia. It was so easy to destroy a mind, a soul and so difficult to heal. She sighed as she reached in the magical pocket of her cloak and withdrew an official document.

 

The department of the U.S. Navy was cordially informing her of her recruitment by NERV to serve the allied forces as the Seventh Children against the `Angels' in Japan. In order to provide NERV with a fully `functional' Children, she was ordered to proceed to a secret location to be tested as the future pilot of EVA-03.

 

She shivered as she reread her orders. EVA-03, the only English unit of tremendous potential against the Mythos and perhaps the end of…her life. Every fibres of her being were screaming to her to NOT take the test. Five days ago, a mental scream reached her from Japan, the piloting of the units punished any failure with…death. And yet, something more powerful than the very instincts she always followed was pushing her to do it.

 

She gazed again on the half of the blood red leaf and whispered the motto of NERV. “God is in Heaven, all is right in the world.” She frowned and a faint light shone in her eyes as she remembered the full poem.

 

`The year's at the spring,

And day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven;

The hill-side's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in his Heaven -

All's right with the world!'