United Airlines Flight 8879
Monday, 1st October 2007
10:21am
"You don’t look well… you really should take better care of yourself than this," said Kate with a warm smile, stroking her fingers through Galen's short hair before laying a soft kiss on his forehead.
"I know... I will," sighed Galen contentedly, squeezing Kate’s slender hand in his own. He looked at her and smiled. After months of frantic searching he still couldn’t quite believe that he’d managed to track her down. What had he to go on after all? Rumours and speculations about a secret partnership between Jennifer Lawson and some people from The Ministry of Magic in England? Jack’s hackneyed explanation about the aforementioned organisation? It hadn’t been much.
Yet here they were, together again, as though none of that had ever taken place. As they glided through the sky towards Los Angeles, Galen raised Kate’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly before leaning into her and rubbing the edge of his nose against her cheek. Galen sighed again as he surrounded himself in the intoxicating scent of her hair and perfume. She smelled so good, like rose water and vanilla with a soothing musky undertone. He’d missed that scent so badly.
"And once we get back home and I let everyone know that you're safe and well, we'll take a break somewhere, just the two of us... I think we need it."
Kate smiled, continuing to comb her fingers through Galen's hair. "I never doubted for one minute that you wouldn't come and rescue me. Even when I was all alone... I felt you with me."
Her soft hands stroked against Galen's jaw, drawing him towards her. Kate smiled again, such a warm, radiant smile that sent a slight flutter of longing through Galen's stomach. She leaned forwards and kissed him then, her soft, full lips exploring the contours of his mouth.
"I missed you so much," she whispered quietly between kisses, "but I knew... I knew you’d come…"
"Sir? Sir? We've landed Sir..."
Galen awoke with a start, opening his eyes to see an awkward looking stewardess hovering just above him, gently shaking his shoulder.
"Sir, we've landed..." the woman repeated again, straightening up. She already held the man's threadbare backpack in her hands in a silent gesture of annoyance that said 'please get the hell off my plane now, and have a nice day!'
Galen coughed gruffly, an affliction he'd picked up from spending too many nights sleeping rough in the back of cars, ditches and even the occasional doorway. "Sorry I... I must have fallen asleep."
"Hmmm," said the stewardess circumspectly, helping Galen up from his cramped seat while also trying her best not to touch him at the same time. It wasn’t that he smelled, in fact he smelled surprisingly pleasant considering, it was just the way he looked. Kind of like a cross between a tramp and a hippie relic from Woodstock – all beard and long hair and weathered, dirty looking skin. God only knew how he managed to score himself a business class ticket on one of their premier flights – probably saved up forty years worth of coupons from boxes of pudding.
"Well... enjoy your stay in Los Angeles," she said with mock cheer, leading Galen up the rows of seats and towards the door. As he stumbled down the walkway she turned to one of her work colleagues and sighed. "God help me, if I get another of those travelling hobo types I'm quitting!"
****
“Actually… I think I like it,” smiled Kate, tugging on thick growth of bristly dark hair that covered Galen’s chin and jaw. She sat atop of his luggage as he pushed the trolley through the airport; one leg tucked up under her chin, the other swinging free like a child. “You know? It makes you look, ummm, what’s the word? …………Rugged.”
“You’re just saying that,” laughed Galen as he steered the metal cart around a group of students returning from a later summer break. “Darling, I’ve seen myself in the mirror, it’s okay, I know I look like Karl Marx.”
Kate giggled, sitting up straighter on the stack of luggage and holding Galen’s face in both her hands. With her fingers she stroked through the short, stubbly length of his beard. “Hmmm, I’d say more like Tom Selleck or… Peter the Great – both major hotties with a fondness for facial hair.”
“Don’t get too attached, soon as we get home this is seeing the sharp end of a Mach3.”
“Oh thank Gaia!” laughed Kate, clapping her hands together happily before suddenly turning serious. “I mean, not that I couldn’t have gotten used to it…”
Galen smiled. “Oh, of course not.”
“But the stubble rash…”
“I understand completely,” said Galen, his grin broadening as he leaned over the handlebar and stole a quick kiss from his wife. “Consider it gone.”
“Now the hair…” Kate hopped down from the trolley.
Galen halted the cart and ran a hand through his hair. It had grown considerably in the past two months, so long and unruly that it fell into his eyes constantly and tickled the back of his neck. “That too? Anyone would think you aren’t pleased to see me!”
“Oh you know I am,” smiled Kate, leaning over Galen’s shoulder. “Besides, I’ve always liked long hair on men…” she said, running her fingers through the thick length, “it’s very… sensual.”
Galen closed his eyes and grinned, enjoying the feel of Kate’s fingers against his scalp and the back of his neck. “If you say so,” he murmured quietly.
Suddenly Galen felt a cool chill on his skin and he opened his eyes abruptly. He no longer felt Kate’s fingers working through his hair and he spun around sharply, his eyes anxiously searching the crowds as he realised she’d vanished.
Jack had just managed to bustle his way into the arrival gate, plunging into the sea of bodies that struggled to hold onto bags and crying toddlers. He checked his watch, he was a little late what with the early morning traffic but he’d just double-checked with the arrivals board and Galen’s flight had only landed about forty minutes ago. Being the seasoned traveller that he was, Jack knew that it could sometimes take over an hour just to get through baggage claim, never mind immigration.
"Galen!” he shouted as he saw his son in law searching the crowds. When he didn’t seem to hear, Jack shouldered his way through groups of weary travellers and excited holidaymakers. “Galen? Galen!” shouted Jack again, coming up behind him. Still he seemed to be searching the crowds.
Jack patted him on the back, “Galen, are you okay?” he asked, smiling as the young man seemed to finally rouse himself – probably the shock of arriving home. Galen’s mouth cracked into a weary grin.
“Jack… hi, thanks for coming.”
“My god,” laughed Jack awkwardly as he helped his son-in-law pick up his luggage before heading towards the car park. “I barely recognised you with the beard and everything.”
“Yeah…” agreed Galen absently, his eyes still flitting around the airport, his head suddenly turning every time he thought he caught a glimpse of red hair. “I… I need a shave.”
Jack watched Galen carefully as they headed to the car, noting how lost and distant he seemed. He’d sounded as much on the telephone last week, that’s why Jack had insisted that he come home, catch the first flight back to L.A and they would think of something else to do, some other way of finding Kate. Eventually, he’d managed to convince Galen to do just that, but it hadn’t been easy. Convincing a man that he had to concede defeat, even a small defeat, never was.
Securing the luggage in the back of the car, Galen paused to light a cigarette, breathing in the fresh Los Angeles air. He’d dreamed of this moment for months, the day that he would return home… but in his dreams he always had Kate by his side.
Absently he flicked ash on the concrete floor, “I… I didn’t find her Jack,” he said quietly, his face slowly crumbling with emotion. He leaned back against the car, rubbing his hands over his face. “All that time… I tried, God I tried but… she was depending on me Jack, I was supposed to find her!”
Though he had never been one to openly display his emotions, Jack took Galen into his arms like the son he’d never had and held him close. “I know, I know,” he said softly, “you did what you could, it was all anyone could have done.”
“But I failed her, I let her down,” mumbled Galen quietly, his voice edged with all the pain and loneliness that he’d felt ever since the night he’d set off to find his wife. It had been a fool’s errand, he could see that now. In all his searching he’d not found one piece of evidence that he could hold up to refute the LAPD’s insistence that Kate had died in the fire that had taken down the station house. Nor had he uncovered the truth concerning Jennifer Lawson and her orders to initiate Operation Desdemona. And finally, he’d discovered nothing that could implicate or even suggest that the Ministry of Magic had any hand in the disappearance of either Lawson or his wife.
And yet… despite the lack of evidence or any tangible proof Galen knew… he knew unequivocally that Kate was still out there somewhere. It was a feeling, a feeling so strong and deep inside of him like the beat of his heart.
Loosening his hold on his son-in-law, Jack patted him gently on the back, opening the car door and helping him inside. “It’s okay Galen,” he said kindly, “it’s okay son, lets just go home.”
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Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Monday, 1st of October, 2007
5:23 PM Local Time
Somewhere in Antarctica
Freezing winds whipped across the ice covered land, billowing the cloak of the only individual in a 100 mile radius. Normally, only highly specialized research teams could venture this far out into the Antarctic, and such a journey was dangerous for an entire group, let alone one person. Of course, this was no ordinary person.
With purpose, the figure strode across the unforgiving terrain, making their way to what seemed like two ordinary pillars of ice. It had been countless ions since anyone knowing the true importance of this location walked the Earth, they had all vanished into the sands of time…all save one.
As the lone figure reached the base of the pillars, a smile crept across the face hid deep beneath the cloak. Words long forgotten mixed with the whistling of the wind as ancient magic cascaded around the figure and seeped into the ice covered ground. Slight tremors began and the ice underfoot melted into a steep staircase leading deep into the Earth. Pausing no longer, the figure hiked up the base of their cloak, and carefully made their way down…down…..down.
It must have been close to thirty minutes before the cloak shrouded individual took the last step, finally settling into a small chamber. The room was dark, save for the soft, blue illumination of glowing glyphs which lit up a large arched doorway at the edge of the room.
Completely at ease, the figure strode towards the door, not even faltering when the glyphs changed from their soft blue to an aggressive red. They continued walking when suddenly, beams of powerful magic exploded from the runes, aimed directly at the trespasser.
With but a thought, the beams bounced harmlessly away, leaving the figure a free passage to the huge door. Glove covered hands paused on the thick wood of the entrance. “Reveal to me your secret.”
The door responded with a loud creak. Ice and snow broke free from the hinges as the door swung open.
Behind the threshold was another chamber, much bigger than the first, with hundreds of torches lining the walls of the circular room. At the center of the chamber were two huge pillars of ice, much like the ones high above. Attached to each tower of ice was a long chain of metal which served as restraints for the forsaken individual shackled between them. This is what they had come for.
As it had been for thousands of years, a strong, muscled, naked man stood imprisoned between the two columns, his chains clinking as he shivered in the cold.
“Who has entered this forsaken chamber?” the man asked, lifting his head slightly to turn closed eyes to the intruder. “Am I to hope you have come to help? No, He has sentenced me to rot here till Kingdom Come. Thus you must be here to punish me further.”
“Be silent and listen,” the cloaked figure said quietly, yet assertively. “I have indeed come to aid you, oh fallen one, come to free you from your prison.” The mysterious individual slowly moved forwards until they were standing right before the naked man.
“Free me? Whoever you are, you waste your time. You are not of the heavenly court, that I can sense, and thus you cannot break these chains. So leave me now, stranger, away with you so I may lament in peace.”
“For one who used to deliver miracles, dear Orus you have a rather pessimistic view,” the figure chuckled, bringing its hands up to the man’s temples. “You may be blind, fallen angel, but I know you can see what I am clear enough.”
The man gasped suddenly as the figure’s gloved hands stroked his face, recoiling back in a mixture of anxiety and confusion. “You…you’re one of the..”
“I said be silent!” the figure cut him off quickly. “Speak no further least you jeopardize me and your freedom.”
Once sure that the fallen angel would not speak its true identity, the figure moved its attention to the long chains. “Be free.” As if made of the plentiful ice all around, the metal chains melted away.
“I…I’m free,” Orus said calmly, yet surprised.
“You are free, but at a price,” the mysterious benefactor pointed out quickly. “You are to come to the city of Angels and help me.”
Orus listened carefully as the shrouded helper explained the terms of his release. It sounded easy enough, though still he felt that he needed to proceed with caution.
“And if I decline?”
“Then I rebind you and you rot here till Judgment Day.”
“And easy decision”
“I knew you would think so.” Once again the figure smiled behind the cover of its large cloak as it revealed a black and silver mace previously hidden in its overly large sleeves.
“You have my mace” Orus said, sensing his most treasured and powerful weapon.
“Consider it a welcome back present.” Handing over the mace, the figure then turned its back to the angel. “Go to Los Angelus. Once there I will contact you with further information,” and with that, the figure disappeared into nothingness.
6:54 PM
From deep within the Earth, a lone figure made its way from the mysterious stairwell, which closed up the second it stepped out onto the cold snow and ice. Suddenly, the already faint and soft light of the twilight hour seemed to dim as a black flaming halo appeared above the man’s head. Two enormous, bone and black feathered wings sprung forth from his bare back; for the first time in over a millennia the fallen angel took to the air.
Orus the fallen was free.
Featuring Julian McMahon as Orus the Fallen
Irrevokable Bonds
The Eldridge House - 67 Birch Street, Los Angeles
Monday, 1st October 2007
12:09pm
Arriving home, Jack led his son-in-law into the living room and sat him down, easing the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. He looked like the kind of half-starved scraps often found sleeping on park benches or curled up beneath railway bridges – desperately underweight and in need of both a good bath and a decent meal.
“After this I’ll fix you something to eat,” said Jack matter of factly as he helped Galen out of his parka and folded it up in his arms. “You look terrible you know? You really should take better care of yourself.”
Galen smiled morosely, “that’s what she said,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over the coating of rough stubble on his jaw. “She’s alive you know,” said Galen blankly, looking up at Jack with eyes that were hollow and weary but nevertheless still fixed with unmistakable determination. “Kate’s alive Jack.”
Sitting down beside him, Jack patted his son-in-law on the back gently. More than anything else in the world he wanted to believe him, to believe that his daughter could still be out there after all this time. “How can you be so certain?” he asked quietly, “Galen I want her to be alive, of course I do but… it’s been over two months since the night of the fire and that body – the one found in Kate’s cell, its still not been identified.”
Jack was silent, waiting for Galen to answer. Instead his son-in-law removed a small bundle from his backpack and slowly unravelled it, setting several items out on the coffee table in front of him.
“I carried these things around with me… everywhere I went. And every evening I’d take them out, like I’m doing now, and set them on the ground of wherever I was and…” Galen sighed, looking at the make-shift altar that he’d created in devotion to his wife. At the centre lay her wedding rings – the Chief had given them to him at the station after the fire, along with Kate’s other personal affects that had been removed upon her incarceration.
Galen picked up the wedding band and held it between his thumb and forefinger so that he could read the inscription on the inside. “Amor te in hac vita et ultraque…” he recited quietly, “I love thee in life and beyond.”
Looking up at Jack, Galen replaced the ring on a folded cashmere scarf that also belonged to his wife, and was still imbedded with her distinctive perfume – sweet and musky with hints of jasmine. “When Kate and I married we pledged ourselves to each other and our bond was bound by earth and water, by the laws that created fire and wind, in this life and beyond. We were made as one.”
Galen shook his head. “People with that kind of bond… they can’t just be separated. I feel her inside of me, Jack,” he said intensely, “She’s alive. I know she is.”
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Tuesday, 31st July 2007
11:44pm Local Time
Mikhail coughed painfully and kicked the heavy snow from his boots, his breath erupting from his mouth like a flurry of engine steam in the cold night air. Removing a thick fur mitten, he stood in the shelter of the entranceway and pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner by the door. Stomping his feet against the solid, ice coated earth, Mikhail coughed again and smiled as the security light switched from red to green.
“Privet Doctor Dubrovskiy,” intoned the guard as the door opened, “dobroy nochi?.” (1)
“Da, neploho spasibo,” (2) nodded Mikhail, tucking his security card back into his pocket after holding it up for the man to see. Coughing again in response to the warmer air temperature inside the building, Mikhail walked the length of security scanners that made up the main corridor before entering one of the many elevators that flanked the far wall.
A row of luminous buttons lit up the control panel inside, Mikhail removed his security card again, inserting it into the digitised reader and leaning forwards to allow his eye to line up against the retina scanner. “Doctor Mikhail Dubrovskiy, Sciagic Team #241,” he announced briskly, his crisp Russian accent clipping his vowels and rolling over his consonants with a melodic quality.
The row of buttons lit up as the elevator began to move, a few seconds later the doors opened again with a soft, almost inaudible swoosh.
Mikhail walked briskly through the maze of sanitised corridors, nodding at the various white coats that passed him. It was a curious project that he was a part of, far removed from the usual run-of-the-mill genetic and genome experiments that he was used to. Even just being here, the infamous Dvorec Nizheq Sneg – Palace Beneath the Snow, in the heart of coldest Siberia with nothing but vast snowy plains and an immense, desolate wasteland of ice surrounding them… even that was mind blowing.
Slipping out of his furs and into his white lab coat, Doctor Dubrovskiy recalled his arrival at Dvorec Nizheq Sneg. The building itself was concealed beneath a field of magic as dense and impenetrable as any barrier that could be imagined. Yet he had often heard it said that, when the skies cleared and the sun reflected off the snow at just the right angle, a passer-by might just be able to catch a glimpse of those fabled blue and grey towers as they reached up high towards the mountain peaks of Siberia.
“How is our patient doing today?” Mikhail enquired in disjointed English as he entered the main laboratory and picked up his charts.
Wiping a stray lock of chestnut hair from her face, Dr Jillian Lennon rose from her console and gestured towards the two-way mirror that displayed the occupant of Treatment Room 12. “A-as you can see,” she stammered uneasily, “the subject remains sedated, I adjusted her IV’s this morning and there’s been a marked improvement in alpha activity.”
Dubrovskiy glanced through the mirror and mumbled an incomprehensible response, flipping through the chart one more time. “Da, da…” he handed the file over to Jillian and smiled briefly. “Ochen’ harasho, very good Doctor Lennon. Carry on. I’ll call by tomorrow, usual time.”
As Dubrovskiy lumbered on, Jillian sank back into her chair with a sigh. Slowly her eyes gravitated towards the two-way and the room’s occupant - a pale, slender young woman with a cascade of scarlet curls. For the moment she lay unconscious, heavily medicated and hooked up to several machines which monitored her vitals.
Jillian’s face crumbled in dismay as she watched the woman. “Oh Kate…” she said softly, raising her hand and placing it upon the glass. “Kate… I’m so sorry…”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
1. “Hello Doctor Dubrovskiy, good night?”
2. “Yes, not bad thanks.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 1st, 2007
8:30 pm
Central Park, New York
“Na nana na na” Inés hummed as she almost run towards the big platform that had been built near the lake and over it. The hard wood boards sounded hollow under her heels, and they vibrated in accordance to the music. A big – Glen Miller like – orchestra played in the farthest part of the dance floor and a myriad of colourful bulbs shone above them and under the dark sky. It wasn't cold, autumn was just starting and people were enjoying the night. Half a hundred couples were already dancing to the sound of ‘Moonlight Serenade’, and Inés laughed back over her shoulder to her companion. “Come on, Connor, or it’ll end! I love this song.”
James just smiled, but hurried his pace anyway, taking her waist the moment they reached the dance floor and gyrating her with ease into his arms. Inés’ arms lifted and entwined around his neck as they started to follow the music.
“Na nana na na… We can stay till break of day, In love’s valley of dreams,” she sang again, this time into his ear. She felt his hands grab her strongly, pulling her close and she smiled, pressing her body to his and just dancing; happy. She closed here eyes and soon the world comprised to them both and the music moving them. She loved this man, and he loved her. It seemed her life was finally getting somewhere. Nothing could go wrong now.
James moved with the music, just holding Inés close. He hated this sort of dancing, but he did it to keep Inés happy, not like the music he had in his day…*God, I am old*, he thought. “Remember: just to the break of day, any later and your boyfriend will become a human torch “
As the song died down James made a break for it, but was pulled back so quickly he nearly had whip lash, and he laughed. He knew the next song: ‘Cheek to cheek.’ “I actually like this song,” he said.
He smiled to Inés and gave her a kiss on the cheek “I’ve never smiled so much with anyone else in my life,” he whispered under his breath, sure that she had heard him.
Ever since they had left Los Angeles everything had gone right for them. James thought of his friend Darlome, who was healthy again studying hard trying to find a cure to Vince’s newly found powers. The demon was close to finding a solution, and he was in love with a great woman. *Nothing can go wrong,* thought James, as he happily danced away.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
**Flashback**
Monday, 20 August 2007
5:35 AM - Roswell, New Mexico
Benji and Julia in:
"Severed Veins Part 3 - Cut Loose"
Guest-starring Michael Weatherly as Achilles
Dust swept along the dry desert town of Roswell, and two young vampires strolled down the empty sidewalk. "What else did he say to you…the Host, I mean? Back in Vegas…" Benji asked his companion Julia after much thought and silence. He'd been waiting for some time to ask--for days, even--but had always ignored off every opportunity to do so.
"He said that I was in a good place right now," she revealed with a calm smile and a weak sigh. "And I guess, even after Rose died, and Tash…and Walter." She turned to Benji nervously. "I guess even after all that's happened I'm recovering nicely."
Benji nodded and kicked a small piece of litter away as they walked. "Oh? Yeah. That's good."
Several feet behind them, someone treaded lightly.
"What about you?" Julia said curiously, brushing her wavy red hair behind her ear.
"Me?" Benji asked. He was suddenly caught off guard, even though he thought she'd ask. "Oh, it was nothing huge."
"Well, this is the first time you wanted to speak about it since we left Nevada. I'm just surprised is all."
"It's been like a week. Just need some time to process," Benji explained. "Never had my fortune done. The Host told me that something was coming into my life that would, I dunno, change everything, maybe. No big deal."
"Yes, big deal! Benj, the man just told you you're life is gonna change!" Julia did a happy hop. A small step was heard behind them. Julia glanced back--she saw no one, but still…she knew one was there.
"Lemme just kill this guy and then we'll pick this up in a moment," Julia said, touching Benji's arm. Leaping back, Julia reached into a shadowy back street between two buildings and pulled out a tall, fit, blond man. "Hello there!" Julia greeted, her face transforming.
Benji broke into a gradual jog as he approached Julia. "What did you catch there, Jules?"
She grabbed the man's neck and shoved him further into the alley. "Well, call it what you will, but I think I just caught dinner!" She giggled maniacally.
Even Benji smiled. "You know what? I ain't hungry, 'cause I'm, like, never hungry, but I really feel like eating this dork…"
The man pulled away, adjusted his glasses, and peered bravely through the wire-rims. "You're…not from around here, right?" he asked objectively.
Benji tilted his head. "So what's that matter? Just a town, like any other!"
The man smirked. "Not like every other." Suddenly, delicately sharpened wrist-stakes popped from his long sleeves. "Vamps don't feed in my town," he whispered before leaping at Julia with full force.
"Shit!" Julia screamed.
"Interesting," Benji remarked, taking a step back from the brawl.
Julia almost dodged the man, but his steel-toed boot caught her in the shin, fracturing it. She staggered back, limping mostly on one leg. "Tag," she called, tapping Benji's chest. Licking his lips, Benji jumped into the fray in her stead.
From the side, Benji leaped in and knocked the man in the jaw, sending him back into the darkness. "Vamps don't feed? That's some bunch of fascist crap!" He lurched forwards, leaning into a spinning kick to the man's stomach. "Buddy, this is America!"
"Yeah--like you have rights," the man spat, holding his wound with one arm and swinging his stake with the other. The swing nicked Benji's chest, but he'd leapt back to avoid most of the damage.
Benji rolled his eyes. "Maybe we'll suck this town dry, man, since you pushed me to it. We'll start with you!"
"We'll stop you," the attacker threatened hoarsely.
Benji raised his arms out to his sides, inviting an attack. "Yeah? You and what--"
"ARMY!" Julia screamed. An olive drab Humvee rolled up just as streaks of morning light peeked through the buildings.
Benji snapped his head to see the vehicle, the dashed to Julia's side. "C'mon!" he beckoned. He took Julia's hand and pulled her away from the scene as the car unloaded with a pair of dark-suited individuals. As Julia began to lag behind Benji threw her over his back, scrambled atop a stopped garbage truck, and jumped to a low rooftop. More harmful rays shot across the taller roofs, and Benji dodged them where he could. About a block away, he ran out of shade.
"Is that…burning?" Benji asked hurriedly, sniffing the dewy air.
"That's ME burning!" Julia whined as she rode piggy-back behind him. Her shirt had burst into flames by now. Up ahead, Benji spotted an early-morning road crew, fixing some gas-lines in the sewers. Benji hopped off the roof and hit the street running. He ran past the frightened crewmembers with a burning girl on his back, and a moment later vanished into the open manhole.
Their attacker trotted out of the alley and waved to the man and woman at the car. "Are you okay, agent?" the woman asked.
The man nodded. "Vampires," he replied breathlessly. He leaned against the Humvee's hood to regain poise.
"Beat your ass pretty good," the man at the car cracked.
"Should we pursue?" the woman asked hesitantly.
"No." The blond man shook his head. "Get me the radio." Grabbing the walkie-talkie, he called in to his superiors. "Achilles to base command. Come in…"
A sultry voice answered on the other end. "Acknowledged, Achilles. This is Majestic. What's your situation?"
"Two vampires. They got away…"
The Majestic 12 operator clicked her tongue. "These aren't the vamps you're looking for," she sighed. "Come in to base…something bigger is passing through here…popping up all over the area. You'll be briefed in one hour. Majestic out."
"Achilles out," the agent replied. He turned to the man that had come in the vehicle. "Handle any witnesses," he commanded, pointing to the street. The agent walked off and Achilles pushed his glasses up on his nose.
He slid into the passenger's seat as the woman prepared to drive. "Something…bigger?" Achilles asked, turning to the driver. "I don't get it."
"Something new," she explained. "It's here, there. All over town."
"Demonic?" Achilles asked.
"Yes, definitely."
"Is it evil?" Achilles inquired, gently touching his bruised jaw.
The driver woman gave him a suspicious look. "Said it was demonic, didn't I? Of course it's evil." She put the pedal down and sped off to the base. Achilles didn't appreciate her tone.
Some distance away, in the dank Roswell sewer system, Benji and Julia sat in a stream of disgusting liquid.
"I HATE NEW MEXICO!" Julia screamed, smashing her first into the water repeatedly with much splashing. "I want to go to the first one! I want to go to Old Mexico!"
Benji considered her words silently, signaled his approval, then turned to face Julia with bulging cheeks. From his mouth, a sharp jet of sewage sprayed all over her. As she screamed and gagged, Benji wiped his mouth with a long sleeve, smiling secretly.
Tuesday, 23 August 2007
7:50 PM - The Border of Mexico (y'know…"Old Mexico")
"This is more like it," Julia said, surveying the arid landscape from the van's rear windows, illuminated in twilight.
"Pretty hot, even at night," Benji remarked plainly. "Nice, I guess."
"Nice? Benji sweetie this place is gorgeous!" Julia stood and steadied herself as Benji pulled the van around to a large open area. Two cats scrambled around her feet.
"I guess," Benji chimed with a playful ho-hum groan. The sound of approaching feet rumbled closer. "All right, Jules…throw open the doors. As Julia did, her limited view expanded to see a panorama of people, running and carrying rudimentary satchels of their only belongings.
Instinctively Julia gestured to several that neared the vehicle. Benji leaned in between the seats and called emphatically. "Andale! Venga!" He encouraged them. "Vaminos, muchachos!"
A handful jumped in the van and Julia closed the doors behind them eagerly. Benji forced the pedal and drove away from the scene.
"God blesses you," a middle-aged man thanked the vamps in broken English. "You are a miracle!"
"Well, maybe a little," Julia shrugged affably. Instantly she bared her fangs.
"Ay! Vampiros!" an old woman cried.
"Yeah," Julia scoffed. "Chalupa to you too." She fed as Benji steered them to a quiet part of the desert.
9:50 PM
After Julia got her fill, Benji had a little sip since he didn't need as much. As they both reclined lazily in the back of the van, using the strewn bodies of the drained immigrants for their pillows, Benji turned to Julia. "So, we'll see some more of the area before we go. But where do you think you wanna head next?"
Julia caressed Bird with one hand and danced her fingers across Benji's belly with the other. "I bet San Francisco's nice." Benji raised a small ball over his chest and shook it. "Will it work upside down?
Benji mocked her slightly and grunted as he sat up. Shaking the ball again, this time right-side up, he asked it. "Should we go to San Francisco?"
"DEFINITELY," the ball replied agreeably.
Benji turned to Julia as she stroked the cats. "Then where? C'mon…" he nudged her.
"That…Sunnydale place you said was nice," she replied resolutely.
"Yeah. Should we go to that?"
He shook it. The words didn't turn up immediately. "YES."
"Looks like we've got the our next two spots picked out." With a sigh he dropped back down to the van floor. "Some journey, huh?"
Julia set Bird down and let the cat leave. She clasped her fingers together on her stomach. "I just love it, Benji. I really do. It's so romantic…it's just the thing we needed."
"Romantic?" Benji asked with a slight hint of panic.
"Benji…I've just got to say this. I think I'm in love with ya."
Benji stared unaffectedly at the van ceiling. "Vampires can't love, Julia. It's probably a reflex, left over from your human days. It'll pass, I suppose."
"Now you sound like that Nazi from Roswell," Julia retorted. "But it's not soooo hard to believe, Benj! We've been hanging out for a while now…you don't love me?" She was more than a little hurt.
"I don't love, PERIOD." Benji replied. He grinned, almost sadly. "I can't. I don't think I ever loved anything in my whole human life. I very likely can't start now."
"Try," Julia said abruptly, turning onto her right side to face away from the other vampire. Staring at the back of the passenger's seat, Julia continued. "You say we can't love, us vamps, but I think in some ways maybe we can love better than anyone."
"That's an odd way of looking at it," Benji muttered, placing his hands behind his head.
"Yeah, see humans have all this other stuff that gets in the way. They're little mortal jobs, their mortal concerns. We don't have it, Benji! And hey--we always have something in common." She poked the body she was using as a cushion. "We live apart from society, so we have more time to focus on…well, among other things, love."
"You're very childish to think that way," Benji thought. "But your very idealistic. I wish I had that--conviction."
"Take a moment. Digest. Then we'll hit the road again," he suggested, rising from the floor and stepping over Julia to the driver's seat. He eased into position, tilting his head back to rest on the seat. He playfully flicked the dangling key-chain, still plugged into the ignition, then heard a thump and a creak from the back of the van. The doors had been swung wide open. The two cats (both Bird and the prize from Las Vegas) stared into the Mexican night sky, but Julia was no longer inside.
"Julia," Benji called calmly, leaving the van. "What are you doing?"
"I want to see Mexico. Just kinda feel like doing it alone right now." She didn't even turn back to him when she replied; she only kept moving away.
"What? Julia don't pout! God, you're such a…" He held his tongue. "This is all 'cause of what I said, isn't it?"
Julia stopped finally and spun. "You made me realize that what I really need some alone time. Between you…and Walt…I don't think I've ever been on my own since high school. I think that this is what I need now."
Benji shouted after her. "What about the cats? Have you even thought about them?"
"Take care of them for me." Julia headed deeper into the desert. "I'll meet you in San Francisco. One month from today." Benji watched her leave, then headed back to the van. He'd see her again in one month. Benji shrugged. No reason to worry. No reason at all.
Sunday, September 23 2007
11:00 PM - Downtown San Francisco
Benji and Julia in:
"Severed Veins Part 4 - Something Wicked"
**Flashback**
The piers echoed with the loading and unloading of cargo at eleven o'clock. Trucks would come and go, but the tall silent ship stayed still, not ready yet for its voyage to Japan, or China, or wherever. Benji thought of China, of Joy and his parents. If he ever saw them again, he knew he'd have to kill them. But they were far away now, and besides--he had other business now. He leaned against the van, still warm from travel. It was formerly gray-blue, now painted black. Benji wondered if Julia would like the change. He wondered if she would show at all.
"The docks, Benji?" a voice from behind the van whispered. "How…sentimental."
"Back in LA…the docks were your first kill," Benji answered back, staring straight ahead at the passing ships.
"You remembered!" Julia squealed with delight as she revealed herself.
Benji shook his head and bit his lip. "It was nothing."
"I think it is something," Julia protested. "Didn't think you would have cared, or even remembered." She peeked in the back windows of the van. "How're the cats?"
Benji moved from the side of the van and pulled open the doors. "Good. Started 'em drinking human blood. Just, you know, little bits at first. The new one really likes it," Benji stated.
"That's the one I named Wally," Julia pointed out. "Oh, you're such a good daddy, Benji! Isn't he?" she asked the cats.
"Ugh. That's creepy," Benji shuddered. "Um, how was Mexico?"
"Muy bueno," Julia gushed. "Mexican vamps are surly, though."
"That's stereotyping, Jules."
"Nuh-uh! Not if I saw it with my own eyes." She petted Bird and Wally as she recounted her travels. "What about you? How'd ya like it?"
"Actually," Benji started, "I didn't stay long. A day or two after you left, I came to San Francisco. Just…in case you decided to show up early." He scratched his neck and looked away.
"Aww!" Julia swooned. "So sweet! You were that eager to see me, eh?"
Benji pointed to the object between the two front seats. "It really wasn't up to me," he confessed.
Julia crossed her arms and stepped back. "Oh. Of course," she responded sullenly. "The ever-present eight-ball once again serves as your guide." Julia muttered to herself. "Like it'd kill you to think for yourself for once."
"Don't judge me," Benji grunted, glaring at her disgustedly.
A swift object passed between the two, imbedding itself in the van's door with a ping. It looked to be an arrow, but much thicker--it was the bolt from a crossbow. "Great," Julia gasped as she threw her arms up. "Just what this happy little reunion needed: an ambush…"
"It's the Agency!" Benji shoved Julia closer to the van and peered around the docks. "We'd better leave. Now. I've been ducking those people since I got here…they're some sort of monster-hunting jerks." He pushed Julia into the van and slammed the doors shut behind her as a few vampire hunters emerged from their hiding places. Benji hurriedly opened his driver's side door, which received a small volley of bolts from his attackers.
One hunter got close enough to the van to smash a rear window with his fist. "Damn! These people are relentless!" She lifted her foot and smashed the assailant's arm away beneath her sneaker.
"They're crawling all over this city," Benji declared, kicking his vehicle into drive. "And you're right: they won't give up until we're dust." He veered away from the edge of the peer, slamming into a hunter running alongside the van. The hunter flailed as he fell in the cool water, but more hunters attacked the car from a distance.
"This is as bad as Roswell," Julia observed, doing her best to keep her head down."
"I think…I think they're totally obsessed," Benji groaned. Leaving one hand on the wheel he plucked an arrow from the door with his free hand. "Get a life!" he shouted at one cross-bow-wielding foe before hurling the stray bolt in her direction. It impaled her arm as the van sped off, but Benji could tell that it wasn't a kill shot. He shrugged--he'd have to practice his aim.
Both of his hands squeezed around the steering wheel, his back rigid and tense. He deftly maneuvered his way to the main streets and away from the Agency troops. "Back on schedule," he said glibly to Julia.
"Why were they all gung-ho? Like that guy in New Mexico, too. What in the world possesses them to fight for their crappy mortal existence?"
Benji stretched his neck and breathed tiredly. "I don't know. I guess they're just dedicated to goodness and life. People good, demons bad."
"They're just as ruthless as we are, with the way they wipe us all out," Julia added.
Benji shook his head. "They're just more dedicated, I guess. Devoted to their cause." He smirked. "Willing to die for these things they believe in."
Julia sank to the vibrating van floor. "You don't think like that?"
Benji leaned back in his seat as he raced cross-town traffic. "Heh. All causes are equally insipid, all fanatics equally misguided. So no, I don't think that giving yourself over entirely to one cause is the thing to do."
"Oh," Julia said. She slid into a position near her the center of the floor. "Maybe you should. I think it's about time to believe in something like that." The rest of the ride out of San Francisco was very quiet.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, October 2 2007
1:00 AM - The Sunnydale Crater
Introducing Vespajan
**The Present**
The van rumbled down the highway, around the large road-block, up to the wire fences. Its driver, the vampire Benji Law, put the vehicle in park and turned to the passenger behind him. Julia huddled up in the back with two cats, but set them down when Benji called to her.
"This is it, Jules," Benji announced. "They call it Sunnydale…or what used to be Sunnydale." He snickered. "The name just screams 'bite me', doesn't it?"
Julia set down the two cats, both the soft black one she'd had for over a month and the new one from a few weeks ago--a small, scrappy-looking brown cat. "C'mere Bird," she called to the black cat. "You and Wally play while me and Benji look around." She slid out of the back of the van and skipped up to Benji. "Where the Hell is the place?" she asked, placing a hand on Benji's back.
"Hell is right," Benji cracked. As the two approached chain-link fence Julia saw beyond. There was barren land ahead, almost a desert, though there was some construction in the distance. "So, the place just, what? Sank into the ground?" Benji asked himself. He clutched the fence, then in one swift motion flung himself up over the top of it. "C'mon," he motioned to Julia, and a second later she joined him.
"It' quiet here," Julia commented as she crossed the barren moonlit landscape. "Kinda nice. Much better than San Francisco." She glowered at Benji.
Benji threw up his hands apologetically. "Yeah, yeah! San Fran was a bust. And who knew the place would be crawling with vampire hunters? Seriously…the place is like a no-go zone for the evil undead! But hey--the eight-ball told us 'Definitely', so of course we had to check it out."
"Oh, Benji," Julia said, shaking her head in disappointment that was only slightly exaggerated. "You and your magic eight-ball. Sometimes I think you love that…that toy more than me!" She pretended to sob.
"Heh…you're right," Benji taunted, which earned him a slap in the arm. "After Las Vegas--where you couldn't throw a corpse without hitting someone--and San Francisco--where an army of demon killers greets you as soon as you cross the city limits--this is nice. No people, which isn't a problem for me. And there's a good sense of…history, I guess. I don't know. Nice to be the only undead thing for miles…"
Benji Law wondered if he had spoken too soon. Over a small mound of dirt sat a strange figure--a bare-chested man with his head and legs wrapped in a dark shroud. He seemed to be in a trance, or meditating or something, but he sat cross-legged in the sand. On closer inspection, there was something even odder about the man. His skin was blue. For a long moment, Benji paused and stared at the person, then took to pacing around him curiously. He waited there for about ten minutes, just watching the man think.
"Uh…Benji?" Julia stuttered. "What are we doing?"
"Whatever he is doing."
"Oh. And what is that?" she asked.
"Don't know."
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
******FLASHBACK******
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Wednesday, 1st August 2007
10:46am Local Time
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
“10cc’s of Malamorophine and Hydrodoxicortizone… administered at 10:47am… subject remains… sedated.”
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
“…1:23pm… 6ml’s of Fluxtide and 10cc’s of Inflixatrachaodine, administered by IV set on a ten hour infusion… subject is stable with strong alpha output.”
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…
“…10:09pm… subject displays irregular arrhythmia, alpha output dropped to 7… reducing Inflixatrachaodine dose to 3cc’s over next three hours… Read outs confirm that subject is in final stages of delta rhythm about to enter baseline… will monitor closely for next six hours…”
Thursday, 2nd August 2007
3:12am Local Time
Inside the small cubical room Kate suddenly opened her eyes.
Startling white light spilled into her senses, obliterating everything else, piercing through the back of her neck like a spike had been driven through her skull. Kate groaned painfully, rolling her head away from the source. How long had she been asleep? Where was she? The last thing she remembered was crossing the tarmac in some frozen wasteland after disembarking the Ministry’s jet plane. Her three hosts had led her towards a hulking great tank of an automobile, opening the door and helping her inside.
Groaning again, Kate tried to sit up. It was then that she realised that she was strapped down on a long metal table, set high up from the ground. She tried to move again but her entire body felt paralysed. Cold too. Looking down at herself, Kate realised that she was completely naked except for a small paper covering that seemed to be stuck in place with tape beneath her arms and legs. It barely covered her but was probably enough to maintain her dignity… just.
Shifting her head to one side, Kate took in her surroundings – a stark white cube filled with medical equipment and machines that beeped away rhythmically. Mustering all her strength, Kate forced herself to move and then simultaneously screamed.
A loud klaxon sounded high on the wall and a red flashing light rotated in its plastic shield. Kate’s eyes struggled desperately to cope with the new stimulus and she cried out louder as fresh pain ripped through her body - the soles of her feet and knees, her stomach and arms… every part of her was screaming out in agony.
“She’s awake!” shouted a young woman – the first of many ‘white coats’ that suddenly filled the room. “Get Dr Dubrovskiy, NOW!”
Someone suddenly grabbed hold of Kate’s head and began shining a light into her eyes, she groaned queasily, rolling her eyes back into her head while another person placed cold metallic instruments against her chest. All at once other hands were poking and prodding at her, mumbling inaudible answers to indecipherable questions. Kate screamed again and continued screaming until some vile tasting liquid was sprayed into her mouth, turning her throat so numb that she could manage nothing louder than a rasping croak.
Looking around dizzily Kate finally saw the array of tubes and needles that were inserted into her veins – all over her body. Some appeared to contain blood, while the rest held other unrecognisable fluids. Kate moaned again, feeling woozy and sick. She finally gave up trying to move and slipped back down onto the table, her hair pooling around her face like liquid fire. Mentally she did her best to block out the White Coats that continued to examine her with hardly any concern for her comfort or modesty.
“It’s okay Kate,” said a soothing voice, soft hands taking hold of her around her face, cradling her cheeks.
Kate looked up, surprised to be addressed so personally and sympathetically. She blinked several times until the young woman’s plain yet kind features came into focus. Kate gasped for breath, wheezing and groaning uncontrollably as she struggled to breathe. The woman… she knew… had seen her many times before, had been her friend all those months ago back in England…
“Jillian?”
“50cc’s of Hydrodoxicortizone and Malamorophine,” shouted another voice suddenly, jamming a hypodermic into the fleshy part of her thigh. Kate uttered a sharp cry and Jillian released her, vanishing from view.
“Where’s Dr. Dubrovskiy?”
“Ja zdes’, I am here,” announced a male voice abruptly, causing the others to quieten instantaneously. Dubrovskiy marked into the room and leaned over Kate, shining another light in her eyes as before. “Hmm, responses appear to be normal. I want her BP monitored for the next twelve hours while we give her another dose of the formula.”
“No! Doctor!” said a young female voice insistently. Kate recognised it as the sweet, gentle voice that had spoken earlier. Dr Jillian Lennon… but that was impossible… wasn’t it? Why would she be here? “Another dose right now could seriously harm her,” continued Jillian, “you’ve given her two already!”
“I hope you’re not telling me how to do my job Dr Lennon,” said the man, his voice harsh and uncompromising. “She responded well so far, it is my opinion that she can withstand another dose before we unhook her.”
“No one’s ever had three before!” begged Dr Lennon, her voice stressed and emotional. “You could kill her!”
“Then perhaps you’d like to volunteer to monitor her condition for the next 12 hours to make sure that doesn’t happen hmm? Okay everyone, I want 20ml of Anthracoxinatine and adrenaline on standby. Let’s give her that final dose…”
Jillian gazed powerlessly at Kate as Dr Dubrovskiy tightened her restraints and rubbed her skin with an alcoholic swab in preparation for the needle. She looked away as he inserted the long probe into her arm and gently squeezed the syringe, the watery black liquid running easily into Kate’s veins, coursing through her blood stream like a virulent cancer. The doctor’s eyes widened as Kate’s body began to tremble in response to the serum, EX-32, that surged through her system.
The black fluid branched through her body, swelling veins and arteries so that it’s progress could be visibly seen as it travelled through her blood stream. As the serum crawled its way across her chest and throat Kate gasped, her mouth agape like a fish struggling for air.
Jillian looked up anxiously but noticed none of the others seemed concerned. Kate’s moans grew more feverish and her body writhed against her restraints; her back arched with each gasp that escaped her lips while her fingers stretched, pulling against the tight bonds around her wrists.
Dr Dubrovskiy withdrew the needle from Kate’s arm as the last of the serum surged through her bloodstream. He took several steps back, feeling almost embarrassed to be watching the scene. It was the euphoria, the sheer potent ecstasy of power without boundaries, and it shook the girl like a virgin on her wedding night. Eventually Kate’s eyes opened wide and black as night, her breathing growing heavier and faster until she finally cried out in ecstasy, her body trembling uncontrollably in unison. As the final rushes of pleasure began to ebb away, her body continued to rise and fall, her breathing struggling to return to normal.
Dr Dubrovskiy grinned before turning back to his associates, his eyes flickering on Jillian. “I think she liked that.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Monday, 1st October 2007 – 8:25am
4121 Wilshire Boulevard
Featuring, in alphabetical order: Katie Couric, Ellen Degeneres, Jodie Foster, Morgan Freeman,
Jacob Toller whistled as he entered his office in the recently refurbished building. His new position as head of Personnel was a distinct step up for him and he was looking forward to seeing the whole team assembled today for the first time.Matt Frewer, Lucy Lawless, Orcus and Paul Reubens.
The décor was plain but functional – Jacob was not an ostentatious man. He set his briefcase on the desk, turned on the cutting-edge laptop and printed the agenda for this morning’s meeting followed by several copies of the organisational charts he had prepared.
While the printer whirred, he disappeared for a moment into his executive bathroom and emerged with a small jug. He poured the contents into the pot of the single plant he allowed to adorn the corner of his office, then returned the empty vessel to its rightful place before collecting his printouts.
The Director was named in lonely solitude at the top of the chart, with neat boxes arrayed beneath like rows of orderly soldiers. All seemed in order, so Jacob tucked the papers within a folder and headed towards the conference room.
On the way he passed a door labelled “Keffboridoriginhurtploxjukanidelig” and knocked lightly before popping his head inside.
The office was dominated by a huge mahogany desk that spanned fully half of one long wall. An enormous, goat-headed demon – naked but for a red-patterned tie knotted in a perfect double-Windsor – sat propped on one corner of the desk cradling a cup of coffee in one meaty hand. On top of the rich mahogany desk rested a much smaller desk, though no less rich. It housed a diminutive red demon.
“So, did you see Room and Bored last night?” the huge demon rumbled. “That Juna chick is so hot!”
“Yeah,” the smaller, red demon nodded, “But it’s Aunt Sassy who does it for me. That running suit. Rowr!”
Jacob cleared his throat and the two demons looked up from their conversation. “Good morning Ronwé,” he nodded to the ram-headed demon. “I see you and Keff-bor-idor-igin-”
“Just ‘Keffer’ will do,” the eighteen-inch high red imp said, grinning to reveal a set of ferociously sharp teeth.
Jacob sighed in relief. “Keffer. Well, good to see the team starting to bond already. Our meeting will be starting in a few minutes.”
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” Ronwé boomed. “Will they have doughnuts?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” Jacob glanced at his watch. “Almost time. We don’t want to be late.” Nodding to the pair, he exited and continued on his way.
Scurrying down the hallway, he nearly collided with a square-jawed man emerging from the corridors leading from the science wing. The man jumped, fumbling to keep his glasses from falling off his face.
“I’m terribly sorry,” apologised Jacob. “Oh, it’s you, Dr. Pulver. Off to the meeting, I suppose.”
Dr. Pulver harrumphed. “Yes, as a matter of fact. And you are..?”
“Jacob Toller,” he replied, holding out his hand, “I’ve heard much about you.”
Dr. Pulver ignored the proffered hand, instead rubbing his jaw reflectively for a moment. “Toller, Toller. Ah yes, Personnel. You’re the one who hired all those two-left-footed, all-thumbs grad students who call themselves ‘scientists’ that are masquerading as assistants in my lab.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure they’ll soon get used to it. Working for this company takes some getting used to, you know.”
“Hmph.”
Jacob watched Dr. Pulver make his way down the corridor. He saw a woman with short blonde hair pass him and follow in Dr. Pulver’s wake. He jogged to catch up with her. “Tira, have you managed to meet any of the new executives yet?”
She didn’t break stride and she most certainly didn’t look at him. “If you mean did I meet the enormous hairy demon with the doughnut fetish or the little red imp who tried to look up my skirt, then yes, I did.”
“Oh, I…” Jacob stammered.
She stopped and held up a hand. “Look, I’ve worked for Wolfram and Hart longer than you have. They are evil. I won’t let a little lechery hold me back from advancing my career. Besides, I’ve heard a rumour that things might change around here.”
Jacob tried to look innocent but ended up looking at her breasts instead. He blinked with guilt and looked up. Tira just snorted and opened the conference room door, nearly slamming it in his face in the process.
Inside, Jacob could see the entire executive board taking seats. Dr. Richard Pulver in charge of Research and Development sat across from Tira Fugella who headed Accounting. She took her seat next to Ronwé the Librarian who kept the mystical texts and who brushed doughnut crumbs from his bare chest. Keffer, the Keller’s imp in charge of Demonic Law, and his human counterpart Lyssa Hedrick, the diminutive woman from the New York branch whom Jacob had yet to meet, sat at the far end of the table. That left three people still missing: the Director, the Assistant Director and the Head of Security who had come here at the Director’s special request.
Jacob sat next to Dr. Pulver. Lyssa said through a smile that was so cheerful it had to be either magically induced or a birth defect, “Wow, I’ve seen all of your names come up so often in memos I feel like I know you! I mean I am thrilled to have the opportunity to work with such luminaries. I’m especially thrilled to be working with the legendary Keffboridoriginhurtploxjukanidelig. Your work on the Blood Eater Spawn vs. the Egrastic Cult was groundbreaking!”
“Keffer, please,” the imp seated in the specially-constructed meeting chair said modestly. “I just read a unique interpretation of their prophesies. It wasn’t anything special. You on the other hand, getting those paparazzi court-ordered access to Demi and Ashton’s wedding was brilliant. Arguing that it was less disruptive to the public safety to have them there than trying to sneak in or fly over in helicopters to photograph it. Genius.”
Dr. Pulver and Tira both started to pantomime gagging themselves with a finger and both stopped embarrassingly in mid-gesture as they each noticed their mirror-image across the table.
Ronwé rolled his eyes and rumbled out a change of topic. “Has anyone heard who the new director is going to be?”
Tira looked smug. “I’ve heard a rumour – unsubstantiated, mind you – that it might be a particular high-ranking female from Germany.”
Dr. Pulver’s face turned slightly ashen. “Female? Germany? Please, don’t tell me it’s the Berlin Wall.”
Jacob narrowed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The names on the organisational chart in the folder sitting on the table before him were imprinted in his brain. He’d been told to keep quiet about who would be in charge – and he knew this rumour hadn’t come from him. Besides, they’d all know in a minute anyway.
A squeal of delight emitted from the end of the table. “Really? Omygodomygodomygod.” Lyssa repeated while bouncing in place.
Both Pulver and Ronwé shook their heads in disbelief. Tira narrowed her eyes in disgust.
Lyssa sipped a glass of water and added, “She’s my role-model. I adore her. She was the youngest Branch Director ever, you know. She’s tough and smart and…”
“Here,” said a deep resonant voice from the doorway of the conference room.
All heads turned. A middle-aged black man entered the room and turned to the side, facing the door to greet the next two people to enter. One was a tall, muscular woman with a “don’t fuck with me” expression on her face. It looked like she hadn’t changed that expression in years. The other was a much smaller woman; some would describe her as petite. Chairs scraped as those seated within rose to their feet.
Lyssa breathed out in a rush. “Oh, Ms Wahl. I can’t believe it. I’m so thrilled that it’s you they chose for Directorship. You so deserve-”
She faltered and closed her mouth in mid-sentence as cool blue eyes fixed themselves upon her. Those eyes took in everyone else in the room before she nodded to the pair who had entered with her. They made their way to the chairs situated at either side of the head of the table, then the slender woman took her seat.
“As you have apparently already surmised, I am Morgen Wahl, the new Director of the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart. This gentleman is Colin Dawson, the Associate Director. My Head of Security is Julie Wells. Thank you all for being so punctual.”
Her clipped, slightly German-accented English demanded respect and attention and she got it. All shades of it from Keffer’s leering stare to the adoring starstruck Lyssa, from Tira’s cool appreciation and Dr. Pulver sizing her up.
Mr. Dawson walked around the table and handed out black-rimmed folders. They each had a neatly printed label with a number on it. Jacob started to glance in the one that landed in front of him. Dawson reached down and firmly but gently held it closed. “Not just yet, son.”
Once all the folders were distributed and the numbers noted on a list held by Dawson he sat down and opened his folder. The others followed suit and in moments the rustling of pages was all that was heard.
Morgen Wahl’s voice carried over the flapping of pages like the narration of a documentary track. “You are not imagining this, and isn’t a trick. Wolfram and Hart has managed to acquire a hellmouth. Unlike anything you might suspect, plan, or speculate upon, this is both an enormous triumph for the Senior Partners and the biggest pain in the ass this company has ever faced.”
She stood to her full five-foot two-inch frame and leaned towards the conference table. In a low voice she intoned, “This represents the biggest thing we can never tell anyone we have ever done.”
As she sat, Colin Dawson rose and smoothly continued, “A hellmouth is the subject of over twenty percent of the doomsday prophesies we have on record for cults in the world. It also represents one of the costliest errors ever made by the Watchers’ Council of Britain when they underestimated the significance of a single hellmouth in Sunnydale. What this means is that every do-gooder with a destiny,” he winked at Morgen who scowled back, “will want to destroy the thing.”
Julie took over from Colin as he sat back. “This information is strictly need-to-know. If it gets out, even to your own staff, you will be used for bullet proofing. Avoid any mention of this in your communications and memos. From now on, and only if absolutely necessary, you will refer to it as ‘the room’.”
Silence descended in a breathless hush. Wahl propped her chin on her hands, her elbows resting on the richly-inlaid conference table, and quietly asked, “Any questions?”
The clamour was immediate. Wahl held up a hand to silence it. “One at a time,” she snapped.
Jacob Toller leafed back through his copy of the notes he’d been given. Large sections of the document were blacked out, but the pieces he could read sent shivers down his spine. This was big. Far, far bigger than he’d possibly imagined. *A hellmouth. Shit.*
A female voice cut through his reverie. It was Tira speaking. “So what’s the plan for the room? Are we intending to use it?”
“Most certainly not,” Morgen replied icily. “Only a fool would think to attempt to harness such a power. And only a fool would try to destroy it. We know the consequences of that. Our only option is to keep this as quiet as possible and ensure its effects are minimised.”
Pulver cleared his throat. “And just what effects might we notice amongst ourselves, working so near?”
Colin answered the Doctor’s question. “Hopefully none. If you read your portfolio there is evidence of folks spending their entire lives unaffected by the proximity of a hell – sorry – a similar room. It will be your job, Richard, to ensure that the staff are regularly tested and monitored for changes.”
Dr. Pulver made a face and looked into his folder again. “It says that there is also evidence of paranormal incidents, and spiritual infestation as well. What kind of assurances do we have that this is safe?”
Morgen bared her teeth in an expression that in others might have been called a smile. “None whatsoever. You are a guinea pig like the rest of us, Dr. Pulver. And if you don't like it you can walk down to the very expensive mind-wiping machine in your very own lab and use that device to remove your memories and walk out the door, leaving all the really cool toys behind.”
“No need to threaten me, Ms. Wahl. I hear you loud and clear,” Richard held up his hands in surrender.
“No, I don't think you do. You are here because the Senior Partners want you here. You know something that will help them make this office more successful than its predecessor. This office will succeed in making L.A. a place where anything can happen at any time. But on our terms. We run this show and not any one of your petty fears or doubts or insecurities. Now do you hear me?”
All eyes focused on Dr. Pulver as a faint shade of pink crept its way up his neck. “Yes, ma’am. Perfectly,” he said with the right tone of deference.
As the noise level in the room rose back to normal and others began to put forth their questions, Jacob, sitting right next to Pulver, faintly heard the scientist mutter, “No need to be a Nazi about it, ma’am.”
Morgen Wahl’s hands slapped down on the table with such force that everyone’s coffee cups rattled. The hush that descended this time was the deepest and chilliest yet.
“Do you know why they call me the Berlin Wall? It’s because nothing gets past me, especially not snide little asides like that. In my younger days I might have ripped out your tongue on the spot. This time I will merely dock your pay – this time.”
She stood and redirected her focus from Pulver to the group at large. “I want you all to know right here and right now, that I run a tight ship. I will not tolerate any insubordination nor those who do not contribute to the team. Do well, you will be justly rewarded. Screw up and you’re out. There is already one amongst you here today who will not be seeing a paycheque at the end of the week.”
All eyes turned to Pulver, who sat looking as impassive as possible. Jacob imagined he could sense a faint miasma rising from the hapless man and felt sorry for him.
The tense moment was interrupted by the strident tones of Ride of the Valkyrie issuing from a cell phone clipped to Morgen’s belt. Without even looking at the phone she quickly announced, “This meeting is now over, thank you all for attending. I must take this call; it’s from the Senior Partners. Colin and I will be scheduling one-on-one interviews with each of you during the coming week.” She unclipped the phone and vanished into a side room as she answered it, leaving the rest of the Wolfram and Hart executives to their own devices.
Julie, the statuesque Security Chief, slid behind Pulver and commented in a sultry tone, “Do you know what your ring tone is when you call her? Another One Bites the Dust.”
A HUGE thanks to Heather for the co-writing assist.
Katie Couric
As Lyssa Hedrick
Ellen Degeneres
As Tira Fugella
Jodie Foster
As Morgen Wahl
Morgan Freeman
As Colin Dawson
Matt Frewer
As Richard Pulver
Lucy Lawless
As Julie Wells
Orcus
As Ronwé
Paul Reubens
As Keffer
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Monday, 1st October 2007 – 9:40am
4121 Wilshire Boulevard
Colin Dawson leaned his lanky frame against the doorway to Jacob Toller’s office. “Hi,” he began amiably. “Mind if I come in to chat for a minute?”
Jacob looked up from his e-mail and motioned the Associate Director inside. “Of course, Mr. Dawson.”
“Please, just call me Colin. I don’t believe in an office that’s too formal. If you can’t call your boss by their first name, then you certainly can’t call them a cheat or a liar.”
“Uh, sure. Colin. Please, take a seat.” Jacob gestured to the arrangement of plush sofas that nestled around a coffee table in one corner of the office.
“Now, don’t you be calling Ms. Wahl ‘Morgen’ or any such thing. Not unless she invites you to. This morning’s demonstration should have shown you she won’t hold with that sort of liberty.”
Colin settled himself on the couch and fingered the material appreciatively. “Hmm, comfy. The sofas in my office are all leather. Me, I’m more of a soft couch person. Leather’s too cold and hard, don’t you think?”
Jacob moved from behind his desk to join Wolfram and Hart’s second in command. He found himself warming quickly to this gentle man. “Sure, I like these. Oh, they are comfortable. I haven’t had a chance to sit on them yet. So, Colin,” Jacob said, trying out the name, “what do you want to chat about? The room?”
“Not so much. First I’d like to commend you on the job you’ve done so far. You’ve chosen some very good staff and we’re quite pleased with the way most of them are fitting in already. Of course, this being an operation of such a sensitive nature we have supplemented the usual Wolfram and Hart procedure with an additional background check. I must say, it has turned up some interesting results.” Colin smiled disarmingly, the picture of perfect relaxation.
Jacob did his best to control his physiological responses. As a seasoned interviewer he was well aware of the body language associated with stress. Some responses, however, were not under his direct control. He felt the flush begin, and suspected his pupils had probably already dilated considerably.
“Really?” he asked with a note of mild surprise. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Colin smiled his harmless old man smile. “Come now, son. You know. You don’t want to make an old man have to spell it out, do you?”
Shaking his head in bemusement, Jacob replied, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to. Unless Dr. Pulver has made some complaint to you about his staff. He suggested to me just prior to the meeting that he considered them sub-standard.”
“Oh no, that’s just his way. No, I’m talking about some of the people you hired who appear to suffer from a division of loyalty. We have the complete records of all your interviews and background checks, and I must say that a handful were really quite beautiful pieces of work. However, they were not quite perfect.”
“Oh? Is there some detail that perhaps I missed in some of the checks? Are you implying that one of my assistants subverted the system somehow?”
“Not at all. In fact, it was the diligence of one of your assistants that first brought to light a potential security hole. It seems some staff were hired who are already working for another company. The only really sad part is that we’re going to have to terminate these people, and really they are all perfect for the job. They just aren’t good Wolfram and Hart material.”
Jacob swallowed once. “So, what happens next?”
Colin casually pulled a silver pen from his breast pocket. “Well, I’m afraid we will have to remove the source of the security breach.”
Before Jacob could so much as blink, Colin had snapped the pen in half and flung one end towards him. The monofilament between the two halves twined neatly around his neck, aided by the weight of the half-pen. Scant moments later Jacob’s head rolled to a stop at the feet of someone standing in the doorway.
Julie Wells glanced at the severed head then across to Colin who was calmly retracting his lethal device. “I caught most of the last half of that. You only beat me here by a couple of minutes. By the way,” she added, moving into the room and closing the door, “remind me never to ask for your autograph.”
“I hope you don’t feel I was treading on your territory here. An old man needs to practice his skills from time to time.”
“That’s all right. Besides, now you have to fill out the paperwork. I just hope we really did find all the Valor and Ministry spies before you killed him.”
“That’s not a problem.” Colin reached forward for the telephone and pressed some numbers. “Richard, please arrange for an immediate brain drain.”
He hung up and addressed Julie with calm confidence. “If you’ll remember from this morning’s discussion with Morgen, we’re not quite done with Toller yet.”
With thanks to Dave for ideas, dialogue and for letting me not type the awful puns he tried to include.
Dr.....
California Coastline. 3:00 AM, Oct. 1st, 2007
The freighter blended in with everything else. This was, in fact, the entire idea of having a black freighter, considering it telegraphed “EVIL GENIUS ABOARD” to anyone who read comic books (or, alternately, Berthold Brecht.) No one was on the deck, no propulsion systems, just a dead-black freighter coming into the coastline.
With a grinding noise, the gigantic creation came to a stop five feet up the sandy beach. A single black square opened up near the almost-seamless bottom of the ship. A steady stream of blood began to flow out and mingle with the sand. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, a single figure stumbled on to the sand, dressed in a black slicker.
“You idiot!” the figure said, the voice distinctly feminine, “All this fucking rain gear, and it’s not only not going to rain, it’s low tide and we’re halfway up the beach!”
“Ilsa,” a tall pale man with a smile on his face said as he was carried out of the freighter in a gilded sedan chair, “aren’tcha glaid Ah told yuh ta’ wear…the potato pants scare the monkeys away from the orange plaster water as ah said before, it ain’t the AH’M HERE, YA UNHOLY NUN-TIPPER! IT’S GONNA BE ROMANIA TAHMS A HUNNERD! NOBODY FUCKS OVER DR. BLOODMONEY AN’ LIVES! so yuh see, Ilsa?
Ilsa, whose real name was Carol and who had been roped into being Dr. Bloodmoney’s secretary with the promise of above-par dental, had gotten used to this. She still hadn’t gotten the dental. She wasn’t going to ask about it. It was bad enough that the good doctor had used some powder of some sort to bend her to his will and then operated on her so she required no sustenance except to drink blood through a spike in her armpit. Dictation was a nightmare because of the doctor’s accent and speech patterns, and Gash kept trying to get into her bed at night. She sighed. “Let’s get the troops out, shall we, doctor?”
The gigantic bus was unloaded from the freighter, its windows blacked out, its insides filled with zombies. A gigantic, hulking man with a large disgusting cut right down the side of his face was at the wheel. “Oy! Doc! ‘Ow fucking long is I’?”
Ilsa answered him, “MISter Gash, you’ll get there when you get there, okay?” The answer apparently wasn’t good enough for the crew inside the bus, who started trying to break the widows. Ilsa shook her head and got in the car the Good Doctor had provided.
The drive was uneventful, or at least uneventful enough for a busload of zombies; a mad doctor bent on killing and reanimating a large, densely populated city; a slowly decomposing former soccer fan; and the eight or fifty pedestrians they mowed down on their way into the city. But finally, as they approached the condemned building where they were to set up a base of operations. Gash backed the bus up so the back door could be unloaded, and all of them went into the building, single file.
Once inside, the doctor stumbled around his lab, setting up tables, luminglass generators, a Jacob’s ladder, and other various special-effects equipment. Most of his work was in presentation and appearance. There wasn’t a lot of it that needed to be done—Just inject the serum into the body, maybe a bit of surgery and chemical mixing, and then pull of the sheet and presto! Instant slack-jaw. And there were already reports of zombies in South central! What more perfect way to lure that filthy, nun-tipping ingrate to me? Dr. Bloodmoney thought to himself.
Adam Young stirred in his sleep. Human Barbie-doll from the expensive part of town NEVER agreed with him. Something was wrong. Zen felt it, Adam felt it, even Rae, who slept so soundly beside Adam, she felt it, too. One way or another, the body wars of Los Angeles had begun. The souls were up for grabs, that much was known, but the body war had begun.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Bloodmoney is played by Terry Gilliam.
Adam Young is played by Cedric Bixler Zavala.
Zen is not played by any recognizable animal
Previously uncredited:
Mr. Gash – Vinnie Jones
Ilsa – Cindy Manion
Rachael Matsushida is an original design and does not actually have a counterpart...yet...
"Filthy Nun-Tipper" copywright Sam Reader (2005). Now if only I could use the words "Necrophiliac Poodle" in a story without it sounding forced...
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Choices
Choice is what makes life what it is; easy, hard, joyful, and dreadful. The choices we make dictate how others perceive us and ultimately label us for the rest of our lives. I’ve made choices in the past; others would label me as a monster, a demon, and even a god. However those labels are immaterial unless you take in to account the other labels I’ve been also been known as; comrade, lover, and yes, even savior.
I write this as a truthful account of the actions and choices that I have made in my past, no matter how negative or detrimental to my character they may be. I write this in the hope that it brings some light on my reasons for my actions.
New York 1931:The Cotton Club 644 Lenox Avenue
Alice played by Veronica Lake and Logan played by Harold Perrineau Jr
Alice and Logan sat at their table, quietly searching the room and taking in the sweet sounds of Louis Armstrong. “What makes you think he’s going to show up tonight?” Logan impatiently asked.
Alice smiled and pointed at one of the dancers. “A little bird told me. It’s their two week anniversary.” Alice sighed. “I do hate to break up such a scandalous relationship. I still don’t like it being so public though. The last time I checked the Order (Order of Turaka) isn’t in the business of fighting interracial relationships.”
Logan grinned. “If that was true the council would have broken us up long ago.”
Logan looked at a long, ornately decorated wooden box that Alice had brought and placed on the chair next to her. “If that’s what I think it is, you’re not actually planning to use that in here are you?”
Alice picked up the box and in almost ritual-like movement, she presented it to Logan. “No. It’s a gift to you. For OUR 700 year anniversary.”
Logan looked shocked for a minute but after Alice’s face turn to an evil grin he felt some relief. “You’re just playing with me now, aren’t you?”
Alice smiled. “No. It is a gift. I’m sure Master Chun would have wanted to make one with me for you before he died. So I’m giving you the one I used back then.”
Logan opened the box to reveal the violet felt inlay which cushioned a beautifully ornate katana. “Bunny, you don’t have to give me this. If Master wanted to-”
Alice interrupted. “He did. Besides it’s getting hard for a lady to walk around New York with a katana under her coat. I only need my knife anyway. Also I need to practice with my pistol.”
She looked at the door over Logan’s shoulder. Standing there was a well dressed Caucasian man flanked by two other men. “He’s here.”
Logan started to get up but Alice quickly took his arm. “Hun, why don’t you go start the car. I can handle things here.”
Logan looked once again, shocked. “That’s not the plan Buns.”
Alice shook her head. “I know but I’ve never been one to follow orders I don’t understand. I’ll handle this one solo. Just keep the engine warm for me.”
Logan stood and picked up his box. “It’s your call. I’ll just be up the street.”
He slowly walked to the door, passing the man’s party as they seated themselves near the dancer. Alice got up, her hand in her purse. She noticed that each man at the table had their own little distractions. One man was looking at a menu, working out what was to be his last meal. One was bent over in his chair picking up a spoon that dropped from the table, and her mark was flirting with the last girlfriend he would ever have.
*It’s like they’re trying to make it easy for me.* Alice smiled as she drew her revolver from her bag. BANG! BANG! Alice put one shot in each of the bodyguard’s heads as she stepped up to the table. BANG! BANG! BANG! Two in her mark’s chest and one in his head as she headed toward the door. BANG! Alice tripped as she felt the bullet enter her hip.
She rolled to her side, aiming her gun at her shooter. Alice looked down her gun sight at the young dancer girlfriend of her mark. The girl dropped her small derringer. She seemed stunned that it had gone off in the first place. Alice froze for a moment, contemplating whether to end the girl’s life or her dancing career by shooting her in the hip with her last bullet. Before Alice could fire though, she felt a hard blow to the back of her head and then darkness.
Alice woke in a cell deep in some New York police department. Her hip and head were bandaged and other than a slight pain in both she seemed no worse for wear. “I hate when they have girlfriends,” she muttered, looking around her cell. Although thoughts of escape crossed her mind she knew she couldn’t run for at least a day. Hours passed as Alice sat quietly, listening to the to the police talk about the crazy gun-wielding nut in the cell. Alice hid her smile as her cell door opened. In walked a well dressed and groomed man. *My duly appointed mouthpiece.*
“Good evening Miss Doe. I’m Jimmy Degun from Wolfram and Hart. Your,” he paused for a second, “employer hired us to get you out of this mess.” Alice had of course heard of Wolfram and Hart before. She knew that they had their hands in any and all things dark and evil. She also knew that this was really her only chance of beating the rap.
“All right, what do you need me to do?”
The man opened his briefcase and handed her some papers. “First I need you to look these over and sign in the marked boxes.”
Alice looked at them. Her legalese wasn’t up to snuff. “Just ballpark it for me,” she said as she reached for his pen.
“Basically you are not to talk to anyone about the events of this night, you will do as I tell you to do in matters of this case and you will carry out a serve revealed on a later date as payment. Do this and you’ll walk away from this alive.” Alice sighed and handed the contracts back to Mr. Degun knowing full well she was dammed anyway, so best to make the trip to hell a bit faster.
“So what now?” Alice asked as she sat back on her bed.
“As I said. You are to say nothing till after the hearing. Don’t talk to anyone. I will take care of this for you. Just try to enjoy your free food and bed till the hearing.” Putting his papers away Mr. Degun knocked on the cell door for the guard to let him out.
As the door closed behind him Alice closed the top on her new fountain pen and hid it in the folds of her dress. “This may come in handy.”
The hearing: Two days later
Alice limped into the courtroom and although her wounds would have healed by this time she kept opening her hip injury with the pen to keep the doctor from finding her out. Alice took her seat, only half paying attention to the proceedings. Only when the words “signed confession” by the district attorney and “She pleads guilty, your Honor,” by her own mouthpiece did Alice start to get worried.
Alice wanted to object but her mouth wouldn’t move nor would her body. It was like she was trapped in her body and some one else was pulling her strings. Thoughts of plunging the pen into Mr. Degun’s neck entered her mind but her body wouldn’t react. Alice’s outer expression seemed almost calm, but if her thoughts could kill everyone in the room would be flayed alive. Her mind only stopped racing when she heard the judge start to pass sentence.
“Because of your wishes in your confession not to receive any leniency, I have no choice but to sentence you to death by hanging in the State Prison for Women at Auburn as soon as it is convenient for the good people there and may god have mercy on your soul.”
Time and images blurred at she found her way to her cell at the women’s State Prison . As the days passed Alice was still under the control of some unknown force. That is until her last day and the priest walked into her cell. By this time Alice was on the verge of giving up. The priest looked at the guards. “Can we have some privacy please?”
Alice just looked at the priest for a moment. “Did you come to take my last confessions, Father? I don’t think I have that sort of time.”
Alice’s mind cleared. She could move again, but what to do? Hold the priest as a hostage? Maybe Attack the guards as they let him out. Alice started to leap at the priest but her freedom left her as the priest lifted his hand.
“My child, if you persist I have been informed to let you die.”
Alice’s control came back to her. She stood quietly. “What’s going on?”
Before she could finish her question, a light blue smoke began to waft from the priest. As the smoke formed, parts of the priest disappeared and in its place reformed into Mr. Degun. Alice held back her rage. The impulse to kill him as fast as she could was batted out of her skull by her instinct for self preservation.
“So what now?“ grumbled passed her teeth.
“We are going to walk out of here and Jane Doe is going to be hanged.”
Moments later the guards came in, cuffed Alice and escorted her and the priest slowly down the halls. They made their way to the gallows where Alice stepped right up to her place under the noose, slipping her head in it herself. One of the guards asked if she had any last words. Alice just smiled and said, “Can we get on with this, I have an appointment to keep.”
The noose was tightened and the levers were pulled and the body was put to rest in the prison cemetery.
That night the priest stood over the grave of Miss Jane Doe. A light blue smoke began to bubble from the grave. As it took shape, smoke also started to come from the priest. As parts of the priest disappeared, parts of Alice emerged. By the time the Alice was fully visible the smoke from the grave had formed into Mr. Degun.
“Neat trick Jimmy,” Alice said with a slight grin. “It takes a little more than a bit of rope and getting buried to kill me. So why all the control over me and stuff?”
Mr. Degun looked around. “It was really for your protection. We didn’t want you to try to explain anything to anyone in order to delay your sentence. As I said, I have an appointment to keep. Miss Doe, you should get lost and try to cover your identity.
Alice smiled. “Yes. I can handle that.” She looked at her tattoos. “And I was just starting to have fun as a blonde too. Oh, and by the way, call me Alice.”
Los Angeles Oct. 2nd 2007 12:35AM: 1318 Poplar Ave.
Alice played by Michelle Rodriguez
I walked up the front steps to the White Hat headquarters. My home away from home. I opened my mail box to find that I’ve gotten more letters sent to me this year then I’ve ever gotten. There was a note from Tash dated four months ago asking if I was going to be around for Daye’s wedding. This brought me to my second letter. The wedding invitation itself. *Way to go girl.* And lastly a letter from Nikolai that I opened on the way to my room. After throwing my bags on my sofa I began to read.
Dear Tovarisch, I have terrible news to tell you about Natasha. It saddens me to have to tell you, not face to face but in this letter……..
I don’t know how long I sat on the floor, knees to my chest, fighting back the tears, with Nikolai’s crumpled letter in my fist. But the next thing I remember, the sun was up any my cell phone was ringing.
“Hello.”
“Alice?
“Did you call someone else?”
“I just wanted you to know your name came up around the water cooler. There is even a memo floating around the office about having people look for you. You have to get lost for a while.”
“Thanks for the info Jimmy, but I’m not going anywhere. I have a friend I have to beat the crap out of.”
“Suit yourself. Just letting you know. Later…”
“Bye.”
*I really hate L.A.*
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 3rd, 2:41am
Downtown LA
Introducing Dakota Fanning as Hazel
"Now, honey, you remember what to do for mommy?"
"Yes, mommy." The ten-year old, dirty-faced little girl answered, looking down through brown eyes at her mother's form. She was lying on a makeshift bed of carboard and newspapers - makeshift, because the little girl had watched her mother take the otherplace sugar. "If any screamers come by I'll wake you."
"Now there's a good little girl." The mother - who looked even worse than her daughter and was in the grips of a drug-induced high - reached out with one hand to pat the little girl on the head. Her hand slipped, lazily dragged through the air, touched her daughter's shoulder briefly, and then flopped to the floor. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her mouth dropped open - and then she was lost to the world; in the 'otherplace' as her daughter would call it.
Hazel watched for a few seconds more, then turned her back and sat down. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, looking away down the length of the alleyway. The 'screamers' - packs of roaming otherplace sugar addicts - could come from anywhere at anytime and do anything. They had to keep a look out in case they showed up, and tonight was Hazel's turn to watch.
She wiped a tangled lock of her dulled, twisted and mangy hair out of her eyes and turned to look at her mother. Her mommy wasn't like the screamers. The otherplace sugar didn't turn her into a monster - she had told Hazel that herself. She would always be her mommy. It was just that sometimes Hazel's mom needed to go to the otherplace, where Hazel's daddy and brother were waiting to see her. When Hazel was old enough, maybe, she could go there and see them too.
Hazel...
The little girl jumped at the whispered voice in the night and turned around, expecting to see a pack of screamers already on top of them. There was nothing.
Hazel...
There it was again. She stood up and limped a couple of feet towards where she thought she heard it, deeper into the alley. It was hard going because her foot still hurt from the sad man that missed his own wife so much he had wanted to love her. Hazel didn't really feel angry at him, just sorry. He must have loved his wife very much. It was her mother she had been angry at, for running off to the otherplace and leaving Hazel here in the real world to deal with it.
She stumbled in a hole she hadn't seen in the dark and fell to the floor. Hazel's threw out her hands to support herself but slipped and ended up grazing her elbow. As it started to bleed she wiped tears out of her eyes and pressed her hand to the wound.
"Hazel." The little girl looked up and there he was.
"E-Eddy?" She gasped, gazing at her sixteen year old brother with mouth agape. He looked just like he did when she had last seen him - baggy, once-white t-shirt, baggier pants and the black baseball cap on the wrong way. No, that wasn't true. The last time she had seen him he had a gunshot wound in his chest.
"Listen, Hazel. I gotta be quick." He looked over his shoulder and then knealt down on the floor in front of her. "There's something important you gotta know."
"What is it, Eddy? Is it bad?"
"Yeah, its pretty bad." Eddy peered round his sister. "Worse than whats happening to mom, y'know? She ain't gonna be able to help you when the time comes, so you gotta be ready to look out for yourself. You gotta learn to fight and be strong. I'm gonna teach you this song, you ready?" Hazel nodded and Eddy took a deep breath. The song was a haunting melody that went deep into Hazel's heart.
that no one can change the path that you must go.
Believe what you feel and you'll know you're right because
when love finally comes around, you can say it's yours.
Believe you can change what you see!
Believe you can act, not just feel!
You have a brain!
You have a heart!
You have the courage to last your life!
Please believe in yourself as I believe in you!"
Her brother finished and looked at her closely. "You got that? You sure? Repeat it to me."
Hazel did so and when she was done she could feel tears welling at the corner of her eyes. "Mommy isn't going to help?"
Eddy shook his head. "Naw, you gotta be ready to count on yourself. Never stop watching. 'Cos Bloody Mary's coming, Hazel, and she's seen your face."
Bloody Mary? Hazel wanted to ask, but she was prevented by a cry from behind her. She whirled to see two men stumbling up the alley, their eyes fixed on her mom. Screamers!
Looking back around, Eddy was gone. Hazel jumped to her feet and ran off to bring her mommy back from the otherplace.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 3rd, 2:30 am
Poplar Av.
The door creaked open, and the fae slid into the apartment, taking great care not to wake Liala, or Kyle, even though he doubted the teen was actually home. Tonight’s hunting hadn’t gone the best it ever had, and he was sporting several fresh bruises and cuts to prove it.
For whatever reason, LA was playing host to more vamps and demons than ever; now, he could scarcely go out hunting without running into at least two or even three baddies per night. And the new state of the White Hats weren’t helping any. Tash was dead, Daye seemed to have given up the good fight, and Kate had been missing for over two months now. Darian had helped Galen look for her many, many times, but when he took off overseas, the fae stayed behind to keep up the protection of LA, hell someone had to. Now, he was beginning to think what everyone was too afraid to say aloud. Kate had probably met the same end most people in their line of work do, and there were good chances she would never come back.
On top of all this, the fae hadn’t been 100% either. Ever since the night Tash got dusted, he had been having mood swings, often lashing out at his friends. He had hit Alessa during the showdown with fake Chance and hadn’t spoken much with her since then. In the wake of all the deaths and disappearances, he had tried to convince Kyle to cool down on hunting, but that only lead to constant arguments with the kaoshian. Finally, things with Liala were not all roses and puppy dogs as they once had been.
Basically, the year was turning out to be pretty shitty.
The bathroom light flickered on as the fae proceeded to turn on the shower. As the water slowly warmed up to a desirable temperature, the fae began to strip down, leaving his blood stained clothes in a messy pile on the floor. Pulling back the curtain, he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to fall over his aching muscles. It was soothing despite the slight stinging it caused on his various cuts and scrapes.
What the fuck is going in these days he thought, as he noticed another huge black bruise just left of his chest. It was a question he asked himself a lot recently. The life he had come to build in LA seemed to be crumbling down around him. I just don’t know what to do anymore Everything, all the hunting, the fighting the striving for a better world, it all seemed in vain recently. There was just so much pain and death that he wasn’t sure if it was worth it anymore. Maybe Daye’s got the right idea. Maybe it isn’t worth it
Minutes later, the water trickled to a stop and the curtain pulled back as Darian stepped out of the shower. It was late, and he didn’t feel like thinking about such weighty subjects anymore. All he wanted to do was brush his teeth and got to bed.
“Darian”
He was just about finished rinsing the toothpaste out of his mouth when he heard that familiar serpentine voice. His head shot up from the sink only to freeze by the sight he saw. There, in the mirror was his reflection, but yet it wasn’t. It was his face alright, but his skin was a graying purple, his hair now white, and his ears, chin nose and teeth all pointy and severe.
“Why do you llllook sssso sstartlled Darian, doessss your true reflllection sssscare you?”
The man practically fell back against the wall in shock as his mirrored self began talking to him.
“Don’t be sssso sssurprissed, we know you could feelll usss, hear usss. It issss we who have been helllping you recentllly during you battlllesss, usss who have been lending you our powerssss.”
The man rubbed his eyes, trying his best to make the hallucination go away. I’m exhausted this isn’t real, this isn’t real
“Oh we are reallll Darian. The magic of your Sidhe friend has weakened over the yearssss and now we are back. Back to hellllp you,” his reflection hissed seductively.
“Shut up,” Darian growled, making sure he didn’t speak loud enough to wake anyone. “I just need to visit Daye and she’ll use her magic to put you back in your place,” he threatened, not even sure if Daye would agree to help him anymore or not.
“Don’t be so rassssh human. We are not here to caussse you harm, quite the oppossssite. We are here to helllp you, give you power. We can make it sssso you can protect thossse around you, make it ssso no one elsssse hassss to die.”
Darian considered the faery’s words for a second, only to discard them as trickery and deception. “I’m not going to believe anything you say you filthy monster! All you bring is evil”
His reflection only smiled, revealing a row of pointy white teeth. “You disssmisss usss ssso quickllly, yet it isss we who saved you two monthssss ago when a sssword lay deep in your back, usss who hasss been watching over you during your battlesss, usss who is alwaysss with you, protecting you, that issss more than you can say for your friendsssss.”
“Darian?”
This time it was Liala’s worried voice that spoke his name, coming from outside the bathroom door. Drawing his attention only momentarily, he turned back to address his evil reflection, but it was no longer there, replaced with his normal human self.
“Darian are you ok? I heard voices?”
Quickly wrapping a towel around his waist, the fae opened the door. “Everything is fine, Liala, I was just taking a shower,” he lied flatly, still shaken from what had just happened.
She eyed him suspiciously, but when it became apparent he would say nothing more, she reached out for his hand. “You look exhausted, you need to get to sleep.”
“Yeah, sleep sounds good right now.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 3rd, 2:30 am
Longwood Estates
Oz sat on the edge of the bed in the tiny apartment. He had his face in his hands and sat motionless, letting the strain in his shoulders relax. It had been another long run of messages to and from the homeless and disadvantaged of L.A. to the angels and the Heavenly Host.
He remembered days of disasters and plague before he had become human. It was like that all over. The faithful never tired. Oz was tired, though. More and more often he was coming here to be solid for a little while. He longed to be tangible again even if it was just to remind himself once more why he had handed over his divinity for mortality. It seemed like such a long way away.
While he sat there he smelled something burning. He looked up and didn't see anything in the bedroom, and he was sure it wasn't coming from the kitchen. Since he didn't need to eat he didn't have any food in the apartment. It kept going bad before anyone came to visit.
He walked into the living room and saw someone seated in the ratty easy chair that he had kept even though Loki and Tash had damaged it. He started to reach towards the stranger when the seated figure turned and bored his gaze into Oz's eyes. It was a charred corpse. His charred corpse.
"Hey, buddy, have a seat. I was hoping you'd be here, but it is hard to see through all the soot, these days."
His words were breathy and his dry tongue made clatting noises in his mouth. Oz staggered in place unsure what to make of the apparition. He was hard to understand, but Oz heard his words clearly in his mind dispite the ghastly sound effects that accompanied it.
Oz's eyes watered from the acrid smell and his mouth went dry. His throat tightened in revulsion. "Don't go all mushy on me now, Oz," the corpse said, "You left me behind when you 'ascended' and all that is here is this husk these days. Aren't you glad to see me? "
"No," Oz said, "What are you? Who are you?"
The blackened thing shook its head. "So simple. You are an angel, not a human. Always were, but you wore me for a long time. I am your 'human suit' so to speak. Problem is I didn't have a soul. Rather, I had something divine in me, so I wasn't totally human either. Extract the divine and you get this."
"A charcoal effigy," said Oz unkindly.
"Call it what you will. I'm sort of Oz DeHumano," he said with a chuckle that sounded more like a wheeze.
The vile thing was going to have to go, and he had the tool for dispatching it. Oz went back to the bedroom and got his sword. By the time he had returned to the living room it had gone, leaving behind an ashy smell, but otherwise no evidence he had been there.
Oz slumped onto the chair where the burned man had sat. *I have got to get some rest. I am going nuts.*
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, October 2 2007
1:10 AM - The Sunnydale Crater
Finally, when Benji had gained enough courage and lost enough patience, he gestured to Julia. "Eight-ball," he whispered. She produced the item and shook it for an answer. After glaring attentively at the little blue window, he tossed the orb back to his companion and stepped in front of silent humanoid. "What's up?"
The man opened his eyes drowsily. They were bright and green, glowing in the dark blue night. Benji lowered himself to the sandy ground, eventually mimicking the man's position.
"Who wants to know?" the man replied in a low growl, arching an eyebrow in contempt.
Benji jerked back and patted himself in the chest. "It's just me! Your oldest and bestest friend, Benji Law! Just came by to, you know, check up on my boy," Benji said with fake affection. Julia giggled and waved Benji to give up his reckless annoyance of the mystery man. Benji persisted, but in a less bothersome tone. "What can you tell me about this place?"
The blue one rose from his feet effortlessly, as if suspended in water. His exotic skirts swirled as he reached down, lifted Benji from the ground and hurled him a good ten feet. "This is the place where you die!" the meditative mystery man threatened.
With a banshee cry Julia thrashed at the demon, clawing his naked arms and chest. He reached back and grabbed her arm, launching her over his shoulder and face-first into the dirt. "I have awaited you, agents of the Wolf, Ram, & Hart! You seek to end me, but it is you who shall be ended!" The demon reeled again, and something like a foot came down near Julia's head. She rolled away nimbly, and when she landed on her stomach she dug her palms into the dust and flung herself to her feet. "By the Deep Ones' wrath, I shall not let you win!" the demon called after Julia.
Benji had just staggered to his feet. "What in the Hell are you talking about, blue?" He spit dirt from his lips and assumed a defensive position. "We didn't come here to kill anyone…well, not at first…didn't know there was anyone to kill!" He slid his hand across his chin, wiping away some blood. "Certainly didn't come here for you…"
The demon paced around the two vampires. "Oh no? I've observed your agents in this place for some time--making their little notes and studies! It will not matter if you kill me. The Order is everywhere!"
Benji stepped back. "Hey, man--you've got the wrong vamps! Now, I don't give a spit about you and your 'orders', but we don't work for Wolfheart or whoever you said!" Benji's muscles relaxed and he drew closer to Julia. "We are on vacation."
The assailant still seemed to be on edge. "You are not assassins?"
Julia shrugged. "Well, we are killers, but for fun--not profit."
The bizarrely clothed foe stepped lightly away from them. "And you know nothing of this place, my purpose here?"
Benji shook his head. "Like I said, Papa Smurf, I couldn't care less." He shifted his weight and placed a hand on his hip. "The name's Benji Law. She's Julia." Julia waved cheerily from behind Benji. She seemed to have forgotten getting thrown to the ground and cursed at a moment earlier. "But since we're here," Benji continued, "you mind telling me who that right-hook was actually meant for?"
The demon scoffed. His entire face was wrapped in violet cloth save the eyes, but Benji could tell he was smirking at them. "I was expecting agents of Wolfram & Hart. I was anticipating assassination…" He turned his head, staring at the ground in thought. "My name is Vespajan."
"Nice to meet you, I guess." Benji waved his hand for the demon to cease. "Wait--wait, did you say the law firm?" He turned to Julia with a puzzled look. "Wolfram an' Hart? That's an LA law firm, right?" Julia didn't know. "Why would a law firm send hit-men?"
Vespajan pointed to some fleeing lights in the distance. "Wolfram and Hart here some time ago and have returned periodically since. I have been ordered to keep an eye on them, their activities."
Benji watched the lights, probably vehicles, go. "What would they want with this place?"
Vespajan sighed. "Because they are one of the purest, most powerful evil entities in this dimension and every other. You cannot honestly tell me that you did not know this…"
Benji threw his hands up in admission. "Okay, okay. I must've been absent that day…still learning here." This was the first time he truly felt like a two-year-old vampire. The way Walter and Julia followed his lead, one would assume he'd been around since the Dark Ages. "So you were assigned to keep an eye on them…"
"But now they're onto you," Julia cut in with sudden realization.
"We had internal agents, spies within their own house. Most are gone now, I fear. Before long they will send agents to kill me before I can report to my superiors on my findings." He turned away, the flowing tails of his head-wrap flying about his shoulders. "If I return and my Order feels I have failed them, then they shall kill me."
Benji nodded. "Yeah, good luck with that," he commented lightheartedly. Julia stepped forth hesitantly, and awkwardly patted Vespajan on the shoulder for encouragement. There she found a feature she hadn't noticed earlier--two strange fins protruding from his upper bicep. Benji cleared his throat. "Why'd you think we worked for the firm anyway?"
Vespajan turned back to them and sniffed the air. "The sands of Roswell," he accredited. "You were in Roswell…recently, yes? The scent is so strong on you."
"Um…a little over a month ago," Benji replied with a dazed look.
"As was I. I naturally assumed you had followed me here." Vespajan nodded congenially to Benji.
"Wow!" Julia acclaimed. "That's amazing!" Looking down at the demon's arm, Julia pulled her hand quickly away as the strange fins began to twitch.
The blue demon twirled his hand in an arcane gesture in front of his cloaked face. "It is my gift. Sea demons are born trackers…seeking knowledge, hunting the unknown…this is our birthright." His eyes flashed brighter for a second. "I am also a Pathfinder…a scout and a spy."
"So you're perfect for this assignment," Benji said, clasping his hands in mock admiration. "Y'know Jules, we coulda used a man like him in our own splendid little war!"
Vespajan tilted his head. "That would have been difficult, as I am the last of my kind."
"Last of you kind?"
The demon nodded. "To my knowledge, yes. It is difficult to carry on the legacy of an entire race," he admitted to Julia, standing beside him.
Benji let out a dry chuckle and sneered. "Well, when Wolfram and Hart kills you…or your bosses kill you…whoever kills you, at least you won't have to worry about that anymore!"
"Don't mind him," Julia cautioned Vespajan.
"Oh, I don't intend to," Vespajan answered, courteous despite his deep rumbling tone. He picked Julia up by her hair and slammed her into a gently rolling dune. "I intend to kill him." He hovered a foot from the ground, feet concealed beneath his robes, and seemed to swim through the air towards Benji.
"You surely did not think that just because you were not my true enemies that I would no kill you!" Vespajan exclaimed. "I would not have revealed myself to you if I were going to let you two live!"
"Bring it on, blueberry!" Benji taunted. Vespajan approached, arms outstretched and hands gnarled into grasping poses. He swung at Benji from the air, but Benji was able to dodge--at first. As he proceeded to dart between attacks, he found it increasingly hard. Several blows finally landed, striking Benji in the chest and head, knocking into his legs and sending him to his knees. Finally, as one blue claw lashed Benji's forearm, Benji cried out. "Dammit! What the Hell are you doing?"
Vespajan laughed heartlessly and raised his arms above his head as he floated. He seemed like a cat playing with his food. "Every movement betrays you're next position, vampire! Each twitch of your eye, every tension of your neck muscles. I can see it all--your whole attack plan played across your body like a sign!"
Benji rose from his knees. "You can see? Well look closer!" Benji gripped the cloth above Vespajan's eyes and yanked it down over the demon's view. Vespajan snarled as he attempted to untangle his veil, now made a blindfold by his vampiric would-be victim. Benji struggled to keep the veil tightly wrapped over Vespajan's face, but in quick and unexpected jerk, he tore the shroud from the demon's head.
A roar erupted from Vespajan so loud that even unconscious Julia darted upright. Benji stumbled back onto his heels, the purple sheet in his hands. Silhouetted against the white moon, the shadowy shape of Vespajan writhed as it floated, howling and clutching his head. Benji couldn't see Vespajan's expression, but he could tell he was pretty pissed.
Only Vespajan's emerald eyes glowed in the silhouette. They squinted closed as acidic tears streamed down the demon's face. Though he pressed his palms against his sensory organs, he couldn't muffle the cacophony, even in the quiet desert.
The sound of a shuddering groan forming in his own throat…
A word formed on Julia's lips; unspoken, but vibrating terribly…
A cricket or rat or bat; some animal, every animal, was hurting him…
The distant retreat of the cars, and the voices within them, bleeding together…
Even the sound of his own palms rubbing against his head made him cry for silence.
With a final scream Vespajan swooped past Benji and ripped the cloth from the vampire's hands. Covering his face and head, the demon shimmered into the distance and spoke with Benji and Julia no more.
"Keep in touch! Dick," Julia called after Vespajan. "Benji…what just happened?!" she shouted, holding her head.
"I just got the crap knocked out of me by 'Eryka Badu' over there," Benji groaned. "Apparently when I took his do-rag it caused, like, a sensory overload or something. Let's go back to the van," he suggested, limping over to Julia.
"Thank darkness for happy accidents, eh?" Julia said as she rose.
"What're you talking about?" Benji shrugged, smiled, and dug his hands into his pockets. "I planned to do it."
Julia pointed to Benji and grinned. "There! Again. You smiled, Benji. Let me tell ya, something's been different about you ever since…well, Las Vegas."
"What?" Benji asked innocently.
"You just smile more. Never saw you smile--and actually mean it--since we started this mad road trip."
Benji disagreed. "It's just a phase," he explained. "It'll pass." The van was a few feet ahead now, and he readied the keys. "And I wasn't smiling in Mexico, was I?"
"You seemed surprisingly upbeat."
"Hm," Benji murmured. He unlocked the back of the van and Julia threw herself inside. "Where to now?" Benji asked as he started up the vehicle.
"We've been all over the place, Benji," Julia whined as she picked up the cats, Bird and Wally. "You know, LA isn't far. Let's just drop by to see if the months were good to her." She scratched Wally's chin. "I wonder if the other Veins came back yet."
"I wonder if any nasties came back at all," Benji interjected. There would be only one way to find out. "Let's saddle up."
"Not so fast," Julia halted, lurching towards the front of the van. The cats scurried as she rose. She placed her hand on Benji's shoulder and pulled herself to her feet. Leaning
over the driver's seat, Julia kissed Benji full on the lips. After a long moment, she pulled back.
"What was that?" Benji asked quietly.
"The Host told me to go after what I wanted," she said cheekily. "Our cute little fights aren't going to keep me back."
Benji turned back to the wheel and sat quietly for a moment. Julia slipped back into the rear of the van and leaned her head on her hand, as she had done so many times while gazing at Benji. Up front, Benji had taken up his magic eight-ball, rolling it gently in his hands. He didn't appear to be shaking it for answers, but because he didn't know what else to do. It was time they had that talk--the inevitable conversation and the sequel to their fight in Mexico.
"Look, Julia--I know you're really looking for a gung-ho vampire with a goal, and a dreams. You won't admit it to yourself, but that's what you really want."
Julia lifted herself back to the front seats and protested. "No, Benj…I never--"
"Walter could have given you that," Benji admitted. "But not me. Both you and the Host told me I should get a cause, but I just don't feel it. I mean, just look how that whole Black Veins thing turned out! So, I'm done with causes. I am the empty, direction-less vampire. Do you want that? Because I do not think you do."
Julia quietly pulled back from the front of the van. "Maybe I don't."
Taking Julia's face in his hands, Benji leaned into a long kiss.
Julia leaned back bewildered, and remained in the passenger's seat. "Okay--yeah, I do want that. I want whatever that was," she giggled sweetly. "What brought that on--sudden case of insanity?"
Benji started up the van and started for the highway. "Nope. Just trying some new directions," he said with a wink. As the van pulled forward, the eight-ball rolled down the back, chasing the cats away as it plinked against the rear doors. The shaky ride had erased whatever answer the ball had given Benji, but Bird and Wally blinked at each other knowingly, as if to say "I told you so."
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Club Asylum
1 October 2007
11:21pm
Laughter filled the parking lot, as the pair made their way out.
The young woman stumbled, being caught by her partner. “Sorry,” she said, smoothing out her dress. She normally didn’t leave with someone who had just met, but there was just something about her partner. Or maybe it was the amount that she had to drink? Not that she minded, after a fun night of drinking and dancing.
“It’s ok,” her companion assured her, smiling at the woman near his side. “They made some good margariras, after all,” he continued, trying to put her more at ease. Still, his luck in what had happened was something that he could scarcely believe.
She laughed in recollection at that; the margaritas the bartender served were lethal. The man had a reputation to maintain for serving some strong drinks of that sort. So they had asked him for that drink, and gotten the full taste of his reputation.
“Oh my god!” she screamed in sudden shock, hearing a loud snarling sound. “What... what is that?”
“Maybe a dog of some sort, I dunno,” her companion shrugged. Staying upright was becoming more of a challenge, but then, he was certainly the more sober of the two. Still, they couldn't help but be curious as the snarling continued, seeming to vary in intensity.
They walked through the parking lot some more, getting farther from the club. The sounds of the night of Los Angeles were joined by something in the distance... something softer. The sound of metal on metal. It was a slight thing, drowned out by the occassional snarl.
It was when they rounded a corner, they stopped.
“That's sure 'as hell somethin' you don' see every day,” the man said, while the woman could just let out a shocked “uh-huh.”
Three figures moved in a deadly unison, one of them obviously a dark-haired human in a suit, holding a double-bladed sword. But the things that he was fighting were less than human. One of them looked like a tall, power-full Reptile, with two long things jutting out of his arms; the other had a more wolf-like appearance, also carrying a sword.
The man stepped towards the wolf-creature, deftly deflecting a sword strike as he turned passed it. With the double-bladed weapon arching around, the wolf-creature moved backwards quickly to avoid being slashed.
He struck downward quickly, knocking aside the arm of the Reptile, as it attempted to skewer him on one of his bone struts. Then the man brought his weapon up, arching the other blade downward. A small gash appeared the Reptile's chest, as it stumbled backward, letting out a cry of pain.
Again the man had to turn back to the Wolf-creature, parrying an attempted strike. Nikolai moved forward quickly and aggressively, trying to keep the creature off-balance. His sword arching into the air, he quickly turned, using his momentum to add to the force of the slash. The creature blocked the blow, as the double-bladed sword twirled around again. Aiming carefully, he connected with the creature's neck, sending blood gashing out.
Turning back to the Polgara-demon, Nikolai breathed heavily. “You two, get out of here!” he yelled at the obviously-intoxicated couple who were standing there gawking at him. They probably had never seen anything like this. They probably thought they were actors filming for a movie or something.
Polgara demons were fortunately not very bright; at the knowledge of an easier meal close by, it turned to advance on them. Nikolai charged behind the demon, making a quick strike with the sword, burying it in the demon's spine. It let out a cry before falling to the ground, leaving him to breathe heavily as he tried to pull it out.
The couple had disappeared, and Nikolai breathed a sigh of relief.
It had been nothing more than dumb luck that had let him survive the attempt to keep the vampire population under control. His breath coming heavily, Nikolai looked around for more signs of someone under attack. “More than enough for one night,” he muttered, walking slowly through the lot, trying to remember where he parked.
All the while, Nikolai was unaware that he was being watched. The figure hid in the shadows, before smiling to itself.
Yes, this one would be a challenge.
Opening Hours (baiting the hook)
Profirio Diaz. 6:00 PM, 1 October 2007
Adam woke up promptly at six and extricated Zen's claws from the leather pad on his shoulder. After the one night where his erstwhile companion sat with his claws in Adam's shoulder for five hours straight and left him with a scabbed-over mess that looked worse than even that time when he had an infection from a tatt needle (and he had had to change the bandages every ten minutes), he'd decided that maybe a shoulder pad was the right way to go. At least he didn't bleed and rip his t-shirts all the time.
He stumbled into the shower after cracking every joint in his body to wake up his partners in crime. Of course, this wasn't necessary, but it amused him to give them a hard time. He began singing "L'via L'viaquez" in a dead-on impression of Cedric, but horrendously off-key and with only half the words being sung clearly. The other half were the words in Spanish he couldn't remember. This version ran about bhalf the length of the actual song, and was constantly interrupted by gargling noises and swearing. By the time he was dressed and his shoulderpad was in place under the At The Drive-In T-shirt he was wearing, he leapt down the steps and into the bar.
It looked odd, with all the lights off and no one playing anything. The dance floor and everything around it was made to look like a dark cave, with the tables over to the side. Adam hit the button to turn on the stereos, which began playing "Starry-eyed Surprise" by Paul Oakenfold. Adam began dancing, or some reasonable facsimile across the room, hitting a one-eighty around to face front and switch on the flickering "BOOZE" sign in the front (It was his own touch. No one was complaining.). He hit the master circuit breaker, which looked like an electric-chair switch, and flipped around the "NO DRINK LIMIT...IF YOU DO SOMETHING STUPID, IT'S YOUR ASS" sign behind the bar, made sure all the neon tubes were working, and unlocked the door just as the stereo switched to "The High Party" by Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. He waited behind the bar as the victi-- er, customers, walked in and took their positions. He checked the live show for the night. TMV. Good choice, actually. Something people could rock to; but not without intelligence, or perhaps a PhD.
Rae and Zen made their way down. Rae'd begun working full-time at Diaz, after Adam showed her exactly what the world was. She'd had no use for the little nuances of broadcasting, and she juggled bottles pretty well, too. Adam smiled at her, and then went back to his customers. Time to see if there was anything nasty crawling under the rocks.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, October 2 2007
1:40 AM - Near the Sunnydale Crater
The dark figure staggered around the sparse chaparral, drawing the royal purple sheet around its head like a hood. The demon Vespajan had been wandering for about ten minutes, fleeing, trying to find his bearings after his unfortunate encounter with…
That was his main problem with the situation! They were just vampires. It shamed him to be running, but what else could he do? The cloth had been removed, and his sensors had been exposed to the harsh outside. They surely did not understand the magnitude of their action--it was an accidental victory. This is what brought him dishonor.
"Rough night?" a silky voice called from the desert darkness.
Vespajan lurched forward, steadying himself and preparing for an attack. "I was wondering when you would come for me!" he snarled. "By the Deep One's wrath…"
"Save your Deep One's wrath," the other one interjected. "I'm not from Wolfram & Hart."
Vespajan's green eyes squinted with suspicion. "Then…you are from the Order of Valor…here to kill me?"
The person stepped closer. "No, not that. Not like any of those. Now, you can keep guessing 'til you're blue in the face, or you can listen to what I have to say."
Vespajan's breath quickened as his senses adjusted to the new visitor. "I sense…power. Great power, muted before its time."
The black-clad shadow nodded. "Yes. I'm working on that."
"Who--What are you?"
"I told you," the nameless figure clarified. "I'm not like anything you're expecting." Finding the way to a large flat rock, the shadow sat down. "Saw you back there. Those vamps got lucky. Tough break for you, but it happens."
Vespajan nodded. "I do not make excuses for my defeat. It is what it is--I should have been better prepared."
The figure scratched some grooves into the dirt. "So…what are you going to do now?"
Vespajan's shoulder's sank and his fists clenched. "I shall return to my Pathfinders, and they will decide if they should turn me over to the Order or not. If they do, then I am sure to be executed for my mistakes."
The shadow groaned. "Come on! Do you think that's fair? You were spying…espionage is tricky. Wolfram and Hart would have caught on sooner or later. Deep down you know this." Vespajan remained silent. "See, the smart thing, at least in my opinion, is to split. Find a nice cozy place and get out of this whole 'Order vs. Wolfram & Hart' thing. Hey--you could always go looking for your people. I'm sure there's some left, if you know where to look."
The demon sighed. "I suppose you are right." He stepped carefully closer. "I thank you for your wise council. Now, please forgive me, as I cannot allow you to live knowing the truth." He raised his fist rapidly, aiming to tear the shadow's throat out. He found his hand, however, caught by the figure's.
"Please," the figure laughed. "You know that power you sensed?" The shadow slammed its other fist across Vespajan's jaw. "Still got a bit left." Soon Vespajan found the dark one standing over him, grinning. "Like I said…the Order isn't the place for you, baby blue. You are much better off with me."
5:05 AM - en route to Los Angeles
The humble black van trundled down the highway. Benji was wide-awake, but very bored--same as always. In the back of the vehicle, as cats Bird and Wally milled about anxiously, Julia slept. A few rough bumps later, she found herself jolted to consciousness, and staring at the slightly rusty ceiling.
"Mmm. Was it good for you, too?" a voice whispered. Julia sat up, immediately recognizing the sarcastic accent. He sat huddled in the back of the van, elbows on his knees, smiling bitterly as he always had in life. His scruffy black hair was styled in exactly the same way as the night she watched him die--for the second time around.
"Walter," she murmured. A thin cat raised his head to meet his namesake.
"Surprised you still recognize me, Jules," the vampire remarked as he rose from his position. "
Julia seemed to hear Walter's voice whisper something else, but it was not directed to her and she didn't see his mouth move. "No soul…ask again later…"
"Oh Hell, Walter…I couldn't forget you."
"Well, I thought since you're so close with Benjamin now, you wouldn't think back on little ol' me anymore."
Julia's heart sank--he must have seen them, kissing back in Sunnydale. "You know I always liked Benji, Walt. And after what happened the night of the battle…well, I needed to get over it somehow."
"Glad to see you are 'over me'." Walt tapped a finger against the van's side window. "Now, let's see...ah, yes. The night I died." He scratched the back of his neck and continued, dredging up the memory. "Lotta good vamps died that night…Tash, for one. She's with me, you know." Walter leaned forward. "You know--here. In Hell."
"Walter, you can't be angry…"
Walter held up a single finger to silence her. "You can't tell me what to feel, Julia."
The whisper came back again. "No soul, not a child. All growed up…look away…"
"You know, you told me to trust him," Walter continued aloud. "So I did. I trusted Benji, trusted his plans--Tash's plans, too--but look how that all turned out." He dropped to his knees and crept closer to Julia. "I wasn't the only one who died that night--you know that, right?" he whispered.
Julia pulled herself back. "I…I know. Rose was killed. I didn't see, but Benji told me--"
"Benji told me!" Walter mocked. "Benji told me! And of course, Benji, in his infinite wisdom, told you the truth…"
"What do you mean? Tell me!" Julia demanded.
Silently, Walter turned his head. He appeared to be listening, or feeling something touch him lightly on tip of the ear.
"Is…someone else here? Are you talking to someone…?" Julia asked furtively.
"Jealous?" Walt asked scornfully as he stood again. He shook his head and stared at Julia with a look of complete loathing. "Now you know how it feels," he hissed slowly.
Julia blinked her eyes and pulled herself up onto one elbow. As a cat crawled over her mid-section, Julia felt the smooth rhythm of the ride. There was no sign of Walter, and she was positioned the same way as when she fell asleep. "Benji!" she called unexpectedly.
"God, what's with the yelling? I'm right here," Benji replied.
"Are we in LA yet?"
Benji nodded and shifted gears. "Close--getting closer. It's going to be a race against the sun, but we'll make it."
Julia hoisted herself upright and leaned against the back of Benji's driver's seat. She would not go back to sleep again. It wasn't like she needed to rest, anyway.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October, 3rd 2007
Longwood States
5:35 pm
“Ok, sure, Sam. I understand.” Alessa said with a resigned voice, this wasn’t the first time she’d received Sam’s uneasy apologies for Daye’s absence. “Please tell her… please tell her to take care, ok?” she added in a hopeful tone before hanging up the phone.
She leant back on her chair and gyrated to face the window. She sighed, her hands crossed over her lap, and she just stared out, to the beach outside. How long since she hadn’t been able to reach Daye? Surely not since the night they dusted Tash, right? Surely not that much… but she knew it was. She wasn’t responding any calls, hadn’t showed up at Bibliophile, neither at the Council’s mansion, she hadn’t even appeared at the news of Kate’s disappearance… or death, as it seemed the case…
Alessa sighed and leaned forward on her hands, the enormity of what had happened in the last couple of months again threatening to drown her. First Tash. Dear, strong Tash. Then Kate… she almost sobbed at the thought. She couldn’t believe Kate was dead, but everything pointed to it. Galen’s unbending surety that his wife wasn’t dead had made them look for Kate, but to no avail. Her friends had searched for her in the city. Ellis ‘M&R’ mages had searched for her too and she understood her Sindell friends had looked for her as well… but nothing. That could only mean one thing: that the witch was dead.
And now Daye, who was still alive but seemed lost to the world.
She needed to get in touch with the rest of her friends. She had barely spoken with Nikolai since the night of the fight, let alone Darian, who seemed to be feeling so guilty about the incident with the fake ‘Chance’ that he had disappeared as well. Reah seemed to be keeping pretty much to herself too, and Kyle… well, he was just being Kyle. They’d come across a night or two, while hunting. At least she knew the Kaoshian was all right…
So much for the White Hats.
On an impulse Alessa reached to take the phone again. Better start doing and stop thinking, she said to herself as she dialled Nikolai’s phone number.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Bez’Ara’kuz is played by Benicio Del Toro
And Oded Fehr as Raz’avil
October 4th, 2007
Night
New York
She slowly climbed out of the dirt that she was buried in. Her fingers where bloody and broken from digging herself out of the deep grave. Her pale ashen face emerged from out of the soil, a numb and confused expression across her face. She tried to draw a breath...attempting to fill her lungs with fresh and life-giving air...but failed. She knew from this moment she was dead. Her face began to fill with panic as she was trying to get another breath... she screamed “Help!” Her voice echoed through the graveyard. No one answered... no one ever would. She tried hard to remember what had happened... she knew it was bad, but she didn’t know what. She knelt down in the soft wet grass, her hands resting lightly on her cold face as she tries to remember what had happened. The wind whistled the branches on the tree that was near, she gradually looked up and noticed a large creature perched on the branch looking down upon her.
Vince leapt down from the branch and moved quickly towards the grave and held out it hand to the young girl, she was reluctant but looked at it anyway. The creature easily lifted the girl out of the grave, she would have smiled but the whole situation was new to her “What…what are you, why was I in the grave?”
Vince smiled as it answered “Well, it’s funny really. A vampire bit you and drained your blood then you ate his blood and became a vampire, and well you kinda lost your soul.” The girl just looked blankly at Vince “and well I'm death and I’m a bit hungry” Vince stuck his fingers hard into the girls chest. His fingers passing thought bone and cartilage alike and he began to feed, Vince smiled as the girl began to glow brightly. She was fresh and full of life energy - he wouldn’t need to feed again tonight. As the last of the energy left the girl she exploded in a cloud of dust, leaving Vince slightly covered in it.
As Vince turned around to walk away less then 10 feet away stood a pack of vampires arranged in a semi circle, all holding bats and meat cleavers, the biggest vampire of the pack spoke. “So you’re the thing that attacked our headquarters down south”
Vince shook is head “I got no idea what you’re talking about buddy, but if you want a scrap I’m more than willing to take out some bitch ass river vamps”
The entire gang cracked a smile as one. This was the first sign that something was very wrong “River vamps they are scum, we’re Harbingers.”
Vince’s face changed as soon as they dropped their name. He didn’t want to have a rumble with Harbingers, they pretty much made up the demonic majority in this town. “Listen I got no problem with you boys so step off before you end up like the dust on the ground over there” Vince slowly transformed back into the blue eyed blond haired young boy that it once was.
Vincent raised his hands in a defensive manner “See? no threat here, I know some of your faces so you gotta know mine and who I am.”
A vampire holding a baseball bat walked over to the leader and whispered into his ear
“So you’re the kid who hangs around with that psycho Ripper. He may be untouchable, but these orders are from the top so kid ... No dice.”
As soon as the Vampire finished his sentence the pack of Harbingers rushed hum in a frenzy of anger and fear. As the bats and blades rained down upon Vincent, breaking his bones and severing his muscles, the pain was so severe Vincent was almost about to pass out until he felt the searing pain of electricity roll over him. He watched as the vampires simply exploded into dust leaving their weapons scattered around him, he slumped to the ground as he felt his wounds begin to heal he looked up to see a tall man in a rain coat standing over him, as on queue the first rain drop landed on Vince’s head the man scooped Vince from the ground, flung the badly injured boy over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and began to walk. This is the point Vincent lost consciousness.
Several hours later Vincent awoke in a strange apartment, the only noise that could be heard was the methodical ticking of a clock on the wall.
Vince slowly got to his feet finding himself laying down on a large sofa. He pulled himself upright and found himself being greeted by a blonde man in a suit sitting across from him in another sofa smiling. “Well, little brother Vincent, it looks like we have a lot of talking to do, so lets get started, why don’t we? I’m Bez’Ara’kuz.”
3 hours later Dawn
"I'm not a good person," Vince growls, his lips curved cruelly as he spoke .
"That doesn't matter," Spoke Bez’Ara’kuz. "You have a greater purpose."
"I don't want a greater purpose. I want to Live." Vince begins to pace along the breath of the room. Big, Bez’Ara’kuz grandfather clock seemed to tick to the same rhythm of his heels against his hard wood floor. "I'm done here, Bez’Ara’kuz. It's been nice 'n' all, but, really, I've had enough."
"Well, apparently, your opinion on the subject has no relevance."
Vince turned to him angrily, his Blue eyes seeming to catch fire.
Bez’Ara’kuz taken aback reword his statement, "You're here whether you like it or not."
Vince gave him a look before he backed off from the much larger Reaper.
“You’re telling me there is no way to regain my mortality. I don’t want to have to eat people to survive anymore,” spoke Vince in a pleading tone.
Bez’Ara’kuz shook his head “I'm sorry Vince. I know it’s hard to forget what our former lives were like but we are better now… we are better than every creature out there. We are the reapers, the death walkers, where we walk death follows close behind. As we age and feed our powers grow stronger, we cannot die when our bodies are destroyed our essence shifts into the realm of the dead were we rule and we can come back stronger than ever. Vincent, for all you hate having to kill remember we keep the balance, when all the champions of the powers that be pretend to be doing real good we are the ones with the power to change the world to our will. The harbingers are chasing you for this, they know what you are and want you dead, so it’s our job to hunt them down and devour them.”
“You aren’t exactly getting what I’m saying Bez’Ara’kuz. I don’t want to have to kill to survive anymore”
For the first time in the short meeting Vincent saw the anger inside Bez’Ara’kuz. “Vincent these creatures, the demons, the vampires, they are noting. They are our cattle. They have no souls. They kill children and yet you still think they don’t deserve death, you have spent too much time with that vampire”
Vincent’s face contorted in anger as his right hand slammed hard into the jaw of the massive Bez’Ara’kuz. As soon as his first struck, Vince automatically regretted his actions. Bez’Ara’kuz stood unmoved with his arms crossed, before Vince could react Bez’Ara’kuz backhanded the teenager and sent him reeling.
“Well, young one, it seems what I say has no relevance. Maybe a conversation with our master will convince you”
Before he Vince was off the floor he already warped into his demonic reaper form and moved in towards Bez’Ara’kuz. But was met with a bolt of energy slamming hard into his chest dropping him to the ground.
Bez’Ara’kuz began to laugh with malevolant tone. “Well boy, you are improving. You can shift forms fast enough but your power is lacking, I am almost two and a half thousand years old little one. You cant beat me.”
With that, Bez’Ara’kuz punched his fingers into the chest of Vincent and drained the last of his life force from his body.
Vincent watched as the world changed from the Land of the living to the immaterium of the land of the dead the transit point for the dead of earth to move on from. As Vincent’s spirit form raised from the ground he found himself staring into the inky Blackness of the being Zahyzhak, his master. “You disappoint me, Vincent I have given you the chance to do what few others have the power to do and you attack you Brother Bez’Ara’kuz.”
On queue Bez’Ara’kuz appeared from nowhere, cross armed and looking disappointed. “I’m sorry. I had to do that brother, but it is for the best. Our master can show you the true way that I sadly cannot.” Vincent was about to say something offensive, but decided against it and kept his mouth shut.
Zahyzhak’s essence moved like that of ink in water and surrounded Vincent. The tendrils of darkness wrapped themselves around his arms and legs and held him tight and the two Burning red eyes of Zahyzhak appeared in front of Vince’s face. “Let me show you why you must continue your work. Why you must Devour all beings who choose the life of evil.”
Two jets of light exploded from Zahyzhak’s eyes into those of Vince’s and the burning pain of the memories of all of the beings he and his Master Devoured, every action from their birth to their dead, all the evil they did, every perverted action that caused another pain he saw. He saw thousand of warriors clashing in battle, he watched the raising of entire citys by invaders urged on by evil beings, watched the murder and rape of men, women and children by depraved Demons and humans. He saw the please of the people being unanswered by their god, and finally he saw Zahyzhak, a spirit of all the dead humans coursing with anger and creating the first Reaper Guyout being risen from the dead almost eight thousand years ago and delivering vengeance from the bruitley slane.
The limp body of Vincent dropped the floor, shaking in pain and revulsion; he began to sob for all the souls that could not have been saved.
“You see, Vincent” began Zahyzhak, “you must Destroy the evil of the world, The Harbingers attacked you because they are evil and they fear what we will do. Guyout destroyed one of there great fortresses and now they seek vengeance. I understand your love of the Vampire James, he took you in, protected you but he has done much evil, you must leave New York. Travel the land of the dead to Los Angeles and show yourself to the Underworld community, that of human and demon, and show them the Vengane of the dead”
Vincent slowly got to his feet and nodded his head “I will not fail you, Zahyzhak. I will kill as many as I can before I die for the final time.”
Zahyzhak’s essence moved around Vince and began to prod at him. “You will never die for I save your spirit from the Endless abyss of final death. Now go to Los Angeles and devour all who sin against humanity”
Zahyzhak looked towards the hidden being standing behind a column of bones as did Bez’Ara’kuz. “There. It is done. I have sent a great power to Los Angeles.”
The mysterious, cloaked figure remained motionless “I Assumed you would send one of your eldest, not a Child who barely knows his true potential”. Moving closer to the essence of Zahyzhak the figure tone remained icy cold. “I am in no mood for games.”
The entire realm vibrated as Zahyzhak giggled. “Well, that is not for you to decide, anyway. I want to see what the boy is made of and how good you really are since… well, you know the whole disgrace thing but enough of my gloating”.
“Enough indeed,” the figure retorted coldly. “Do not forgot whom you address Zahyzhak. You may be used to talking down to other beings, but remember exactly who and what I am.”
“Or rather what you were,” the entity replied snidely.
The figure paused for a long instance as if considering the situation. “I will not push the issue further, but heed my words, You best not interfere in the situations that are soon to unfold.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it?” Zahyzhak replied, only to realize the cloaked entity had already disappeared.
Zahyzhak motioned with a stray wisp of his essence towards another of his minions who appeared from the mist of the dead. “Raz’avil, you will got to New York, find the vampire James Connor and release his inner evil personified, order him to Los Angeles and say in return for his service we will give him more power. This creature Ripper only wishes power, when you change him he will try to attack you, beat him to the ground break every bone in his body and as you stand over his broken body offer him this and he will accept, stay clear of his sword if he has that he will be able to rend your body like no other do you understand”
Raz’avil bowed “as you wish master, but what of the little brother, is this another test of his character “
Lighted glowed from Zahyzhak’s eyes as he spoke “No this is to annoy that creature who denied me what was truly mine! “
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 4th, 2007
Night
New York
"Oh. I just love Brad Pitt!” Inés exclaimed and she overtly wiped her tears as the credits went by in the huge TV screen. She was curled on the plump sofa, leaning against James. He seemed bored out of his mind, but he had been happy to hold her hand while she sighed after the story.
He curled an eyebrow, and planted a kiss on her unruly curls. “He looks familiar, somehow,” he said.
Darlome got up and turned off the TV set, whinging something about ‘a chick flick’ under his breath. Inés chuckled and threw popcorn at him. “Don’t you complain. You made me watch ‘Die Hard’ for the eleventh time last week!” The demon just humphed and Inés chuckled again, snuggling against James.
As Darlome moved from the large living room into the hallway, then to the kitchen, he felt the world shimmer and the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up on end. Someone had used magic. “Hey guys, did you feel that?” shouted Darlome, but was left with the sound of something large being broken
Darlome grabbed a kitchen knife and charged into the living room to where he was met with the sight of James struggling with a large demon. “Aww shit!” screamed Darlome as he charged at the demon and stuck the large blade deep into its neck. But before Darlome could pull the knife out he was met with a backfist that sent him flying across the room and smashing into a large oak table. Unfortunately for Darlome the table didn’t break and he managed to bounce on it before he fell to the floor clutching his injured back. In all the commotion he hadn’t noticed the unmoving form of Inés lying on the floor.
He got to his feet in time to see the demon disappear into nothingness and watch as James rose to one knee off the ground, clutching his head. He moved slowly over to his best friend and put his hand on his shoulder. “James, are you ok?”
James began to giggle, which unnerved Darlome to no extent. “James isn’t home at the moment, would you like to leave a message?”
Before it had time to click, James was on Darlome, fangs bared and in game face and pinned his best friend to the ground closing in on his jugular.
Inés shook her head, completely overwhelmed by dizziness.* ¿Qué demonios pasó?* she wondered about what had happened, one moment she was having smoochies with her lover and the next her head was banging the wall *Connor!* the thought flashed through her mind, and she straightened, fear giving her strength.
The scene that greeted her sent shivers down her spine. There was Connor, vamped out, tearing Darlome’s throat open. Without thinking, Inés morphed and jumped on the pair; her powerful paws – unclawed, though - hit the vampire in the head, unlocking his terrible jaws from his friend’s neck.
“Connor!” she shouted, terrified of what she had done. She was relieved to see that the vampire didn’t seem much worse for it, anyway, just shaking his own head. She took a doubtful step towards him, why was he smiling like that? “Are you all right, amor?” She asked.
“Connor,” it spoke, “is Dead now. I’m home were I belong now”,
Inés eyes widened with fear; she had only heard the stories Darlome had told her about James’ alter ego Ripper. Fear was suddenly changing to terror.
“Now you fucking wet back, whore, I’m going to rape you and kill you, or perhaps I’ll kill you first then rape you. Let’s just see what happens, why don’t we?”
Ripper lunged at Inés, but was bounced off by an energy shield – momentarily knocking him to the floor. He turned to look at the demon Darlome, darkness seeping from his eyes.
“That’s a nice look for you ya, little yellow bastard!”
Darlome made a fast sweeping motion with his hand causing a large tentacle made entirely from shadow to slap James hard across the face, sending him flying across the room and out into the hallway.
Darlome moved quickly beside Inés and grabbed her by the arm. He closed his eyes and enchanted the words in his mind, with a small ripple in the air Darlome and Inés disappeared from the apartment and New York completely
Inés was overcome by nausea as she and Darlome materialized again. She closed her eyes against the radiance of the sun, and took a second to get together before opening her eyes. They were standing in a field, yellowish grass and a group of twisted trees, probably olives, was all there was on sight - not a house or person around. Inés staggered and felt Darlome’s strong hands steadying her. She turned her terrified eyes on the Asian demon, “where are we, Toto?” she said, in a weak voice.
“Greece,” the demon said weakly and suddenly his grip on her turned to tugging, Inés looked down at him slowly slopping to the ground and rushed to hold him. “There’s a hut, among the trees…” he managed to say before he fainted.
“Darlome! What’s wrong?” But she knew what was wrong, the demon had teleported them half the world away; he was exhausted, his power nearly depleted. She looked at the demon’s face, he had strain lines around his mouth and his oriental skin looked like parchment. He even seemed lighter. Inés bit her lip. A hut? Among the trees? She couldn’t see anything, but she had to try. With care, she took the demon and rested him on her shoulder, before setting into a light jog toward the olives.
New York
As Ripper destroyed the last of the dark tendril that was attacking him, he brushed himself off and looked around the apartment, he felt something just as before the demon appeared from nothingness
Before it had a chance to speak Ripper ran full pelt towards the demon, as he got closer to it, the creature raised his hand and Ripper felt the left side of his body burst into flames. Franticly he dropped to the ground and began to roll trying to put the flames out before he was totally engulfed, he burned for a few more seconds and the flames disappeared.
Ripper was with his face melted and his arm almost totally disintegrated as he looked into the eyes of the demon and tried to spit, but he could not gather saliva sufficient enough to do this.
“I…” spoke the demon with a slightly bemused tone, “Am Raz’avil servant of the great power Zahyzhak lord of vengeance of justice… and of all things the like.”
Ripper crawled towards Raz’avil and grabbed at his leg which he simply kicked him off and walked around the half dead Ripper to sit on the sofa and warp from his Demon form to his human’s.
“My master says you are the strongest of James personalities, the one that remembers all and has most control so you will know that I am of the same race as my Brother Vincent and with age - like Vampires - we gain in power. That alone is the only reason you were able to subdue Vincent all those months ago. Now, my master for whatever reason has decided that you are useful to him, he wants you to go to Los Angeles and serve him, and in return for this he will grant you great power. Increase your vampire powers to the point where you are no longer forced to be a bastard half-demon and a full blooded demon with the powers to match”
Ripper let out a growled acceptance “I’m not much use, half fucking dead now am I “
Raz’avil smiled. “No…no you’re not.” He held out his hand and a brilliant beam of white light exploded from it and forced itself down the badly disfigured mouth of the Ripper, healing his melted face and destroyed arm. As the Ripper slowly got to his feet to rip the through out of the demon he found himself alone in the room. He moved quickly to James room and tipped over the bed, grabbing at the large claymore and small axe, he began to toss lots of clothes into a suitcase, grabbed the keys for the armored van and moved swiftly down to the elevator in to the underground garage.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, October 2 2007
5:45 AM - Los Angeles (at last!)
Even as the sun threatened to peek over the horizon, Benji drove on into the city unafraid. "We're here," he declared to his passenger before turning down a long boulevard. Julia rose to her knees and pulled back the van window's thin curtain, staring into the morning smog. "Well, it's been two months. Let's see what's changed…if anything."
The weeks after the "Tash War" had been devastating for Bob's Bar. To hear Bob tell it, one would think every vampire and demon in the Los Angeles area had gone extinct. Well, that was how he would describe it. But the truth was that many of the dark minions that had fought on Tash's side of the battle fled LA, at least for the time being. When no vampires returned to Youth Hostile, Benji and Julia assumed they would be leaving the city for good. Their delightfully harrowing vacation made sure that that was not the case.
Benji watched each corner and each store, and remembered LA. That street over there led him to San Pedro, where he once vandalized a hardware store--in his human days. That other street over there is almost near the place where he was sired. He didn't remember now exactly how to get to the parking lot he awoke in, but he was also sure that it had been finished by now. He was almost sure that it was nearby the complex of warehouses where not too long ago he killed his best friend. Ahh…the memories. Too many damn memories.
"Sun's coming," Julia reminded Benji. She shoved her curtains closed and ducked down under her blanket.
"I know, but we're almost there," he grunted and slammed his foot down, pressing the pedal firmly to the metal.
5:50 AM - Youth Hostile
"Get inside!" Benji commanded as he screeched to a halt outside Youth Hostile's door. Without hesitation Julia heeded his strong suggestion and dashed inside, wooly blanket around her head like an old woman but giggling like a school child. After a brief moment, Benji also darted through the door, slamming it behind him to lock out the approaching sunlight. He casually tossed the van keys to an end-table sitting near the door and slid off his black jacket. "Jules--anyone here?"
Julia bellowed from the other end of the living room, the doorway adjacent to the kitchen. "Don't see anyone here, Benj." She poked her head into the kitchen to see the dirty table and the smelly refrigerator. Filthy, just as she left them.
"I guess this demonic exodus is more than a temporary thing," Benji sighed, tossing himself lengthwise onto the couch.
"Well, we could probably go an' check Bob's to make sure no one's been looking for us."
Benji shrugged. "Eh." Sliding an arm behind his head, Benji craned his neck to look at Julia. "We're shut-ins for at least a few hours. And I don't think I'm ready to visit Bob's yet. It's like we're settling in already--we're not even sure if we're going to stay."
Julia frowned. "What am I s'posed to do?" she pouted. "If we ain't going to the bar, then what will we do tonight?"
Benji raised his other arm above him, twirling his hand in busy circles. "We can still go and hunt, if you want. I guess I could eat. More choice vittles for us now that everyone else is lying low, too."
Julia continued to whine. "What are we doing until then?"
"We've got two-and-a-half floors all to ourselves right now, Julia. Just…I don't know, enjoy it." Benji groaned and kicked a ratty throw pillow off the couch and into Julia's direction.
Julia dodged the cushion nimbly. “Hey—Benj! Did you look at the door?” She tip-toed towards the portal as if suddenly remembering something from long ago.
Benji sat up and turned his upper body. “What?”
Julia pointed slyly to the door. “The note!” she whispered. “The note you left. About the Black Veins leadership. It’s gone.”
Benji rolled his eyes. “Julia, it could have blown away. Or been torn up by rain, or any other element.” He nestled back into the couch’s bulges. “Just forget I ever wrote that.” But he knew she couldn’t, and he would not. He offered up the leadership of the Black Veins to whoever felt as if they could do better than Tash Brookes. The note probably wore away, but he didn’t like to think about the alternative.
“If someone else took the note…you think they?” Benji didn’t answer, didn’t want to. But he knew that Julia needed answers now more than anything.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Oct 6th, 2007 11:58
Bob's Bar
The bar was teaming with life when the fae entered, more proof that LA was playing host to more and more demons these days. Anywhere out of these walls, the majority of them would probably be considered the man’s enemies, but inside this dingy little bar, all man, vampire, demon and beast were equal, and the norms of good guy/bad guy just didn’t seem to apply (which was good, because with the number of vamps and demons at the various tables, Darian would have been hard pressed to fight the good fight).
Pulling out a barstool, the fae waited eagerly for Bob to show; boy he needed a drink now, probably a double, or even a triple after the night he had.
35 mins earlier
One of those dark and dingy back alleys
The demon’s two hands caught hold of Darian’s wrists and forced his arms upwards, leaving his body unprotected as its other two arms began laying into the fae, punch after punch slamming painfully into his gut and ribs. As if it wasn’t bad enough, the demon’s vampire companion was laughing in the background, waiting patiently to feed.
“What’s wrong hunter? Not up for a fight tonight?” the demon bellowed as he moved on up from Darian’s torso and began hitting his face.
“Come on Grahk, finish him off, I’m fricken straving!” the vampire quipped in, almost bored and not the least bit concerned.
And at that moment, Darian couldn’t really argue with him; he hadn’t put up much of a fight since the two ambushed him. Unluckily, they spotted Darian just as he had finished dusting two newly risen vamps, and they didn’t have the courtesy to give him a second to catch his breath.
Moving closer to the battle the scrawny vampire began to lick his lips. “Ok buddy, gimme a crack at him.”
Before Darian knew what was happening, the assault of punches stopped. “If you insist John,” the massive four-armed demon sighed disappointedly, not wanting to take a break in the pain he was dishing out. Spinning the fae around, Grahk’s vice like grip never loosened from Darian’s wrists as he held him firmly in place. “Take your best shot Johnny boy!”
Taking a step back, the vampire spun around intending to land a roundhouse kick where Grahk had been working the man over, but it was not to be. In the last second, the hunter called on every last ounce of strength he had in reserve, flipping backwards to land on Grahk’s huge shoulders just as John’s foot connected with his friends stomach instead. As the wind was knocked out of his sales, the big demon finally let go of Darian’s wrists, giving him opportunity to go on the offensive.
“Aww shit man, I didn’t mean to hit you,” the vamp apologized, not realizing at this point that the nimble faery had already made his way in back of him.
“Thanks for helping me out Johnny boy” Darian said as his fingers quickly wrapped around the stake in his back pocket and jammed it into his adversary’s heart.
“One down, one to …”
Four fists came flying through the cloud of dust formerly known as John, two of which managing to find their target. Knocked flat on his ass, Darian’s head now swam with visions of stars and black spots.
“You’re going to pay for dusting my buddy asshole!” Grahk roared as he hoisted Darian back to his feet and began beating him savagely.
“We can helllllp you Darian, ” a familiar voice offered from the dark recesses of his mind.
Ignoring the voice, the fae tried to put up a counter attack, but one of the monster’s many hands caught Darian’s fist mid-swing.
“Ahhhhh!” The man writhed in pain as Grahk began to crush his captured hand.
“ Let ussss helllp ”
Another huge hand suddenly shot out, wrapping around Darian’s neck, as the demon’s other two free hands once again began the assault on his ribs.
“You need our helllp
Releasing Darian’s now shattered hand, the newly freed paw joined its peer in strangling the life from the hunters body. As the colour drained from his face, Darian could hear the giant demon cackle with excitement.
“Your body is dying Darian, you haven’t much time…”
A stifled gurgle fell from the hunter’s bloody mouth as he desperately tried to pry Grahk’s hands off, but it was no use, the demon was just too strong.
“No one can defeat the great mighty Grahk!” it bellowed prematurely as s glint of dark purple flashed in Darian’s eyes.
“What’s going on!” the demon roared sensing new life erupt in his victim. Before he knew what was happening, Darian’s hands were once again working to undue his vice like grip, but this time they were successful.
The demon looked from his hands to his prey’s now smirking visage “It can’t be. I am undefeatable!”
With a wicked laugh, the fae pointed at the demon with but a single finger, and the huge beast was launched high into the air, landing roughly at the far end of the alley.
“Undefeatablllle indeed,” the man snickered as he strode confidently forwards.
Rising to his feet, the demon roared in anger “How dare you insult me! I’ll rip you limb from limb!”
“We highlllly doubt that,” Darian replied mockingly as an ebony bladed sword appeared in his hand.
“Your puny weapon doesn’t scare me!”
The fae chuckled once more. “Then you are stupider than we thought.”
Darian shivered involuntarily as he stepped over Grahk’s headless corpse. The last 5 minutes were a complete blur to him, and honestly he didn’t remember just how he managed to beat the four armed beast. At least he’s dead and not me, and that’s what’s important he told himself as he limped out of the alley. I think it’s definitely time to call it a night.
Present time.
“Hey, hey big guy, long time no see,” Bob smiled as he appeared before Darian. The bartender actually liked the White Hat because he was about the only one who never threatened or beat him up for information, and that definitely scored the fae major brownie points. “So what can I get you on this fine evening?”
“Surprise me Bob, all I ask is that you make it strong.”
“Maybe I spoke too soon when I said ‘fine evening’,” Bob replied. “Had yourself a rough night?”
A cynical smirk crossed Darian’s face. “You could say that again.”
Bob gave a sympathetic frown as he slid the man a glass of JD. “So what is it tonight? Problems with the underworld or with the Mrs?”
“I have to pick just one?”
3 Hour Ago
Darian’s Apartment.
He was just about to head to the door when a pair of loving arms wrapped around him from behind. “Where are you headed love?” Liala purred into his ear as she pressed her body against his back. “I though tonight we might - ”
“I’m going patrolling,” he replied flatly, as he gently detached her tiny hands from around his chest.
“Again?” she shot back, her tone much frostier than a second ago. “But you’ve gone out like every night this week.”
“Someone has to try and keep the streets safe, what with the sudden inflow of demons and vamps we seem to be having.”
Narrowing her eyes, the former undine gave her lover a suspicious look. “You know, that’s why mortals have police people or whatever you call them. Its their job to keep LA safe.”
Rolling his eyes, Darian turned around to face his girl-friend. “Yeah cause they’re a big help when it comes to vampire and demons. Seriously Liala,” he said letting out an annoyed sigh.
“I just don’t see why you have to go out every night!”
“Well gee Lia, maybe ill just stroll on upstairs and ask Tash to go patrolling in my place – except oh wait she’s dead. Or you know, maybe ill call Kate…oh shucks, she’s gone also.” His temper was beginning to uncharacteristically fire up as he began speaking louder and louder. “Even better, ill just ask Daye to go but you know what? For whatever reason, she’s given up the fight all together! So to answer your question, YES I have to go out every night!”
There was a moment of silence as Liala looked her man over. “You’re behavior’s starting to scare me Darian,” she said calmly, making sure he knew that she would not be intimidated. “You’re becoming obsessed.”
Ssssshe’s trying to controllll you, prevent you from helllping peoplllle
“I’m doing this to help people Liala,” he echoed the voice in his head as he turned his back on her and headed back to the door. “Stop being so selfish.”
“It’s not your fault they’re dead Darian,” she said harshly, no longer able to control her own temper.
“Whatever.”
Present time
“Well big guy, whatever happened with you and you’re girl, I’m sure things will work themselves out,” Bob said kindheartedly as he poured another glass for the man. “No girl can stay mad at a studly hero.”
Darian smiled half heartedly. “So how much do I owe you?”
“Tonight, its on the house.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday Oct 7th, 2007 1:00 AM
Bob's Bar
The clunking vehicle rattled to a dead stop outside the divey little bar and two young people emerged. These youngsters--vampires, of course--had come to see what had become of their old haunting grounds. Where have our people gone, they wondered? What have they done without us? One vampire, the male--the one in charge of the two--had only a passing curiosity. The other, the female--the one so clearly attached to the other's hip--craved answers. Tonight was the night for answers, she told herself. And she couldn't think straight for all the anticipation.
So they entered the establishment as they had dozens of times before. An in doing so they discovered a scene that, only a few months ago, they would have believed impossible.
"Damn, Jules," Benji Law muttered. "The place is packed."
The female's face quivered from a gentle grin to a fully-realized smile, followed by a laugh and a sigh of relief. "Look at it, Benj. They're coming back..."
Over at the bar, a lone White Hat sat, his umpteenth JD half finished before him. Had he not had super human blood in his veins he would most definitely be tanked off his ass, but thankfully he was somewhere between loose and tipsy..maybe closer to the latter of the two.
“Top me off Bob.”
“Another one?” the bartender replied surprised as he reached for the bottle. “Maybe you should slow down big guy.”
“The night is still young my friend.”
“Bob!” Julia called to the bartender. She ran to the counter and slammed her palms down on its shiny, booze-soaked surface. “Business is back to normal, I see?” She rolled herself onto a stool and spun a quarter-turn.
The old bartender nodded. “Normal? My normal crowd was never this big,” he jested.
“Doesn’t make sense, really, all the thirsty demons nowadays, especially after the whole battle. But I don’t stare gift-horses in the face, so I ain’t speculatin’.”
Benji bellied up to the bar as well, glancing down the way at the youngish man nearby. Turning back to Bob, Benji sighed. “Well, at least that wasn’t the end of evil in LA. If Tash were here, I’m sure she’d be glad to see this town back on its feet…”
“What did you say?”
Surprisingly enough, it was that same ‘youngish man’ who now seemed to be addressing them. Although he didn’t seem to turn his attention away from the glass in front of him, there was no one else around he could be talking to.
“I asked you two a question.” Finally the man put down his glass and turned slightly on his seat so he could face them, his strange purple eyes scanning the two vamps over.
Benji was slightly startled at the young man’s reaction. “Erm…what?” After a moment of considering his words, he realized. “Oh! You mean…what do you know about Natasha…?”
Julia leaned over the bar and looked harder at the man. “Ooh! Did you know her?” she asked him eagerly.
Darian’s eyes narrowed as he took another swig from his glass. “Yeah I did. So you two leaches better watch what you say,” he said stiffly, before turning his back to them. The two didn’t seem very old and if it came down to it he was sure he could take them, but really he was hoping they dropped the subject cause he didn’t want to get into another fight this night.
Benji scoffed as Bob came around to slip a glass of blood before him. “Hey now—I wasn’t going to say anything derogatory, my man. Natasha Brookes was…she was a hero! An inspiration. The way she raised her army of the damned is in itself legend-material.” Julia nodded, sipping her glass innocently.
Taking a glance back at the vampiress, the fae’s stone cold face broke into a tiny smirk. Whether it was the alcohol in him or not, he couldn’t help but find it amusing that whatever side she was playing for, good or bad, Tash had managed to be an inspiration and leader.
“Which army of the damned? You referring to the little vampire troop we snuffed out back in July, or the zombie nation she raised when the Watchers' Council was in town? Regardless,” he finished seeing they clearly didn’t catch the zombie comment, “she was something.”
For a second, Darian almost scolded himself. Was he really conversing with these vampires? Shit, he had probably killed a little over a dozen in the last few weeks, two tonight, and here he was starting to chat with two more. But then again, this was Bob’s and everything was fair play here, no one would judge him from what he did within these four walls, so why should he judge himself?
Benji perked up. “Oh! You’re one of her little…um, ‘White Hats’, then? Well that’s just…”
“Neat,” Julia intoned. “Neat little coincidence.”
Benji smiled lightly. “Yes. Quite a fight.”
Julia shoved Benji back slightly. “I was in more of it than he was,” she bragged to the fae. “Almost got your witches, you know.” She had a small sense of pride for her part in the battle, even if the witches eventually got loose and killed many of her cohorts anyway.
“Did you now?” Darian replied as he motioned Bob to bring him three shots of something strong; he definitely needed more alcohol. “Well you know what missy, you should be happy to hear that those two witches are gone. Yep, one is dead, most likely, and the other, who the hell knows what wrong with her, but she isn’t a champion anymore,” he answered cynically, talking more to himself than to the girl.
Bob arrived with the tray of shots, and the fae signaled the two vampires to take one. “To Tash,” he said, lifting the little glass and swallowing the contents quickly.
Benji grinned. “Yeah, all right.” He lifted a glass and handed it to Julia. “To Tash.”
“Tash,” Julia repeated, suddenly somber.
They swallowed their shots and took a moment to consider what they were doing. Were they...sharing drinks with the enemy? It seemed that they were.
"So...you look like you've had a busy night," Benji observed. "What's up?"
“Actually I killed two of your buddies tonight, rumbled with a four armed demon and had a fight with my girlfriend, so yeah pretty busy.” Before Benji could respond, Darian turned his attention to Julia. “So you were at the big battle in July eh? I thought you looked familiar. You’re lucky I didn’t dust you,” he said seriously before cracking up in a small giggle. Yep more alcohol was good.
Though Benji felt a bit slighted, he shrugged it off and motioned to Bob for more drink. Julia nodded to Darian. “You know, I did lose someone very close to me that night. One of your big purple demons got him…tore him to pieces.” She looked sad for a moment, then raised her head to look Darian in the eyes. “But no hard feelings.”
The harder she stared at the man, the more attractive he became. And his purple eyes! That was something. It was something she remembered hearing from an ally on the battlefield! “Wait a minute. You actually fought Tash, right?”
“Three times actually,” he said, smiling bitter sweetly. “Actually before you and your friends showed up that night she shot me square in the shoulder,” he motioned, patting where the bullet had hit him. “Thank god for superhuman reflexes or I wouldn’t be here talking with two vampires.” Yeah it sounded as ridiculous out loud as it did in his head. Still, the girl vampire seemed nice, as far as vampires went, he thought as he gave her a brief smile, and by this point in the night, he was to tired and drunk to care anymore.
*Superhuman?* Julia thought to herself. *A-ha!*
“Do you remember Larry?” Julia blurted to Benji.
“I think so. Bald guy, kinda fat. A vamp from way back when. Yeah, I remember. Why?”
Julia brushed back strands of her reddish hair. “Well when Tash was heading out from YH, and she brought a couple of guards with her, she had a few posted nearby. Larry was one of them. He said he saw some…I dunno. A creature, perhaps. A wolf, I think he said. But when he looked back after the fight, there wasn’t any wolf…”
Benji yawned. “And when did he have the time to tell you this?”
Julia tapped against her glass. “Oh, about a minute or so before he was dusted. But…” She didn’t finish, instead directing he eyes to Darian.
“Wait. Let me see if I follow,” Benji groaned. “My man, please tell me that my friend here is just whacked out of her gourd…”
He chuckled lightly as he took yet another sip. “Guilty as charged. Kinda cool actually once you get past the urge to sniff other animals’ butts. Just kidding,” he added smirking at his own joke. “Can do a lot of other cool stuff to. I guess you weren’t paying attention when I was dusting and frying everyone that night. Honestly, it’s a bit of a blur but from what I hear I was on a roll. And then you get nights like tonight where things aren’t as easy,” on that note he rubbed his sore jaw where Grahk and hit him repeatedly.
Julia sighed. “Yeah, a lot of it’s lost to me, too.” She picked up the glass that Bob had recently refilled. “I think I repressed a lot of that night. So did Benji.” She nudged her companion.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. We really took it on the chin.”
Julia laughed. “That’s not where we took it, Benj. But it’s nice to know that sometimes even the other side feels the same.” She leaned her head on her hand and stared at Darian with dreamy eyes. “So, this girlfriend of yours…”
Benji rolled his eyes. *God! Get a room!* he thought.
“Not really supporting the whole hunting these days,” he answered honestly, completely oblivious to her googly eyes. “Yeah it’s dangerous, but if I didn’t do it, who would stop you guys from eating all the innocent people in LA? I guess its kinda sweet right? That she’s concerned and all, but..uh…oh man I don’t know, sometimes…,” he sighed thinking regretfully back to earlier in the night and how he had spoken to her.
“It’s important to be with someone who shares your interests,” Benji advised him with mock concern. The man was probably too drunk to catch the hint of his sarcasm. “Jules, shall we?” he asked his companion while motioning to the door.
“Just a sec,” Julia agreed. Turning back to Darian, she extended a hand. “Julia Stife,” she announced bravely. She turned to Benji expectantly.
“Right—the name’s Benji Law.” He patted the fae heartily on the back.
“We’ll, uh, see you around?” Julia asked impulsively.
“Hopefully not before the buzz wears off,” Benji smirked. He grabbed Julia by the hand and began to head for the door.
“Wait!” Julia called while she tottered on her heels. “What’s your name?”
“Darian Gray,” he called back. “and like your friend said, you better hope you don’t see me around cause outside of here, I’m afraid I’ll have to dust you,” he said still smiling in a way that made Julia unsure of whether or not he was serious.
All Julia could do was tilt her head and wonder at the possibilities. Just when she'd gone and made a connection with Benji--after all this time--her eye was already wandering. Maybe what everyone always said about her was true: she was, emotionally at least, little more than a child.
As she and Benji darted for the van, they came to realize that they didn't know why they were running. And the answers that Julia had come to find bloomed surprisingly into more questions.
"Benji?" Julia whispered.
"Yeah?" the Asian vampire replied distractedly.
"Never mind." The pair climbed aboard the van and rode away from that place, again unsure of what impact, if any, this encounter had made on their lives.
Daye muses on the last few months
Monday, October 8th, 2007 7:00 pm
Daye sat alone on the bench in the dark, empty park. She pretended to be engrossed in the small phone flipped open in her hand as she listened to the soft sound of Los Angeles by night. The sun had sunk behind the mountains nearly an hour ago, and the usual crowds of kids and parents had given way to the sad legions of vagabonds and criminals that inhabited these parks and playgrounds after the day came to an end. Daye had come here after leaving the Bibliophile at the end of another twelve hour day. Sam was home with Maia, probably had some sort of meal waiting, and that was precisely why Daye was sitting alone on this bench. She didn’t want to go home to Sam’s bewildered sympathy or Maia’s accusatory silence. Weeks had passed since Drew’s death, weeks since she’d laid her husband, her friend, and her faith to rest. And every day was just a little bit harder, just a little bit colder.
Daye had heard little from the other White Hats. She’d deliberately not returned their calls and had taken to hiding out if one or another of them showed up at the restaurant. She didn’t have the energy to deal with another pending apocalypse, and she couldn’t seem to muster even the slightest interest in the latest power play between good and evil. She’d avoided them all on a social level as well. She’d avoided everyone. For weeks, it had been work and bits of sleep, broken up only by the intermittent plea from Sam to do something…anything.
Sam. Poor, poor Sam. Daye knew that he had more on his plate then just her problems. She knew, but like everything else, she couldn’t seem to rouse herself enough to even care about that. She loved Sam. Goddess Above, as much as she might wish it otherwise, she loved Sam and Maia with all that she was. They were her family, all that she had left in this cold, capricious world. She just didn’t want to get involved in what Sam was now involved with, because following Tash’ death, Sam was the head of the Foundation now. Unfortunately, the Foundation was too closely tied to the White Hats for Daye. Both organizations ultimately served The Powers that Be, and Daye would never willingly serve such malicious masters again. She’d vowed as much the night of Tash’s final dispatchment, and she intended to keep that vow.
Daye sighed, feeling exhausted and alone. She’d never been the kind of person who could keep to herself without feeling it keenly. She loved openly and easily, always forming fast and lasting friendships. But now, if she’d admit it to no one else and at no other time then in moments of weakness, Daye was afraid. She was afraid of those friendships, of the close ties that seemed only to leave heartache and guilt in their wake. She never wanted to have cause to feel as betrayed, as broken, as she had the night Drew’s blood had poured through her fingertips. She didn’t need, didn’t want to need anyone else. If not for Sam and Maia she would have withdrawn herself completely. And logically, consciously, Daye could acknowledge the fear that drove her, but that didn’t mean she could overcome it.
Alessa had called her many times, but Daye had not returned a single one of those calls. She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to be involved. Surprisingly, the only friend who seemed willing to let her be was Kate. Kate, the person she’d once been closest to, had not called, not come by. Apparently the other witch understood Daye as no one else could.
*Or she’s glad to be rid of me,* Daye thought coldly. And really who could blame “Saint Katherine” for feeling that way. She never faltered, while Daye herself was full of flaws and had a penchant for fucking things up in the biggest way possible. It was better this way, better not to have to feel Kate’s pity or her judgment. Kate could go on fighting the good fight. Daye was through, and she was too sick and tired to care if Kate found her pathetic or unworthy at this point.
Daye heard the softest rustle in the bushes near her bench. She didn’t glance up, but she let her inner senses open up and detected the crouched undead watching her under the cover of darkness. She grinned mirthlessly and stood, feeling nothing at all. She turned towards her would be attacker. In a voice devoid of feeling, she spoke. “I’ve no quarrel with you, Vampire, but I’m not easy pickings. Go on and find a simpler meal, because if you continue with this plan, you’ll be ashes before you know it.”
Daye heard a soft chuckle. She rolled her eyes as the vampire stood up from behind the bushes, watching her with an arrogant smile. “You sure do look like easy pickings, pretty lady. You look like you could care less about going on in this world, so why not just bend your pretty neck and let me take all your worries away.”
“Because, as hard as it is, this is my life, and I’m not about to give it up for you anymore than I would for them. Just move on,” Daye suggested. “That’s my final offer.”
The vampire shrugged and Daye saw his muscles tighten as he prepared to strike. She raised a hand and Latin phrases flew from her lips as a bright ray of light sprang from her outturned palm. The vampire’s eyes widened in surprise as the light engulfed him and he fell in a cloud of dust. Daye brushed some of it from her clothes and shrugged. She strode away from her park bench, heading for home as if the encounter had never even happened.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday, October 7 2007
2:15 AM - Youth Hostile
The door to the makeshift inn and hideout creaked as Julia closed it behind her thoughtfully. Benji walked to the living room table and plunked down the van keys and his magic eight ball. He raised his arms above his head, resulting in an audible crack of his spine. Benji ran his hand through his hair and put his other hand on his side. He turned back to Julia, still lingering by the door.
"Did you want to go hunting later?" Benji asked.
Julia shook her head and said she did. "But I'm going up to my room first." She glanced at the ragged couch sitting next to Benji. "You going to sleep down here again? We've been back for like five days and you haven't been in your room once."
Benji threw his jacket onto the sofa and leaned gently against the wall. "Every room is my room, Jules. And your room. You saw Bob's--the population's back in bloom. No one's shown up here, so I assume this place is ours now." He snickered softly at that word--"ours". He never expected to say "ours" in association with Julia.
Julia mumbled and trudged up the stairs. She came to her room, her cats playing inside. The room smelled lightly of roses and perfume--her enhanced senses could tell even before she opened the door. But she didn't stop here. Something compelled her to move further down the hall. The room at the very end of the hall was Rose's, which she did not choose to explore tonight. The room down at the opposite end was where Tash had stayed a few nights. She decided to go into that one.
Once inside the door, Julia sank to the floor and sat cross-legged. She traced her finger along the bare floorboards. She felt the dust, and felt connected to those that were now one with the dust. She felt connected to Rosie, Natasha, and Walter. Julia imagined that she was running her hand through their ashes, the "sand" they left behind. *Magical sand,* Julia told herself. She dreamed it was Larry's ashes--fat, bald, observant Larry--and sighed. She rested her head against the apartment wall and closed her eyes. Her exotic escapades through the American West were fantasies. Has she been asleep? This, the dust, was her reality. She saw this now.
She thought for a second about Darian Gray. She didn't know why. It was her first non-combat encounter with a killer of her kind, and to her surprise it wasn't entirely unpleasant. He was even cute. She shook her head and smiled. "He was gorgeous!" she told herself out loud, then laughed at the absurdity of talking out loud to no one at all. What she also found surprising was Darian's perspective. Naturally, in his view, Benji and Julia, and Tash after all, were nothing but killers and monsters to be killed. Julia pounded her fist onto the floor. In her view, vampires were normal, and humans were just food, or lower--possibly akin to ants or rodents! She felt disappointed that Darian, so clearly beyond human, didn’t share her feeling on mortals. Julia wished, just once, that she could just have it her way. Take her vision of reality, shove it into Darian's head, into Benji's head, and just have them see what she wanted them to see. She giggled at the thought.
Downstairs, a young body lay cold and unmoving. He had always been desperately alone, but remained persistently resistant to company and comfort. He was unloving, in his mind, but not unloved. Even he realized this and it shamed him. He was always too embarrassed to feel embarrassed, and so he kept those little insights privately tucked away. But again, he knew that there was no help for it. People would love him despite the fact that he would not love them back; Julia--who simpered and giggled and was for the most part obedient. Joy, his sister, and his parents, whom he forced away from him. Even Rhymer, long dead best friend and confidant, loved him. He wouldn't even have confronted Benji if there were no love there. So Benji Law rested, cold and unmoving, cold and unmoved.
Benji thought for a minute about Darian Gray, not quite certain why.
Upstairs, Julia's eyes snapped open to a tiny scratching noise. A rodent, maybe? "Gross!" Julia shouted. She was a demonic minion of evil now, sure, but rodents were just plain icky. She stood and stomped on the floor. "Shoo, wherever you are," she threatened. A thought arose. "Just you wait, little bastards. I'm gonna get my kitties. Then you'll die." As Julia stepped to the door, she heard the skittering of several creatures behind her. She turned as one leapt up towards her face.
With super-fast reflexes she batted the thing away from her, turned and ran down the hall to the stairs. "Benji!" she called, a crowd of the little things hot on her heels. She found Benji lying silently on the coffee table, eyes dead and open. He slept like that, she supposed. "Benji!" she repeated, this time breaking the vamp from his stare. She bolted to his side and clasped a hand over his mouth, the other hand over her own mouth.
"Whudufikiddis?" came Benji's muffled grunt.
As he mumbled Julia pulled her head down, burying her face in his chest. A swarm of the creatures ran fluidly down the stairs, and Benji spotted a few on the ceiling above him. His eyes widened, but the creatures did not descend. Instead, the whole squealing flock crawled over the couple, passing them without interest, and exited by squeezing under the front door. As they left, Julia gasped and lifted away from Benji.
"What the Hell are they doing here?" Julia shrieked.
"Damn it," Benji growled, rising from the table. "The White Hat. Darian Gray. I knew he couldn't let this go! He called those…those things on us, those…" He looked down to see Julia's startled reaction. "What?"
Julia shook her head. "No, Benji. You know those things. They were summoned, all right. Tash had them summoned. To join the battle….remember?" She had a curious look.
Benji stammered. "I…I didn't recognize them. It was so…so fast…"
Julia stepped up to his face. "They survived the fight, and probably came back here to await Tash. When I went in her room I probably woke them up…you mean you don't remember them?"
Benji silently paced away from Julia. "I just forgot a lot about that night, okay?"
"You were kinda silent back at Bob's. You know, when we were talking about the fight." She bit her lip lightly as she waited for an answer.
Quickly and without facing Julia Benji grabbed up his eight ball, shook it, and stayed quiet. He finally turned to her, both hands clasped around his eight ball, and inched closer. "Julia, I didn't recognize those things because…I wasn't at the fight."
Julia's jaw dropped. "What the Hell are you talking about? Benji! What were you doing?" She stomped her foot like an angry toddler. "Tell me!"
"I was killing Rose Bellwether," he said without inflection.
"Damn you, Benji! Why?" A pained look crossed Julia's face.
Benji raised his hands and the orb within them. "A decision was made. It had to be done."
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Wednesday, 25 July 2007
1: 00 AM - an LA alleyway
***FLASHBACK***
Blocks from Youth Hostile, a woman walked--strong, confident, with dark brown skin. She marched regally down the side-street, oblivious to any danger, as she was flanked by two vampire guards. Their aid was of questionable value, but danger didn't concern the powerful vampire. Danger was in her blood; it was how she lived. The African vampire turned down an inconspicuous alley and threw open her long black cloak. She wore a long black skirt, impossible to see in the night, especially when hidden from moonlight by the alley shadows. She motioned for her guards to leave her as a voice boomed from an above fire escape.
"Rose Bellwether," the voice beckoned.
"Mm-hmm," Rosie replied. She lit a cigarette and pressed it to her lips before continuing. "It's me," she said with a vague gesture. In her hand was a small metallic lighter, which she slipped into her robe pocket.
"Always punctual," the dark figure commended her. "You know there's a war on, right?"
Rose shook her head and puffed. "If it ain't on now, it's about to be. That's why I'm here and not there. Don't care to get my hands dirty, not anymore."
The voice laughed lightly. "How far we have come," the dark one sighed. "Look at you, and all the power you wield. Why, when I scooped you out of the Black Veins' ranks you were but a mere servant."
Rose nodded. "Servant' I'll give ya. As long as you didn't say 'slave', we're fine." She blew a smoke ring and smiled. "You know, I told the boy that I was the last Black Vein in existence. His friends just ate that up. Should've seen them! It was like I was the last dodo or T-Rex or something…"
The dark figure interrupted gently. "The tyrannosaurus isn't extinct, you know. Merely misplaced. We had them relocated…oh, but that was a long time ago. Please, continue."
"Interesting." Rose craned her neck upward to the fire escape. "Anyway, if the kid knew the vampire legions I command, his mind would pop!"
The dark one's voice lowered. "And…Natasha Brookes?"
Rose hissed between her teeth, small smoke bursts winding from her lips. "Smart, that one. Smarter than I gave her credit for, and I'm glad I didn't kill her outright." The dark one was silent, and Rose spoke quickly to correct herself before her boss took it the wrong way. "I mean, I wouldn't have killed her. I know that she's…you know."
"She's the one I'm here for," Rose's boss replied.
A rattling of garbage from the end of the alley sent a few rats running, and another dark shape slid nearer. "And why would you want Natasha Brookes?" Benji Law asked coldly. "Who the Hell are you, anyway?"
"Benji," Rose greeted. "I was wondering when you'd show yourself. Of course I knew you were there." She glanced slyly at her master.
Benji scoffed at her, spat on the ground, and stepped very close. "It's funny--you didn't seem to want Tash anywhere near the Black Veins at first. I thought it was a miracle, actually, when you came around." He crossed his arms and glared into the darkness of the fire escape, where Rose's boss stood motionlessly waiting. "Apparently, she was the one you wanted for the job all along, am I right?"
"Apparently," Rose cooed. "You're smarter than you look, kid."
"Not that smart," Benji corrected her. "But smart enough to know when you're up to something." He shook his head and smiled smugly. "You manipulated us, every one of us, just to get to her?"
"She did," the dark shape whispered. "She is."
Benji ignored the mysterious person above him. "You suckered in Walt and Julia to get to me…"
"And I told you what you wanted to hear, didn't I?" Rose taunted. "So they weren't the only patsies, kiddo."
"And you used me to get to Tash. How did you even know--" Benji ceased to continue, instead casting a glance up at the dark shape. "You manipulated me, Rose."
Rose whipped her cloak around in front of Benji's face, distracting him and allowing her a good slap to Benji's cheek. "And now, I'm kicking your ass," she laughed. As Benji rocked back on his heels Rosie pulled away and called to her vampire guards. Two vampires darted into the alley as Rose made her way for the fire escape.
Benji looked up in time to see a muscular female vampire hurl her fist into his chest. Landing on the cement a few feet away, Benji heard a small crack. His eight ball rolled from his pocket, eventually settling against a pile of discarded boxes. The female vamp lunged again, this time landing on Benji's body.
"Get the fuck away!" Benji cursed, raising his fingers in claw-like pose to gouge the vamp's face. The vampire reeled back screaming, giving Benji the chance to rise and run for the fire ladder. The other vampire, a viscous and wiry male, landed a flying kick on Benji's side. Benji winced at the blow, then lurched back and jabbed the vampire in the jaw. Benji bent down to scoop up his eight ball and dashed to the ladder, holding his side all the way.
He reached the lower level of the escape and flew past Rose's dark mentor. Black sunglasses, black leather--like someone out of The Matrix, that was all he could see. Maybe that's why Rose ripped off the movie so damn much. Benji didn't get a closer look.
"You could join us," the dark boss sang while Benji was halfway up metal staircase.
"Sorry," Benji snapped. "I'm kinda busy right now…"
Flinging himself onto the roof, Benji looked around hurriedly to see where Rose could have gone. He looked past a pile of oil canisters and the rooftop access shed, where he saw her fleeing shadow. "Did you hear me? You manipulated me, Rose!"
"You let that ball manipulate you all the time!" she called.
"Because I let it." He scanned the rooftop once again. "You didn't get permission. He stalked closer to where he last saw her run. "Was everything you told me a lie?"
"Does it matter?"
Benji growled. "Dammit, Rose! It's the only thing that matters! Nothing matters but our purpose, why we're here and where we're going!"
Rose burst from around the corner of the access shed and knocked Benji down. "Then let me tell you your purpose, Benji. You're only purpose in life was to get Tash to me, to get her on my master's team. Well, mission accomplished, son. Time to die!" She raised her foot to stomp on Benji, but he rolled swiftly away.
He jumped to his feet in a defensive stance. As his focused on Rose's next possible attack, he also noticed that he was being watched. Several dozen dark shapes, possibly more, watched the struggle from nearby roofs. * Vampires *, Benji sensed. "Friends of yours, Rose?"
Rose chuckled. "Highly-trained friends, and there's a hundred more where they came from. You know, at my signal they could sweep in and probably help ol' Tash win the day." She glanced around at her followers with sadistic glee. "Of course, if you kill me now, they'll be gone."
Benji cracked his neck. "Yeah?" Leaning back, Benji swung his foot towards a half-empty oil canister. With bizarre, almost accidental accuracy it flew into Rose's stomach, the nozzle spraying a good amount of fluid onto the vamp. Despite the impact of the object, Rose stood calmly staring at Benji. Benji smiled deviously at her, raising his eight-ball.
"You really gonna sacrifice our victory? Yes, I said 'our' victory, kid. Are you throwing that down the drain just 'cause you don't like being lied to and manipulated?"
"I guess." He shrugged, and lifted his other hand. Within it he revealed a small metal lighter, the same one that had been in Rose Bellwether's pocket until her mad flight across the roof. "You said it yourself--if there is a bigger picture, then we should decide how we get there."
"Tash will die. Your friends will die. Unless you let me save them." Rose looked over at the eight ball. "So give it to me, fortune-teller--what's in my future?"
"Rose," Benji sighed, "you don’t have a future." With a flick of his wrist he tossed the open lighter to Rose, igniting the oil and sending plumes of flame upwards. He stepped back from the heat as Rose shrieked.
Before the flames could consume her, Rose's cries turned to screeching laughter. "Mission aborted, men!" Rose giggled. "Oh, you're really fucked now, Benji-boy!" She raised a cigarette to her mouth but burst into a swirling column of ashes before it touched her lips. The smoky cloud that was once Rose fluttered into the sky and left blazing robes on the roof below.
Benji squinted from the brightness of the blaze, then turned to survey the area. The rooftops were bare, Rose's vampire troops gone. He raced to the edge of the roof and looked out across the city. A battle was now raging in the distance. The noise of it rose to fill the air, and another noise came from behind him.
"That was very stupid," the dark master hissed. "Perhaps I could call back her legions, you know, and send them in." Benji raised his eyes to the boss hopefully. "But I won't try to."
"Why? You need Tash alive, for whatever it is you're up to!" Benji grabbed the figure by the arms. "Get them to come back!"
The dark one shook its head and forced its arm forward, plunging its fist into Benji's side with great force. Benji screamed and staggered back as blood soaked his black shirt. "No--Rose built her leadership of those creatures on years of trust. They won't listen to me now, and it may be too late as it is." The dark figure stepped over Benji, leaned down and lifted him by his arm. "I needed Rose for that, young man. That was her purpose. You've set me back quite a bit, vampire." The dark one dragged Benji to the edge of building.
"Who…are you?" Benji groaned.
"The most patient person you've ever met." With that, the figure cast Benji from the roof and sent him hurtling to the alley below. "Merciful, too."
Benji landed with a sick thud on the concrete.
"You're going to pay for what you've done," the master's voice roared into the alleyway. "You've damned your people--and yourself--by crossing me."
Benji wondered why the big bad boss didn't just leap down and kill him right there, but the figure did claim to be patient. He realized this as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Sunday, October 7 2007
2:50 AM - Youth Hostile
As Benji finished his story, he turned to Julia to gauge her reaction. "Well…?"
"We could have won!" Julia snapped. "You made us lose!"
"Don't you see, Julia? We were just being used! Who knows what Rose's boss was planning!" Julia charged up the stairs, and Benji called after her. "Come down here!"
When Julia returned to the first floor, she had Bird under one arm and Wally under the other. The cat's mewed as Julia turned to the door.
"Are you leaving, Julia?" Benji mumbled.
The female vamp turned back. "I can't be here. We were going to win, Benji! We would have ruled Los Angeles, do you know that?"
Benji smirked and walked to the door. "I didn't want us taking up a cause we didn't want…"
"No!" Julia yelled. "You did it because you don't want a cause--said so yourself." She opened the door and stepped onto the little porch-stairs. "Maybe I wanted a purpose in life." She shook her head as Bird pawed at her shirt. "You know, Walt doubted you, told me not to trust you. Sooner or later, he said, you'd steer us wrong. If I wasn't so damn in love with you I would have listened to him!" Benji leaned on the doorframe quietly and stared at the sidewalk. He turned and went inside as Julia stormed off. His eyes fell on the table in the living room.
Where were his keys?
The sudden roar of the van's engine answered him--the key's were in the van, of course. The van was pulling down the street with Julia at the wheel, and Benji figured he'd never see that vehicle again. It was ironic that it was being stolen since that was how he came by it. Benji heard the van roll into the distance, then slammed the door to Youth Hostile shut behind him.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 4th, 2007
1318 Poplar’s Ave
Alessa parked her car in Poplar’s building parking lot, and stepped out of her car with a light step. She had finally gotten to speak to Darian, and things seemed to be at last heading somewhere. He was waiting for her, but had sounded interested in the phone. She still needed to talk to a couple more people; Nik had said Galen had shown interest in getting into the Hats again. And maybe Kate’s father, Jack, too. Maybe she could convince them to come to the meeting next week. Alessa grimaced; talking to Galen wasn’t something she was looking forward to. The man was too anguished and she didn’t want to disturb him, but if Nikolai thought he’d be better among the group again… God knew they needed people.
She was about to lock her car when something got her attention, and a big smile spread in her face. A big, sleek, pink motorcycle was standing near the building’s wall, in the tenant’s area. She recognized the bike. It was Alice’s. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone this afternoon.
She was getting to the door when it opened and a familiar Latino figure walked out of it. Alessa’s grin grew even bigger. *Speaking of the demon…*
“Alice! ¿Cómo has estado?,” she said, walking towards the demoness. “¿Alice! It’s great to see you?”
Alice turned half only aware. She didn't expect to run it to anyone on her front porch. "Estoy bien, hun. ¿Cómo has estado tu?""I’m good hun. How have you been"
“Muy bien.""Very good.",” answered Alessa, happy. She changed direction when it became evident that Alice wasn’t stopping. “Where have you been these last months?”
Alice moved to her bike." Tokyo this time. I had some accounts to close out." Alice sat on her bike, getting it ready to go. "So what brings you out this way?"
“Well, We were planning the next White Hat meeting.” She bit her lip, doubting a second before going on. “You’ll be coming, right?”
Alice’s expression changed suddenly. “The white hats are dead. Well the ones that had put their hearts into it anyway. All you have left are a bunch of Shaggies running around, who are going to get themselves killed. Or if your lucky turned into something and then killed by your friends. Something has changed in L.A. I don’t know what it is but its bad. I can feel it.”
Alessa blinked, stunned. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. The demoness manner and words had changed so quickly that she had to think for a second before answering.
“I'm sorry, Alice... but I don’t agree with you. We all put our hearts into this, the White Hats weren’t’t just Tash or Kate...” her voice faltered for a second but she recovered quickly. “And we aren’t’ harmless either...”
Alice’s eyes closed as she listened to Alessa. *Maybe I should just snap her neck. It will be fast and better then most deaths she could get here.* Alice suddenly opened her eyes as she realized her hands were moving off her handlebars.
“Look Daphne. I don’t want to pop you bubblegum, but if you want to play Mystery Inc. You go right ahead. If I was you I would find someone to hold your hand so you can cross the street and get the hell out of this city before Old man Wickles rip your face off.” Alice's motorcycle started with a roar and with a aggravated look she drove off into the night.
“¿Qué bicho le picó?” ”what’s happened to her?” she asked herself, almost coughing with the fumes of the powerful motorcycle. “Loca!”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, October 9 2007
12:00 AM - Bob's Bar
"What'll ya have, Benji?" Bob asked gruffly.
"Regular blood, I guess," Benji requested. "Oh--and some information would be nice."
Bob rolled his eyes and scratched his thinning black hair. "Information. Of course. You know, people never come in here with, 'How's your day, Bob?' or 'How are ya feelin', Bob?'…it's always *POW!* 'Gimme some information, weasel!'…No polite conversation. Now why the Hell is that?"
Benji shrugged. "Maybe because you're scum."
Bob nodded yieldingly. "Yeah, I am kindova lowlife, ain't it I?" He laughed. "Well, what'll it be?"
"Have you seen Julia in here lately?"
Bob answered Benji as he readied glasses behind the bar. "Oh, you're little puppy dog friend. Nah. Can't say I have. Why? When was the last you saw her?"
Benji lowered his eyes to the bar counter. "About three days ago. We had a fight, and she took off…with my van."
"Ouch, Benjamin!" Bob snickered. "You've been a victim of a vengeful girlfriend!"
"Not my girlfriend," Benji was quick to correct. He took the glass that Bob slid his way.
"Well, whatever. I don't recall her stopping by. However…." Bob's voice trailed off as he turned towards the back-room entrance. Benji looked down at his glass, then perked up when he heard Bob shout. "Hey, kid!"
But then Benji realized that Bob wasn't speaking to him. Soon, Bob's newest young helper emerged. "Uh, yeah boss?" DK asked.
"You've got a…whatchacallit…'idyllic' memory?"
"Eidetic memory, Mr. Wedge," Denny amended. Benji scoffed.
"Yeah, well, Benji here is in need of your services." Bob left to the other end of the bar and dealt with other customers while DK stood opposite Benji, trying to think of something to say. Benji finally understood why Bob really hired Denny King--in a fact-finding situation, why would anyone bother that grumpy old man when there's a guy with photographic memory in the bar?
"Have you seen a red-head come by here?"
DK turned towards Bob. "Does he mean Alaia Nahia?" Bob shrugged off DK without an answer and poured a few glasses of blood for the vampire couple down the way.
Benji dropped his hand to the counter. "Ahawa Nawhata? No, Dennis, I mean my red-head. Julia."
"Oh! You mean…well, no, I can't say I've seen her here." DK looked down at Bob to make sure he was occupied, then took a napkin from a pile. With a small pencil he began to scribble a note, glancing up at Benji occasionally. "Here," he said finally, handing the napkin over. "There's another bar 'round LA where supernatural nasties like yourself congregate, but don't tell Bob I told you!" He suppressed his nervousness with a cool gaze, trying to avoid looking at Bob again.
Benji glanced down at the scribbled napkin. "Porfirio Diaz?"
DK nodded. "Worked there briefly last year. Still an…interesting place, and maybe Julia's been there." He tossed his rag over his shoulder and placed his palms on the edge of the counter.
Benji scratched is jaw. "Ya don't say. And who was that other red-head you thought I meant?"
"O-oh, you mean--? Just a customer," DK stammered. "She came to town looking for a few good men. Her words, not mine."
"Then why did she come in here?" Benji smirked. "There's no one good in here, male or otherwise."
DK cracked his knuckle. "Can't say I disagree with you there."
Benji's grin grew increasingly wider as he tucked the napkin into his jacket. "Y'know, the first time I met you I had the overwhelming urge to kill you."
"And, uh, now?" DK asked with a slight gulp.
He raised his hand to DK's face and patted him on the cheek with mixed appreciation and menace. "Not so much." He slid off his stool and stood. "Hell, I didn't even punch you for that 'supernatural nasties' crack--which was pretty ballsy, by the way." DK shrugged. "Don't do it again," Benji added as he left the bar counter.
Return to Maxim's
Tuesday, 2nd October 2007
Maxim’s Restaurant and Bar, Los Angeles
8:45pm
Galen sniffed slightly as he downed his fifth shot of Smirnoff, drumming the empty glass on the mahogany bar in a bid to get the barman’s attention. He was already quite drunk, verging on that familiar nauseous, dizzy feeling, but he didn’t care. For just one night he wanted to get away from everything, from that house where every room was filled with Kate, where the bedsheets still smelled of her perfume and her scarlet tresses lay tangled in the prongs of her hairbrush.
But more than that Galen wanted to forget, forget about his complete failure to find his wife.
“Oi!” he shouted, waving his arm in the air at the barman again. “Oi mate, what does it take to get a drink around here?”
As he attempted to work his way through Maxim’s, Nikolai was glad that for once he had reached his destination without being attacked. He removed his from the inside of his jacket with a sense of great relief that this time, he wouldn’t have to defend himself against the absurd number of demons that had arisen in Los Angeles over the past week.
Turning in the direction of the bar, Nikolai heard a familiar voice calling for the bartender. His eyes scanned up and down before resting upon a man with shaggy uneven hair and a roughly shaven jaw, dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. Had it not been for the man’s call to the bartender, Nikolai would not have recognised him
“Hello, Galen,” he said, slipping onto the stool next to him. “I have a feeling the bartender is about to cut you off.”
Galen turned his head slightly and sighed, dropping his empty glass on the bar. It rolled around in a disjointed half circle, spraying the last drops of vodka across the counter top.
“Nikolai,” he sighed wearily, running his hand across his roughly shaven chin. “Either you’ve turned psychic while I’ve been away or you’ve been talking to Jack. Has that father-in-law of mine asked you to keep an eye on me?”
“The latter,” Nikolai replied, wondering just how drunk Galen was. He looked terrible but Nik guessed that it wasn’t all down to the alcohol but rather due to spending the last two months looking for his wife – and not succeeding. Nikolai knew how much Galen loved Kate and he could feel how much her loss was hurting him.
“I heard you were home and called by the house, Jack told me you’d gone out. I just thought that, considering the circumstances… you could use some company.” He placed a hand on Galen’s shoulder, patting him gently. “I’m so sorry, friend. I know it’s hard to lose someone you love. But you can’t do this to yourself; drinking… it won’t change anything.”
“Can’t do what?” said Galen with a tired sigh, nodding at the barman as he refilled his glass and disappeared again. “I’m having a drink, Nikolai, I’m relaxing. You’re the one who looks like he’s shitting bricks.”
“Yeah well, the other night I got jumped by a couple of demons,” Nikolai noted, “Los Angeles is a lot more dangerous these days, without Tash… and Kate.” Nik sighed wearily, “and Daye has all but abandoned the White Hats, we’re struggling to keep the numbers even.” Raising his hand he motioned to the bartender, ordering a Pousse Café.
“What are you doing?” Galen asked suspiciously.
“Joining you in relaxing,” Nikolai replied. “Like I said, I thought you could use the company.”
Galen laughed flippantly, shaking his head. “Do what you like, what does it matter so long as you don’t get between me and my Smirnoff.” He sipped on his vodka and then tipped the glass back, pouring a river of fiery liquor down his throat. Galen coughed, holding his balled up fist against his mouth. He watched as the bartender served up Nikolai’s drink, a bizarre multi-layered affair that looked more like a rainbow in a glass than a drink.
“Kate and I came here once,” he suddenly announced wistfully, “our first official date, date.” Galen chuckled morosely, sighing as he slumped against the bar, tapping the bottom of his glass against the counter again. “God she looked so beautiful that night, her hair and… and she wore this dark green silk dress that just…” he clutched a hand over his heart dramatically, “…wow, you know?”
“Kate was a very, stunningly beautiful woman,” agreed Nikolai solemnly, wincing inwardly at his use of the past tense – which thankfully Galen didn’t seem to notice, too lost in thoughts of his wife.
“I remember thinking…” continued Galen absently, “how lucky I was that I’d been given a second chance, that she’d come back into my life after everything… and just what a fantastic ass she had, so pert and perky and-“
Nikolai sighed, “-yes, yes,” he said wearily, sipping his drink. “Kate… Kate had a very… nice ass too. Look Galen, this is difficult for you, I know, but it’s been months and from what Jack told me you still don’t have any evidence that Kate is alive. I know you love her but how can you be so certain that she’s still out there?”
Galen looked at Nikolai, forcing his vision to steady. “We talked for hours that night,” he said after a moment, his voice clearly pained. “We talked and danced, oh God we danced. I held her in my arms for the first time ever and I knew that I was falling in love with her. You know what it’s like when you’re with a woman and you just know? And when you look into her eyes you know that she wants you and that if you kiss her it’s just going to be the most wonderful thing in the world?”
Galen ran a hand through his hair wearily, his head spinning slightly in a drunken haze. “She is out there, Nik, how… how can’t she be? I’ve already lost one woman that I loved in my life, and I never really knew what love was until Kate… If she was de- if she was gone I’d know, wouldn’t I? My, my heart would stop beating or something, I’d know.”
Nikolai nodded, Galen’s pain was so raw it stung him like nettles. He was so convinced that Kate was alive, so insistent, and Nikolai wanted to believe him, he really did. Kate had been his closest friend; she’d been the one to help him through his merging and to counsel him when his relationship with Alicia fell apart. She’d always been there for him with a kind word and a smile; always willing to take him in when he needed a place to stay, she’d let him be a part of her family – something Nikolai had never had before. He didn’t want to lose all that.
But as much as he wanted to believe that Galen and Kate shared some kind of psychic bond – a bond that would allow Galen to sense his wife and know whether she was alive or not, he just wasn’t sure that he could. It wasn’t that Nikolai didn’t believe such things were possible, he’d seen enough of the supernatural not to be so close-minded. It was just Galen… the way he behaved, the things he said… he showed all the classic signs of a man in denial of the obvious truth.
“Perhaps,” Nikolai conceded, before the idea fully occurred to him, “have you considered visiting a necromancer? If Kate were - if she had passed, one would be able to connect with her, wouldn’t they?”
Galen’s forehead wrinkled in disbelief. “Of course! In fact I have my cell phone with me, why don’t I just call up Marcus Dalton now and we can hold a séance! For god’s sake Nik! Haven’t you heard a damned word I’ve said?”
Slamming his empty glass on the bar, Galen rose from his stool, swaying uneasily. “I have spent fucking months! Months, looking, searching this godforsaken rock and consulting bloody shaman’s for crying out loud! My wife is missing not dead I’d only need an asshole necromancer if she were dead!”
Nikolai swiftly grabbed hold of Galen before he fell, hauling him back down onto his stool. “Fine… fine,” he said with a combination of firmness and kindness, his hand on Galen’s shoulder holding him in place. Nikolai had only suggested the idea because he’d hoped for some sort of confirmation, as much for himself as for Galen. But he could see now how such a proposition would lie uncomfortably with the other man – it would be like admitting even the slightest possibility that Kate was dead, and Galen wasn’t about to do that just yet.
“It was a stupid idea,” Nikolai conceded with a sigh, “but I’m just as much at a loss for what to do next as you are. Of course I want Kate to be safe and well and I want her back home with you. But… maybe you have to believe that you weren’t meant to find her yet. That maybe, wherever she is, she’s doing something that she’s supposed to be doing.”
“Don’t start talking to me about destiny,” Galen sneered bitterly, allowing Nikolai to sit him back down on his stool. “She’s supposed to be with me,” he said quietly, “she’s my wife and she… she’s supposed to be home with me.”
Galen sighed heavily, his body sagging visibly. “What if… what if she’s in danger? Have you thought about that? Jack said that this group of guys from The Ministry of Magic in England had been hanging around LA last year, that they seemed to take an interest in Kate. What if it was them? Or… or maybe the Coven, when we went back there this guy, Byron, he was totally obsessed with her, wouldn’t leave us alone! And then there’s still Majestic, you don’t know them, they’re, well if they wanted her for any reason they’d take her, psychic’s are always in high demand…”
"Galen, please," Nikolai urged. The Russian slipped an arm over his shoulder, Galen grudgingly allowing himself to be led away from the bar. "Even if it is one of these people to blame, what good are you going to do Kate by getting drunk as a skunk? Let's assume that she is alive, that it is one of them, they probably have people blocking the ability of Shaman's to detect her. I do believe now, that nothing happens without a reason, and that if it is meant to be she will return to you. You know as well as I do that Kate would not stop until she managed to do that."
Galen felt his anger rise but he held it in, why did nobody understand him? Why did they all act as though he were crazy? This talk of destiny and things happening for a reason was complete and utter bullshit!
More than anything else right now he wanted to order another drink and get totally wasted, but he thought better of it when he realised it was only Nikolai’s grip that was keeping him upright. And besides, Nikolai was right when he said that the alcohol wouldn’t help, that the pain would still there when he sobered up and sometimes the drink didn’t even make a dent in it anyway.
“Can I tell you something?” Galen asked sombrely, not really waiting for a reply but taking Nikolai’s silence as an assent. “I see her all the time. I mean… It’s not like just remembering - she’s with me and she talks to me like she’s still here.” Galen shook his head sadly. “I don’t know if… if it means anything or if I’m just plain going mad.”
“I don’t think you’re going mad,” said Nikolai directly, though he did have some doubts. But he conviction and certainty with which Galen believed that Kate was still alive was as strong as the conviction that she was appearing with him and continuing to talk to him. It was an interesting question: if he were really insane, would it matter? Psychology based foundation on the assumption that the ill mind cannot recognise its defects. On the other hand, there was more at work in the world than most people assumed – the mystic and the magic, and their effects could not be ignored either.
“I do think that you’re exhausted, both emotionally and physically. You’ve been searching non-stop for months, Jack showed me some of the postcards and letters you sent home. India? Australia? Galen, you’ve been half-way around the world and back, and I know how much you want Kate back.”
*Maybe you’re so desperate to have her home you’ve just gone and invented this illusion to comfort yourself,* was Nikolai’s unspoken thought and he was very glad that Galen wasn’t the psychic that his wife was to be able to hear it.
“I do have an idea though,” continued Nikolai carefully. “Do you remember when I first returned to LA? The Artificer who accompanied me?”
Galen frowned, “the strange hooded guy who fell out of our wardrobe, right?”
Nikolai nodded. “His name is Vard-Lokkar, and while he's tried to teach me some magic... well... it hasn't really worked.” Their first attempt had, in fact, been a disaster which sent Tolstoy into hiding under the couch for most of the day.
Nikolai kept his voice low so as not to be overheard in the crowded room. “Vard needs to know at least a little about everything to do enchantments correctly. It's possible that he might know if there's any possible mystical explanation for what you’re experiencing, and if so, how to verify it.”
Galen didn’t know what to say, he got the impression from Nikolai the he rather believed that Kate was dead and that maybe this whole ploy of helping was just to play along with him. But if there was any way of finding out for sure what was going on and… and maybe finding out where Kate was… well he was going to take it. Although after months of disappointment, he wasn’t about to get his hopes up.
“Sure, whatever he can do,” said Galen eventually, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He found one but it was crumpled at the tip, tearing the end free, he lit it and puffed heavily on the filter to get a blaze.
Nikolai started to gently lead Galen out of the bar, hoping that Vard would be able to do something for them. Part of him hoped that he was wrong, that Kate was still out there, but this could help bring Galen some measure of peace.
“The rest of the White Hats will be glad to know you're back as well,” he mentioned, suddenly remembering the group and their problems. “Like I mentioned before, our numbers have dwindled. With Tash a pile of dust and Kate… missing. we're having problems. Add to that the demons and vampires seem to have doubled in population... we need help, Galen.”
Galen thought that was funny, and he almost choked on his cigarette as he laughed. “Is that a request for my help?” he asked, chuckling. “Well sure, yeah, if you’re sorely short of someone to get knocked out on a regular basis…”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
The pair pulled up in Nikolai's Monte Carlo to an abandoned building. Vard had somehow purchased it and continued to keep up the decrepit appearance of the place, though where he got the money, Nikolai never asked.
Reaching the door, he knocked three times, careful to avoid a small marking on the wood. “One of his wards,” Nikolai explained as the door opened. When they entered, Vard was already waiting for them. The room was dark, lit only by several candles. Vard's skin looked even paler in the low light; anyone who saw him might well have called him the walking dead.
“Hello, Nikolai and... Galen, was it?” he turned to face Kate's husband. “How has the search for your wife gone?”
The room was so poorly lit that Galen had to take several more steps towards the hunched up figure in order to see him properly. His pale, withered features appeared even more ghastly in the candlelight and Galen was momentarily rendered speechless.
“She… um, no,” he mumbled uneasily, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. Over the past couple of months he’d met with his fair share of shaman’s and witchdoctors, but this Vard… he was something else entirely.
“I don’t know what Nik has told you,” Galen added when he’d managed to better compose his thoughts. “But I haven’t managed to find her… yet.”
“You must be desperate, for Nikolai to bring you to me.” Vard smiled at the momentary discomfort of Galen. It was true that Nikolai had mentioned Kate’s disappearance to him, and Vard had offered some form of aid – aid which Nikolai turned down initially, as if he believed Kate to have actually perished.
Nikolai broke in, trying to put Galen at ease; he could feel that the other was still desperate and disturbed, but also more put off by Vard’s unnatural appearance. “Galen has been seeing Kate appear to him.”
“Really?” That provided some chance of her being alive, and had he been Valdis, he could have just tried to peer across the Great Divide. As it was, things were more complicated. “That could be a number of things. Some of them can be tested for, but my speciality is the construction of magical devices, so I’ll would need a personal effect, and more information on how she appears to you.”
“I was in Australia,” said Galen after a moment’s silence, “after travelling though England and Germany I met a coven of witches affiliated with Sindell. They told me about a tribe of aborigines, the Pitjantjatjara and of a certain ceremony that they could enact, one that allows you to see people over far distances. They called it Tjukurpa – The Dreaming.”
Seeing a flicker of recognition in Vard’s eyes, Galen continued.
Saturday, 8th September 2007
Ayers Rock – Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, AUSTRALIA
11:45pm – Local Time
Curls of grey smoke rose upwards, unfurling in the dark indigo sky like a dozen gossamer party streamers. Night had fallen many hours ago, as dense and complete as a cloak across the desert. Only the light from the fire sliced sharply through the darkness, a raging fury of orange and yellow that sent tall shadows climbing up the feldspar sandstone of Australia’s infamous Ayers Rock.
Dry wood crackled and snapped audibly as it burned in the open air, resonating with the beat of ceremonial drums, the hollow rattle of clapsticks and the bass hum of the didgeridoo. A line of half-naked men adorned in emu feathers and animal skins circled the fire, singing and stamping their feet against the dusty ground while clapping their hands in time to the impromptu melody.
Galen watched all this with a mixture of apprehension and hopeful expectancy, sat in the middle of the chorus of tribesmen, opposite Wiremu - the aborigine shaman of the Pitjantjatjara tribe. Three weeks travelling through Malaysia and eight days sat in the back of a local Anangu’s pick-up had brought him here to the holy ground of the Pitjantjatjara in preparation for Tjukurpa - The Dreaming.
Closing his eyes, Wiremu began to mumble a low resonant sound deep in his throat, shaking his rattle – a collection of oily looking feathers and bones, back and forth. The dancing about the fire grew more fervid and the once melodic singing changed tempo so that it sounded more like chanting than music.
“What’s happening?” whispered Galen to the small Anangu boy at his side.
Paora pointed towards the rising moon in the sky, “The time is close now, see…” he motioned towards the shaman and the movement of his hands. “In Anangu, all life can be traced back to the great spirit ancestors of the Dreamtime. Everything: plants, animals, man – is a result of the actions of those great spirits who created the world. It is in the dreaming that lies the sacredness of the earth.”
Galen frowned, falling silent for a moment as a young aborigine female painted a thick white substance across his naked chest and arms in various swirling organic patterns. When she had gone, he turned back to Paora. “And this will help me find my wife?”
“Your wife is a part of the dreaming like everything else, if she is still in this world, he will find her.” Paora pointed to Wiremu again and the photograph of Kate that he held in his hands. “Shaman gains his power by traversing the axis mundi, it is where he gathers his knowledge of the land and spirits. He asks Baiame – deity of life and death and the great Wati-kutjara who first taught the shamans how to use the Dreamtime – he asks them to locate your wife and bring her spirit to the Kami, what you may call the astral plane.”
“I’ll be able to see her…” said Galen quietly, almost wistfully. He’d been searching for so long without success he’d almost begun to lose hope of ever seeing Kate again. Even if it was just for a second, if he could see her and know that she was okay…
Paora nudged Galen as the shaman held out a long rolled up cigarette. It was already smoking, a pale bluish smoke that smelled unlike any tobacco Galen had ever come across.
“Tabemanth Iboga,” said Paora, handing Galen the lit cigarillo, “it is what we call an entheogen, it’ll help prepare you for your journey.”
Galen hesitated only for a moment before inhaling on the roll-up, taking the smoke deep into his lungs and holding it there just as the shaman had done. It wouldn’t have been an over-exaggeration to say that he didn’t care any more, the only thing that gave his life any meaning was the promise of finding Kate, of being able to look into her dark blue eyes again and hold her in his arms.
The shaman smiled a toothy grin, nodding his head happily as the tribesmen resumed their dancing around the fire. He jabbered nonsensically in his native language, swaying back and forth and waving his rattle again.
Galen felt his eyelids dip momentarily and his head rolled back slightly. The beat of the drums pounded in his ears like the blood in his veins, so heavy and thick he could barely move. Even though his eyes were shut he could still see the rhythmic dancing of the tribesmen circling the lapping flames of the fire. Then everything swirled together, round and round again and when Galen opened his eyes again he was alone.
The sky was so blue it was almost violet and the sand… it stretched onward as far as the eye could see, rolling dunes of amber. Paora had told him about this place, Kami – the astral plane – a mystical half-way station between the land of flesh and spirit.
Galen looked around, his body moving as though he were wading through molasses. If Wiremu had done all he said then Kate, her astral self, should be here also. Straining his eyes against the horizon he was sure that he could see a small dark shape making its way across the dunes.
“Kate!” he shouted, as she came into view, her long, red hair and white dress fluttering in the breeze as she walked. “KATE!” he cried again, running through the dunes, kicking up sand as he ran. The figure on the horizon turned, a confused and bewildered frown set into her features but it was Kate, there was no doubt about that.
Coughing and spluttering Galen awoke from his trance.
The sky above Uluru had already begun to lighten to a shade of powder blue and the fire had all but died out. The shaman gabbled madly, taking Galen’s hand and pressing it hard.
“No… no, no, no,” he said in panicked protest, seizing hold of the withered aborigine. “You have to send me back! She was there! My wife! I saw her! You HAVE to send me back!!!”
Paora took hold of Galen under the arms and helped him sit up. “Wiremu say no,” he explained as the shaman muttered something and shuffled away. “You can try again tomorrow night, but you will not see her again now. Must wait for tomorrow.”
Paora smiled comfortingly and slapped his hand against Galen’s back. “Don’t look so glum, it is good sign that you see her, it mean she is waiting for you, wanting to make contact.”
****END FLASHBACK****
The pair listened to the story in wonder. Nikolai knew well that Galen would go to any length necessary to try to find his wife, and a glance at Vard told him that the other had a certainty that she may well be alive. For the first time, Nikolai felt a glimmer of hope that he had not lost a friend, and that Kate could be recovered.
“Dreamtime,” Vard mused in response to the story, falling back in thought. Going over the experiences in his mind, the general things that he knew, he could see the similarities in how cultures approached things. The problem was simply that the supernatural was, in some sense, beyond their comprehension.
Then a small smile came across his face, grimly comforting. “I have good news for you, Galen: if you encountered her in Dreamtime, there’s a good chance that she is alive.” He could see Galen visibly brighten at the confirmation; Vard did not have the heart to point out that there were always some of sufficient will or power who managed to persist as astral spirits after death.
“Has she appeared to you outside of the Dreamtime?”
Galen nodded, “ever since that night… I don’t know,” he shook his head tiredly, “I keep seeing her all the time. But it’s strange, it’s like it’s still a dream or something, but it feels so real. She feels real.”
Vard considered the brief description. Kate appearing to him could have been a number of things; the fact that she had feeling made psychic imprints less likely. A dreamlike quality would have actually made that, or an illusion, more likely though. There was also the possibility of hallucination which couldn’t be ruled out.
But then again, Galen had made contact in Dreamtime hadn’t he? “It could be a leftover imprint from your connection in the dreamtime, genuine astral projection, or a manifesting of latent psychic potential.” Another thought occurred to him. If Galen were beginning to manifest some form of psychic ability, he could easily be projecting his own desires into the world, but only making them visible to himself, and being untrained, would not recognise them for what they were. It was, unfortunately, the hardest thing for him to test for.
“I could create a device, potentially, that would record a ‘shadow’ of an astral body,” Vard said after a long silence. “To tie it to Kate, specifically, would require a personal item of hers – the stronger its tie to her in specific, the more effective the device would be. Once it gets enough ‘astral resonance’, we can fashion something that might help point you towards her.”
Galen paused for a second before reaching around his neck and removing a silver chain from under his shirt. On the end were threaded two circlets of shining metal, one a simple band and the other bearing a large emerald-cut diamond. Galen removed them from the chain and held them tightly in his hand before turning his attention back to Vard and Nikolai.
“My wife’s wedding rings,” he said quietly, “I was hoping to put them back on her finger.”
Nikolai watched the exchange with the utmost fascination. Galen was obviously loathe to part with them. For a moment, he wondered what would happen if Vard failed, and Kate really were deceased. Probably make him lose the last of his sanity, he thought. But it was Vard who spoke next again.
“It’ll take a few days for me to gather the appropriate supplies, and double-check my information. Also to forge an amulet. If you can return to me in a week, perhaps?”
Galen nodded and reluctantly handed over the rings to Vard. He could still feel the surge of alcohol in his system and knew that he’d have to lay down soon or risk the worst hangover of his life in the morning. “A week,” he said in agreement. “I hope you can help me.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Tuesday, 2nd October 2007
11:13pm
The streetlights were all dimmed now in L.A. It was just another one of those strange power fluctuations that happened on a nightly basis in the city. Those dim lights were the porch lights of the homeless, not to mention a refuge and blessing to the despicable creatures of the night that plagued the city. Hidden in every dark alley was a plethora of criminals, ranging from the lowly pickpocket to the menacing demonic killer.
However, tonight was a rather tame night for the usually active demons of Los Angeles. Vince had barely fed at all night. He caught a couple of vamps trying to munch on a homeless woman but they only barely covered the amount of energy it took him to transform into his True form. Just 15 minutes ago he had caught a rapist attacking a young woman. He didn’t need to transform to eat him he simply put up a 30-second struggle.
It had taken Vince a while to understand what Bez’Ara’kuz had meant when he said the demons of the world are cattle to feed from. Vincent had understood that not all monsters come with green skin and pointy faces. Some of the worse monsters that there are hide behind the face of innocence
As Vincent walked slowly down the darkened alleyways he began to notice how much of his life he had spent sleeping in the gutters, being scared of the monsters that tried to get him and how it suddenly went away when James came onto the scene - a monster so scary that all the other monsters ran away from him. Now that is what Vince had become; a monster so great even the other monsters ran in fear of what he might do
Vince looked up for the first time in what seemed like hours. He realised he was miles away from were he had started the night off. Now he was in the middle of some park with bad lighting. An image flashed in his head of a teenage kid fighting for his life against a group of vampires and demons
Vincent slowly transformed into the giant creature that he once hated. He walked quickly along the tree line of the park and got there just in time to see the first punch thrown in the fight. One kid and a mix of twenty demons and vamps and what appeared to be humans. As soon as Vince saw the humans he knew that they were harbingers
The demon that Kyle socked went down in a crumpled heap. “Damnit.” He cursed, wringing his sore fist. “That hurt.” The other nineteen members of the unholy army looked at their fallen comrade blankly, and then back at him. Kyle cursed again, this time in his head, at the sore situation fate had landed him in. Every time he tried to do something innocent - like taking a nice walk at night, having a smoke, looking for a good fight – something like this happened. He’d get outnumbered. Or run into the latest big bad. Or get kidnapped. It was really starting to irk him.
Slowly, Kyle looked around at the circle of badness facing him, carefully choosing his words. At the forefront of his mind was a little quip he was particularly proud of, but also knew would get his butt kicked. And his neck broken. No, much as he hated to think it, the only way out of this one was smooth talking.
I’m in trouble. He realised. Words just weren’t his way.
“Okay, guys, tried to warn ya. If do something like that,” He pointed at the demon, “I will punch you in the face. But I don’t want this to all get unpleasant. I’ve obviously got something you want, so just ask, k?” Nineteen threatening faces continued to stare blankly at him. “Aw, hell I’m screwed.” Kyle muttered, looking up at the sky.
As the punches and kicks rained down upon the kid Vincent couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Most people when faced with a gang of twenty would either run or shit themselves. This kid acutely attacked first to show he’s not scared. “Aw, well,” said Vincent out loud, “I might as well lend a hand.”
Getting closer, Vincent saw the downed demon get to his feet and notice the incoming giant. The look of fear and surprise passed over the demon’s face as he recognised who the giant was. The demon let out a warning to his buddies giving the pummelling but it was too late before they could turn around. Vincent had let lose a massive telekinetic blast knocking every one of the demon’s buddies into the air
The demon watched his friends soar through the air. It almost seemed to last forever for them to reach the ground. Several of them rattled their ribs into tree’s and fixed benches. It took the vampires and demons seconds to recover from the attack but the eight humans of the group lay either knocked out or dead.
They turned their attention from the kid, now on his feet and looking rather pissed off. Vince took a double take at the kid to notice that he had turned into a demon with a fiery tail. A large smile crossed the face of Vince at this point that would have even made the chesire cat jealous. “Go, charmander, go!”
Kyle looked up at the big, demony-giant…thing but didn’t dare say a word. He didn’t even question the fact it was a) talking about Pokemon, b) calling him a Pokemon or c) killing the bad guys. It was just…big. “Ummm…” Was all he could mouth before he was brutally ripped back into the real world by a demon fist punching him in the face.
The Koashian fell to the floor, his tail whipping round to slap his attacker. He hit painfully, the bruises and wounds he had already suffered twisted his face with torment, but was spared any further attacks by the big thing. Whether he should be thankful for that or worried, Kyle wasn’t sure.
He leapt to his feet, upper-cutting the sole demon that realised he was easier prey than the 7-foot tall psychic monster, and followed with a roundhouse kick. The demon staggered backwards, stumbling on the body of one of his fallen comrades and fell on his ass. Kyle was on him in a flash, his flaming hands wrapped around his neck and squeezing.
Vince ran into a group of twelve who quickly backed off form the huge reaper. Vince crossed his arms and looked around the park. Kyle was fighting with some demons but most of them had their attention on him. “Well it seems you know who and what I am, so are you going to run away and report to your bishop you saw me and ran, which will get your fangs ripped, out or are we going to fight to the death and each of you can watch me eat your friends alive from the inside out?” As Vince spoke he burrowed himself into their minds, letting loose their innermost fears
Vincet motioned towards a demon. Its body jerked violently forwards as he was swept off his feet and pulled inches before the massive reaper. Vince gave a crooked smile as he plunged his fingers into the chest of the demon and began to suck the life force from it. Within seconds the demons body had became nothing more than skin draped on bones and seconds after that nothing was left but dust.
“Now I can't well eat you can I?” Vincet said, looking in disgust towards a human who had soiled himself in fear. He made a twisting motion with his hand and in turn the human’s head made the same motion. The shocked group of demons had just watched two of them be killed in moments by this huge reaper. Vincent could feel their primitive urges to run away and hide. That was until he got hit by lightning by a human mage who had just woken up to see his friend have his head twisted.
Vincent dropped to one knee in pain and watched as the ten members of the harbingers rushed in on him. He sprung to his feet and met the first of the harbingers with a right hook which sent him spiralling to the ground. He felt the pain of knives and fists crash into his flesh. He violently swung his head to his left and collided with a vampire’s head, almost crushing it completely. Bullets burnt into his flesh. A rather small demon was firing a .45 calibre into his back at point-black range. Unfortunately for him, one of his human counterparts was standing in front of Vincent and caught the exiting bullets.
Snapping his elbow in a backward arc, Vincent hit an oncoming demon sending it spiralling to the ground. Without missing a beat Vincent launched himself on top of the downed demon and stuck his fingers into its flesh and began to feed. He turned his head in time to see a vampire swinging the business end of a hatchet at his head. Quickly stretching out his free hand, Vincent stuck his fingers into the vampire’s throat and fed on him as well. He could feel the energy coming back to him. The air began to buzz as Vincent fed. He sent a massive telekinetic blast in all directions knocking his remaining attacks off their feet.
The demon beneath him now well and truly dead, Kyle looked round at the carnage. Only the large giant-thing was left standing and he still couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Watching it suck the life out of everything around it, Kyle was willing to place bets on the latter.
Whilst it was busy…’feeding’ – that was the only word Kyle could think of – he decided it was probably best to make his exit. As if twenty bad guys was bad enough, one big bad guy was worse. Then he paused. Since when did he think like that?
Half-turned away to leave, Kyle stopped and rounded on the thing. He shifted into human form and lit a cigarette. Already he started feeling more like himself. “Hey, you, shouldn’t eat so quick. Ya gonna get heartburn.” To emphasise his point, the demon flicked on the flame of his lighter.
The reaper Vincent finished his meal of the last surviving demon and turned to Kyle, smiling. “You really are always a smart ass aren’t ya, Kyle? Here I come saving your sorry ass from these harbingers…”
Kyle bit back a retort and took a long drag on his cigarette. Now he was starting to get worried – as if he wasn’t worried already. “How do you know my name?” He said as evenly as possible.
“Aw, well that’s easy, isn’t it? I can fling twenty people thirty feet into the air with my powers and I can even read your mind…” A worried look passed across Kyle’s face for a second. The reaper Vince began to chuckle. “Naw, I’m only fucking with you. I can’t read minds good.”
Vincent slowly changed shape back into his human form and flashed a smile. “Did you miss me…?”
The Kaoshian blinked. He blinked again. He raised the cigarette to his lips but it was down to the filter, so he tossed it aside. It was one of those rare occasions where Kyle actually had nothing to say. Vincent, the boy – the friend? – Cole had killed was here, in front of him, alive. Well, kind of. He was also a giant, sucky-demon-thing. How was this possible? His mind was a blur of confusion. “Wasn’t expecting that, have to admit…” He muttered. “Vincent? Aren’t you…dead?”
Vincet continued smiling. “Yeah, thanks to your friend Cole. He kinda dropped a house on my head. I made a deal with a demon - well not any demon, Death itself; the person who judges you when you die - he made me his reaper so I can speed up the arrival of the demon population. If they were good little demons he doesn’t eat them. That’s the short version of it but, yeah, I’m dead and none to happy about it.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Kyle said, holding up a hand palm facing Vince. “Lets back up a little bit here.” What Vincent had just told him was mind-boggling, to say the least. Well, actually, considering what went on in LA daily, Kyle shouldn’t really be surprised. But, still, it was just a little shocking. “Huh?”
“You never were that smart. I’ll say it again, for all intents and purposes I’m the Grim Reaper, who instead of waiting for you to die I come to kill you – well, not you personally unless you have done some evil crap that I don’t know about then, I’ll have to be doing that whole glowey-suckey thing to you, so evil creatures beware!”
“…Right.” The Koashian said slowly. He lit another cigarette. “Umm…okay. So you’re Death?” Vincent nodded. “This could take some getting used to.” Taking long drags on the cigarette, Kyle looked away. A hundred questions were running through his mind, but he didn’t know where to start. “What are you doing here?”
“To be honest I’m not to sure myself. I got told by the boss to come to LA ‘cause something big is gonna happen, which I believe ‘cause when I was here, what, we had an army of demons and the oldest vampires in existence?” He paused, nodding to himself. “But yeah, I’m to kill any demons I come across really, well, not just demons. Humans who I consider evil. Ya see, my boss is sick of waiting for the evil men and woman and things to die off ‘cause they take longer than most people. So I’ve basically to go around doing this shit day and night - which reminds me. Don’t suppose you have seen Cole around LA? Iv’e had a little look and I haven’t seen him anywhere. I wanna have a word with him.”
For a moment, Kyle thought about telling Vincent the truth. Why shouldn’t he? For all he knew Vince just wanted to chat with Cole. But at the last minute, just as he opened his mouth, he decided against it. Could he really be certain death personified only wanted to have a few words with the guy that killed him? Would Kyle willingly send what Vince had become after Cole? Kyle shook his head. “Nah, haven’t seen that kid in a while now. He just took off.” Kyle paused, then a flash of inspiration crossed his mind. “Say, you wanna go for a beer?”
Vince’s smile shone. “Sure, I haven’t had a drink since I died.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Thursday, 4th October 2007
02:18 am
The cool night breeze swept over Vincent as he just finished Devouring The last of the vampires, as the vampire puffed into dust he swept himself down getting the excess off himself, he looked down the ally to were the body of the dead woman lay badly beaten, and raped and only been fed from a little, Vincent new the evil the vampires done wasn’t spurned on by the demonic beast inside them but by there innermost evil desires left from whatever humanity they retained, the powers as a reaper had increased greatly he no longer needed to transform into his demonic form to shift realms or even take on a few vampires he began to walk…
Still thinking of the dead woman and why the vampires desired to torture her and not feed from her ate away at his soul, the streets were silent tonight he could here a few sirens off in the distance honking horns, traffic accident maybe? The question was answered with several short Pops, Gang war maybe, maybe some drug slinging kid got unlucky maybe it was a cop either way Vincent’s anger did not subside drugs were eating the city alive corrupting the human populace and giving all forms of evil to spread across it and into its core
For the first time in what seemed like hours Vincent raised his head to find himself standing across the street from a fairly large church. He crossed the street to the heavy wooden door with large metal studs sticking from it, it reminding him of the church in New York and the nuns and the father and the abuse.
The doors of the church exploded open ripping them from the heavy iron hinges sending them flying across the room into the pews causing them to explode into splinters
Vincent walked slowly through the wreckage as he neared the far side of the church to were the half destroyed church doors lay he looked up towards the ceiling and admired its arc shaped thinking how hard it was for the builders to do it, his attention slowly turned the to life sized Jesus on a cross flanked by the Virgin Mary
Tears began to well in his eyes he reached out with his power and lunched the idol of the virgin through the stain glass window of the churched and pulled the image of Jesus to within inches on his face and screamed with all his might “Come on God, answer me!” The only noise in the room was the echo of his voice bouncing around
“For years I've been asking why, why are the innocent dead and the guilty alive?
Silence echoed thought the room with every word
“Where is justice?”
“Where is punishment?
Vincent turned his back of the idol still floating in the air and turned his head to the floor and found himself looking as a broken peace of stain glass window reflecting the tear stained eyed of himself
He turned himself to the idol still floating tears stopped and a face of utter rage
“Or have you already answered, have you already said to the world here is justice, here is punishment, here, in me.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 4th
‘In Vino Veritas’ Club, Los Angeles
8:45 pm
Ellis entered the ‘In Vino Veritas’ Club and walked directly to the bar. A strip club was not on his list of top ten places to go in Los Angeles. Mike had laughed and offered to accompany him when he mentioned where he was going that night. Finally they had settled on him accompanying Alessa hunting while he investigated what happened at the 'Veritas'.
The ‘Veritas’ welcomed both humans and demons alike, and as such it was very popular between the demon and human population. Humans thought it was cool to hang with demons and the demons liked patronizing a club owned by one of them.
However, someone was killing off the strip club’s customers. It wasn’t the kind of thing that he used to look into, but well, only demon customers got killed; not that he found that a bad thing, most of the club’s patrons were dangerous demons anyway. However, it wasn’t those the ones the killer was attacking, and it was there that Ellis was interested.
Memfod, the owner of the club was sure that somebody was trying to get him out of business, probably because he was a demon himself. He knew Ellis and his people had been looking for a demon hunter, so he had called. Ellis had found out that his club was not the only one having its clientele thinned out, so he had agreed. Memfod was of the mind that there was a new demon hunter in town.
“I’ll have a beer,” he said to the bartender, pushing aside the glass of blood he had been given with contempt, and frowning. He wasn’t usually confounded with a vampire, no wonder the club was being assaulted, with such dumb employees.
He had arrived shortly before the night’s “entertainment” began. He scanned the crowd for anyone who stood out or looked like they did not belong. The club was thriving, which wasn’t surprising with the amount of demons and the like that had arrived to the city lately. It was huge, too. Ellis hurried his beer, each of the three floors and two basement levels needed to be checked out, he better start soon. Memfod had promised him freedom to go into every room he wanted to enter. When he got to the basement, he just opened doors, looked and left. No one seemed to pay him any attention, which was good.The basement was where the private shows were given and it wasn’t his intention to pick up a fight tonight. Not with a something like a chaos demon with a girl lap dancing for him, at least.
When Ellis got back to the main floor he had been in the ‘Veritas’ for over two hours to no avail. It was time to start talking to the owner and the employees. *Not the barman, though,* he thought.
He was on his way when he stopped to watch at the current stripper dance. Well, nobody was going anywhere yet, the club was open 24 hours a day. A pretty blonde, by far the best dancer he had seen in the club that night, was gyrating to ‘You can leave your hat on’ in a nurse’s uniform. She wasn’t human too. He betted on a Bracken. He took a five dollar bill from his wallet and walked to the stage, sliding it under her g-string at the hip.
“Thanks, sweet,” she purred seductively at him. She was a Bracken. “Are you going away so soon?” she asked when he turned to leave and he smiled.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” the booming voice sounded over the speakers a few minutes later. “An applause for Alexa! Isn’t she great?” The voice paused for the crowd’s enthusiastic response. Ellis’ chuckled at the sound of the demoness name, and walked away to speak with the owner. There was nothing here, no one jumped out at him as being hunting.
“Wait a minute, I thought you had said that it was your customers who were being attacked, not your girls,” Ellis said some half an hour later, straightening in his chair. He was sitting in the owner’s office, a big room with a wall to wall window in the side, from where he could see the whole main floor of the ‘Veritas’. There was a new girl dancing, this one more demonic, but Ellis wasn’t looking, he was watching the fat demon in front of him. “You’re telling me that this hunter entered your girls’ dressing room unnoticed. Past the bouncer?”
Memfod, a sweaty, overweight Ojubi, just nodded, and sighed sadly. “Look, I take my girl’s security very seriously. No way I could get good dancers if I couldn’t offer them a minimum of safety, not with this clientele. So yes, we’ve got good doors, hardy locks and impressive bouncers. There are a couple of them just to keep watch to the girl’s dressing rooms. Once they get into there, nothing, and I say nothing can pass through them.”
*But this hunter,* Ellis thougth. “And they didn’t see anything?” he asked instead. His mind was reeling with information. This was too familiar to be any coincidence.
“Nothing at all, the girl – a beautiful feathered demoness, by the way, you should have seen- ok, sorry. Well, the girl entered her room and you see, she didn’t get out. When she took too long to get out Jim entered the room and found her...” Memfod made a face, and Ellis could feel that he was really sorrowed by his employee's fate. He somewhat softened to the ugly thing. “She was short of ripped apart. Big bullets, too big for her thin body.”
“Bullets, huh? Did you keep any of them, by any chance?”
“Sorry, no.”
“Ok,” Ellis was disappointed, but he didn’t show. Again, the m.o. was too similar to be coincidence. “Was this an isolated incident?”
“No, two nights ago it happened again. In one of the private rooms in the basement. The bastard took in a good customer and the girl, too, of course. Same way, locked door, no windows, and yet...” Again the sorry face, but Ellis guessed Memfod missed the client more than the girl. “That’s when I decided to call you.”
Ellis nodded in understanding. Closed doors, locked rooms, bullets, surprise factor... It must be the same hunter. That man had been hunting demons for months, an Adori nest here, some water demons there, and now stripper dancers... he was hardly without work. Again, too many demons were getting to LA for him to get out of job. The problem was, he limited himself to peaceful and not dangerous demons, and that just wouldn’t do. He felt frustrated. This just had gone on for too long.
“Can I see the dressing rooms, please?” He asked the demon, standing up.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 4th
1318 Poplar Ave.
4:05 pm
Alessa stared for a few seconds more, the cloud behind Alice dissipating as her pulse settled. She was completely fazed at Alice's reaction, but if she was honest to herself, she didn't really know the demoness. For all she knew, Alicenoko's real link to the White Hats – frail as it was – had been Tash, and now she was gone. She could understand, just not share, her feelings.
Shrugging, she looked at the building again. Her mood had really soured after the encounter, but it hadn't been easy to arrange a date with Darian, she didn't want to miss it. Squaring her shoulders, she started to walk towards the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Alessa was still standing in front of Darian’s apartment door. She was sure she heard shuffling inside the apartment, and she leant a little more over the door to listen better. But the movement – if there had been any – stopped. If there was somebody inside, he or she was keeping quiet. She knocked once more, and muttered under her breath before turning from the door. No luck. So much for Darian’s assurance he’d be home. Well, she’d try again later.
She doubted a second at the stairs, watching up. She could try reaching Reah… but she was tiring of calling her friends and not getting any response. She’d tried to contact Reah, at home and at the Armoury, but the woman wasn’t answering her calls. She didn’t want another Alice-like confrontation, not at the moment. With sigh she looked once more at Darian’s door and then started down the stairs, she’d come back later. No way she was giving up, he would have to show up sooner or later.
The door almost hit Alessa as it opened in her face in her way out of Poplar. “Wow!” she exclaimed, jumping backwards lithely and watching Darian enter the building as if he were followed by a pack of werewolves. “Easy now, amigo, I can fix my nose simply enough, but I’d prefer not to. Must hurt, you know?”
“Oh hey,” Darian replied almost as startled as she was and he almost dropped one of the many paper bags he was juggling. “I’m really sorry I’m late, I was just trying to get some grocery shopping done. We had nothing left in the house and I swear Kyle was going to start chewing on my leg if I didn’t restock the pantry fast.”
“Somehow I doubt you’re joking there,” she laughed.
She took a step forward and caught his grocery bag as it finally dropped from his fingers. “Here, let me help you. And don’t worry about the time, so long as you got here.” She started walking to the stairs again, but turned to look at him. “You’ve been difficult to find, let me tell you.”
“Yeah, I’ve been really busy,” he replied distractedly, as he struggled to get the keys out from his pocket. “What with the new surge of demonic activity in LA, the sudden lack of back up out there, and trying to keep this place clean, I can’t find two minutes to sit down. And not like Kyle and Liala are much help. I swear, I ask for help vacuuming or whatever and they disappear faster than… I don’t know, I can’t think up a good comparison, but let’s just say they leave pretty quick,” he finally sighed, half joking, half not.
“So what did you wanna speak to me about anyways?” He added as they entered his apartment.
Alessa entered the apartment and she took a look around. It didn’t seem Liala was around; maybe she had been imagining things earlier. Turning to the fae, she smiled. “I really don’t picture Kyle doing any vacuuming… not the type.” *Neither Liala,* she added to herself.
She walked a little more into the room before looking at him. She opened her mouth to recite the ‘save the White Hats’ speech she had practiced once and again – it was starting to sound so familiar she could say it with her eyes closed – when she noticed a fading bruise over Darian’s eyebrow, and an ugly cut in his neck. She knew the fae healed fast, faster than herself. Those must have been pretty bad to be showing still. Alessa frowned and raised a hand to the bruise, dropping it before it actually touched the man.
“The new surge of demonic activity?” she asked needlessly.
*No kidding,* he could almost hear himself saying before he bit his tongue and simply nodded. “Yeah, it’s been rough, especially since it seems like there’s no one else helping keeping the city safe. I’m sorry,” he added after a second, realizing just what he had said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Alessa nodded, acknowledging his apology. She had noticed the sudden increase in the cities nasties too… in the same way he had, probably, but she had not been hunting alone, she tried to avoid that. Well, Ellis insisted in her avoiding that, and for once, she had agreed with him right away.
“So you’ve been fighting alone?” Her frown was still in place, “you cannot do that, Darian. This city was never safe, much less now.”
“Thanks for your concern Alessa, but I’m still alive and kicking, so don’t worry about me.”
Moving to put away his newly acquired groceries, he turned back to his friend. “So you still haven’t said to what I owe the honour of this visit?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re too old to act like an offended teenager.” Alessa snapped, a little too briskly. She closed her eyes and it was her time to apologize. “I'm sorry. And I didn’t mean you couldn’t take care of yourself. I'm just saying that none of us should be hunting alone… look-” she swallowed and looked at him in the eye. “Look what happened to Tash, if she hadn’t been alone, she’d still be here now.”
“I’ve been hunting too, with Ellis or Mike mostly. But maybe we could work together? I’d rather hunt with you actually,” she said hopefully. “We’re together in this… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The White Hats.”
“The White Hats…” the words hung in the air awkwardly. There was strange tone to his voice, and Alessa didn’t really know how to interpret it. The truth of the matter was Darian didn’t know how he felt about it. On one hand he wanted things to go back to the way they had been, back to when he’d been finally happy. On the other, things had changed and maybe it was time to move on.
“We’ve been around a long time, you and I, longer than the others.”
“What are you getting at?” Alessa replied, not sure where he was headed with this speech.
“I don’t know Alessa, do you think it’s naïve of us to think it could last? I mean come on, a rag tag gang of super heroes protecting the streets of LA? When you actually sit and think about it, it just seems so … the point is, look what happened. It started good, great even but now… half our friends are dead or missing. Is it even worth fighting for that anymore?”
Alessa was silent for a couple of minutes before answering the fae. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t asked herself those same questions.
“We’ve been around longer, yes. You more than I...” she raised her eyes to look at him. It was difficult to believe he was so old, forever frozen in his youthful body. “How old are you? A couple of hundred? And you’re immortal.” She sighed, “I’m young still, for my race. I expect to live at least five hundred years more, a thousand if I’m lucky.”
“Your point?” Darian prompted.
“Just that I’ve seen a lot of people die - and you more than I, I’m sure. People I cared about, people I loved. And then when I thought there was no hope, new people appeared to fill the emptiness. It’s the way with humans. They are frail and short lived, but they are worth the pain of losing them.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the White Hats. I know we’re depleted now, with Tash and Kate gone… and Daye and Reah in the process. Alice...” she shook her head, she didn’t want to think about Alice. “However, the reasons we got together in the first place are still valid, and those go beyond individuals.”
“I’m not letting the White Hats die, Darian. So we’ve lost people, then we get new people. I know I sound callous, but I’m sure neither Tash nor Kate would’ve wanted us to sit cross handed and do nothing to prevent the Hats from disappearing. It was their dream too.”
“And it was my dream too, but now…” The man looked thoughtfully in the air until turning his pensive gaze to Alessa. “Let’s say we try and keep it going, do we really have the right to try and recruit people knowing the risks? How many times have you come close to death doing what we do? I know for me I can’t even count it on my hands anymore. Is that something we should expose people to?”
Darian began to shake his head lightly. “I can keep up the fight myself, but I don’t think I have it in me to open this world up to someone who can avoid it.”
“If we keep up the fight by ourselves, we’ll just die alone.” Alessa said, in a definite tone. “There are more people like us out there, Darian. I’m not talking about getting schoolgirls into this, but enlisting other lone warriors. Give them a purpose, and the possibility of survival by numbers. Friendship even. It’s what Tash gave us.”
“So, how do you explain Cole and Kyle?!” he answered back a little heatedly. “They’re not even 20 and yet we let them fight by our side, for God’s sake! They could have been killed time and again, and each one would have been our fault, Alessa.” Darian turned back to the groceries so he didn’t have to look at his friend in the eyes. “I’d rather die alone than watch either of them die before their time.”
Alessa flushed a little. He was hardly wrong about that, and yet…
“The White Hats didn’t look for Cole and Kyle, it’s more they found us. This is their world, we had nothing to do with that.” Alessa bit her lip, remembering the first time she had seen Cole, straining to save an unknown man from vampires. They hadn’t taught him magic, it was part of him. And Kyle… well, Kyle probably had been killing vampires for a long time now. He was just too good at it to be an amateur.
“Do you honestly believe they’d be better without us? What would have happened if you hadn’t found Cole when you did? He’d be probably dead because of drugs and magic. Or Kyle for what matters? After Delancre finished with him?”
Alessa shook her head. “It is better this way. At least we get to keep an eye on them... when they aren’t saving our hides, of course.”
The man smiled slightly; it was true that the kids had done their fair share of saving him and other White Hats in the past. And, she had a point about the boys already being in their world prior to joining the White Hats… but still…
Looking up, he could see a pleading look in Alessa’s eyes. “You really think we can hold this sinking ship together?” he sighed.
“Absolutely.”
Darian chuckled, either Alessa had renewed his faith or he had completely gone crazy, but whatever reason it was, his chips were in; he would stay with the White Hats.
Alessa smiled when it became clear that Darian was finally accepting her idea.
“So you’re in?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he answered, although he didn’t sound too convinced.
Alessa's smile grew brighter, his doubts didn’t matter, as long as he was willing to give it a shot. “Then let’s start repairing the ship”
Flashbacks and Explanations
******FLASHBACK******
Treatment Room 12, The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Thursday, 2nd August 2007
10:14am Local Time
Dr Jillian Lennon sat by Kate’s side. The room was completely dark now except for a small lamp. Kate slept silently, her slender body rising and falling in time to her breathing. Jillian had been sat by her side, devotedly monitoring the young wiccan’s vital signs for over seven hours now. Kate still hadn’t awoken yet, but her BP and brainwave output were both stable – more than that they were strong.
“I’m so sorry,” Jillian mumbled uselessly, staring at Kate’s long, delicate fingers. They were of the same pale, milky flesh as the rest of her, curled slightly in on themselves, her index finger twitching intermittently. Jillian reached out and took hold of her hand, gently drawing the tips of her fingers over Kate’s. “You have to believe me, if I could change any of this… make it right again, I would.”
With a weary groan, Kate rolled her head slightly to one side, blinking her eyes as she focused on the woman’s tired form. “Jillian?” she whispered hoarsely, “is that you?”
At hearing her name, the doctor raised her head, moving a little closer so that she could be seen. “It’s me Kate,” she said softly, running the palm of her hand across her brow. The room was climate controlled but she still felt distinctly chill. Straightening out her paper gown, Jillian opened her mouth to speak, closing it again when no sounds came out.
“I… I work for the Ministry,” she said finally, sighing in relief as the words left her lips. Ever since arriving in Los Angeles, ever since that first moment she’d seen Kate again, Jillian had been rehearsing her explanation. It all seemed so pathetic now.
“I-I was sent to The Coven of Sindell a few months before we… before we anticipated your course of action. It seemed the most probable refuge considering…” she sighed again, continuing to stroke Kate’s forehead in a soothing, repetitious motion. “I was supposed to keep an eye on you there, make sure that you found a cure for the Hyde virus and to make preparations for when you would be brought here.”
Kate’s eyelids dipped slowly, like an quiet sigh of disappointment. “I... I thought you were… my friend,” she whispered eventually, her voice rasping and dry.
“I know,” murmured Jillian, combing her fingers through Kate’s soft red hair. “But believe me, I didn’t want to do anything to hurt you. Once I got to know you… I liked you so much, you were so nice to me, made me feel like I was somebody… special.”
“Awake I see.”
Jillian stood abruptly, stumbling backwards as Elliot Zimmerman walked into the room. She shoved her hands into her pockets, her face turning a bright shade of pink.
“Dr Lennon you may leave us for a short while.”
“Bu-ut,” stammered Jillian, looking reluctant to leave her post.
“Catherine has questions Dr Lennon, questions that I may be able to answer. You will give us a few minutes alone.”
“Yes Professor.”
Elliot watched as the doctor left the room before turning back to Kate and smiling. His eyes travelled the length of her fragile body; her nakedness still barely concealed beneath the thin paper gown. Sitting down in Jillian’s now, vacant chair, Elliot stroked a hand through Kate’s hair and smiled again.
“You are so like your mother… she was a renowned beauty too. I think she would be very proud of you, Catherine.”
Kate frowned and when she did, the tiny electrodes on the side of her head sent painful reflex signals through her skin. Wincing and forcing herself to open her eyes, Kate focused on the man. “How do you know my mother?”
Rising to his feet, Elliot gave the medical equipment a cursory glance, examining one of the IV infusions and adjusting the dosage slightly. “We moved in similar circles, nothing more. She was very fond of Jack, madly in love in fact. When they had you it was… why it was as though all their dreams had come true, but it was a sad day for England when they returned to live in America.”
Turning away, Elliot flicked the IV tube to get the fluid moving again and then adjusted the dials some more. “I’m sure I could reminisce all day but you need your rest. If you had any questions…”
Kate looked up at the array of medical equipment that she was attached to. “Why… why am I hooked up to all these machines?”
“It’s for your own safety,” explained Elliot simply, sitting down again and crossing his legs. “These machines are here to monitor your health, you’ve been given a very powerful drug, Kate. Very powerful indeed. But don’t worry about that yet, we’ll have a proper little chat when you’re feeling a bit better, you must be quite exhausted – even for a woman who’s been asleep for days.”
Kate resisted the urge to frown, her nose wrinkling slightly. “How long have I been here? Where… where am I?”
Elliot smiled, “so many questions, in answer to the first you have been receiving treatment for the past four days, but if you mean when were you last in Los Angeles then the answer would be almost a week. As for your second question, you are in one of The Ministry’s primary centres for the study of Siagics… that is all you need to know.”
Kate sniffed and tried to look around but she could barely even move her neck. Finally, she turned her eyes back to Elliot. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Perching himself upon the edge of Jillian’s chair, Elliot took Kate’s hand and turned it over gently. “You believe in destiny, don’t you Catherine?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he just continued all the while running the edge of his thumb across the palm of Kate’s hand.
“It is your destiny to be here with us Kate. The Coven of Sindell knew it, as the last scion of the Wiccham bloodline you hold tremendous power. When your mother died, the council elders came to us for advice. But in the end… it was their decision to deceive your father into believing you had died too.”
Elliot shook his head, a slight smile curling his lower lip. “Even at such a young age they could tell… they could see it in you. The Gift, it was so strong, it was obvious even then that you were destined for great things. Your mother… she scoffed at our ideals, said that we could have you over her dead body… if only she’d known just how right her words would be.”
Kate felt frustrated tears gather in her eyes as she struggled to move again. She didn’t want to listen to this man and his repulsive insinuations anymore, his ‘explanations’ only created more questions in her mind that she couldn’t even begin to make sense of.
Elliot smiled at her fruitless efforts and tightened her restraints. “You’ll do yourself an injury if you fall from such a height,” he informed her in that same kindly, paternal voice of his. “Besides, there’s nowhere for you to go just yet, you’ll do better to relax.”
“Oh Catherine,” he continued, sitting back down in his chair. “You know I still had my doubts about you, but when I saw how you coped fighting with Trask… the way you were able to reach inside yourself, to access new reserves of power, to tap into such a potent force within your own psyche… THAT, well THAT was most impressive of all, not to mention your compassionate nature in showing mercy to the man that would have happily slaughtered you and your family.”
Elliot sniffed, turning his attention to one of the medical machines Kate was hooked up to, adjusting the settings again. “Some might have called that weakness, an inability to follow things through to their inevitable end. But I knew it could be driven out of you, and I was right too… you only have to ask Anthony Green to figure that out.”
He smiled, looking down at Kate and the anxious expression on her face. “That must have been truly beautiful to witness. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but I read the reports and saw the corpse, how much pain do you suppose he felt as his brains were pulverised? Not that I’m sure he didn’t deserve it, a man like that deserves no less.”
Elliot stroked his hand across Kate’s forehead soothingly, almost gentle even. “Your first human kill… that’s how I knew you were ready. The first is always the hardest, but the second is easier and the third? The third is pure simplicity in comparison. You’ll see…”
“I don’t know what… what you expect me to do…” moaned Kate weakly, trying to escape the man’s touch though she could barely move more than a few centimetres in either direction.
“Then I’ll tell you,” said Elliot seriously, sitting by her side again. “Something stirs beneath our feet, Catherine. Something unimaginably powerful and evil, a new Hellmouth that is about to emerge. The Ministry were first alerted to such an event over a decade ago, to the best of our abilities we monitor the flows of mystical energy along the most prominent lay lines that track this earth. The past few years, since the implosion back in Sunnydale, have been spent consulting with the most powerful mages and seers in an attempt to pinpoint this manifestation. Hellmouths, as you probably know, are at their most volatile in those first few months as they begin to settle into a new location. All those mystical energies that it contains, in a wild state of flux. We have to control it, or all hell might break loose.”
“And you are my key,” continued Elliot softly, trailing his fingers through Kate’s hair. “Well, one of them anyway. Surely you’ve felt it? A child of Gaia, connected to the earth? You have the gift of foresight, Catherine, you must have been experiencing the visions for sometime now. An endless painful death that would scorch the land, a dark everlasting battle between good and evil… the end of the world?”
Kate didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. She remembered too well the visions she’d begun to receive shortly after returning from England, of the violent destruction of Los Angeles, of the fighting and death… At the time it hadn’t made sense and Kate had attributed it to her growing anxiety over the impending battle with Delancre, but she’d always felt, deep down inside, that it portended something more, something bigger.
“You are tired,” stated Elliot quietly, seeing the growing weariness in Kate’s face. “I’ve given you much to think about I’m sure, but sleep now.” He carefully drew his fingertips down over her eyelids, lulling her into a slumber. “Sleep child, we’ll talk more later.”
A Visit From Alessa
Sunday, 6th October 2007
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
2:49pm
Galen sat back in the old leather armchair and sipped from his glass of scotch. It was barely three in the afternoon but he’d begun to drink much earlier in the day now, it numbed the pain and that was about all he could bare in his current state.
His hand hovered over the leather bound journal that rested on the coffee table, the one that he’d bought his wife for their anniversary. He’d found it when looking through some of Kate’s things, half hidden beneath a pile of neatly folded lingerie, it had been a surprise to Galen to discover that she had indeed kept a diary and had used his gift within which to inscribe her most deepest desires.
Picking up the journal, he turned it over in his hands before opening it and flicking through the pages. He let his fingers run across the smooth paper, indented with hundreds of soft, curving characters slanting across the pages in uniform lines. Galen held the book up to his lips, resting his nose over the edge and breathed in the scent of those pages, it wasn’t anything familiar, dried ink and dust mainly though he tried desperately to conjure up the scent of his wife, warm, sweet and feminine. Like freshly baked blueberry muffins or the smell of jasmine on an early summer’s morning.
He sighed, picturing Kate sat in the garden beneath the leafy branches of their oak tree, bent over the book that he now held tightly in his hands, her own fingers surreptitiously gripping the pen as she wrote in that delicate joined-up handwriting. Galen flicked through the pages again before turning back to the first, his fingers tracing across the lines of words, words written with thoughtful intent. Kate, pouring her every thought out across the pages. Galen took another sip of scotch from his glass.
How many times had she stood in that same spot, watching the charming house? How many times had she come here in search of help or advise? Alessa sighed, as she rested on the hood of her car. It was different now, without Kate. She missed her a lot. Her wit and common sense, and kind heart. It was difficult to imagine that house without the witch inside.
She knew what she’d find in the house today, and that made her apprehensive. Nik had told her that Galen was taking the death of his wife with denial and a touch of irrationality. She could understand it. She had gone through that twice. Only time had helped her get over Morris’ death, and – ironic as it was – Hyde had helped her endure the pain of Chance’s. Galen had had none yet. Denial was the first step, and it may look like irrationality to those outside. It was just a way to cope. She could understand him.
She hoped she could help him with her proposal. A little bit, at least.
Galen was lighting a cigarette when he heard the doorbell ring. For once Jack was not at home and so he had to drag himself up from the chair, placing the journal back on the coffee table as he stood. He walked unevenly, not drunk but not completely sober either, he’d not been completely sober for the past week since deciding to return home.
He coughed noisily as he opened the door, a guttural smokers cough that he’d not experienced for years. “Alessa,” he choked hoarsely as he regained his breath, pushing the door open wider. “Come in.”
Alessa bit back a witty response to the man’s cough. Galen was in no state for jokes. For one, he looked much worse than she had expected. He looked dishevelled, and his red eyes had difficult focusing on her. The acrid smell of smoke and booze got to her like a wave and she forced herself to smile. Well, at least he was open to receive her.
“Hello Galen, thank you,” she said, as she entered the house and he closed the door behind her. She took a quick look around before turning to the man again. There were tell tale signs of his misery all over the place, a couple of empty ‘Johnny Walker’ bottles, cigarette butts overflowing the ashtrays, scattered clothing and Chinese food boxes. Oh dear.
“Do you have any coffee?” She asked, walking directly to Kate’s kitchen without looking at him. The big room looked as messy as the living room had, except there was no sign of cooking. Just more empty take-away cartons and bottles. Alessa opened the jars on top the counter until she found the one for coffee.
“Strong and sweet, that’s how I like it,” she said, as she started to fill the coffee machine. She didn’t look at him, but rather heard him leaning on the door. “What about you?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” said Galen, smothering another cough behind his fist. “I can…” he coughed again, “take care of myself.”
Alessa turned to look at him, not a glare just a look that asked ‘who are you trying to kid?’ Galen sighed, stubbing out the remainder of his cigarette on a dirty plate. “Fine, okay… Coffee, that’d be great, black, strong… it’s all good. Damn,” he muttered, rubbing his hands on sides of his jeans. “You’re worse than my wife-“
Alessa turned back to the coffee to avoid the man’s hurt expression. “I’m a teacher,” she answered simply. “Or rather was, somehow the school doesn’t like me anymore.”
As the coffee started brewing, Alessa took a big garbage bag from under the top and started dumping the trash. After hesitating for a second, Galen started helping her out. By the time the coffee was ready, the kitchen had returned to at least some resemblance of order. Alessa poured two mugs of coffee, laced hers freely with sugar, and sat down on the kitchen table, opposite to the man. The smell of coffee overwhelmed her, and she leaned forward to enjoy it. “You just have to love coffee.”
Galen nursed the hot mug in his hands, letting the steam rise and warm his face. “Kate would be appalled to see me like this,” he mumbled with a sigh, “letting the house get into such a state… You don’t have to pretend,” he said, raising his gaze to meet Alessa’s. “I know what kind of a state I’m in, I should be taking care of things better, Kate… Kate…” His voice faltered again and he fell silent, raising the cup of coffee to his mouth and taking a long sip.
“Kate wouldn’t want you to self recriminate either,” Alessa said softly. “One does as one can. It’s not easy.” She took a sip of her own coffee and bit her lip. She didn’t know what to tell him, when you were in his situation words like ‘time heals it all’ didn’t seem right, even if they were.
“I… I’ve found that when you have something to focus on, some purpose… things seem to get easier. Not easy, just easier. Work a lot, hunt a lot, drain yourself so much that when you hit the bed you fall immediately asleep. Even if you feel like a robot going through the motions… it sorta numbs the pain.”
“I know,” said Galen hollowly. Working to the point of exhaustion had been his way of dealing with Emma’s death - to the detriment of his marriage. But maybe Alessa was right this time, since returning home he’d felt lost and empty, he still had three months left before his leave of absence ended at the LAPD – and even then, it wasn’t something he was looking forward to.
“Nikolai said…” he paused momentarily, turning the coffee cup around in his hands. Was he really ready to get back into all this again? “He said something about a surge in demonic activity lately.”
Alessa almost sighed in relief. She had been turning the issue around in her mind, not sure how to broach the subject. “He’s right. It’s been pretty difficult lately. Worse than when we dismembered the Brotherhood and all the monstruos started coming back.”
“Too difficult, not to face alone. I- I’ve talked to Darian and Nikolai. We want to get the White Hats working together again.” She raised her eyes from the coffee mug, “I’m here to ask you if you still want to be part of it.”
Galen thought for a moment, tapping his fingers silently on the table. “You know, it meant so much to Kate, to be part of something like that again, it meant a lot to me too. Knowing there were others dedicated to the fight, it made it easier I think, made us feel not so alone. The White Hats have to survive through all this, if, when Kate comes back, it’s what she’d want. You can count me in.”
“That’s great, Galen. Wow, I'm relieved.” Alessa smiled brightly to the man, suppressing the urge to hug him. “That’s exactly the way I feel, but it was getting tiresome to try to convince people of it.”
Galen smiled weakly, “things do seem kind of… I don’t know, quiet I guess. Apart from Nikolai, you’re the only other person who’s dropped by since I came home. I tried to call Daye months back, before I left LA, but I still haven’t heard from her. I thought, considering how close she and Kate were…”
He shrugged, drinking some more of his coffee, the strong liquid making his head feel a little less like it was full of cotton wool. “And Reah… I know the two of them had their problems but… I guess Tash’s death really hit people hard.”
“It did,” she answered, thinking about Alice’s reaction. “I ran into Alice the other day… she’s not coming back. And Daye… well, I haven’t been able to reach her either. Sam’s been covering for her, but his excuses are lame, to say the least. I don’t know what’s happening with her. You say she didn’t call you at all?”
Galen shook his head, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “No… I thought it was because she didn’t want to know. She and Kate, well I thought they’d resolved their problems but when she never returned my calls I just figured that, perhaps, she didn’t care. It didn’t seem like her, I mean, she was Kate’s closest friend and I would have called by her place but I was… preoccupied I guess you’d call it.”
“Do you think she knows?” Alessa asked, frowning. It did seem so much unlike Daye.
“I don’t know,” Galen admitted sadly, “but she’d just lost Drew and Tash… I know what it’s like when your world falls apart like that. Maybe she just needed some time alone.”
Rising from his chair, Galen walked over to the counter and removed a bottle of Irish whisky from the shelf. All the talk of death and the loss of their friends gave him a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach. It was the same kind of feeling he got when he really began to miss Kate, when he’d spend hours in their room just touching her things, smelling her perfume and reading her journal.
He opened the bottle and poured a sizeable measure into the half-empty coffee cup, filling it back to the brim.
Alessa watched him and bit her lip. She felt guilty for bringing up the topic, but then, there were some things that needed to be said. She stood up and walked to Galen, resting a hand on his arm.
“Alone is good for a while. Afterwards you need to let your friends in. Believe me, Galen, I know what you’re going through, and a bottle of whisky is not going to help.”
“No, it isn’t,” admitted Galen after drinking half the contents of the cup. “Believe me Alessa, I know, but I don’t… I can’t figure out any other way right now. It makes it easier, not being able to feel it so bad, the emptiness I mean.”
Galen felt his eyes grow warm and watery and his face crumple slightly, taking another large gulp of the alcohol laced coffee, he sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I appreciate your concern but really, I’m okay, I’m… doing okay.”
Alessa frowned. “No, you aren’t. Stop being brave.” She smiled and waited till he’d finished the cup.
“Let’s try my method now, okay? You know Ellis’ line of work, right? Well, he’s been searching for this demon hunter for months now. A sneaky bastard. Likes killing friendly demons, people like me,” she added blinking an eye at him. “I promised him I’d go looking this new place near the docks, the ‘Fish Tank’, heard of it?”
Galen was glad that Alessa had waited until he’d finished his drink before springing that one on him. “How bad am I going to look if I admit to knowing what you’re talking about?”
Alessa rolled her eyes, sharing the joke. “Oh, I'm sure you’ve had to visit your share of strip clubs while in the line of duty.”
“Is this off the record, councillor?” Galen chuckled laconically. “I’ve heard of the ‘Fish Tank’ but, so far, my line of duty hasn’t given me an excuse to become better aquatinted with the establishment. So you think this demon hunter might hit this place next?”
“Some of the girls are demonesses. This psycho has taken a liking to demon strippers, and there aren’t so many places where demon girls can work. I want to take a look at the club, see who doesn’t fit, that kind of thing. Your cop instincts could help me there.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Galen couldn’t help but smile. “You’re asking me to go check out a strip club? With you? Well of course I’d be happy to help.”
Alessa rolled her eyes again, feigning exasperation, but she was happy to see interest creep into his eyes. “I'm sure it’s an ordeal, but, you know, somebody has to do it. Now, there’s something more you could help me with before going down there.”
“And that would be?”
“A change of clothes. Man clothes. You don’t think I'm going to a strippers club looking like this, do you?” she said, signalling the flowered peasant dress she was wearing.
“Not unless you wanted a job,” Galen held his hands up in the air as Alessa shot him another of her looks. “I’m joking! I admit I’m rusty, it hasn’t happened in a while…” he cracked an awkward smile. “So you’re going undercover? Well I’m sure I’ve something wearable, once you, er… shift?”
“First give me the clothes, then I shift. I’d look awkward if I did it now… “ She smiled, an idea suddenly crossing her mind. “Now, that’s an idea.” At Galen’s puzzled look Alessa added, “a dancing job… that’d be a good way of surveying the place.”
Galen smiled again, “perhaps I should just find you some clothes.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 13th
Norway, a small island just south of Tromso
Darlome stood on a stone beach looking across the vast expanse of the ocean, waiting for the boat to arrive. Staring at the steel grey sky the nagging feeling of dread began to sweep over him, he was about to visit the land of the Fomorians, the ancient race older than magic itself, it was said, beaten back by the earliest man thousands of years ago, a race known for their ugliness and brutality. He had no idea what they looked like other than the stories his grandfather had told him. He'd told him how when they first saw the signs of humanity they tried to wipe them out long before there was even a slayer. The humans fought back brutally, but were said to have been saved only by the Spirit of Vengeance and Justice.
Darlome shook his head in disgust, he was risking his life trying to save a vampire and a kid who tried to kill him… his family. “Fuck,” he muttered which got Inés attention, but he waved her off before she could speak. She was doing the great job of guarding the campfire. The only lead he had was that of the Spirit of Vengeance - he had heard Vincent refer himself as that many times during their conversations about his new powers.
Darlome moved towards Inés and spoke. “You can keep watch for the longboat. It’s my turn to sit by the fire.” As Inés plodded off he continued to ponder what exactly he was doing. He was walking into the heart of a village entirely populated by Demons older than his race, before his race even came to earth, and asking questions like who managed to wipe out your ancestors. He had even heard tales that the mythical monster Grendel was a Fomorian.
No longer had Darlome got comfortable he heard Inés shout to him that the boat was close. As he got to his feet and turned his gaze towards the ocean, he was confronted by the sight of a large longboat enough to carry at least a hundred men just a few hundred meters from the ocean. There was no way he could have missed that until he realized hidden magic island makes sense for a magic boat.
As the boat landed on the beach seven blonde haired giants walked towards him. They were large, almost nine feet tall, but not that huge. Inés backed towards Darlome and stood beside him, he could see her visibly tense up at their sight.
Darlome took a step forward and spoke. “Hail Fomorians! Dh'arlo'méaftris of the Bracken Demon Clan of Wolfs Head Tribe.”
The lead giant, a massive man with a huge double bladed battle axe hanging at his side that could have easily cut a man in two, spoke with a definite Scandinavian accent. “We are not Fomorians, little Demon, we are the children of Odin. We are granted great strength by the gods; in return we protect the world from the Demon Fomorians.”
A pin could have dropped in that moment and would be heard by all. Darlome did not like how he said the word Demon. “You are the ones who will take us to their island, correct?”
The leader smiled and nodded. “Yes, little demon, we will, but we will wait for you no longer than an hour. After that we will leave you on the island, trapped until the day you die.”
Darlome would have voiced a protest if he did not see the men on his flanks grip their huge weapons. “That is fine with us. This is Inés, she will be accompanying me to the island. I trust there is no problem with that… Mr.?”
The leader shook his head. “There is no problem with that. More food for the Fomorians and my name is of no importance. Get on the boat”
Darlome grabbed his equipment as did Inés and they tossed it aboard the boat and jumped on. As he helped Inés aboard and they set sail for the island his mind Began to drift towards the task at hand. Speaking to Inés, “this is a long shot and a half, I wish you just did what I wanted you to in the firs place.”
Inés shook her head, “I’m not going to leave you to do something this important on your own.”
Greece, ten days ago.
“What do you mean ‘go back to the jungle’?” asked Inés, her dark eyes flashing below the curly fringe of her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Darlome. I know you have a plan, I’ve seen you meditating and heard you talking to the old witch.” She took a quick glance at the woman next to the fire, blushing slightly, but she seemed not to have heard her.
There had been a hut between the olives, an old hut more fit to a fairy tale than modern day Greece. And living in the hut an old woman who fit the witch stereotype – wart in the nose and all – so well that Inés had almost laughed at her sight. Almost, because the woman had promptly commanded her to enter her home and lay Darlome down on a bed, and started talking in rapid Greek while she worked around the demon. A couple of days later, the Bracken was completely recovered and obviously already planning something.
Inés had never been able to completely understand Darlome, but she had never doubted his devotion to his friends, Connor and Vincent. She was sure the demon’s plans had something to do with her lover, and she wasn’t going anywhere if that was the case. She wouldn’t give up on Connor just because his demon had gotten loose; she loved him too much. Inés thought for a minute about Alessa, and how she had stuck to Chance when the man had ‘changed’. It would be amusing if it wasn't so unfortunate. Ironic even. She hadn’t understood her cousin then, this gave her a new perspective. Sadly.
"I know you have a plan, Darlome." She repeated, her voice forceful, as she sought the eyes of the demon. "I want to be part of it."
Darlome face contorted to its demonic form and back quickly. Even now as an adult he couldn’t control his shifting – when angry or threatened he changed, and this was one of those times.
“You don’t understand, Inés. This isn’t some grand adventure where we find a magic potion. Chances are people will die… I could change James back to his old self easily, but you saw what that demon did. It took him what… seconds to change him, when it took Krispin days of brutal torture. I’ll tell you this now. I'm not taking you anywhere. You are weak and innocent and that’s the way James would want you to stay."
Inés seethed at his patronizing tone. Her eyes flashed again, this time blood red and she bared her teeth, letting them grow. A second later she was facing him in her true form, all brown hair and white fangs. “I'm not weak,” she hissed through her demon mouth, she raised one huge paw, letting her retractile claws show under the pads on her palms. “And I'm hardly innocent. I may not be a fighter, but I can fight.”
She morphed back to her human form, forcing herself to curb her anger. “And I don’t care what Connor may have wanted. I can think for myself, thanks. If you’re going to help Connor, I want to be there.”
A quick sneer appeared across his face before he answered. “Just because you have fangs and claws doesn’t make you a killer. And that is what we will have to do, a lot. I know you spent some time whoring around with some gangsters and other nasties, but that doesn’t prepare you for all the things that might happen on this wonderful little trip.”
Inés just looked at the demon, refusing to feel offended by his words, she knew he wanted her to desist. “You don’t like me at all, do you, Darlome?” she said at last.
Darlome smiled as he answered, hoping it would burn. “No… not at all”
“And,” he said before she could even say anything “the fact that you didn’t slap me like any normal woman would just goes to show your softness, you’re a demon, woman! You should have had your claws at my neck for something like that! Your race is peaceful, not used to the ways of the outside world – it’s going to get vicious out there.”
Darlome moved towards the back of the hut and placed his hand on the wall and spoke a few words in Latin and almost instantly the wall disappeared to reveal a massive room filled with all guns and blades
He turned towards Inés and motioned towards a large footlocker in the corner. “There is a change of clothes for you in there; we will be travelling north to Norway. I’m not going to use magic to get us there, the less magic I use the better. I have a feeling whatever changed James is looking for us, the old woman is a friend of my grandmother she used to baby-sit me when I was a child; she has done a great service by allowing us to stay here. I will thank her and leave soon so you better grab some guns and swords; she has arranged for one of her grandsons to pick us up and take us to town where we can buy a van to travel north.”
Darlome turned on his heel and quickly left the hut to speak to the old woman waiting out side.
Inés stood for a few minutes there, just watching the door, before his words dawned on her. He was taking her with him, even if he thought she was a useless demon, he was taking her. She moved towards the hidden locker and started to choose her weapons. She couldn’t help but smile. Inés didn’t really care what Darlome thought of her, she knew her own worth. And she was going to help Connor.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday, 6th October 2007
6:11pm
Alessa wrinkled her nose as they approached the docks. The smell of decaying fish was strong, much stronger than the fresh smell of the ocean. You could almost forget you were close to the ocean, if fish weren’t part of it, of course. She looked at Galen, walking by her side, and noticed he didn’t seem too distraught by the ‘aroma’, but then the human sense of smell wasn’t as developed as her own. She burrowed her hands in Galen’s denim jacket pockets, and tried to keep his step. Longer legs required a different pace, and usually she needed some minutes to adjust her body to the changes.
To anybody watching, they’d just see a couple of men walking carelessly down the docks. A handsome middle age man with somewhat dishevelled, spiky hair and two day’s worth of stubble, and a younger Latino guy in jeans and a denim jacket. Both tall and well built, not looking out of place at all. They looked as if they knew where they were going too.
The place wasn’t too far from where they were. A converted warehouse, close to the water. The ‘Fish Tank’ was popular enough around the harbour population. Alessa had never come close to it, and she really didn’t know the place. Not even from the outside. *Never needed to* she told herself, a grimace in her male features. Actually, she seldom came down there. The harbour wasn’t one of her favourite haunting grounds. Apart from the smell, there was always the possibility of being thrown into the ocean.
The first thing she saw was the neon sign in the warehouse’s front, ‘The Fish Tank.’ It wasn’t on, since it was still early. Maybe it wasn’t even open yet.
“So this is it,” she said, looking at the door. “Do you think it’s closed?”
Galen shrugged, turning from Alessa and looking up at the drab, greystone building. He was still finding it hard to get used to the demoness in such a guise, even her voice was different, deeper and more gruff… well, male.
“Maybe they heard about this demon hunter of yours?” he ventured, “or maybe this just isn’t the kind of place that likes to advertise that they’re open for business.” Galen tried the door, to his surprise it was unlocked, he pushed it open and from further inside the slight heavy beat of music could be heard.
Galen led the way inside, grinning at Alessa over his shoulder. “Or maybe someone just forgot to pay their electric bill, eh?”
“Yeah, probably…” she said, peering inside to see a huge space, high ceiling, decorated in blacks, blues, and violent reds. At the back there was a bar with a blue light on and a big overweight man serving a couple of men sitting at the stools. There were also tables in front of the stage that went out in a 'U' shape.
There weren’t many people in the club yet, but it was certainly open. The stage was empty, though, even if there were a couple of girls serving the tables. They looked like they were the strippers themselves, too. Black leather, red push-up corsets… definitely these girls worked the stage. They looked quite normal too. She couldn’t smell anything apart from humanity in them.
“Maybe Ellis was mistaken,” she said softly to Galen, as they sat by the bar. “This looks normal enough.”
“Not quite,” he answered, signalling the wall near the stage. “I guess that’s where this joint’s name come from.”
Alessa looked and had to look again, surprised she had missed it. Galen was right. There were large round windows along the wall, like portholes. On the other side there was a big… fish tank. That wasn’t strange in itself, only there was something else apart from fish. A couple of sea demons, or demonesses, glided gracefully in the water. Their greenish skin glowing softly in the underwater lights.
“Rinna demons,” Alessa said weakly.
“Hmm,” said Galen vaguely, trying his hardest not to stare as one of the scantily clad waitresses walked passed on her way to the bar, her young curvaceous body bouncing in time to her steps. He missed his wife.
“So…” he said finally, clearing his throat and returning his focus to Alessa. “Any idea what this demon hunter guy looks like?”
She turned to the bartender and signalled for a couple of beers before looking at Galen again. “He’s male and human, shoots a p40 and smokes Marlboros.” She grimaced, “not much, I know.”
“No…” Galen agreed, “you just described practically every cop down at the precinct.” He nodded at the bartender as he served up two beers, swiping up his bottle and taking a long drink.
Alessa grimaced again, and was about to answer when the lights in the room dimmed a little, signalling the beginning of the show. The stage spots turned on, focused on a sleek silver pole at the end of the U that went from the ceiling to the floor, and some other more colourful lights illuminated the rest so no one would miss the dancing.
There was no announcement, and then a girl with pigtails in a pleaded skirt, white shirt and knee high socks walked onto the stage. She looked just like a school girl, if you didn’t look at the long sinuous tail that wrapped around her left leg, just till her black Mary Jane shoes, or the feline ears protruding from her blonde hair. She tapped her foot on the stage before the song started. When the first chords of ‘Toxic’ started to sound and the cat-woman started to dance, it was clear that she definitely wasn’t human, she moved too fluidly and flexibly for a woman. Alessa was reminded of Inés’ dancing.
She turned to say something to Galen and she caught the enraptured look in the man’s face. She hid her smile in the beer bottle and started watching the rest of the Tank’s clientele. No one in the club spoke or clapped. They all just started at the demoness, and Alessa rolled her eyes. She got up and started walking towards the stage, where most of the people gathered.
“Wait, Al-“ whispered Galen when he saw Alessa rise to her feet and move towards the front row of seats by the platform. Slipping free from his chair he followed her, his eyes threading through the crowds of patrons - while every so often lingering on a pretty woman.
“I am a sick, sick man,” he mumbled quietly when he caught himself staring at a young demoness in a kitten outfit. Catching up with Alessa, he continued surveying the assembled people. “Hey, why don’t you tell me in future when you get a hunch?” he asked silently.
“Sorry, I thought you were enjoying the show,” she answered, suppressing a smile.
The cat woman continued dancing around the stage and the short skirt would flip up every once in a while and flash the audience with a little colour. The men were starting to get out of their stupor and the shouting had started, especially after the girl ripped off her shirt and showed a lace black bra under it. “And I don’t have a hunch… these people look normal enough for me. Just ordinary, horny males.”
Alessa almost laughed at Galen’s hoarse reply, and again started to move around the crowd, sipping her beer from time to time. She didn’t want to look too out of place, but nobody was paying attention to her. The girl had started to rub herself against the pole. *Men!* she told herself, with a half smile.
There were two other doors apart from the one she and Galen and had entered through. One looked like the artist’s door, it led just to the stage. The other probably led to the more private areas of the club. There was a big hunk standing cross-armed next to it. His black t-shirt had the word ‘bouncer’ stamped on front. Not that anybody would have been in any doubt. He wasn’t the only one, also. There were at least four more bouncers spread around the club. Near the entrance, the girl’s door, and another two standing close to the tank’s portholes.
Alessa took another sip of her beer. That was definitely more surveillance than usual, evidently word of the hunter had reached the club owner’s ears. She noticed the one near the portholes looking at her and she quickly turned to watch the show again. The girl was only in her thong and bra by now, and the audience was busy tucking bills into their strings. That must be a very profitable business indeed, she thought.
The shouts suddenly grew as the girl finally took off her bra, showing her definitely inhuman breasts to the public. The crowd called for her to throw it into the audience and when she complied, it landed on a certain policeman’s head.
Alessa laughed and shook her head, her hand in her mouth. Then she looked at the bouncer to see if he was still looking at her. For a second she stared, dumbfounded as a man, clad only in jeans and a shirt appeared in the middle of the water. With a shout, she ran towards the portholes and the bouncer. The man stretched his hands, a gun in one of them, but she shook her head motioning to the tank. She didn’t get to say anything, when tons of water poured from the portholes, washing her and everything in its way away.
It took Galen a few seconds longer to respond, such were Alessa’s demonic reflexes. Once he realised what was happening he turned in the direction of the roaring water just in time to see the dead bodies of the rinna’s wash to the floor in a mass of shapeless fins and gills, their previously shimmering green skin peppered with bullet holes.
“Holy Sh-“ began Galen, quickly removing his gun from the inside of his jacket. But before he could respond several more shots of gunfire reverberated around the room followed by screams and cries. Galen turned back to the stage to see the feline dancer splayed out on the runway, her blood pooling around her now lifeless corpse. For a moment, Galen thought he saw something, a flash of colour that was moving too quickly to be seen, but it was gone.
“Don’t move! Everybody… stay where you are!” he ordered uselessly, removing his police badge while the crowd of patrons and dancers alike continued to scream and run in all directions. Realising that his efforts to control the crowds were failing, he pocketed his pistol and returned to the stripper on the stage in the hopes that she might still be alive.
Drenched with water, Alessa stood up, walked a few steps and slipped, falling to her knees besides one of the Rinnas. She moved her silvery hair out of the woman’s face, searching for signs of life. She knew Rinnas well, she’d posed as one time and again at the Council’s mansion pools. She also knew that when not in the water, they looked just like humans. These girls were dead, their keeping their form was proof enough. It was just… so sudden.
“Who are you?” Alessa looked up into the dark eyes of the bouncer, seemingly the only one who had kept his head through this chaos. She shook her head, and stood up to walk to Galen. “Just who the hell are you!?” he shouted again.
“Nobody useful,” she finally answered, weakly, as she looked at the stripper’s dead body.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday, 6th October 2007
The Fish Tank
7:22pm
“…and you’re sure you didn’t see anything? It doesn’t matter how insignificant it might seem, perhaps you’ve noticed somebody been hanging around the club for the past few nights, somebody acting suspicious?”
“Look Mister I appreciate the concern,” said Estella Bergstrom, one of the Fish Tank’s best paid strippers – a tall, well sculptured Volo demon half-breed, “but this is a strip joint, everyone who comes in here looks suspicious, know what I mean? This ain’t exactly the kind of place where the nice boys your momma told you ‘bout hang around.”
“Well… thank-you for your time anyway, Ma’am,” said Galen with a slight grimace as he rose to his feet. He pressed his hand against the woman’s shoulder in a brief gesture of consolation before heading towards where Alessa stood by the bar.
By the look in Galen’s face Alessa knew he hadn’t been lucky. Neither had she, after talking to the bartender and Ned Lacy, the dark skinned bouncer who had stood by the fish tank. Ned couldn’t really tell her much, since he had started working in the Tank that same week, one of the improved security measures the club’s owner had taken after learning of the killings in the ‘In Vino Veritas’. Much as it had served.
“No luck, huh?” She said, making a face and reaching to brush her hair, finding none, though. She hadn’t changed yet, she didn’t want to alert anybody of her own demonic nature, not with a ruthless demon hunter around. “I called Ellis already, he’ll be here soon.”
“Good,” said Galen with a sigh, sitting down on one of the bar stools. “I’ve talked to all the girls in the back including the waitresses and not one of them saw anything. One or two said they felt something brush past them really quickly, but when they turned to look, nothing was there.”
He turned to face Alessa, wishing that she’d turn back into her ‘usual’ form so that he would stop having to look twice every time he spoke to her. “So what do you think? Is there any possibility that this demon hunter could be a demon himself?”
Alessa pictured the flashing image she had seen inside the tank, he had looked human enough. “No.” she said, “I caught a glimpse of him in the tank. White, light hair, not sure about his height… he had jeans and something white on top. He looked human, besides the DNA found in the cigarette butts was 100 % human. But it was just a second, maybe less… and then he was outside, killing the stripper.”
She thought for a second, her hand reaching to her hair again out of habit. “He must have come outside, he couldn’t have shot her from inside the tank, not the right angle. But it was just too fast!”
“Yeah, super-fast,” agreed Galen, feeling the need for a cigarette at Alessa’s mention of them. He felt one out in his pocket and placed it between his lips while he lit up. “So, not a demon then,” he said, exhaling that first cloud of smoke, trying his best to direct it away from Alessa.
“But he definitely moved too fast to be natural, maybe he’s a black witch or something. When I was over in England there were a few who’d master this art that meant they could move really quickly, cell-speed-manipulation I think they called it. Could be worth checking out, maybe Ellis has some contacts amongst the local covens?”
“Probably. His company supplies most of them… I know they took some sensitives to the other places he hit, they searched for dimensional portals…”
“Dimensional portals, black magic, demonic activity… you name it.” Ellis appeared at their side, his square jaw hard with fury. He looked at Alessa for a second and his expression softened in a wry smile. Then he turned to Galen and stretched his hand. “Thank you for coming, Galen.”
“For all the good it did,” said Galen morosely, shaking Ellis’ hand, “I’d feel a whole lot better if we’d been able to catch this guy.”
“Join the club,” Ellis answered tensely. “I’ve been after this bastard for months now. Alessa’s right, we’ve tested most of everything.” He turned to her, amused by her aspect. It was strange that your girlfriend looked so… manly. “But at least this time we could anticipate him. Tell me what you saw,” he asked.
As Alessa and Galen made their recount, Ellis moved to the three bodies arranged near the now broken portholes. He squatted near one and raised the tablecloth they had used to cover them, discovering the feline face of the stripper. He looked at the corpse for a few seconds, searching for any tell-tale signs, and then stood up, sighing. Surely the bullets would be p40’s too. He walked round the stripper to uncover the other bodies. Ellis’ raising arm froze when he saw the Rinna. His hand trembled and his gaze caressed the demoness face and silver hair, now without any lustre, before he covered her quickly again and rose to his feet.
“Speed, huh?” He looked at Galen, turning away from the bodies and trying to sound natural. But Alessa heard tension in his tone, and not only because of frustration. She frowned and watched him more closely as he went on quickly. “I’ll talk to the company’s mages… maybe they overlooked something.”
Galen nodded, he too noticed the change in Ellis after he’d seen the Rinna demons but decided better than to ask – a man’s secrets were his own after all. “Do you want to…” he gestured to the bodies of the dead, “take care of things here, or I…” Galen scratched his head in bewilderment, “I actually have no idea, this isn’t exactly a case I can take to the county coroner.”
Ellis grimaced, refusing to look back at the corpses. “Unfortunately I'm used to this. There’s a crematorium in the company’s basement, my people are almost here. They’ll take the corpses there.”
“I need to talk to the owner… we need his permission anyway,” he said, and without another word he started to move towards the group of workers still gathered near the bar. There was a small woman cleaning the blood on the stage and another mopping what water was left from the pool. Things were getting back to normal, this joint would probably open to give another performance the following day. Ellis shook his head, *the show must go on,* he thought.
Alessa’s eyes followed Ellis and then returned to Galen’s. She didn’t know what to say at her lover’s brisk retreat. She smiled weakly, noticing the cop had lighted yet another cigarette. “I think I need another beer, what about you?”
Galen shook his head, “I think I’ve had enough,” he admitted, taking a draw on his freshly lit cigarette. “You were right about that before. Besides, I could do with a clear head right now and I don’t have your demonic constitution.”
The demoness smiled brightly at him. “A coffee then, and hush! There’s a demon hunter in town...” She immediately made a face, stealing a glance at the covered bodies. "Sorry, bad joke."
“This guy is one sick…” Galen held back his curse, biting down on the inside of his mouth instead. “So what do you think, is he just down right xenophobic or is there something more behind all this.” He glanced at Alessa briefly before letting his gaze survey the thinning staff of the Fish Tank.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve worked with my fair share of zealots, people who’d consider all supernaturals to be aberrant, even the human ones. But something about this guy’s MO, I’m not sure… maybe I just haven’t met enough rogue demon hunters before, it just seems strange that he’d target one specific group of demons integrated into human culture.”
“I haven’t either, fortunately. I was only half-joking, you know?” She said, arching a brow.
“There have always been people like this, but then… there are demon hunters and demon hunters.” Alessa felt she needed a beer after all, her mouth felt pasty. Although she was feeling nauseous too. “This one... it’s not that he’s targeted on strippers or anything, he’s been killing all types of demons. What they have in common? They are safe. Risk-free. None of these girls fought back, neither the mill workers he killed last fortnight, or the seamstresses of months ago.” Alessa’s eyes shone red in her dark skinned masculine face. “I wish he tried the same with me.”
“Don’t you start as well,” warned Galen seriously, “I mean it Alessa, I am sick of everyone wanting to make a goddamn martyr out of themselves. If it’s not you it’s Tash or Victor or Sorrow or Daye or, or, or…”
Galen stubbed out his cigarette harshly, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “No false heroics, okay?” he said after a long pause, his voice calmer now after his outburst. “That’s why you came to me about the White Hats, we’re in this fight together, I don’t want you doing anything… stupid. There aren’t many of us left anymore.”
Alessa lowered her eyes, and sighed. Galen was right, as much as she wanted to get that killer, she couldn’t face him alone. She wouldn’t have stood a chance tonight if she had been the one on stage. Things had passed too quickly, demasiado rápido!. They needed to know more, be better prepared, and even then she shouldn’t face him alone. That’s what friends were for.
“You’re right.” She messed her hair, short or not, and smiled at him. Galen looked tired and disillusioned, and a little… frantic. She could relate with him, and the least thing she wanted was to worry him more. The White Hats were her anchor too. “No false heroics. It’s a deal.”
Galen smiled in relief, the last thing he needed was to have to worry about Alessa dashing into the fray, her head full of vengeance and getting herself killed. It had happened too often recently.
“I’m not too sure how much more we can do here,” he admitted as he surveyed the now almost deserted club. “I did a sweep of the area, found a few things that hopefully, once Ellis’ lab guys have analysed them, might give us a better idea of what we’re up against.”
Galen settled his eyes on Ellis, he looked fraught and tense as he continued to talk to the manager. “Is he okay?” he asked Alessa, “he seemed a bit… I don’t know, unsettled perhaps? Seemed like it was a bit more than just failing to catch this perp, but I didn’t want to ask.”
Alessa bit her lip, a very feminine gesture, completely strange in her male form. She watched Ellis herself, all his body signals shouting red.
“I don’t know, he’s been awfully vexed about this hunter, but… well, I’ve never seen him like this before...” She looked at Galen again, thinking how much to tell. “Ellis and I… there’s a lot we haven’t said yet.”
“Well… things have been complicated,” said Galen tactfully, “especially this past year.” Kate had talked to him a few times about Alessa and Ellis, about the impact Hyde had made, and then with Chance’s return… things didn’t appear to have been easy on the couple.
“Yeah,” Alessa said pensively, her gaze returning to Ellis for a second. He was turning back to them. She smiled at him and was relieved to see him smile back, albeit a little distracted. She turned to the cop and smiled again, “I guess it’s in our hands to get things better.”
She stood up when Ellis started to walk their way.
“We have the manager’s green light,” he said as he got to them. He sounded more relaxed, but he was still talking briskly. He took Alessa’s hand, oblivious of her form. “This is going to take a while yet, there’s no need you stay more. Either of you,” he added, looking at Galen. “I really appreciate this, Galen.”
Alessa didn’t really want to leave, and she opened her mouth to protest, just to close it again. He was still tense, he probably needed some time alone. Besides she had come with Galen, she should leave with him. She nodded at last.
“Sure. I’ll wait up for you, and I can’t wait to take these clothes off-” She blushed, realizing what she had said, and turned to Galen. “I mean- return them to his rightful owner…”
Galen chuckled and wrapped an arm around Alessa’s manly shoulders, leading her towards the exit. At the last he turned to Ellis and grinned. “You lucky dog.”
“You bet,” he said, watching the couple leave the club.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday, October 6th, 2007
Time and place unknown
“Have to ge…. Cats gone crazy at the door! Door knobs frozen…. Chickens….” Reah tossed her head on the pillow frowning, suddenly smirking, frowning again as she muttered in her sleep. “Don’t like peas…. No!”
A floorboard creaked. Eyes shut, Reah’s eyebrows rose, head weakly searching from its rested position. “Mhello?” A hand suddenly rested on her forehead, pressing her back gently.
“Shh, shh….” The hand brushed some hair from her forehead, soon replaced by a tender kiss. Reah smiled lazily.
“Dre’an?”
There was a sigh. “No Reah, it’s not Dre’an.” A familiar girl’s voice spoke tiredly. Quin?
Reah mumbled something else beyond understanding, then, “He’s gone to get the chickens?” Was that chuckling she heard?
“Yes, Reah. Dre’an’s gone down the street to get chickens from the supermarket.”
“The door!”
There was a silence for a moment. “It’s OK, Reah. It’s not frozen anymore. I used my super heat-ray gun to defrost it.” Was the voice mirthful?
“Mmgood, good…. Have to…” Reah frowned, a painful expression, “Have to apologise. Have to….”
Slowly she drifted back into a deeper sleep.
*** FLASHBACK ***
Wednesday, July 25th, 2007 – 09:36am
1318 Poplar Avenue
Reah’s apartment
The sun was already high and well into the morning by the time Reah finally strolled haphazardly into the apartment, sticky, black goop leaving a small trail where her feet trudged and dripping from her fingers. Slumping herself heavily onto the couch, she let out a groan. In the morning she might have a care for the ruin she’d just submitted her couch to, but at the time being, she only smothered her face in her left hand.
She hated this world. You really couldn’t win in it. You could try so hard to will your life into some semblance of normalcy, but the cold harsh reality just shatters it to a million jagged pieces before you even have the chance to catch a single shard for comfort. All of it, the past, present and future; no matter where Reah existed in time, she would never escape this nightmare called life. Dusting Tash had been an unfriendly reminder. Another slap in the face. The only satisfaction she got was the comforting fact that a demon was no longer raping her old friend’s body.
“Hrmph…!” Reah snorted, *Comforting.* She shook her head dismay then pushed herself up to wonder aimlessly about her home.
Picking up a rogue stake that was laying outside the bathroom door, she couldn’t help but feel some strange sensation niggling at the edge of her mind. There was something out of place she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Reah scrunched up her face in disturbance and hefted the stake in her hand. *Think, Reah, think.*
When she opened her eyes she found herself gazing at Sam’s old room. She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly overcome with a sense of longing. She missed the old days and the mess. Her feet started carrying her towards the door, but when she reached to take hold of the handle, Reah hesitated, then quickly jerked it back. No. She wasn’t going to torment herself with things of the past anymore.
She needed a shower. A shower would be good. Raising a hand to run it through her matted hair, she sneered. A shower would be very good.
A knock at the door seized her attention, and with a frown, Reah recalculated her plans and strode grudgingly towards the front door, pulling it open.
“Hello?”
“Hiya!” Greeted a tall lanky fellow with such irritating chipper in some ridiculous navy cap. He was holding something in his hands beneath a clipboard and pen. “I have a delivery for a Ms. Quinala Kossinton.”
Reah frowned at the man, shaking her head. This was weird. “I’m sorry, but it’s just me who lives here. Are you sure that’s not for Reanna? I do have a cousin called Quin, but I haven’t seen her in years and I’m pretty sure she still lives in Australia.”
The man pursed his lips and frowned. “Hm…. Well sorry about that, but it’s addressed to Quinala. Would you like to forward it on to her?”
*Yes please! I love paying fees I didn’t ask for.* Reah sniffed, “Hows about I just give you the address and you can forward it on yourself.”
“Well alrighty then!”
Suppressing urges to forward a punch into his nose, Reah retreated into the apartment again to return with her address book.
“Well, thanks a bunch! You have a good night now!” As he turned to go with that plastered grin, Reah caught a sudden wincing of his nose before the door blocked him from sight and remembered what she must look like. And smell! - she added ruefully as an afterthought, and continued on to the shower.
Water crashed down on her head and she closed her eyes to the feel of it cascading down her body, turning slowly and adjusting the nozzle, a powerful burst of water streaked out, delving into her back and loosening tightened muscles. As she let out another relieved moan as a knot in her right shoulder finally released, Reah was suddenly overcome with the feeling of another presence.
Twisting with a frown to peer through steam and fogging glass, she found the hazy form of her unexpected company, their clothes dropped in a neat pile beside her own. Shock and fury were quickly replaced by something else she had never expected to feel. Certainly not on a day such as this.
Beneath the showers forgotten pelt, bodies lashed together with an unrestrained passion, losing themselves completely.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday, October 6th, 2007 – Sunset
Location Unknown
Eyes closed, Quin sat cross legged on an old tree stump at the back of the cottage, looking down over a vast forested land. Her head tilted toward the long strands of her hair that played softly on the cool summer breeze.
The sun sat just short of the horizon now, not long at all till nightfall, but Quin opened her eyes resolutely and glanced down at the handmade journal, closed and empty in her lap. A pen clasped weakly in her right hand with little will to hold on, she let out a lowly sigh and firmed herself. No more running. No more hiding.
*** FLASHBACK***
Wednesday, July 25th, 2007 – 21:42
An LA Penthouse
Quin’s silken skirts twisted askew about her hips beneath tall drapes that hung from the high ceiling penthouse bedroom. She’d been laying like this ever since her master had left her however many hours ago now, she couldn’t say.
Her mind was a void, dead to the world about her. She’d given up. Thinking had only nursed hopeful thoughts that someone would come and rescue her. Reah would, she had been sure. However, over a week gone now and still no sign. And with her last encounter with Balthas…. It was evident that non was to arise.
***
“I hate you.” Quin spat, refusing to meet his gaze.
There was a patient sigh followed by a soft clicking of his tongue. “My dearest Quinala, I have only ever had your best interests in mind. Tis not my fault, the consequences of your actions.” His voice suddenly hardened. “You should have never run away.”
Quin clenched her eyes shut to hold back the tears. “You have no right to…”
“To what, Quinala?” Balthas had an unfathomable cool to his voice whenever he spoke. “I have every right. I own you, and you very well know that. Your entire family is indebt to me.” He paused, a musing grin peeling across that striking face of his. “That cousin of your’s, Reanna…” he sniffed in amusement, “She’s quite the intriguing one, indeed.”
“Stay away from Reah.” Quin surprised herself by the harshness of her voice. “You have no business with her.”
Balthas chuckled, a sickly grin spreading across his features as he reached out and firmly ushered Quin’s gaze to meet his. “Dearest Quinala, she is as much mine as you are. In fact,” he smiled, eyes distant and thoughtful, “She is mine in more ways than one. She just needs time before I can properly break her.”
Quin’s eyes were wide with horror and disgust. “You sick bastard,” she heard herself say, shaking her head in dismay. *How could Reah…?*
Balthas laughed, and shook his own head at Quin as you would an ignorant child. “I was not referring to my relations with her, though I will not deny it. She’s quite talented actually…. A spirited indeed,” he mused once more, drawing the line of his jaw appreciatively. “But no. I was referring not only to the decent of her father’s, but her mother’s too. I’m utterly… infatuated by her.”
Quin wanted to shrink away, he was really beginning to scare her now, and to hear this of Reah…. “She wont,” Quin finally managed, “She’s… she’s too strong. Too good for you. She can’t!”
Eyes closed, Balthas slowly turned his head back around and opened to peer at her smugly. “Dearest Quinala. Do not think that my love for you has dissipated for recent relations with Reanna, because it hasn’t. There is no need for this. You are currently of less concern to me, that is all.” He smiled his most sympathetic smile.
“Reah will-”
“Reanna will do nothing but what I wish her to do.” Balthas firmly instated, then recovered his smile. “You think highly of her, and I can understand that. She is a remarkable woman.” He paused. “But at the end of the day, she is as weak minded as the rest of your sorry family where she currently believes you to still be residing. In Melbourne.”
Balthas’ eyes flashed over black and Quin staggered from his grasp, blindly toppling backwards onto the bed where she then tried scurrying as far away as possible as she watched his figure melt into a dark cloud of smoke.
Empty and silent, Quin took a ragged breath of air and swallowed hard, eyes fervently searching about the room when he was suddenly upon on her. Out of thin air his arms thrust either side of her shoulders, locking her in place with his knees clenched at her thighs. Quin shrunk from his menacing black gaze, her body quivering with the powerful magics even she could feel enveloping the spirit as he languidly arched his back in a stretch, groin pressing firmly against her till he relaxed and leant in close to her ear, whispering.
“Would you like to be enlightened of the consequences eventuating from your reckless flight?” His voice was soft, but commanding and Quin meekly shook her head, tears prickling her eyes. “Oh, but I think you should….”
Trembling, Quin wept for her family.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
******FLASHBACK*****
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Sunday, 5th August 2007
10:22am Local Time
Starring Matthew MacFadyen as Doctor Alexander Baxter
Kate clamped her hands tightly over her ears, her screams rising in an anxious bid to shut out the noise. The sound was deafening, a thousand, million voices, thoughts, emotions all pressing in on her, raging inside her head relentlessly. Every fibre of her body resonated with the sound, like the flutter of wings and the warble of birdsong. Kate moaned with the pain of it, screwing her eyes up tightly.
Her other prison, the small 12x12 foot padded room that contained her physically, forcing her to endure such an invasion, seemed to crowd in on her also. Kate had been here days now and her body ached with deprivation. She needed the sun and the air, she needed to feel the rain on her skin and the earth beneath her feet. This manufactured, sterile environment, it smothered and suffocated, draining every ounce of her spirit.
Kate shuffled herself across padded surface of the floor, the material soft and resistant against her bare feet as she pressed her back further against the cushioned wall. If she could occupy the smallest, tiniest space then maybe… maybe it would all stop. The voices, the whispering relentless voices that filled every corner of her consciousness might suddenly grow quiet and the thready ache that pulsed inside her blood, tingling between her fingers might still.
“Galen…” she moaned quietly, futile tears rolling down her cheeks. “Galen… please…”
From the opposite side of a two-way glass, Elliot Zimmerman thoughtfully observed the girl’s distress. It had been several days now since the final dose of Serum Ex-32 had been administered and she was still going through ‘the transition’.
“Professor?” came a soft, quietly spoken voice from the direction of the door as it was pushed open. An earnest, studious looking man entered the room, weighted down beneath a stack of files – Dr Alexander Baxter, the Ministry’s foremost expert in identity re-engineering.
“Dr Baxter,” smiled Elliot courteously, “I see you’ve been catching up on the briefing notes? I like to see such enthusiasm, it bodes well for our future relations.”
“Well, thank-you sir…” began Alex, struggling to keep hold of all his files as he freed up his hand to shake that of the Professor. He had to admit to being more than a little awe struck, the man was a legend, an enigma and incredibly powerful within the organisation. “I do my best, Sir. I’d like to thank-you for this tremendous opportunity, it really is an honour to be working with you Sir-“
“Yes, yes, well enough of all that,” ordered Elliot briskly, a certain amount of adulation was to be expected, but he’d rather skip it and cut to the chase. “I asked for you because your record is exemplary, simply exemplary Dr. Baxter. Top of your year at Cambridge, head of the debating team… Your file says that you’re a doctor of medicine?”
“I am Sir-” began Alex but was again cut off abruptly.
“-Good, good, we’ve been sorely lacking someone of your skills and expertise.” Elliot gestured towards the holding cell and its occupant.
“Subject 1312,” said Alex as he peered inside the room. The red haired woman looked frantic and wild, rolling against the padded walls with marked anxiety with her hands pressed firmly against her ears. “She is in the transition stage,” he remarked, “what are her mana levels like?”
“High,” smiled Elliot, “but… unstable. I need you to monitor her condition.”
“I thought she already had a physician,” Alex queried, flipping through some of his papers until he found the right one. “A… Dr Lennon?”
“Yes… Dr Lennon,” said Elliot contemplatively, “lets just say that recently the good doctor Lennon has displayed a rather unhealthy interest in her patient, some might even call it unorthodox. I determined that a little distance might be beneficial. I’m sure you understand how these situations are, the relationship between doctor and patient must be preserved for the benefit of all involved. Especially in these kinds of situations.”
Alex frowned, looking back at the redhead through the glass as she hit her head repeatedly against the cushioned wall before sliding to the ground in defeat, tears still rolling down her cheeks as she wept. “I heard that she tried to break in here and free Subject 1312.”
“Indeed, though there was never any real threat, after all, where would she take her? We’re not exactly conveniently located.”
Alex grinned, “I had to take three flights and a helicopter ride to get here and that was only because the winds had died down, otherwise it would have been a four hour sleigh ride from the nearest airfield.”
“Precisely my point. Doctor Lennon had a momentarily crisis of conscience, that is all. However it is dealt with and none of your concern now. What should concern you is the emotional state of your patient,” Elliot gestured towards the treatment room, “if you would doctor…”
Alex nodded though his hand trembled momentarily as he swiped his card-key through the door lock and stepped inside. This was the most important moment of his entire career and he had to make a good impression or else it’d be back to hypnotising demon dogs at HQ for another year. Squinting against the brightness of the over-head fluorescent lighting, Alex observed the woman, Subject 1312 as she huddled against the farthest corner, her hands still pressed against her ears.
Hesitantly, he took several steps towards her, offering out his hand. “Hello I… I’m Dr Baxter, Alex… well Alexander, Alexander Baxter.” He cringed inwardly at his inept introduction but forced himself to continue. “I’m going to be your physician…”
Kate sucked at the air through her gritted teeth, pressing herself further into the corner of the room. Slowly she forced her eyes open, staring at the young man as though he might strike her down at any moment. It had been a long time since she’d been allowed human contact and she was amazed at how alive her powers felt. She could hear his every thought as it reverberated inside his head, not just the loud thoughts but the deeper, more hidden aspects that he perhaps was not even aware of himself. Not only that but she could feel his fluctuating emotions, his anxiety was palpable as was his growing nervousness.
“You…” she whimpered, “you’re so scared you’re going to do something wrong. This is your first assignment isn’t it?”
Alex looked shocked at first then realised he must have given so much away by his nervous greeting. “Yes it is I’m…”
“From The Ministry’s Headquarters in London yes I know.” Kate gingerly forced her hands down from her ears, feeling some sense of relief flood her body. Being so close to another human she was able to centre and focus her powers onto him, allowing her to block out all the other background noise that had been littering her mind.
“You’re new to all this aren’t you? The supernatural I mean.”
Alex smiled awkwardly, setting his files down on the floor. “I’d like to think that I pick things up pretty quickly, besides, I’ve been working for the Ministry for the past three years.”
“A whole three years? That makes you quite the expert doesn’t it… Alex?”
Alex opened his mouth to reply but then clamped it shut. There was something in the woman’s tone that set him on edge, a kind of barely controlled note of frenzy. Considering what he’d read about her so far that was unsurprising, she’d undergone extensive testing followed by the malefactum engineering and now this enforced confinement. It was bound to have some effect on her nerves, being a supernatural she thrived on her connection with nature – something that had been deliberately withheld since her removal from Los Angeles.
“Well I should be getting on with my tests.”
“And what tests might those be?” Kate spat viciously, pushing herself up from the floor, her dark blue eyes probing the young man, uncovering his every thought.
“Just routine, a… a check up.”
Kate took a tentative step towards him, her legs were weak from being strapped down in the lab for so long and so she held on to the padded wall for support. “You haven’t practised medicine in a long time have you Alex? Not since that woman died on your operating table. That’s a shame, your father always wanted you to be a doctor… just like your brothers…”
Alex’s eyes opened wide, it was impossible that she could know such things unless this woman was… “You’re a telepath aren’t you?”
Kate frowned slightly, “Oh,” she said in realisation, “you didn’t get time to read my file, you were too busy… you don’t like flying too much but… this project is a great opportunity for you, so long as you don’t mess up.”
“S-stop it.”
“When that woman died… you blamed yourself. You had to tell her twelve-year-old son that his mother was dead, you still remember the look on that boy’s face, in his eyes. He blamed you and so you blamed yourself too.” Kate narrowed her eyes slightly, “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done to save her and it seems a shame, to throw away such talent because of one incident…”
Alex looked angry now; he grabbed hold of Kate and shook her hard. “Shut up! Shut up!”
Kate cried out, unprepared for what she might feel as he touched her. She collapsed in his grip, supported only by his hold on her as she cried out in pain and suffering. The sudden rush of emotions and thoughts seemed to crash in on all sides of her mind, crushing and contracting until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe…
Alex let go of her as though he’d just been burned. Kate continued to cry and sob in a heap on the floor, clutching her head painfully as Alex quickly exited the room and pulled the door close.
“Hmm, interesting response.”
Alex turned on the Professor with a mixture of anger and bewilderment. “’Interesting Response’? You mean you knew she’d react like that? What, was this some kind of test?”
Zimmerman sighed, “My dear boy you have a lot to learn. Subject 1312 has undergone extensive malefactum engineering and the readouts have been encouraging, we just haven’t had a chance to expose her to a live subject before. You would know such information if you had read her file…”
Alex took a few deep breaths while composing himself. He knew Zimmerman’s methods to be unorthodox and it would do little for his career aspirations to slight a man of such power and influence. “That’s as may be Sir,” he said, struggling to regain control of his breathing, “but in the future I would appreciate if you would inform me of any such situations beforehand.”
“She got under your skin huh?” Zimmerman’s eyes gleamed momentarily.
“She read my mind,” said Alex, still trembling from the ordeal, “I mean she read it as simple as reading an open book, she saw things… things I’ve never told anyone, she drew them out of me it-“ he paused, taking another deep breath in an attempt to steady his nerves. “It was like she was in my head.”
Elliot smiled. “I know, impressive isn’t it?”
“Dangerous…” said Alex, his face quite pale, “you know what this could do to her? Covens have always helped clairvoyants build mental barricades for good reason, if she isn’t taught how to control her powers they could drive her mad.”
“You think I’m not aware of this? But look at the power she has! It’s worth the risk, the value that she has to the organisation… no wonder Sindell kept her under such close guard.” Zimmerman smiled again as he returned his attention to the witch. When he spoke again his voice was quiet with an undertow of menace.
“Just one thing, Doctor. You so much as lay one finger on her again and it’ll be the last thing you do. Understand?”
Alex nodded, also returning his focus to the girl, who sat curled up in a ball in a corner of the room again. He could see now why his predecessor had suffered a crisis of conscience, what the Professor was doing to this girl was more than just unorthodox, it verged on the diabolical.
“I understand, Sir.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
October 7th, 2007
Longwood States
7:35 am
Alessa sleeping looked like an angel. Ellis figured he could watch her the rest of his life. He reached out with tentative fingers to gently stroke her forehead. He hadn't even made contact when her eyes sleepily opened and she stretched on the sofa.
She woke with the sun shining on her face through the sheer draperies at the living room French windows, feeling stiff from sleeping in the sofa. *Sun?* she closed her eyes, and then snapped them open again, finally focusing on the face leaning over her.
“Ellis!” she almost shouted, and she sat up promptly and combed her sleep-messy hair with her fingers. She was still drowsy from sleep. “What time is it? What happened?”
"Morning," he said softly and finished the movement to trace her hairline, down past her ear and to her jaw. She closed her eyes and leaned onto it slightly.
*Morning already?* she wondered. She had been waiting for him all night, she remembered watching the sky tinting pink before giving in to sleep. “What happened?” she repeated, opening her eyes again.
"Breakfast?" he answered instead, shifting away from her. For a moment, he felt the top of her head rest against his hand again, then she nodded.
"Sure," she said, and inwardly she sighed, standing up to follow him to the ample kitchen. There was no sign of Donny’s yet. She sat down in a sunny spot and watched Ellis move around the room. He wasn’t as tense as he had been the night before, but he wasn’t his usual self anyway. She raised her legs to another chair and stretched again, rubbing her neck. She did feel stiff. And intrigued.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?”
Ellis was taking the coffee jar out of the machine and almost burned himself when he heard her words. He turned around and gave her an odd look.
"I’m sorry?" He shook his head, confused.
"There wasn’t that much work at the Tank to keep you all night. Besides, you smell to graveyard and vampire dust." She watched him avoid her eyes, pouring coffee as she spoke. “What about not patrolling alone?”
”I wasn’t alone,” Ellis answered as he poured a second cup.
"Liar," she said, searching the darkening blue depths for the truth. “Something happened last night, I know. Please tell me, mi amor”
Ellis leaned on his hip against the counter top for a second and then smiled at her anxious face. She was worried, he could sense it. And curious. He sighed then, it wasn’t such a big deal after all.
“Ok,” he said, finally sitting in front of her and sliding the second mug of coffee across the table to her.
“It’s just that when I saw those Rinnas at the club, well… they stroke a chord.” The demoness just looked at him and kept sipping her coffee. “You won’t be content with only that, will you?”
Alessa shook her dark head in denial, her curls performing a dance around her face and her eyes smiling over the rim of her mug. Ellis couldn’t help but smile himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her, just that talking about Ling was… painful, to say the least.
“Have I told you about Ling?” he asked, knowing he had. But he hadn’t said everything there was to say.
“Of course,” Alessa answered, thinking about what he’d said about the dead woman. “She was your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well… she was a little more than that.” Ellis massaged the bridge of his nose. “We were going to marry, she was having my baby too…”
Alessa bit her lip, and extended her hand over the table taking his and squeezed hard. She felt a pang of jealousy for the woman Ellis had loved so much – and who could have given him a child… a roaring sound grew in her ears as if someone were holding seashells over them, but she kept the pressure on his hand and waited for him to go on. She was still puzzled about the relationship between the dead woman and the events of last night.
“I never told you how she died, either. She was killed by a demon hunter.” Ellis almost spat the words, the old rage throbbing through him as brand new. "She and my child..."
Alessa shook her head, even more confused. “Pero…”
“Ling was a Rinna, Alessa.” Ellis explained. He stood up and walked to the window, the mug of coffee still in his hands. He raised it to his lips before talking again and Alessa could see his hand shaking. “Ling was the reason I started the Demon Police.”
"I'm sorry…” Alessa’s voice trailed off quietly, as everything fall into place. She watched Ellis slowly drank his coffee, his back still turned to her. He shrugged, and she felt her heart shrink. She got up and walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his back.
Ellis froze for a second. A part of him wanted to pull away. Instead he let himself relax onto the warmth of her, he covered her hands and held them gently and accepting against his waist. Ellis closed his eyes and allowed her emotions to down on him. With Alessa’s hands about him the memory of Ling and the pain and rage at her meaningless death seemed to subside.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, a little shaky herself for a second till he accepted her embrace. She felt as if she had suddenly stepped on quicksand. There was so much she didn’t know about this man, that it kept surprising her. She unwound when she felt him relax against her, forcing doubts from her mind. It wouldn’t do to feel threatened by the memories of a dead woman.
For the longest time they stayed like that, not letting go. In the end it was Alessa, unable to stand it any longer, who slipped under his arm and looked up at him, her eyes large and luminous.
“I won’t leave you, I’m not her,” she said. She could understand now his fierce protectiveness and zealous nature, but she wasn’t defenceless. She wasn’t about to let herself be killed by an ruthless demon hunter.
“I know,” he answered, his hand brushing a wilful dark curl from her forehead. Alessa wasn’t Ling. Ling had been a frail creature, with the mildness and softness of oriental women. So much unlike the Verbati. Alessa was soft and a little naïve too, even after all she’d lived, but strong. She was passionate, mercurial and stubborn as hell; she challenged and questioned him at every moment. Alessa would fight to the end. There had never been two more different women, and yet, he loved them both.
Slowly, their eyes met and the demoness reached up to touch his cheek, then she rose to her toe tips and caught his lips, her kiss a declaration of sorrow, but most of all love and confidence. Out of breath, they pulled apart, their lips still lingering on each other's.
"More... coffee?" He blurted out, unsure of what to say.
"Of course," Alessa smiled broadly. "Just later." She added as kissed him again.
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
Sunday Oct 6, 2007 Evening
2021 HILLHURST AVE # 9
LOS ANGELES
The woman in black leather walked down the back stairs of the condo and out to the storage box near the street. She whispered to the lock as she turned the key with the gemstone head making it glow momentarily before opening.
A Mazda Miata pulled up to the curb as she wheeled out the Kawasaki Vulcan 1600. A low whistle of appreciation came from the sport-car driver as he eyed both the bike and the woman. She smiled at him from beneath pitch-black sunglasses as she pulled a light-weight skid-lid over her blue-black hair.
"What's going on tonight, Zayn? Hot date? I'm up for it if you'd just give me a chance to change my shirt." The man said as he slithered out of the car and towards the object of his desire.
"Tom," she said playfully, "You'd have to change a lot more than your shirt. Besides, I'm busy tonight."
Tom looked offended, "What is so important that you go out every night dressed like Batgirl all alone and come back at the crack of dawn. If it isn't a party, what is it?"
The woman lifted her glasses and fixed Tom in a cold gaze with pupilless golden orbs. "I'm going hunting, Tom. And you are sniffing around the wrong bitch."
Tom held up two hands that despite his macho bearing were trembling slightly. "Sooory" he said backing up as she roared off. "Dyke," Tom said to her back too low for her to hear. He hoped.
Some Unnamed Alleyway
The smell was a strange mixture of unwashed homeless and cat-piss and there was no place to go except straight through to the far end of the street. Blue dumpsters with unidentifiable spray-paint tags on them and piles of rags sitting in puddles of unnamable liquid lined the paved place that was so unwanted it had never been granted a name.
And yet, in this place was life. Not just the toxic microorganisms that shared this place but a higher order of life known universally as a waitress. She was running through the alleyway hoping to reach the far end. She was regretting her choice of flip-flops over more sensible flats as she whimpered and ran making a silly flip-flap-flip-flap noise.
Behind her was a fanged horror that until a few moments ago she had been certain existed only in the bedrooms of Goths or late-night television. Before it had been trying to attack her it had been sitting in the diner and hitting on her. She had indulged it no further than any other customer (a good tip is a good tip), until at the end of her shift it had stepped out of the shadows near the bus stop.
The blast of pepper spray had allowed her this much of a lead. But that lead was rapidly disappearing in this accursed alley. The beast leapt and closed the gap as it drove her into the street ripping her knees and palms open as she slid to a halt. The creature leaned down and whispered in a strange lisp over its hideous teeth, "You should have just played the game, darling. I'd have just bit you and it would have been a lot easer for both of us. Now, now I gotta get dirty."
He twisted her arm painfully and licked the blood running down her wrist while sitting on her back. The creature grabbed her hair and pulled her head back to expose her neck and a bright light shone from the entrance to the alley illuminating them both.
A motorcycle zoomed past and the waitress gasped as the weight on her back disappeared along with a handful of her hair. Scrambling, crying and screaming she rolled to one side and cowered as she saw a leather-clad woman with a long dark ponytail and sunglasses kicking her assailant around the alleyway.
The two of them sparred a few blows then the woman grabbed the vampire (for that was the only word the waitress could summon from her fear to call it) and twisted its arm, drove its head into the pavement and stood on its neck. "Come here!" the woman in black ordered.
"M-m-e?" the waitress said.
"Do you see anyone else dancing in this alleyway?" the woman said sarcastically, "Come here and get this guy's wallet."
The waitress walked over and pulled the wallet free from the man's jeans. The leather-woman grunted with the effort of holding the vampire down as she directed the waitress to remove his watch, rings, and pocket-change and pile them next to her bike.
Once that was done, the woman in black pulled a wooden stake from her boot and plunged it into the back of the man. The man sighed as an internal flame burned him instantly in place leaving nothing but rapidly dissipating dust.
"You have to strip them of valuables first otherwise it all turns to dust when you stake them," the woman said pocketing the cash, wallet and jewelry. The waitress nodded mutely.
The other woman walked up next to her and put her arms around the waitress. The waitress collapsed into her strong embrace until she heard the sounds of things dropping on the pavement. "Brush, lipstick, ah, here's the cash. Oh, nice. Good tips tonight?"
"What the fuck?" the waitress said shoving away from her rescuer-turned-robber.
"A girl has to make a living," the woman apologized, "How much is your life really worth? Give me the cash and I won't drive this motorcycle over your body and write this whole experience off as a bad investment of my time."
The waitress flung her handbag angrily at the woman who caught it easily and smiled back at her. "That’s a good decision. Believe me. Just to show you I'm not all bad, here's five buck for the bus."
"Keep it shitbox. I'd rather get a ride from a rapist," the waitress said as she stormed off.
"Suit yourself," Zayn said to nobody in particular, "It's five more for me."
Understanding
******FLASHBACK*****
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Tuesday, 14th August 2007
8:12am Local Time
Reintroducing Sam Neil as Professor Elliot Zimmerman
“There are others?”
Elliot nodded. “Twelve in total, three more here and the rest in another two similar facilities overseas.”
“Is there really a need for so many, or are you just edging your bets?” Her lip curled in a sneer. “In case a few don’t make it through all these tests of yours.”
Elliot smiled in amusement, rising to his feet. He strolled across to the two-way mirror, knowing that the young Doctor Baxter was on the other side of the glass, observing every detail of their discourse.
“Such bitterness is unbecoming in a young woman, Kate.”
“So is being held against my will!” declared Kate fiercely, her eyes burning with malice. She leapt to her feet also, yet kept her back pressed firmly against the padded wall. All the while she watched the Professor, her face a rigid mask of hate. “They’re going to die, aren’t they? These others… the other girls?”
Elliot smiled again. “You’re learning fast.”
“Just tell me!”
“But it’s so much more fun this way.”
Kate focused her eyes upon him; weeks of confinement had enabled her to finally regain control of her telepathy – just short of losing her mind. Things were still very different; her senses had heightened to a degree that, rather than spend long minutes probing the inner depths of the human mind in the hope of catching a fleeting image or feeling, she could snatch thoughts from the air as easily as if they were all laid out in a row. That didn’t necessarily make the entire process any simpler though, if anything it made it more difficult to distinguish where such thoughts were coming from and their context.
Tilting her head, Kate caught a glimpse of a scene, wild snowy planes and a cold so deep it chilled the bones through to the marrow. The future. That was another thing, Kate had never had such vivid premonitions in a wakeful state, and certainly not without being sent into an unbearable agony for hours afterwards. Now the flashes came and left with the slightest gesture. She could control them for the first time in her life.
“Another test?”
“Of course.” Elliot turned back to the mirror, gazing at Kate’s reflection as she stood behind him. “The final test. All of you are undergoing the same… changes, I of course am placing my bets on you to win.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed coldly. “What makes you think I’d take part in anything of the sort? You want to pitch witches against each other then find another to place your bets on.” She shook her head. “I won’t do it, I might have killed once but that was self-defence, I don’t intend doing it again merely for your amusement.”
“It is hardly amusing to me, dear girl,” said Elliot with a sigh, “I hate to see waste and in my opinion that’s what this exercise will ultimately be – a waste of talent and willing, or in your case, perhaps not so willing flesh. Some of your opponents have been witches in my care for years, do you really think I want to see their lives cut short?”
“Then why do it?”
“Because it is the way it is done!” snapped Elliot briskly, turning back to face her. “It is the way it has always been done. A fight, to the death. That may seem overly dramatic but nothing compares to the feel of warm blood on your hands, nor plunging your fingers into your enemy’s still writhing chest and taking hold of their beating heart.”
“You disgust me,” said Kate simply, “all of you disgust me. You bring me here against my will, tearing me from the arms of my loved ones, imprison me, subject me to the grossest invasions imaginable… all under the pretence of some greater good? I have gone along with you so far because I had no choice, despite your lies I am your prisoner here. But it ends now, you’ve given me the power to finally fight back.”
Elliot resisted the urge to smile. “Whatever could you mean?”
Kate took a step forward, despite her confidence and proficiency she still felt somehow unnerved around this man. It was like the child who finally grows strong enough to put up a fight against a brutish father – only to find himself frozen with fear at the prospect – years of respectful obedience bubbling to the surface. Kate did not know Elliot Zimmerman so well, but she had the feeling that he knew her a great deal – the end result was the same. Kate was unnerved and fearful to act.
“I’m more powerful than you, you said that once before. If you want a killer so badly, what makes you think that I wouldn’t start with you?”
“I don’t want a killer,” said Elliot, barely masking another sigh. “But fear of death is your biggest flaw. It’s not your fault, I know, those amateurs at Sindell had no idea. They saw your power and were afraid, scared of what you might become; they did the same with your mother too. Turned her from a young, promising neophyte into a dull, washed-up practitioner. Thank god I was able to intervene in your case.”
“I hardly know how to thank you.”
“There’s that bitterness again, Kate,” scolded Elliot, “I’m sure that’s not what your charming husband fell in love with now, was it?”
Kate took another step forward, more determined this time, her entire posture rigid. “I’ve told you before, leave Galen out of this.”
“Weakness again, Kate,” sighed Elliot, shaking his head in dismay, “I could teach you magics you’ve only dreamed of owning, but what is the point when all a potential enemy has to do is point at that man and threaten his existence?”
Kate clenched her fists tightly. “If I find out you’ve hurt him-“
“And why would I do that? He’s my insurance policy after all. So long as Galen Eldridge walks this earth you’re mine. We both know, that the only reason you haven’t eviscerated my very being is because I hold the life of your dearest in the palm of my hand. Turn on me and I’ll make sure that they fall with me.”
An incantation flew so quickly from Kate’s lips that it was barely audible. Her fingertips glowed with purple energy and in one swift move she took aim and shot out a bolt of paralysing energy at the man.
Elliot stumbled to his knees with a groan, but through his pain erupted laughter, a glee filled laughter that brought a glow to his eyes. “Oh you’re learning,” he laughed as Kate fired another bolt of the energy at him. “I finally think we’re understanding one another.”
Suddenly the doors flew open and several white coats burst into the room. Kate barely had time to invoke a protection spell before she was slammed roughly against the nearest wall, her limbs pinned down as two others helped the Professor up to his feet and out the room.
“I won’t do it!” screamed Kate madly, her face still pressed against the wall. “I won’t! You may as well let me go!”
Just as suddenly as she was restrained, Kate felt herself released, the inner door to her room banging shut with a metallic clang. Kate whirled around, throwing herself upon the mirror – she knew there was someone behind there, someone watching… always watching.
“Touch my family, lay one finger on them Elliot,” she screamed, pounding her fists against the reinforced glass so hard that it made it shudder under the strain, “and I promise you, I promise I’ll show you how goddamn well we understand each other! Can you hear me? Elliot!!”
When Good Plans Go Bad
******FLASHBACK*****
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Monday, 20th August 2007
10:30pm Local Time
Kate rolled her head drowsily, fighting against the effects of the sedative. She closed her eyes tight and opened them again, trying to clear her vision - still the brilliant fluorescent light of the lab swirled around her head, reflecting off the various metal surfaces and fading every time one of the lab technicians passed between her and the source.
She felt someone tugging on her arm, uncurling the tight ball of her fist to remove the precious piece of wire that had been her saviour, her redeemer, her key to freedom.
"Damnable fool," cursed Professor Zimmerman as he supervised the actions of his team. It was the second time that week she'd attempted to escape, somehow managing to overload the security lock on her holding cell, overpowering several of his best guards and making it past the perimeter gate. Finding her several miles across the West Siberian Plain, a recovery team had finally managed to return her to the compound. But barely three days had passed until she attempted the same thing again.
The first time, if anything, had been an inconvenience, setting back their training even further after a mild case of hypothermia. The second time had been down right humiliating and as a result, no more risks were being taken.
"Might I suggest," said Doctor Baxter as he tightened the restraints about the girl's wrists, "we start with a low current using a bilateral bitemporal? It is slightly more risky but… considering the time restraints we’re under and-“
"Do it," said Elliot harshly, really he did not approve of such measures. Tampering with a person's memory was a delicate and specialised field of expertise but more than that he found the entire concept monstrous. If one could not coerce or persuade another to fall in line then they simply were not doing their job properly.
The trouble was he'd hit something of a brick wall with Kate. Physically she was everything that he could ever want and yet emotionally she was distant and fractured, unable to see past her own petty, trivial concerns. This was the last resort, if he couldn't control her mind, bend her will to follow his own then she was of no use to him. All his years of work, of monitoring the girl's progression, all of that would be for nothing - he would have failed.
So despite his own misgivings he'd decided to embark on this course of action. What really were his alternatives? If he did nothing and she failed the testing, she would die anyway. It was a long shot but it was also the reason why he'd chosen Doctor Baxter to join his team. They called him the 'Identity Engineer’ because that's what he did – he took away the old and replaced it with something else. That’s what Elliot needed right now, he needed Kate to forget about her husband and father, of her life in Los Angeles. He needed complete disassociation.
Kate stirred again, twisting her neck as one of the lab technicians hooked an IV to her arm and a cold dripping sensation began to travel down to her fingers. "No..." she murmured, turning away as two electrodes were placed on either side of her head.
"Increase dose of succinylcholine to 10cc's, we don't want her breaking a limb or anything."
Kate tried to cry out again but suddenly two strong hands took hold of her face, pressing her tongue down so that she wouldn't choke and placing a rubber block between her teeth.
"Let’s start with something small," said Alex, adjusting the dials on the ECT machine, the hum of an electrical charge resonating within the hot metal.
Kate moaned again woosily, loosing the battle against consciousness. Her eyes closed slowly, the images steadily blurring together.
****Some Time Later****
“It was an accident… … … shouldn’t have happened…”
“…power surge, overloaded the circuit breakers. Girl got enough voltage to light up Vegas…”
She opened her eye a crack, barely enough to see by. Her head hurt, pounding like a bad hangover. She groaned and immediately sensed several people rush to her side.
“…awake, oh thank-god…”
“…lost her for a moment there, someone get the…”
“…shit… …not responding doctor, we need…”
Another groan, her eyes rolling back in their sockets as she forced them open. One second… two second… she closed them again.
“…gone again, looks like it might be hypoxia, get that oxygen…”
An elastic mask pulled over her face, a cold, metallic smell. Her head hurt so much, her jaw, her limbs… *What was going on?*
“…on his way, he wants to see her…”
“…too late…”
****Even More Time Later****
"Kate? Kate? Can you hear me?"
*Go away,* she thought irritably.
"If you can hear me Kate, just blink your eyes."
*Blink your eyes, indeed!* she thought, whoever this Kate was she just wished she'd hurry up and answer so that she could go back to sleep.
“I know you can hear me,” a softer voice this time, feminine, familiar? No, not familiar….
“Please Kate…”
She opened her eyes, blinking as she struggled to clear her vision. Standing above her was a dark-haired woman, peering down behind a pair of heavy framed glasses. At seeing her away, the woman smiled broadly and reached out, taking hold of her hand.
“Oh, Kate, you’re awake… I was so worried. When I heard what had happened I-“
“She’s awake?”
Jillian straightened, dropping Kate’s hand discreetly as Dr Baxter entered the room. He took immediate charge, forcing Jillian aside as he moved to Kate’s bed.
“Good to see you awake, Kate, I-“
"Who?" she said suddenly in confusion, a frown spread across her forehead. She looked once at the man then at the woman and back again. "Why do you keep calling me that?"
Dr Baxter frowned, glancing briefly at Jillian as though considering the prospect that this was a joke concocted between the two of them. "What would you rather me call you?"
Kate sat up, her brows knitting together in thought. "I..." she paused again, her lower lip trembling slightly. "I don't know. Kate?" she said, her voice raised in question.
A frown. "You don't remember?"
"Of course I remember," she said in frustration, "who doesn't know their own name?"
"How about what year it is?"
She shook her head.
"The name of the current president?
Kate bit her lower lip, her frustration growing even deeper. "Clinton?"
Baxter turned back to Dr Lennon. "I think you'd better contact the Professor and tell him to get down here. We have a situation."
Forgotten
******FLASHBACK*****
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Tuesday, 21st August 2007
6:09am Local Time
“She… what?”
“Amnesia,” said Dr Baxter briefly, “it’s hard to determine the extent at this moment. There was an initial period of confusion, regarding identity-”
“-She didn’t know her name?”
Alex nodded, his eyes half closed in a sleepy gesture. He’d been up most of the night covering ground with the girl, doing tests and going over things again and again until he thought his brain might shrivel up and die from lack of sleep. “Yes, but she seemed to recover quickly once I’d outlined a few basic facts, but… there’s other significant episodic memory loss – events, times, place and associated emotions. I’ve yet to determine whether it has affected her motor neurone skills at a more in-depth degree but after a cursory examination I would be inclined to say not. Though it’s still early days.”
Elliot continued to pace, his face rigid with agitation. “So, no loss of basic skills, magical aptitude?”
“Declarative memory – that which stores knowledge and the application of such, all appears to be intact. Of course a more specialised examination would be desirable. Serum EX-32 is still prevalent in her blood stream, I gave her another dose this morning.”
“Excellent. That was my primary concern of course, a witch without recourse to her powers is of very little use. You’re certain-“
Alex nodded, “I have a team with her now, but I’ve already tested her mana levels, they’re stable and at a normal ratio - for subject 1312 anyway.”
“Good, good.”
“In regards to our other problem, there is a solution.”
Elliot looked up. “Right now I’m open to anything you can suggest to rectify this matter.”
Alex nodded. “In a way… this does still follow our original design - if somewhat extreme. I’ve already questioned her on several subjects - she has no memory of ever having lived in Los Angeles, barring her formative years that is.”
Elliot’s face relaxed somewhat, the lines around his eyes easing out of their hardened frown. “That would suggest only a retrograde amnesia-“
“-Yes but,” Alex paused, exhaling a pent-up breath. “I’ve yet to ascertain exactly where her memory extends, from my examinations so far, I’m guessing at the last five years or so. Her recall of events would certainly imply-“
“So, back to when she was at Sindell?”
“Precisely, a more extensive cross-examination will allow us to clarify an exact data range. Although there appear to be blank spaces - black holes if you will, from her memory even of that time. The solution that I wished to present is this: a new memory to cover the gaps in the old one. Through hypnotherapy and post-hypnotic suggestion I believe it’s possible. At the moment she is, for want of a better analogy, an empty canvas waiting to be filled. Just think of the opportunity-”
“-Yes…” Elliot smiled, “yes I see your point Doctor.”
“I know you had faith in our abilities to turn her to our cause, but I have to admit I had my reservations that she would, she was a very stubborn, committed young woman. But now, now we have a unique opportunity-”
“-But is there a chance that she might regain her memory?” interrupted Elliot again, his brow knitting together in thought.
“There is a possibility, in fact the probability… considering the circumstances of this particular endeavour is significantly-“
“-In English please Doctor.”
“I apologise. Considering that she may very well come into contact with reminders of her past, it IS likely that she will achieve some level of memory recall. If subject 1312 makes it through the testing that is something that we will have to monitor, though there are ways around it. I could construct a back-story that relates closely to her own, with a few select omissions of course.”
Elliot nodded. “We will need to go over the details.”
“Yes, might I also suggest…”
“Go ahead.”
“We inform her of the accident; if such an event as a memory recall occurs, we will at least be sufficiently insured against any later repercussions.”
Elliot nodded in agreement. “Do it, inform me of your progress, and doctor?”
Alex looked up, waiting.
“As quickly as possible, but I want a good job done on this. The trials are soon and I have to divide my time between my other candidates, but I want full updates on the situation.”
Alex nodded. Elliot turned to leave but before he reached the door Alex spoke again.
“Professor?”
Elliot paused by the door, waiting for the inevitable question. Actually he was surprised it hadn’t been raised already.
“Why? Why spend so much time on this girl when we already have three others, more than that, a dozen other girls. It makes no sense. I know that she was your personal elective, that you have invested much time into calculating her compatibility, but…”
“Why expend so much effort on this one girl?” finished Elliot, turning back to face the doctor. “You’re right, I have invested much in her, time that can never be reclaimed. But more importantly, more importantly Doctor Baxter is because I owe it. I owe it to her mother.”
Making Memories (last flashback yippee!!)
******FLASHBACK*****
The Ministry of Magic – Siberia, Russia
Friday, 24th August 2007
11:32am Local Time
Kate’s head circled the room as she took in her surroundings from the edge of her bed. She tugged on the awkward cotton gown that she’d been dressed in, barely falling past her knees. What a dismal place this seemed, so sterile and soulless. She couldn’t imagine voluntarily surrendering her place and position at Sindell for such a life - but that’s precisely what she’d been informed that she’d done. Some dispute with the elders a couple of years since - well that she could believe, Hestia, Christian and Serapis had never been the most accommodating of people after all, she could remember that much if nothing else.
Rising to her feet, Kate walked over to the basin where a mirror hung on the wall above. She looked at her reflection, running her hands across the features of her face. How much older did she look? Not so much really but there were tell tale signs here and there, faint lines of worry marred her once smooth forehead and other, smaller lines about the edges of her eyes that looked like they’d been caused by smiling. So at least she must have lived a happy life at some point.
Running her hands down her body, Kate lifted the hem of her gown above her waist. She frowned, noticing faint, barely discernible marks about her abdomen, slowly she traced her fingers across them.
“I believe they’re called stretch marks.”
Kate spun around, dropping her gown back into place and stared hard at the man who had spoken. Slowly she raised her chin, tilting her head to one side.
“Professor Zimmerman.”
Elliot smiled, nodding. “Doctor Baxter informed you of my-“
“No,” interrupted Kate swiftly, “I’m… unusually perceptive.”
“That’s one word for it I guess,” said Elliot with a grin, “though others may call it telepathy.”
The expression on Kate’s face faltered for a moment, giving away her own surprise. “You know-“
“I know everything about you.”
“Then you find me at something of a disadvantage.” Kate sat down on the edge of her bed, keeping her eyes trained on the other man. “So is that why you’re here? To help me fill in the blanks?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Kate frowned, running a hand across her abdomen. “You said-“
“You were with child, yes.”
“Can’t read minds too, can you Elliot?”
A faint smile. “I’m afraid not.” He moved across the room silently, laying his own hand upon Kate’s abdomen as he reached her. “A long time ago… unfortunate how it all ended.”
“Ended?”
“A regrettable accident, but poor Lucien, you do remember him?”
A slow nod.
“He was heart broken, the two of you never managed to get past it. Such a pity, you were so well suited. After that… well, that’s why you came to us.”
Kate’s breath caught in the back of her throat, she turned away, looking at her reflection again in the mirror. She did remember Luc, how could she forget? He’d been the love of her life, her first and only love. She remembered… oh the little that she could drag up from the murky, clouded depths of her mind… she remembered that he’d had to leave the coven, a transfer, something important. She’d been devastated; Kate could remember that clearly, the absolute pain of him leaving. But after that there was nothing, a blackness - empty of feeling and emotion, empty of everything.
“I… wondered what had happened,” she admitted quietly, “but I was… afraid I guess. Afraid to ask, to find out the truth. Of course…” she turned, focusing her eyes on the professor, “you could be lying…”
“Why would I do that?”
Kate shrugged, “I don’t know you, I wouldn’t be able to tell if you were lying.” A wicked gleam in her eye. “For all I know you might say we were lovers in an attempt to get me into bed.”
Elliot’s grinned. “That would be terribly unchivalrous of me though, don’t you think?”
“You’re a man aren’t you?”
Elliot laughed, already warming to this more forthright and assured version of his protégé. It was still Kate, he could tell even after such a short encounter. Her usual caution and defensive nature shone through, but there was something else, a sort of detached coldness that came from a complete ignorance of the sufferings her life had endured.
“I’m glad you noticed, but for the record we were never lovers.”
“I didn’t think you were my type.”
Elliot laughed again, placing a hand on her shoulder. “My child, I see you have not at least lost your wit. Trust me, Kate. I know this whole ordeal must be very unsettling but I promise, I have only your best interests at heart, I have no reason to lie to you.”
Kate curled her lower lip thoughtfully, looking the man up and down. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” A pause. “But, for your sake, I hope you’re telling me the truth. I’d hate for you to take advantage of me while I’m… not quite myself.”
“Well like you said, that’s why I’m here, to help you feel more like yourself again. We have a lot to talk about.”
The Witches of East-LA-Wick
The Witches of East-LA-Wick
Casa de los Dias Dorados - Beverly Hills, Los Angeles
Wednesday, 10th October 2007
17:46
Introducing – Thandie Newton as Zola, Michelle Yeoh as Su Ling and reintroducing Nicole Kidman as Catherine
“The three of you stand before me today because you are the last descendants of your bloodline, because in you lies the pinnacle of that great ancestry and the legacy which it entails.”
Zoya grinned, shifting her lithe, muscular weight from one hip to the other. She glanced at the two women that flanked her on either side. Su Ling stood to her right, a leggy oriental dressed in a skin tight, cobalt blue kimono, her long black hair tied back with a single chopstick - she embodied every tradition of the Far East, beauty mixed with deadly samurai skill and also an unshakeable respect for the customs of her forefathers. To her left stood the sultry red-head Wicca, Catherine, a typical western practitioner of The Craft - her ‘legacy’ was by far the oldest and most distinguished, descended from one of the most ancient pagan families in Europe. And of course there was herself - Zola Mwabi, daughter of Mucona Mwani, witchdoctor and shaman to some of the most remote tribes that still existed in Africa. There weren’t many children who had spent the majority of their formative years summoning the dead to do their bidding, but Zola was one of them - and damn good at it too.
Her grin widened and she shifted her weight back to her other hip, her dark eyes quietly assessing the row of men that faced them. “Good to know I didn’t just get the job because of my great ass.”
Aimes Carmichael remained as coolly impassive as ever. Michael Gemmel smirked, his own eyes flickering across the three remarkable specimens of womanhood that faced him. Elliot Zimmerman sighed, brushing a strand of lint from the lapel of his jacket with feigned disinterest.
“I think you’ll find, Ms. Mwabi, that great asses come and go, but talent and power are never-ending.”
Zola grinned again, “speak for yourself - I intend to hold onto everyone of my assets.”
The corner of Su Ling’s lips curled upwards in a barely discernible smile. Her eyelids closed momentarily, heavy lashes caressing the porcelain beauty of her cheek. Her eyes were a shade of the darkest jade, unusual, virtually unique for her race.
“With the greatest respect, Professor, we know who we are…” she glanced indirectly at Catherine, discerning the slight incline of her head - she remained silent though her eyes shifted focus, resting on Su Ling as she continued.
“Well, some of us do.”
“I have not forgotten who I am, Su Ling,” corrected Kate with a sigh as she straightened her posture. Scarlet curls swung back from her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes cutting through the darkness of the room, cold and hollow.
“And that which I lack is of little consequence. I don’t need to remember the insignificant details of my past in order to strike down my enemies.”
Zola smirked, “lucky if you ask me, there’re a few things in my past that I’d rather forget.”
“Considering your background, I’m surprised there’s anything you’d want to remember.”
Zola arched an eyebrow suggestively at Su Ling, “you’d be surprised.”
“You have all fought for your place here,” continued Elliot, ignoring the comments from the three women. “You have sacrificed your liberty, surrendered your parole, and offered the blood of your fellow sisters.”
Zola grinned again. “Yeah, that last part was fun.”
A light fluttering of Kate’s eyelashes signalled her aversion. “Necessary, Zola, hardly fun.”
“That depends on your taste; personally I’ve always enjoyed blood sports and hacking a person’s heart from their chest doesn’t get much bloodier.”
Su Ling suppressed a sigh, choosing to purse her lips together and remain silent.
Zola shrugged. “I’ll agree it was messy, even gruesome, but thoroughly enjoyable.”
Kate rolled her eyes in amusement. “Typical vodoun, you’re all the same. Given the choice between something clean and simple or a bloody massacre you’ll always go for the bloody massacre - kind of like the French in that respect.”
“Ouch,” grinned Zola, “now that hurt.”
“You have all undergone significant changes since you joined us; you have improved, not only in proficiency, but also in practice.” Elliot levelled his eyes at the three women, urging them to be quiet while he spoke. “But now is the time to put that training to use, we have already received reports of demons that have broken through in to our dimension - malevolent spirits, creatures of the underworld. Our agents have performed several locator spells on the area but as of yet have been unable to detect the source of where these entities are emerging.”
“Backdoor to the Hellmouth,” mumbled Zola, “doesn’t get any better than this.”
“The brutal murder of seven children - all under the age of twelve, all female, have been reported in the last week. Local authorities believe it to be the work of a serial killer, but we of course know different.”
Kate shifted her poise, filled with sudden interest at the news. “Apart from the age and gender are there any other similar factors linking the deaths?”
“One, their blood had all been drained - and we’re not talking vampires either. These children were cut, several times, and the blood was harvested - if not in a rather slovenly manner.”
“I take it the crime scenes were little more than a bloodbath,” Kate turned to Zola, the corner of her mouth curling into a sly grin. “Have an alibi do you?”
Zola scrunched up her nose sullenly. “Hey I object to that remark, I said I like blood sports, where’s the sport in killing kids? They can’t even defend themselves.”
“Glad to hear you draw the line somewhere,” smirked Su Ling.
“I’m practical, not a fucking psychopath,” declared Zola defensively, “excuse me if I see a difference between wholesale slaughter and protecting myself.”
“No need to be defensive, Zola,” said Su Ling calmly, “we agree with you in principle if not always your methods.” She turned back to Professor Zimmerman. “Where did the last murder take place? We could check it out, maybe get a feel for the demon responsible.”
Elliot nodded, pleased. “The last two took place in Santa Monica, before that El Segundo, Hemosa and Redondo.”
Zola snorted laconically. “Sounds like our demon has a thing for the beach – though I doubt it’s for the surf. My guess? Water demon.”
Kate checked her watch, casting a glance out the window. “It’s still too early for a recon – not without drawing attention to ourselves, even in LA. I suggest we get a few hours sleep and head out after sunset.”
Season Five: October 1, 2007 - Unknown
11th October 2007
7:22pm
Outside Bob’s Bar
"Seems no matter how many times I set foot in Bob's I'm always pleased to leave." Galen took a cigarette out of a half-empty pack and placed it between his lips as he sparked up. "Don't think I'll ever get used to that smell, what was that anyway? Reminded me of my Aunt Flo's house - damp wallpaper, rotting plaster and old lady."
"It’s the vampires, get enough of them together and you get that delightful potpourri, ‘Vampire’s dew”, Alessa grinned and leaned a little closer to the raising smoke from his cigarette. She needed to cover the smell as well. “Yes, that is so much better.”
Galen chuckled, throwing a spent match to the ground as they started walking down the alley. "Well there's something I never thought I'd hear, especially in LA. Not that I'm too sure 'cigarette smoke is better than the smell of the undead’ is much of a compliment but when you're in a minority like me, you learn to take all that's thrown your way."
Exhaling another cloud of pale, silvery smoke into the night air, Galen looked up and down the alley before turning to Alessa. "So d’you have any idea what this other place is like? Can't say I've ever heard of it before. Porfirio Diaz... you still want to head out there?"
“Don’t worry about my lungs, Verbatis don’t get cancer, and tobacco smell is nice, if you take that threat away.” Alessa laughed, then she checked her watch and frowned. It was early still for patrolling, but she didn’t want to stay out too late that night. “Maybe we could leave it for some other day?” she asked Galen, “I’d rather be home early tonight.”
"No problem, I understand. Big day tomorrow right?" Galen grinned, "at the risk of sounding unchivalrous, may I ask how many candles will be melting the birthday cake tomorrow? Should I alert the LAFD that there may be a possible fire risk?"
Alessa giggled, “probably, if I were having a cake there would be almost a hundred…” at his round eyes, she added quickly, her eyes twinkling, “well, 88 to be fair. I know, I'm well preserved.”
"Exceedingly. Verbati’s could put cosmetic surgeons out of business - which would be no sad thing. I saw Joan Rivers on Letterman the other night... sheesh, that woman makes the crypt keeper look like a hottie."
Finishing his cigarette, Galen stubbed it out beneath his shoe. "So how is the search for the demon hunter going? Any more leads?"
“Not really.” Alessa made a face. “Ellis got word from this demon snitch, he was meeting him tonight. I hope that leads somewhere because we’re at a dead end. On the other hand he hasn’t attacked again.”
“That’s one thing I-”
“-Shush,” said Alessa suddenly, raising her hand and motioning for Galen to be quiet. She strained her hearing, trying to catch the sound again. “Listen…do you hear it?”
****
Zayn wanted to shift her grip on the tail but she was afraid this scaly horror would slide down the hole before she could grab it again.
The saying 'tiger by the tail' kept going through her mind. She could hold it a long time, she wasn't going to get tired. But the way this thing was howling it was bound to attract attention before then.
A stray cat sat on the edge of a windowsill and licked its thighs. Zayn looked at it with scorn. "Would you go get me some help, please?" she said in desperation. The cat just looked at her and nonchalantly went back to its grooming.
****
“What?” Galen asked, looking around. He raised an eyebrow at Alessa, took in her concentrated face and shut up.
It was an unholy sound, a bellowing full of anger and frustration. Alessa moved her head, trying to locate the direction of the source. It seemed to be coming from all around her, which was confusing her senses. Then she noticed the storm drain in the corner. The roar came from there. She started walking towards the drain and then started running past it.
“From here,” she shouted over her back leading the way towards whatever was making that awful noise.
****
From down the street Zayn heard the clang of a manhole cover sliding open. A low howl echoed down the night streets and the beast she had been holding lifted its head from the hole it was gripping with both of its short-but-powerful forearms. It whooped loudly and the sound echoed off the glass-fronted buildings and parked cars.
*Shit,* thought Zayn. *It has friends.*
****
Galen followed Alessa as she threaded her way through the maze of back ally’s behind Bob’s. All the while the sound of screeching and howling grew louder and more fierce, reverberating down the virtually empty streets.
“What the hell is that?” panted Galen as he struggled to keep up with the demoness. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was out of shape but it was ever so slightly embarrassing when a 120-pound woman could out run him at a trot. Even if that 120-pound woman was an 80-year old demon.
Coming to an abrupt stop, Galen almost banged right into Alessa as she indicated down the street. He strained to make out the scene in the poor light, squinting in the gloom. As the cloud cover overhead cleared he caught a glimpse of a thrashing limb protruding from a manhole. He stumbled backwards.
“What…the…?”
Alessa was looking at the dark haired woman struggling with the demon. She was strong very strong. Or she couldn’t be holding the creature from fleeing through the manhole.
“A slayer, maybe?” she answered to Galen, “no, too old. Oh, you meant that one?” She laughed, and ran towards the woman. She could be holding onto the demon, but she wasn’t getting it out of it.
“Yeah, call me crazy,” said Galen as he ran after Alessa, removing his pistol from his side holster, “but I tend to notice the hideous and freakish monsters before the quite normal but… freakishly strong humans.”
When Alessa stopped again, Galen almost bumped into her again. He came to a halt also, less than thirty feet away from the woman who was struggling to keep hold of the… whatever it was. “What are you waiting for Al? An engraved invitation?” He started off, “that woman needs our help.”
She turned to him, cocking her head as she listened. “I think that thing needs help too,” she answered. “And it’s coming.”
Galen turned to the spot Alessa was watching, another of those hideous and freakish monsters was coming their way. “Holy shit!” he cried and aimed the creature with his gun, but Alessa put her hand on his arm.
“I’ll see to this one, you go help her. We’ll need her,” she said as she took in the demon. It looked like a ‘Jurassic Park’ velociraptor. “I guess holy shit is putting it mildly…” she mumbled as she shifted, taking on the form of her demonic half.
Zayn watched with interest as the attractive couple stood staring down the street towards her. She could only glance at them as the creature she had been holding back had decided to try to press its advantage. It had hooded one of its massive hind legs into the manhole and was attempting to whip its body back and forth. Zayn'jae Vex, needless to say, had to spend a lot of her concentration to maintain her hold.
But the man looked familiar. She had a feeling she knew him from somewhere. When he drew his gun she pinpointed it immediately. The witch's husband: Galen Eldridge.
She had known that the remnants of the White Hats would cross her path. It was partially why she was out here night after night ruining her clothes and spending a small fortune on gasoline for her fuel-hungry bike. The other part would unfold in its own time.
"Hey! James Bond!” she called. “Are you going to use that gun or just stand there and look pretty?"
“Not quite what I had in mind,” said Galen coming up beside the woman as she continued to struggle with the long tail-like appendage. Taking aim at the scaly creature, he fired off several rounds. The thing uttered an ear-shattering howl, it’s tail waving around madly as it tried to shake the woman free.
Galen took another shot, and then another.
The beast rolled like it had been punched allowing Zayn to twist the tail and throw it out the hole. Suddenly the tug of war turned into a whirlwind of kicking claws and flailing scaly muscle. The raven-haired woman stomped a jackbooted foot into the mass of flailing claws and teeth and the creature made a piteous moan before slamming her with a leg that opened huge gaps in her shirt and pants.
Galen fired a third shot before glancing back at the woman. She wasn't bleeding but there was a lot of skin... a lot. The creature spun and righted itself slapping at Galen with its tail. He instantly snapped back to the moment just in time to get a leathery log across the ribs that drove the wind from his lungs and made him gasp and wheeze.
As Galen went to the woman, Alessa advanced towards the second demon. “Ok, I guess you did get an engraved invitation…” she said under her breath and shut up when the beast jumped just too quickly towards her and Alessa soon found herself too busy trying to keep the demon from killing her to have time for more jokes.
It was strong and quick, and she needed all her concentration. She kicked at it, putting some distance between them and then jumped forwards again, twirling as she went, getting beneath its arm range, her claws slashing at its softer abdomen. With a roar of pain and rage, the demon twisted its body with a strong jerk. Alessa jumped back again, but not before it opened a long slash on her arm.
“Son of a…” groaned Galen as he fought to regain his breath, one arm holding his chest where the beast had struck him. Seeing the creature heading back towards the woman, he thrust his pain to one side and ran to catch up with it.
“Hey Dino,” he shouted, levelling his gun with the back of it’s head, “time to play extinct.”
The beast jerked back, it’s scaly skull splitting open with a sickening crack as several bullets ripped through the bone and buried themselves deep in the creature’s flesh. Uttering a high pitched roar, it jerked a second time before crashing to the ground, spilling the contents of it’s fractured skull across the pavement.
Galen stood looking at it for a moment, his pistol lowered by his side in disbelief.
“Nice going, quick draw!” grumbled Zayn in a burst of sarcastic anger before shrugging and grinning. “But you sure do pack a punch.”
“Yeah,” said Galen, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in an awkward grin. He looked up at the dark haired woman and smiled. “I guess I do.”
The demon launched itself at Alessa, snarling and oozing, and they both went down. It growled above her, snapping at her with a multitude of large, sharp teeth, rivulets of saliva dripping onto her fur. Alessa struggled beneath it, trying to get a good enough grip on the creature to throw it off, while she tried to avoid his teeth. She flinched when some of the demon’s drool dribbled on her face and into her mouth.
“That’s it, baboso!” she hissed, punching it in the face with her sane arm and pushing with her knees at the same time.
The demon flew back and Alessa quickly jumped up. The demon tried to claw her once more and she decreased her size, getting under its range again and to its back. As she got behind the thing she savagely twisted its head and heard its neck snap with a satisfying crunch. It dropped to the floor like a stone.
Panting and holding her arm, Alessa looked at Galen and the woman, and smiled when she saw the first demon sprawled on the street.
A whoop sounded in the distance and the woman grabbed Galen's jacket and propelled him with her towards Alessa. "Good moves, shaggy. but we have to move quickly to get out of here. It wasn't so bad when there was just one, but there are bound to be a half-dozen or more in a little while."
Galen pointed back at the one by the manhole, "See? I killed it!" he barely believed it himself. But his attention was drawn to the mystery woman and her bright yellow rubber gloves.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Are you still here? I thought I said run. I have work to do and I can't be distracted by having to defend two bystanders no matter how cute or hairy."
She pulled out the tongue of the fallen raptor and stuck a hand in its mouth. She squeezed something and a stream of slime shot out of the mouth and into a jug she had nearby.
“Now that’s an image I won’t be able to get out of my head for a few days.” Galen screwed up his nose, glancing back as he saw Alessa dusting down her fur before morphing back into her human form. There was a cut in her arm, but it seemed to be closing already. “So don’t you have a name? And if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem that bothered that two… whatever they were, just tried to maul the living daylights out of you.”
Zayn corked the bottle and walked quickly down the street prompting Alessa and Galen to stroll with her.
"My name is Zayn'Jae Vex, and I’m in a hurry to get out of the way of the sewageraptors coming to look for their fallen buddies. If you want to come with me I'll explain more over at Bob's but right now," she looked back and pointed at the bipedal silhouettes in the light of the street-lamps, "we have got to move."
Taking Zayn’s lead the three ran down the street, barely making it in the door of Bob’s before the sewageraptors caught up with them.