The Nightscape

Hypnotism

The blow sent her staggering forward, pitching her onto her knees as her ears rang and her vision blurred, a low cry ripping free from her throat. As she recovered, breathing heavily and staring at the ground, she felt something warm and wet trickle through her hair, crimson dripping onto the dust. She could hear Anya yelling, but no matter how much she tried to focus, it was too tinny to make out the words. Lyra groaned, retching as her stomach rebelled, bile dripping from her lips as she blinked to keep the darkness in her vision at bay. 

And then there was a hand in her hair, wrenching her head up, and something cold and sharp was pressed against her throat. It began to dig in, blood beading along the length of the blade as the scruffy young woman silently threatened Anya, who had been taking on her partner and doing quite well. She dropped the weapon she held and let him force her to her knees, surrendering to spare her friend's life. 

"Who are you? What clans?" She demanded. Lyra was slowly becoming more aware, though the splitting headache would probably be around for a good few hours, if not days. 

"We're yellow! We're both yellow, I can show you-"

"Summon your powers and you both die, got it, princess?" The man hissed. Anya nodded, struggling to breath without nicking her skin against the blade.

"Alright, alright, I won't. Look, I have some money in my back pocket, you can take that-"

"Who's side are you on?" The woman interrupted. Lyra watched as Anya hesitated, clearly not sure who to pledge to. 

"Answer her!" The man roared, as Anya opened and closed her mouth, words failing her. 

"We work for Hayden!" Lyra blurted out, Anya closing her eyes with fear and sighing silently. The man holding her scowled fiercely, glaring at the two of them with disgust. 

"Hayden's picking up yellows now? How disgusting." The woman spat, saying his name like it was a curse word. Lyra realised that she had made a mistake, and was desperately trying to think of a way out, but the pain lancing through her skull was making it hard for her to think clearly. 

"Maybe we should send him their heads. Warn him away from the temple." The man said with a sick grin, digging his knife into Anya's throat until she whimpered with pain and fear, blood dripping steadily onto her top. 

"Good idea." The woman replied. 

"Stop! You don't need to do this, please!" Lyra begged, her voice taking on a strange timbre that made Anya open her eyes and look at her friend with horror. Their attackers stopped, eyes glazing over slightly. 

"Please, just leave us alone!" She continued, not noticing the effect her words were having on them. To her shock, the knife at her throat was pulled away, the grip on her hair vanishing. The man released Anya, stepping back, and she bolted over to Lyra's side, pulling her to her feet and urging her to back away. Their attackers turned, their movements wooden and forced, and began to walk away. Confused, Lyra looked to her friend. 

"How the hell did that work?" She asked shakily, getting a strange look in response. 

"You don't know? Right, here and now isn't the time and place to have this conversation. Come on, lets get back to the real world and the car, and then we can talk about it." Anya told her, eager to get somewhere safe before it wore off and they came back to kill them. The two of them finished their journey in silence, aside from when Anya spent about five minutes inspecting the land around them with binoculars and then flickering back first to check it was safe. Then, finally, Lyra followed in a blur of violet power, getting into the car and throwing Anya a strange look when she locked the doors.