Vol 1, No. 46
Blood Feud
Part Five: MetalBeast
Cover: Two figures charging toward each other in the street, about to engage in combat One is Goode's werebeast form... bloody and covered metal
plates driven into the flesh, giant fists raised and ready to strike. The other figure is... Donovan.
" he was in the ballroom.
The ballroom was in the mansion... and the mansion did not exist.
It was home.
It was HER mind, after all, and it could be anything she wanted it to be, real or not. The ballroom was empty except for Ashley and one piece of furniture. The large-screen, High-Definition Plasma Television was a recent addition, summoned with a snap of her fingers.
Finding something to WATCH, however, had taken a bit more effort.
When she'd turned to the channel that corresponded to her own physical eyes, she's gotten a blank screen. She wasn't surprised; those eyes were not only closed, but the body they were attached to was suffering from a severe concussion at the very least.
She tried another station: Sebastian-TV.
She got a good loooong view of her own unconscious face.
Sebastian's thoughts were fuzzy and distant... probably more a function of her own physical condition than anything Sebastian was doing to block her. Tapping into them would take effort, and she was still weak from her narrow escape.
"Maybe later," she said, changing the channel again. "Let's watch COPS."
Through Dobbs's eyes, Ashley saw only the highway, with occasional glimpses of Sebastian. She tried another station.
She got nothing on Jason's channel. No surprise there. Being a Knight meant that his mind was closed to her, but she tried anyway just to see how the fancy television would interpret Resistance. She got a wash of multicolored lines with occasional glimpses of almost-clarity, like a scrambled cable television station. She moved on.
With Donovan she got something unusual. The bold text on the screen read: "YOU HAVE NOT PURCHASED THIS CHANNEL. TO ACCEPT THE CHARGES AND VIEW THIS PROGRAM, PRESS ENTER ON YOUR REMOTE."
Ashley looked at the remote she was holding in her hand. Sure enough, there was now a large, red 'ENTER' key in the center of it. It hadn't been there before, and it didn't look very inviting. She decided not to press it.
When she'd run out of eyes to look through, Ashley tried 'Clairvoyance News Network'. A psychic didn't necessarily NEED a set of eyes to see what was happening. That was just telepathy... and she was capable of more than that. If she concentrated, she could see whatever she wanted regardless of whether there as an actual person there or not. Usually she used the 'magic mirror' upstairs to do that, but there was no reason her fancy new television shouldn't have that option as well.
The first thing she tried was Jason. She concentrated on him, and pushed the new "Satellite" button that had appeared beside 'Enter' on the remote control.
The screen blinked... went dark... then fuzzy. Eventually the blurred image sharpened into a clear shot-
-of Jason's torso smashing against a huge pine tree with enough force to rupture-
"Oh, GOD!" Ashley dropped the remote, turned her back to the television, bent over, and heaved.
Nothing came out, but somewhere else... somewhere in the physical world... Sebastian got an unexpected lap-full of something unpleasant.
"...Jason..." Ashley said, crying.
...then she remembered something.
Ashley lowered her hands and turned around. The image on the screen now showed Jason's body pulling itself back together... although the form it was pulling together INTO was not exactly human. In the background, storming away from the grievously injured Knight, was some kind of gorilla/dinosaur thing. Wearing armor.
With a thought, Ashley shifted the image so that she could see the front of the creature. She zoomed in using even more new buttons on the ever-changing remote. It took several seconds to recognize Goode's were-beast form beneath the metal covering most of its fur, but it was still unclear why he had hurt Jason and why he was wearing metal plate armor.
"What is that stuff?" She asked herself. The image zoomed in closer... then back out. The artificial 'camera' rotated around Goode several times at varying distances... What she discovered was that Goode wasn't "wearing" the metal, the metal was wearing HIM. Brite had gotten into/onto the werebeast and was using him as a permanent source of fresh blood.
"Oh, this can't be good," she said. She tried reaching out to Goode's mind.
PAIN!
Ashley recoiled away from the television as if it were the source of the sudden bolt of agony in her mind.... a feeling like she had just yanked out all of her teeth and clamped her bloody gums down on a high voltage electric wire.
"...oh....oh.... ohhh..." Ashley staggered around in a circle, trying to get her thoughts back in order. "...NOT trying that again. Nope. Nuh-uh."
Instead, she tried the vampire. She focused on Brite's thoughts and got-
PAIINNN!!!
"AAAAhh, GOD!" Ashley dropped the remote again, fell to one knee and heaved once more-
-elsewhere, Sebastian's boots were getting wet-
She forced the agonizing echoes out of her mind. The vampire was in more pain that Goode was! How was that POSSIBLE!?
"Strike two," she moaned, slowly getting to her feet. Her abdomen was sore, she had a bad taste in her mouth, and her head hurt. These were sensations from her physical body, but she neither noticed nor cared. Goode... whom she did not like... was in trouble. Jason looked like he'd be out of the fight for a while, and Sebastian.... whom she DID like quite a bit, thank you very much... was riding in a truck, oblivious to the whole thing.
Ashley grabbed the remote from the floor and got Sebastian back on the screen. She concentrated on the distant thoughts, trying to force her way in-
Someone knocked on the mansion door.
"I'm BUSY!" she shouted, then concentrated again. Contact! Sebastian's thoughts scattered as her willpower elbowed them aside. "Sebastian-"
The knock came again. Harder. So hard that if Ashley hadn't suddenly diverted her attention to keeping it closed, the doors to her inner mind would have been knocked off the hinges.
"What the HELL!?" Ashley pushed a button and changed the television to the security camera that had just appeared outside over the front door.
Her father.
"Ashley, let me in," he said.
"NOT A GOOD TIME! COME BACK LATER!" She screamed back at him.
Sebastian... contact...: "Sebastian, there'-"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"I'll stay out here until you let me in, Ashley," said Soloman. "I'll keep knocking. You'll get tired of it eventually."
"FINE!" With a furious wave of her hand, Ashley flung the doors open. Soloman walked in, and the doors slammed closed behind him.
"Ashley, we have to talk about what happened-"
"You realize you're inside my mind now, right? You realize I can crush you like a bug, right?"
"Yes, but I know you won't."
"I will if you don't let me help my friends. Excuse me... OUR friends!"
Ashley pointed at the television. She didn't touch the remote, but the picture changed nevertheless, returning to an image of Goode/Brite storming out of the woods toward the back of some building.
"What is that?" Soloman asked with only mild curiosity.
"That's YOUR friend Goode. He's been taken over or something, and now he's... wait a minute, what's that building-"
Ashley pushed the 'Slow' button on the remote. Reality continued to move at normal speed, but... detached from her physical limitations... Ashley's thoughts were now moving several times faster. Her awareness of the outside world slowed, allowing her time to zoom in on the building and circle around to the front of it while the Brite/Goode monstrosity moved at about one step every five seconds.
"Oh no!" Ashley gasped when she saw the bright colors and cartoon figures adorning the front of the building. "It's full of children!"
" ot for long," Sebastian said suddenly. Dobbs shot him a quick glance, then went back to answering the questions being fired at her through the cell phone.
"Donovan saw it," Sebastian continued. Another glance told Marilyn that the boy was talking to Ashley... who was still unconscious. The girl hadn't moved except to vomit on Sebastian's clothes twice. "The detective is calling in a bomb report, the area will be evacuated shortly."
"What?" Dobbs hung up and put her phone beside her on the seat. She expected it to ring in the next few seconds. Calling in a bomb threat generally spawned a higher-than-normal amount of phone traffic. "Who are you talking to?"
"Ashley," said Sebastian.
"She's still out."
"She can reach me now."
"Reach you....?"
"With her mind," Sebastian said quietly. "To warn me about the town."
"Oh. Right."
Sebastian looked at her.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"You tell me that whatever that thing we saw might be headed to a populated area, and I believe it. That's logical and, more importantly, I SAW it. Based on what we've already seen, those people are in danger so we need to get them out. But now you're telling me you got that you got inside information from a psychic? An UNCONSCIOUS psychic? Sorry, I can't follow that."
"Good." Sebastian nodded and looked back at Ashley. "Better for you if you don't believe."
"Hmph." Dobbs drove silently for a second or two. "That wasn't the answer I was expecting."
"Jason wants you to believe because he likes you.
"He what?"
"But the truth is it's better for you if you stay away. Convince yourself that none of this is real Make up whatever lies you need to. If you don't, then you'll just get pulled into it."
"Newsflash, kid... I'm ALREADY in it."
"No you're not," said Sebastian. "Not all the way. Not yet."
"So that's your honest advice, eh?"
Sebastian nodded.
"I think I can take that advice."
Dobbs decided to let the matter rest. So far that was two attempts at conversation with Jason's friend, and both of them had ended up awkward.
"We're too late," Sebastian said a few seconds later.
"Too late for-"
"The phone call you made. The evacuation."
"They're clearing the neighborhood-"
"Brite is already there. Jason and Ashley are hurt, and we're too far away."
"And that means...?"
"It means that if a ghost can't stop Brite, a lot of people are going to die."
 onovan floated through the wall of the Kidz B Kidz Daycare center just as the phone rang at the secretary's desk. The receptionist, a massive cow of a woman with a thick southern accent, answered the call.
"Kidz B Kidz-" she began, then she fell silent.
Donovan watched as the color drained out of the woman's face.
She put the caller on hold, then sprang from her seat and ran-
-actually RAN-
To the closed door on the other side of the room. The bronze plaque on the wall beside the door had two lines engraved on it. The first line simply read:
"ADMINISTRATOR"
Below it was the name:
"HOWARD B. FILKUS"
The secretary pounded her meaty fist on the door once, and then immediately charged in. Donovan followed her, avoiding the door entirely and going through the wall instead.
"It's the POLICE, Mr. Filkus! They say there's a BOMB!"
"A what?"
Howard B. Filkus was a thin, awkward-looking man. His expensive suit and ostentatious oak desk did nothing to lessen the impression that he was a clumsy, uncoordinated oaf that had somehow managed to reach middle age in spite of himself.
"A Bomb," the secretary repeated, slowly and calmly the second time. She glanced at the other two people in the office... a mother and child that had been in private conference with Mr. Filkus. At mention of the word 'bomb' the mother became instantly horrified. Horror was not an emotion that the secretary had seen before... at least not in such a pure form. The big woman stammered for a moment, distracted by the mother who was quite literally frozen in silent shock. The child... a dark-haired young boy... simply looked distracted.
"Uhh-uhh-uhhh" The secretary waded through her own words for several seconds before she found her way. "P-P-Pick up the phone! Pick up the phone!"
Filkus snatched the phone from the cradle, put it to his ear.
"Just remain calm for a moment, Ms. D'Arcy," he told the woman sitting across from him. He pushed a button on the phone. "Filkus here," he said. "Yes. Yes. Yes, sir, I- Yes... all right... a hundred and seventy children, yes. We have two activity busses, but that's not nearly enough to fit everyone in. No, sir, they're very small- Quite sure, sir. All right... No, sir..."
Filkus continued to blurt short answers into the telephone.
Floating invisibly in the corner, Donovan Wilde went slowly mad.
"For God's sake, how long does it take to start evacuating a bloody SCHOOL!?" The ghost growled. No on heard him. Though he was now a 'proper' ghost with the power to make himself seen and heard, he was intentionally keeping himself hidden. The sudden appearance of a wandering spirit would undoubtedly make this situation worse.
"What's happening?" Ms. D'Arcy blurted.
"-They don't know what building the bomb is in, or even if there really IS one," Filkus answered her quickly... then went back to his phone call.
"Mommy..." The child in the room squirmed uncomfortably. Everyone... including Donovan, ignored him. Filkus went on answering questions, flashing occasional panicked glances at the secretary.
"Mommy!" the boy shouted.
The boy's mother got up-
"They want everyone to stay where they are!" Filkus blurted. He pointed at her and then at the chair she'd just vacated.
"What!?" the woman gasped.
"OH BLOODY HELL!" Donovan raged.
"Y-your car," said Filkus. "We don't have enough busses to evacuate everyone, so we'll need all the cars. Including your car, Ms. D'Arcy"
"But-" The woman began
"MOMMY!" the boy shrieked. "Look at the man!" The boy pointed.
Everyone in the room stopped-
-and looked directly at Donovan.
"Shh!" the child's mother blurted. "There's no one there, now hush!"
"But there he is! Right there!" The boy pointed again, but this time everyone ignored him. Except for Donovan.
"You can SEE me!" Donovan's ghostly form dropped to the floor and he advanced on the child. "You can SEE ME!"
"MAAAAA!" The boy shrieked and clamped his arms around his mother's thigh so tightly that she yelped in pain.
"SHH, Casey!"
"Do you know who I am, BOY!" Donovan roared. He'd only gotten the idea an instant ago, but it seemed like a good one. "Do YOU!?"
"...no..." the boy mewled.
Donovan told him.
An instant later:
"Mister Filkus!" Casey said nervously, but very loud. Filkus glanced at him, then went on talking on the phone. "Mister Filkus, God says you should hang up the phone."
Again, for the second time in less than a minute, the child had the full attention of everyone in the room. This time, he kept it.
"He says the bomb is in this building, and if you don't stop talking to the police and get the kids out, we're all going to die."
Silence.
"...and then you'll go to hell."
Silence.
The boy flinched.
"Now God is yelling at you. He called you a bad name and he wants you to look there-"
The boy pointed to the corner of the big desk.
For the briefest, faintest instant, Donovan was there.... plainly visible for everyone in the room to see. And then he wasn't.
"EVERYONE OUT!" Filkus shouted at the secretary. "SOUND THE FIRE ALARM!" Then he yelled into the phone, not answering questions but finally taking command. "We don't have time to wait! The busses will leave as soon as they're loaded! We'll fit everyone we can into the employee's cars and whoever doesn't fit will have to RUN!"
The phone hit the handset just as the fire alarm sounded.
Smiling, Donovan nodded his silent thanks to the boy and floated backwards through the wall.
The daycare center's evacuation plan was simple and well-rehearsed. The instant the alarm sounded, the hallway was filled with teachers and assistants who were quickly... but calmly... guiding the children to the nearest exit. They would all meet in the front parking lot where, during a normal emergency... if there ever was such a thing... they would take a head-count and wait for the firemen or police to tell them what to do. But this time, the center's two half-sized busses raced into the parking area with tires screeching. Employees with cars ran to get them, while a few others shoved the children onto the busses, counting and identifying each child as they boarded...
This would have worked.
If Howard B. Filkus had initiated this plan the instant the phone rang instead of talking waiting several precious minutes... he could have saved them all.
But he didn't.
Helpless to do anything to speed them up, Donovan followed the events of the evacuation with steadily growing certainty that they would be too little, too late. By the time the busses pulled into the parking lot, Donovan could hear the trees snapping behind the school. In about ten seconds, the blood-eating monster would be crashing through the rear wall. He/it would immediately catch the scent of food, and he/it would waste no time demolishing everything between him and the parking lot. By the time he/it made it out the front, MAYBE one of the busses would be loaded. But even if they were both ready to go, there would be at least fifty children waiting for him.
"Damn!" Donovan swore. With a thought, he launched himself backward and flew into... though... and out of the empty school via the back wall.
Brite was about four seconds away from crashing through the exact spot where Donovan had emerged.
"NO!" Donovan shouted, making himself visible in front of the metal-and-flesh beast.
Brite made a sound. Donovan couldn't tell if it was an animal growl or some attempt at human speech, but it made no difference. Brite plowed through Donovan's ephemeral form without stopping. One massive, bloody arm reached out... not for Donovan, but for the wall of the daycare center.
On the other side of that wall was a simplistic maze of empty rooms that would slow Brite down about as much as Donovan had just done. And on the other side of THAT was a parking lot full of children.
Donovan darted in front of the beast once again.
"YOU CANNOT PASS!" The ghost demanded. Brite/Goode bore down on him, growling in both pain and hunger. Blood and drool poured from Dr. Goode's lips as the mouth opened and the beginnings of a roar split the air. The beast neither slowed nor altered its course-
-and then, everything changed.
"AMMIT! We're too late!" Ashley turned to her father. "Do something?"
"Something?"
"Save those people!"
"Save? What exactly do you expect me to do, Ashley-"
"I've heard the stories! I know you can kick ass when you want to! Well..." Ashley pointed to the image of Brite on the screen. "Go kick THAT one!"
Soloman shook his head in a way that meant not only 'no' but that he was disappointed in his daughter for even asking.
"You clearly were not listening to me earlier-"
"And you're not paying attention NOW! Look-"
Ignoring the remote entirely, Ashley waved her hand at the television. The camera pulled back and swept around to the front of the building, where a small horde of screaming children were being quickly ushered onto two short busses.
The busses were too small to hold them all, and so now cars were being brought in from the employee parking lot. All of this unfolded in slow motion... yet it was clear that by the time the busses were ready to move, the creature would be upon them.
"You see THAT!? You see those kids!? They're gonna be vampire-food if you don't go and help!"
"And if I were the one who'd placed them in danger, then I would move heaven and earth to save them. But this is not my fight. Nor is it yours."
"Are you INSANE!?"
"Why are these children in danger, Ashley? Could it be because of your friends? Could it be that violence and death follows them... the way it will follow YOU if you stay with them?"
"Wh-WHAT!? You want to talk about that NOW!? People are going to DIE!"
"You are right, and that is a horrible thing. I'd even go so far as to say that it shouldn't be happening. But it isn't MY place to stop it. Nor is it yours. Interfering in this is wrong for many, many reasons-"
"Name ONE!"
"You're clearly not mature enough to understand-"
"Well those KIDS aren't mature enough to be smashed open and eaten like GRAPES! But that's what's gonna happen if you don't DO SOMETHING! I'd save them myself but I CAN'T!"
Ashley thought for a moment, then turned away from her father.
"I can't save them because I'm unconscious," she muttered. "And I'm unconscious because you'd rather watch me get SHOT than save your own daughter. So why am I even bothering to TALK to you...."
She pointed the remote at the screen and pushed a random button... they all did whatever she wanted anyway, so there was really no difference between them.
"Ashley, I know this is difficult for you to understand-"
"Right. Because I'm not 'mature' enough."
The television screen now showed Donovan confronting Brite outside the school. The 'confrontation' lasted a fraction of a second... and ended with Brite completely ignoring the ghost.
"See that?" said Soloman. "There's a lesson to be learned there. In the end, that is what we all are to the type of evil you fight: Nothing. Ghosts. That's all the difference we make to them. We waste our energies trying to stop something that transcends us... and if we try hard enough, we eventually BECOME the very thing we fight against. We become monsters-"
"Shut up," said Ashley. She glanced down at the remote.... then back at Donovan moving in slow-motion across the screen...
"You've already started down that path. Hurting people in the name of 'helping' them. For God's sake, you tried to kill an innocent girl just to avoid talking to me-"
"I said shut up." Ashley's thumb hovered over a button on the remote. "And as for that girl.... A) that was your fault for putting her in my way, and B) tell her I'm sorry."
"Apologizing doesn't-"
Ashley turned to her father.
"I don't know what's going to happen now.... so you'd better leave."
"What?"
"Seriously. Now would be a great time."
Ashley pushed a button, and the television went blank.... then it flickered back to a screen that Ashley had seen before. Bold text on a black background: "YOU HAVE NOT PURCHASED THIS CHANNEL. TO ACCEPT THE CHARGES AND VIEW THIS PROGRAM, PRESS ENTER ON YOUR REMOTE."
"Wh-what are you doing?" said Soloman, his expression transforming from condescension to fear. "What is that!?"
"Donovan," she whispered as her thumb descended again.
"NO!" Soloman leapt for her. "Don't Do-"
Ashley pushed the "Enter" button.
 he scent of young flesh was strong... strong enough to excite both vampire and werebeast through their roaring bonfire of mutual agony. The beast grew ravenous, and the hunger made it stronger. Still, Brite remained in firm control of the metal/flesh construct... an arrangement that was not likely to change any time soon.
Desperation always trumped hunger.
Brite could feel himself slowing down. He could feel the pain intensifying with every step. The beast's semi-human blood was enough to keep him mobile, but it wasn't enough to fully satisfy his mutated thirst or push back the pain. The fact that his very presence was poisoning his new food source only made matters worse. He could feel the beast weakening. He could sense his own energies declining... he was already was moving slower than he had been when he'd first stumbled across the host in the woods. If the beast was to serve him much longer, Brite would need to supplement its poisoned blood with REAL human nectar.
Some portion of Brite's mind knew that the building in front of him was a school. It didn't matter. Perhaps in better, less desperate times he would have bypassed it... or perhaps not. But not now. Not now when the pain was so terrible and the need so urgent. The children....
...the children... so young... Too young to have tainted their delicious fluids with drugs or diseases. But they were so small. He would have to devour a great many to slake his thirst.
Ahhhh, if only he were in a position to enjoy it.
It was not the promise of pleasure that drove Brite out of the woods and across the open field toward the school. It was need and hunger and fear and a PAIN that would not stop... that he could not ignore without the blood of every child that came within his reach.
Brite thundered toward the rear of the school, driving the blood-host's weakening legs faster and faster. When the ghost first appeared before him, Brite paid it no mind. He recognized Donovan. He heard the words that were said... but none of them mattered. Donovan could not help him. Food... food... BLOOD! BLOOD could help him!
He passed through his old enemy's hovering form without a second thought. When the ghost re-appeared before him a second time-
"YOU CANNOT PASS!"
-Brite unleashed a scream through the blood-host's lips... screaming not at Donovan, but at the very thought of food so close. The wall... the wall... tear down the WALL! Brite reached out-
Donovan reached out too. The pitiful fleshless, bloodless, impotent spirit thrust out one flattened hand toward Brite's chest, as if to push the charging monster back.
Brite felt something in the meat-host's chest shatter, and the world was suddenly spinning around him as he flew backward... back.... back toward the trees!
THOOOM!
Brite landed in the path that he himself had torn through the woods. Dirt and grass flew up around him as he skidded backward, his body gouging a trench in the earth. Finally his head struck the broken stump of a massive tree that he had destroyed mere seconds ago. Something else shattered, and the world stopped moving.
For an instant no longer than the blink of an eye, the blood-host was unconscious. It didn't matter to Brite. The startled vampire looked through the beast's blank, staring eyes and saw the ghost again... Donovan. Donovan the dead Knight. Donovan the fleshless spirit. Donovan... dropping out of the sky toward him-
-like a vengeful god.
-And Brite had himself SEEN vengeful gods before! He knew what they looked like... and they looked very much like the thing rushing toward him right now! The ghost's eyes glowed like stars, and the air around the spirit hummed... almost SANG... with a force that was not solid, physical flesh, but raw power itself! A power that didn't NEED flesh to throw a vampire fifty yards back with just a mere gesture.
"I SAID-" Donovan's voice crackled, then boomed:
"YOU SHALLL NOT PASSS!"
" an you hear me?"
Jason Brooks tried to open his eyes, but received nothing but a jolt of pain and a deeper darkness for his efforts.
"I said hear... not see. Your eyes aren't quite ready yet. Give those another minute."
Jason tried to talk, but apparently his jaw wasn't quite ready yet either. Everything hurt. Everything hurt a LOT. But then that seemed to be a permanent state of affairs lately.
"Who are you?" Jason's thoughts asked.
"A friend of a friend," said the 'voice' that Jason realized was not reaching him through his ears, but rather as thoughts whispered directly into his mind.
But that shouldn't be happening.
"Are you like Ashley?"
"I could only wish."
"Am I... dead?"
"Almost. But that's more my doing than yours. I've loosened the bonds between body and soul in order to bring you closer... where we can talk. Don't worry, you'll be up and around soon enough."
"So who are you?"
"A friend."
"Who's friend? I don't know you."
"Let's just say that I'm filling in for Donovan. He's quite occupied at the moment. But my time is short, and this will likely be the only time we have to speak. I suggest you listen. Then I'll leave you to your... whatever it is you're going to do about your little vampire problem."
"Little Vampire problem? Little?!"
"Oh vampires are quite insignificant as a Knight's work goes. They amount to nothing more than rats in a burning kitchen. But I suppose its all relative. Your current dilemma must seem quite distressing, but trust me, they get worse. When you realize just how far the fire has spread, you'll not worry about the rats unless they happen to be chewing on your toes. And that's why I'm here."
"My toes?"
"Advice. Council. A warning. The Balance is in danger, Jason. The fire has left the kitchen and soon the entire house will be ablaze. There are events in motion that will... could... lead to a threat the likes of which mankind has never seen before."
"Balance. You mean Good and Evil?"
"Yes."
"Evil has some plan, and Good is just... well... sitting around talking to pain-induced hallucinations? And worrying about rats."
"Exactly."
"Uh-huh. And I'm hearing this because...?"
"Because you are a Knight above Knights. YOU are being given the resources necessary to interfere with these events... to stop them, before they stop everything."
"Uh-huh. Look, what I've been GIVEN is-"
"Now is not the time for sarcasm. Listen to me, and save my words to ponder later. You should be dead now, but you are not. You will live because you are more than human... more than a mere Knight."
"I'm infected, is what I am. Goode's curse-"
"And Donovan's freedom. And Sebastian's prowess. The girl's power. Do you think it mere happenstance that you have such things at your disposal?"
"Well... yeah."
"Even your normal Gifts may be pushed beyond what you perceive as their limitations. All of these are yours to use during what comes. Use them. Command and master them. Sacrifice them, if needed."
"I don't like the sound of that."
"It is not for you to like or dislike... It merely is. My purpose here is not to convince you, it is merely to plant the seeds that will grow in their own time, with or without your conscious agreement. Listen to what I say. Ignore or reject it if you wish. In time, you will either see what needs to be seen and do what needs to be done... or you will fail and damn a great many people along with yourself."
"No pressure there."
"The beast's curse is your gift, Jason, just like the other Gifts. It is keeping you alive even as we speak, just as the others have saved your life in days past. If you waste time and effort trying to be rid of things that were given to you for a reason, you will not only fail, but you will regret your efforts dearly. Just as you will regret leading the girl to think that she is better off NOT using her abilities, when those abilities were placed in your path for YOUR benefit. Not for hers.. You must eschew this foolishness and be about the business of Knighthood."
"Eschew? People actually use that word?"
"These things you hate are your new weapons. Your sword and your shield. You will need them. You must embrace them as they have embraced you."
"Maybe if I knew who the hell you were-"
"I am no one, Mr. Brooks. A pain-induced hallucination, as you said."
"And this 'warning' you've come to give me? I can pretend it never happened, right?"
"You are not likely to remember any of this."
"So what's the point?"
"Do hallucinations have a point?"
"This evil I'm supposed to be fighting... what about that?"
"'Evil' is such a trite word. So meaningless when thrown about by men who've never really seen it. You, Jason Brooks, will see it. You have already seen its signs, but this is not about prophecy. No riddles. No games. It's machinations will rise before you and you will strike them down until they rise no more."
"Sounds simple enough."
"It is simple."
"But how will I KNOW?! If something big is going to happen, you need to tell me-"
"No. I do not. You and your enemies will find each other with no help from me OR you. That is one of your Gifts, after all. My purpose here is to make sure you do not fight unarmed. I have achieved that purpose, I think. And I see that it is time for you to awaken."
"That's it? No clues, no hints? You just tell me to throw my friends into a meat-grinder and leave? Well F#%K YOU then!"
"You wish more?"
"Yeah!"
"Then I'll leave you with one word of advice, Mr. Brooks."
"Yeah?"
"I suggest you grow accustomed to pain."
"What kind of advice is-ARRRRRGGGGGH!!!!"
Jason's eyes tore open, and he gazed up at a perfect sky framed by trees.
He was awake.
He was also screaming. His body felt like it had been stuffed into a speeding blender along with a double-handfull of razor blades.
Only it was happening in reverse.
Fortunately he had missed the worst of it. His body had mostly pulled itself together, leaving Jason to suffer only the agony of his spine un-fracturing and his nerves re-weaving themselves into regenerated tissue. His organs swam around in his torso for several seconds, but compared to his spine, that was nothing. Jason screamed his way through the rest of it and then sat up.
Done.
Done and human... not animal. The beast was tired now. It had done its job and now it wanted to rest.
"...unnnnh..." Jason shook his head and looked around, trying to remember what had just happened.
Brite had torn through him like a freight train through a sheet of wet paper, THAT he remembered. But wasn't there something else? Something AFTER Brite but BEFORE waking up naked in the woods with a pine cone lodged under his left butt-cheek?
Something about a... kitchen?
"Toes," Jason said for no reason. He looked at his toes and counted ten of them. No problem there. "What the hell?"
Jason tugged at the receding strings of memory, but all he got for his efforts was a sudden surge of appetite (Steak. Raw! NOW!) and a vague sensation that he'd forgotten something important... but that it didn't really matter. Yet.
"Donovan," Jason grunted as he stood. "DONOVAN!" He thought and shouted the ghosts name as loud as he could, but there was no answer.
Donovan was busy fighting Brite.
Jason had no idea what made that thought come into his mind... but it did. It came boldly and quite clearly:
Donovan was fighting Brite.
And the ghost was winning.
 rite seemed to hesitate for a moment before he sprang, but when the vampire did move, it was with speed and force. The beast's momentum was enough to tear through a five-foot thick steel wall, but Donovan brought the charging beast to a halt with one swift hand. His palm struck the beast's chest again, and Brite/Goode spat out a fountain of blood as the armored chest shattered from the impact.
The beast staggered backward, yet managed to swipe one clawed hand at the ghost. Donovan floated into the blow... which passed through him without effect... and grabbed the vampire/werebeast's arm before it swung out of reach.
Hands that were not hands, but focused telekineses that had the EFFECT of hands, clamped on Goode's wrist. Immediately, Donovan twisted.
CRACK!
Goode howled as bones splintered. Instinctively the beast pulled away and attacked with its other hand. Donovan ignored the futile gesture and yanked the beast back toward him, grinding the bones in the shattered arm as he did. In the next instant, Donovan was squeezing the monster's throat with one hand. He floated upward, carrying the beast with him. Goode's feet left the ground, relieving the beast of any leverage it may have had. Now it could do nothing but dangle in Donovan's grasp.
Donovan couldn't actually FEEL the metal and flesh yielding beneath his fingers. His telekinetic body had no nerves. Without tactile feedback he had only his eyes to tell him when he was using too much force. He was almost certain that his first blow had killed the beast... and he'd been holding back. He'd been holding back a LOT.
Donovan loosened his artificial grip before he popped the monster's head off of its body like a grape.
"GOODE!" Donovan shouted. He peered through the matted fur and bloody metal shards, seeking his friend's eyes. "Goode, are you in there!?"
"...kk-kkkk..."
A response. Donovan couldn't tell what it meant or who was responding... but it was a response.
"GOODE!"
ShhLING!
Shards of metal sprang away from Goode's body, impaling Donovan through the torso.
Donovan looked down at them with neither pain nor surprise. The knives retracted, rejoining the living scrap yard that had assembled itself on (and in) the werebeast's body. Then they tried again.
SsshLING!
"Remove yourself from him!"
"..k-k-kkkk..."
The metal began to vibrate all over Goode's body. Brite was angry. But he wasn't leaving.
"He's of no use to you! His blood isn't human- Let him go!"
Metal banged and scraped together in Goode's flesh. Blood should have been raining down on the grass below... but Brite was drinking it all before gravity could snatch it way.
The meaning was obvious. Brite may have been a desperate monster, but even in this impossible form, he had the mind of a desperate MAN. He wanted Donovan to let him go, or he would tear Goode's body apart.
"THEN where will you get your blood, eh?" said Donovan. "The children? If I'm strong enough to hold you here so easily, do you think I can't protect them as well? I'm a ghost! No matter how fast YOU are, I can snatch your meals away before you taste so much as a DROP! The blood you taste here will be your last meal."
Metal danced through Goode's body, and the captured beast was too weak to even cry out in agony. Brite was doing it. Brite was killing his hostage, and he was doing it in the most painful way possible... literally shredding his flesh, from the inside out, one inch at a time.
"NO!"
Donovan grabbed a hold of a curved chunk of metal that had formed a an armored plate over Goode's left shoulder. Most of the metal was exposed, but the edges were anchored in the monster's flesh.
Donovan tore it out.
Goode's body convulsed in the double grip... Brite's and Donovan's. Donovan tossed the chunk of vampiric metal away and grabbed another piece. It joined the first on the ground below as Donovan ripped a humming, angry dagger of iron out of Goode's side.
"You can't HAVE him!" Donovan shouted. Something buzzed past Donovan's ear, and the first chunk of metal he'd torn away re-appeared on Goode's shoulder, anchoring itself even deeper than before. By the time Donovan tore it away a second time, the other two were once again ripping into his friend's body.
Donovan glared at the hunk of metal in his imaginary hand. Then, instead of dropping, threw it will all of Ashley's telekinetic strength... straight down. The metal shard whistled through the air and threw up an explosive spray of dirt and rock as it vanished into the earth.
A second piece followed it. Then a third. And a fourth.
Donovan examined the deep, angry wounds the metal shards left when he tore them free. Ordinarily they would have begun healing instantly, but the metal that had created them was not only alive, but had become enchanted by Brite's presence. Blood pumped from the wounds, and the flesh around them appeared almost burnt. They would heal... but it would not be soon. Donovan tore out another shard of metal and buried it in the ground.
"If he dies, he'll die FREE from you!"
Blood sprayed from Goode's toothy snout as the beast half-screamed, half-drooled in agony.
Donovan ripped out yet another sliver of the vampiric metal.
"KKKKKK!"
Goode convulsed, and one of the monster's eyes swiveled in its socket... fixing on Donovan.
"...kill me..." Goode pronounced.
"No!"
"Don't... wimp out on... me! Do it!"
"NO! I'm releasing you!" Donovan snatched more of Brite's metal shell away.
"nnnNNARRRGGH! IT HURTS!"
"You've felt worse!"
"Actually.... I haven't..."
"NOW who's wimping out!"
Flesh tore as more metal came free.
"NNNNNN - FORGET ME! LET ME GO!"
"NO! We're WINNING! With Ashley's power, I can free you and contain Brite long enough-"
"...wrong!" Goode moaned, suddenly weaker. His blood was actually reaching the ground now; the metal in this body wasn't enough to drink it all. But the beast was rapidly bleeding to death. "...you're...wrong..."
"What are you talking about?"
"Not talking... listening. Enhanced senses, remember... I can hear..."
Now both of Goode's eyes focused... not on Donovan, but on something behind him.
Donovan looked, but there was nothing behind him but the empty school.
"I don't see-"
"...in...the ground."
If Donovan were capable of feeling his stomach... if he had one... it would have been turning over rapidly as it sank.
"Moving underground!"
"...yah..."
"DAMMIT!"
Donovan dove downward, depositing Goode on the ground before speeding toward the school. He was three feet off the ground... two feet...one... then everything went black as Donovan sank beneath the dirt. The darkness lasted only long enough for Donovan to remember he didn't have any eyes and adjust his expectations accordingly. He could see in the dark. He could see underground. He could do this because he wasn't actually seeing anything at all.
And there they were. All the shards of metal that he had 'buried' were swimming through the dirt like tiny metal fish. They were several yards below him, spread out, but all going the same direction... toward the school.
Donovan had no idea if the children had made their escape or not. He couldn't risk it. Effortlessly.... for air, water, and earth were the same thing to a ghost... Donovan closed on the nearest piece. Once again he forged his borrowed telekineses into a pair of hands and used them to seize the fleeing fragment.
He pulled.
For an instant, nothing happened. He tried again. The metal fragment came to a halt, but kept tugging against him. Whatever force Brite was using to move himself was strong... especially after the meal that Donovan had interrupted. Moving the living metal against the added resistance of dirt, clay and rock was... not impossible, but quite difficult.
Too difficult. He couldn't catch the other fragments if the first one was weighing him down like an anchor.
But perhaps he was thinking too much like a living man, again.
Donovan spotted the next wayward fragment and reached for it. It was over thirty feet way, but Donovan imagined his arm stretching out toward it. He imagined himself grabbing it... and he did. Then, gathering more of his 'strength', he pulled it toward him-
" SHLEY!" Soloman dove for his daughter, but he was too late. Whatever she was doing was already done by the time he reached her. The imaginary remote fell from her hand, and the imaginary television began to blink on and off as Ashley's focus shuddered.
And the house shuddered with it. All of the windows and doors flung themselves open, and a gust of icy gale wailed through the wide-open house like an arctic whirlwind. With it came the dry, dusty scent of time and emptiness. At the first hint of the scent, Soloman knew immediately what Ashley had done.
"NO!" he screamed. He caught Ashley as she fell and guided her to the floor. He knelt beside her and cradled her head in his hand. "He's DEAD, Ashley! You can't!"
Ashley's eyes remained open, but they were staring into the blank space beyond Soloman's face. The girl exhaled a long, weak wheeze.
"Sharing power with the living is dangerous enough, but the dead-"
"...you'd better go..." Ashley's lips moved, but the voice seemed to be coming from somewhere much further away.
"Ashley, you have to STOP this! Break the connection before it's too late!"
"I can't," said Ashley. "He has to... he has to save those people."
"BUT IT WILL KILL YOU!"
"... that's why you should go. You don't want to be in my mind when... it happens."
"I'm not going ANYWHERE! You must stop this at once! I'm ORDERING YOU to stop this RIGHT NOW!"
"...sorry.... I can't..."
"Dammit, we'll SEE about that!" Soloman lowered Ashley's head and turned to one side. "BOOK!"
Soloman's book of spells appeared beside him like a loyal pet. It was a large, unwieldy thing of leather and parchment and more pages than could be easily counted. Soloman opened it somewhere in the middle as he thought aloud:
"Show me how to stop this!"
Shapes began to appear on the blank pages. Words, symbols and diagrams in language that never existed on earth, but which Soloman knew intimately. But the instant Soloman began to read them, they vanished.
The pages were blank once more.
And then two words appeared... in English... one on each page. On the left hand page was the word "NO" in bold, feminine script. Opposite it was the word "DAD" .
Then, just under the word on the second page, a third word appeared. It was smaller, and the ink was faint... as if the hand writing it barely had enough strength to press the pen to the page:
"please."
Soloman's heart sank. He looked at Ashley's face and saw that it was as pale as the moon. And growing paler. It was taking her. She had reached out with her power and touched death... had GIVEN death control over it... and now it was taking her.
"...get out..."
Her lips weren't moving. The words didn't just SEEM to be coming from somewhere else, they were coming from somewhere else. From a cold place where the wind reeked of dust and emptiness.
Soloman heard what sounded like the beginning of a lightning strike. But the crack was too soft and too close. The imaginary house shook. And shook again. The massive wooden beams in the walls began to snap one at a time as the house twisted off of its foundation. Outside, the wind howled impatiently as it tried to push more of itself in through the windows. The walls around the doors and windows bulged inward as tornadic winds blew on the house from every direction.
The house was going. And the house was Ashley's soul.
"...save yourself..."
"I said NO! I won't LET you!"
"...can't... stop it..."
"I wasn't talking to you, Ashley."
Soloman stood, and the horrified look on his face turned to one of stern anger.
Soloman marched toward the stairs leading to the second floor. The winding staircase swayed and rattled as he stormed upward. At the top, he turned and looked down the impossibly long hallway. There were doors on either side. All of them were open. They all lead to the same place.
The light that poured through them was... beautiful.
Soloman pointed, not at any door in particular, but at the hallway as a whole.
"YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" He shouted. "SHE DOESN'T KNOW THE RULES! SHE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WAS DOING!"
The house cracked, and the floor beneath Soloman's shoes shifted violently. The entire structure swooned...
"ARE YOU TRYING TO TEACH ME A LESSON!? IS THAT IT!? THIS IS MY FAULT! I SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT HER! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE TO TEACH HER THE LIMITS! THE CONSEQUENCES! BUT I WASN'T, SO SHE DOESN'T KNOW THEM! SO... SO TAKE ME INSTEAD!"
Soloman stood before the nearest door and shouted into the light.
"TAKE ME!"
Something in the house gave way with an evil wrenching sound. The floor began to move... not shuddering back and forth, but slooooowly tilting toward one side...
"TAKE ME!" Soloman cried. The wind howled around him, and he had to struggle to keep his balance. The wind was death it rampaged through the mansion like a charging bull.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! SHE DIDN'T KNOW!" Soloman was pleading now. "IF THERE'S A SACRIFICE TO BE MADE, THEN LET ME-"
The house shook again... and it didn't stop. The floor was now at a 12-degree angle and still moving.
The anger returned to the magician's voice.
"DAMMIT! SO HELP ME, IF YOU TAKE HER FROM ME... IF YOU TAKE HER LIKE THIS THEN I SWEAR-"
The sound! The sound!
Something... some unimaginable SOUND that may have been a voice of thunder pronouncing the word "FOOL"... or may have been wordless rejection of Soloman's plea... SOMETHING snatched the anger out of Soloman's voice as well as what little balance he had remaining in his legs. Soloman reached for the door as he fell, but the door swung juuuuust out of reach, and the magician hit the tilted floor and rolled back toward the staircase.
The staircase snapped away and collapsed the instant before he reached it. Soloman's uncontrolled and undignified exit from the hall launched him into nothingness, with only the illusion of gravity to greet him. He fell-
-but managed to land on his feet. It was, after all, still only an IMAGINARY fall. He ran to Ashley and resumed his place at her side, cradling her head in his hands.
"Ashley," he said. "Ashley, listen to me..."
"Dad, go..." she pleaded from oh-so-far away.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said to her white, motionless face. "And neither are you." Soloman gently shifted positions so that he was sitting down, with her head resting in his lap. Around them, the house of Ashley's soul began to implode. "At least.... not alone."
" O!" Sebastian shouted as he leapt down from the truck. His eyes fixed on the small convoy of vehicles leaving the day-care center parking lot across the street. He judged their level of panic and quickly realized that Brite had not yet made its appearance. Either Ashley had misjudged the vampire's speed, or Donovan had found a way to slow the monster down. Either way, the building was now empty of potential meals, and the parking lot would be likewise barren by the time the current minute was up. Brite could follow them, of course... and probably catch them easily.
But that's what Sebastian was here to prevent.
And, God help him, he knew exactly how to do it.
"GO!" He shouted again, turning to Marilyn. She'd come out of the truck and joined him on the street. Ashley was still inside. "Get her to the hospital!"
"What are you gonna do?" the detective asked.
"It's now for you to know," Sebastian snapped. "Or see. Get her out of here now!"
Sebastian slung his backpack over one shoulder and darted toward the school. Several of the adults in the rapidly departing crowd turned to look at him, but he ignored them.
Behind him, Dobbs climbed back into the truck.
"What the F#@*!?" she swore. With good reason.
Ashley wasn't there.
"he things I find myself doing these days," Detective James Royce sighed. He looked down at the girl in his arms. One arm was human, the other not. He blew a breath of foul air across the girl's face.
Ashley didn't respond. In fact, she looked like she was a few minutes away from never responding to anything else again. Royce had examined her wound when he'd snatched her from the truck. It wasn't immediately fatal, but the girl's skull was fractured and there was a definite possibility of brain damage. His employers did not want that. If they were watching right now... and it was a better than even chance that they were... then they'd already be planning some extraordinarily painful (and terminal) punishment for him if the girl died. It would be completely undeserved, of course. After all, they didn't tell him they wanted the girl on their side until AFTER he'd shot her, but that wouldn't stop them from feeding him his own intestines in retribution for screwing up.
"Fortunately for you," he said to the unconscious psychic. "...and for me... I've got an ace. We're going on a little trip, girlie. Somebody I want ya to meet. Although... I do believe this won't be the first time..."
Having slipped slightly out of phase with reality, Royce had been an invisible hitchhiker on the back of the truck all the way to town. When the kid and Dobbs... ahh, now THERE was some potential!... had gotten out, Royce had dropped back into phase, grabbed Ashley, and popped back into safe-mode again. Now he was carrying her through the not-yet deserted streets, on the way to a certain alley between two specific buildings.
The alley ended in a brick wall.
Blind alleys weren't typical for this part of town, yet the recent city beautification efforts had left this unsightly anomaly untouched. There may have been a reason for that omission. And, if there was, Royce figured that he could guess what it was in one try.
He lay the girl on the dirty (filthy, actually) concrete at the end of the alley, taking extra care with her extra-valuable head. Then he stood in front of the way and began to trace symbols on the brick wall with his finger.
There was an odd shift in the air. The wall began to change, warping and moving along a set of unexpected dimensions until, where there had once been a brick wall, there was now a brick-lipped mouth framing a large black throat. A gaping maw through which darkness, heat, screams, and sulphur rolled into the alley like a wet, creeping fog.
Royce picked up the girl and stepped forward, smiling almost giddily as he crossed the screaming threshold.
"Hello doc!" he shouted into the void with genuine, if sadistic, glee. The void screamed back at him with unintelligible gibbering. "Oh, that's no way to greet your pal, doc! And look here, I brought you a patient! No funny stuff now..."
 t took a bit of trial and error, but learning to use Ashley's power was remarkably easy. All it required was proper focus.
Donovan reached out with his mind and closed his (imaginary) fist around the final fragment. His mind was simultaneously clutching the shards that he'd already gathered, holding them still against the steady pull of whatever force Brite used to move them. With his final treasure in hand, Donovan shot straight up, erupting from the earth with a spray of dirt and rock that did not come from his intangible body, but from the hungry cargo he carried with him. Ghosts could move through the ground unimpeded, but metal could not... especially when that metal was trying very hard to go anywhere BUT up.
The first sound that greeted him was Goode rain in pain and rage. Donovan had been in the ground for only a few seconds, and in that time Goode and the rest of Brite had been engaged in a battle for control over the beast's bleeding, ruined form.
Donovan saw Goode tear a large shard of metal out of his torso and hold it aloft. The dagger of shrapnel trembled in the beast's hands as it tried to plunge back into his flesh.
The trembling quickly spread to Goode's arms...
And then the beast's strength failed. Metal met flesh with a wet, meaty sound.
Goode howled. He was already on his knees, and for a moment the beast swayed...
...then the gnarled bloody hands wrapped around yet another shard and slowly drew it out.
"...rrRRRRRRRGH!"
It came free!
-and then plunged back in again almost immediately. It took only a glance for Donovan to see that this grotesque ballet of bloody pain had been going on the entire time he'd been gone. Goode was fighting.
But Goode was also loosing.
The beast slumped forward, but caught itself with one arm. The bestial head raised to look at Donovan.
"I'm losing," Goode said, stating the obvious. "He's... bleeding me dry, I can't... stay... awake..."
"HANG ON!" Still holding the shards that had almost escaped, Donovan flew toward his friend-
-and suddenly, the power was gone. There was no weakening, no waning, no warning... just a blink, like a light being turned off. And Ashley's power was gone.
"WHA-" Donovan began. With no power to hold them back, the shards that Donovan had been carrying flew from his ghostly hands like meat cleavers set loose in a tornado.
Goode saw them coming.... blinked once... and then managed an:
"Oh, shi-"
Before the flying shrapnel turned his torso into an even bloodier mess than they already were. The impact was enough to flip him over onto his back...
...where he lay motionless as Brite fed.
"GOODE!" Donovan floated over his friend, watching as blood vanished from the wounds. "Ashley, what happened!?"
Ashley's thoughts had touched his mind only for an instant... just long enough to connect his mind with her power... before retreating. Donovan scanned his own thoughts, searching for some glimmer of another connection. There was none. The connection was broken, and she either would not or could not come forward to renew it. Donovan was on his own, again.
"Goode, are you there?! Can you-"
The beast responded with a breath. Not a mighty gasp, but sickly wheeze that gurgled with blood.
Then Goode twitched... and stood up. Silently the beast moved past Donovan, and the ghost knew that Goode wasn't in control. Goode wasn't even moving under his own power, but was instead being pushed and pulled along in a semblance of walking by the metal that riddled his body. He was a supernatural cyborg, with the machine controlling the flesh. FEEDING off of the flesh.
Donovan darted in front of the abomination.
"STOP!" he demanded
Brite stopped... for only a moment. The vampire continued on, passing through Donovan with no further reaction. It was heading for the school once more, and Donovan swore he could almost hear the beast laughing at him.
"H!"
Soloman jerked upright in the chair, his eyes opening so fast and so wide that they actually hurt.
"GAH!!" He gasped. He turned back and forth in the chair, searching the room for-
-for what?
What had just happened?
Why was he back here?
"Ashley..." he whispered. He'd been with her. She'd reached out and touched death... and in doing so, had allowed death to touch her. He'd been there when she started to...
...no. No, that wasn't what happened. Not at the end. At the end, there had been something ELSE. Not, death, but something altogether different. Soloman had only gotten a faint hint of it before his connection with his daughter was suddenly and unceremoniously severed.
Soloman didn't like that hint. He didn't like it at all.
"Demons!" Soloman hissed. He threw the door open and stepped out into the afternoon air. "Damn you, Donovan! It's not enough that you almost get her killed! It's not enough that she gives her LIFE for you! But THIS!?!"
But Donovan wasn't there. He was somewhere else... probably wondering where all of his newfound power had disappeared to. Had he even NOTICED that Ashley was gone? Did the rest of them even CARE?
Soloman glanced at his car, then shook his head. That wasn't good enough.
The sun was bright. There was a slight breeze in the air.
This was perfect weather for flying.
rite laughed.
The laugh was brief and silent, but Brite couldn't help but THINK about laughter as he stepped through Donovan and continued toward his meal. The display of power that had, at first, actually frightened the vampire was now over. The ghost's stamina had faltered, and Donovan had returned to the realm of the powerless. And now that the ghost's interference was no more....
...NOW there would be blood. Brite's hunger throbbed in his jumbled thoughts like a beating heart. Trifling with the ghost had expended a much of his energy, and the beast's struggles had weakened it almost to the point of death. He had hoped to ride this meal all the way to the sea, and possibly beyond... but now the beast wouldn't last another hour. He needed food. And there was food nearby.
Brite knew the building was empty when he smashed through the rear wall. The scent of blood and sweat lingered heavily in the air, but it was a mere echo of the meal that had escaped him. Beyond these walls, however...
Yes!
The vampire lumbered through the interior walls, smashing them down as if they were paper. His pace was slow and measured at first, but as he approached the front wall his march became a charge.
With the shattering of glass and the snapping of wood, Brite stormed into the parking lot. Each thundering step sent cracks and furrows radiating across the asphalt. The children were gone, but the scent was still strong! Food was HERE!
Brite didn't pause. As soon as he spotted the foolish boy the vampire doubled his speed, turning his charge into a stampede.
Directly in front of him, Sebastian drew his sword.
he sight of it would have made a lesser man falter.
But there was no faltering in him. Not a flinch. Not a tremor.
Sebastian had not only seen worse, he had personally slaughtered beings that could crush this puny thing with one cloven, flaming hoof. He'd not only slaughtered them; he had slaughtered them WELL.
So as the ground rattled more violently with each of Brite's approaching footsteps, Sebastian's entire being... his soul (or what remained of it)... drew in on itself, narrowing to a single deadly point. There was no room for fear. No space for mercy. The last thought to flee Sebastian's mind before he became one with this sword was an unspoken apology to the friend he was about to kill.
After that, everything became steel and motion.
Sebastian went from a solid ready stance to a full run in the blink of an eye. He ran toward the monster(s), veering to his left at one foot outside Brite's reach. Brite twisted and swung at him. Sebastian felt the wind from the clumsy attack, but wasted no attention on it.
He stopped suddenly, boots gripping the cracked asphalt.
Brite was already lunging at the place where Sebastian would have been, leaving its flank open in the process.
The sword struck. Flesh split before the razor's edge... and flesh burned and blackened in the wound that was left behind.
There was silver in the blade. The wound was deep and ugly. It would have been death to a human body, but it would take more than that to kill this old friend, especially with a full moon so close. This had only been a test.
Brite turned and counterattacked... but not as quickly as he would have had he actually FELT Goode's flesh being sliced open.
The question was answered. Brite felt none of Goode's pain, and Sebastian's job became infinitely easier. He'd suspected that the connection between Brite and Goode was weak, but if the vampire was merely using Goode as a puppet, then Brite's movements and reactions would be impaired.
Sebastian adjusted his strategy accordingly.
Brite moved as if to grab him. The creature was fast for its size, especially considering it was literally dragging Goode's bulk behind it with every motion. Sebastian easily avoided the reach, but Brite had other ideas. Shards of metal rearranged themselves on the monster's fist to form sharp claws, extending Brite's reach by several inches just as Sebastian dodged.
Sebastian spun and slashed-
Metal-clad fingers tumbled to the ground. There was no roar of surprise or pain from the maimed monster, just the clink of metal as it slipped over the wounds to suck up the jetting blood. Brite kept attacking, undaunted and unconcerned about the loss of Goode's flesh. As Goode's fingers hit the asphalt, a four-foot shaft of metal burst from the beast's right forearm and anchored itself in Goode's bone and muscle.
The vampire now had a sword of its own.
He thrust... a powerful impaling blow. Sebastian got his own weapon up in just enough time to deflect it.
The 'swords' crossed. For an instant Sebastian looked into Goode's face... not into the closed, twitching eyes, but at the metal that had arranged itself around his friend's features like a medieval torture mask.
Brite looked back at him. Somehow.
If Brite had had the physical ability to smile, he would have. Even tormented by pain and hunger, the vampire knew that THIS was how fighting was done.
"Let us be about it, then," Sebastian snarled over the crossed blades.
There was no roar. No shout. No signal that mortal combat was to begin. It was by silent mutual agreement that the fighters slid apart and threw themselves at each other, blades swinging with force and fury. Brite had the force. Sebastian, the fury.
An ordinary swordsman would have been undone in an instant. Brite was immortal. The vampire felt no pain and would never tire as long as he had blood... even the tainted, semi-human blood of a werebeast. And in the days when he had been a man, Lord Brighton had been not a mere soldier or swordsman, but a grand master ... a professional duelist... a teacher and killer of those who would call themselves masters of the blade. Sebastian was... Sebastian.
Metal rang out as he pushed his advantage... smaller size and quicker movements... to their limits. Now nothing more than a collection of metal leaches anchored in stolen flesh, Brite was nowhere near his former skill. But he was close enough to be deadly. Sebastian went on the defensive, dodging most of Brite's attacks and blocking those that couldn't be avoided. He made no attacks or counterattacks of his own... mostly because they would have been meaningless. Small and moderate wounds would neither weaken or distract his opponent. The only wounds that mattered are those precious few that would actually KILL a werebeast: multiple fatal blows to the heart and the brain. And since Goode was already near death, all it would take would be an additional strike to either target. To that end, Sebastian played the disadvantaged opponent... letting Brite think that he was winning. The vampire was cocky. Against an equal opponent... like Donovan... Brite's swordsmanship was impeccable. But when the advantage was great he grew lax and careless. He would make mistakes. He was already making mistakes. Sebastian ignored the small openings and began to back away, pretending to let Brite chase him backward. Brite pressed him hard, using his 'sword' to batter Sebastian with relentless attacks... yet never quite coming close enough to draw blood. Sebastian dodged, darted, and spun wildly to avoid the blows. He pretended to attack, but always abandoned his offensive maneuvers as soon as Brite made a move to counter them. If Brite could talk, the vampire would be taunting him nonstop. Sebastian didn't care. Brite may have had every advantage in the world over a mere human, but he still had the same incredible weakness:
He wasn't too smart.
As long as they both kept fighting... as long as he managed to LOOK weaker and more desperate than he actually WAS... as long as Brite continued to fight like a MAN and not the thing that he really was... then everything was going according to plan.
Brite charged. Sebastian had already let himself be chased across the street. Now he hopped onto the sidewalk and glanced around quickly, as if looking for a place to hide.
Then he turned and ran.
He made three steps before the ground leapt up beneath him and slammed back down again. Sebastian appeared to be abandoning the fight, and Brite reacted by putting his foot down -literally. By itself, Goode's body had enough strength to easily shatter concrete with a single stomp of a foot. Augmented by living metal, Goode's legs were giant thundering pistons that moved without regard to their own structural integrity.
Nearby windows shattered from the impact as chasms radiated outward from the crater beneath by Brite/Goode's foot. Street lights lining the street leaned precariously, and the closest one fell over entirely, shattering against the fractured concrete.
The shockwave threw Sebastian off balance. He could have corrected his stride easily, but instead he used it as an excuse to fall without having to make it look good. He relaxed his grip by a carefully calculated amount as he fell, allowing the weapon to fly from his hand and land outside of immediate reach... but only by less than an inch. He rolled onto his back just as Brite, convinced that he had beaten his prey into submission, moved in for the kill.
Sebastian reached for his sword as the vampire sprang-
And with his OTHER hand, he snuck the silver-plated dagger from the sheath on his leg. Brite wasn't smart, but he wasn't enough of a fool to fall for a 'reach for the sword at the last moment' trick. If Brite wanted to keep Goode alive, the metal fragments around the beast's heart would shift at the moment of impact, shielding the vital organ.
But a dagger... a dagger that Brite had never SEEN before... thrust upward through the jaw and into the brain-
Brite would never see it coming, and Goode would never feel a thing. All Sebastian had to do was keep from getting shredded in the process.
At least that was the plan.
But the instant before Brite made his move, the plan changed.
Sebastian caught a movement in his peripheral vision. Something fast.
Before he or Brite could react, Jason Brooks was standing between them with a gun in one hand and claws jutting from the other.
"BACK OFF!" Brooks snarled at the vampire.
His exquisitely executed plan now ruined, Sebastian just shook his head and sighed.
" uh?"
Ashley opened her eyes and found herself looking up at the sky.
A perfectly ordinary, normal sky.
She blinked. The sky was still there.
She looked around and found, to her confusion, that she was in a blind alley that ended in a brick wall. And she was alone.
But just before she'd opened her eyes... in the instants leading up to full consciousness... she could have SWORN someone had been talking to her.
Ashley took a deep breath and sat up. Her head throbbed painfully, but it was more of a 'mild migraine' throb than a 'some fool shot me in the head' throb. She tried to blink away the dizziness and discovered that rapidly closing and opening her eyes made her nauseous.
"What the hell happened?" she moaned. She searched her scalp for the wound that was supposed to be there. She found only drying blood. There was blood on her shirt and in her hair, but no wound... gunshot or otherwise. "Okay..."
Ashley stood. The alley spun around her for a few seconds, then settled into a random swaying motion that persisted as she lumbered toward the street. She took only a few steps and decided to stop and lean against the wall before she fell and cracked her skull open again.
She tried to recall the events leading up to her opening her eyes in a strange alley, but her mind wouldn't cooperate. The last thing she remembered was...
...Donovan. Donovan and Brite. And her father. She had done something to help Donovan. Her father tried to stop her, and then everything went hazy.
And it was a bad kind of hazy. Ashley was quite certain that something extremely important had happened that she had no memory of whatsoever. She wasn't bleeding to death any more, but she knew full well that there were worse things that could happen.
...worse things...
"The kids!"
Ashley started out of the alley again. The dizziness was fading, but it was taking its own sweet time doing so. By the time she got to the street she was barely upright.
The school parking lot looked empty. It was hard to tell from two blocks away, but there didn't APPEAR to have been any kind of bloodbath. The school itself looked like it had been run through by a truck. Someone had to go and make sure everyone made it out-
-but two blocks was a loooooong walk for someone who could barely stand.
A sound drew her attention to something a bit further away. Metal against metal... Sebastian!
Sebastian and Brite were fighting, and it looked like Sebastian was losing!
"Oh no you don't..." Ashley limped down the street toward them, then quickly realized that she wasn't going to make it any time that year. Instead she pushed the pain to a far corner of her mind and began gathering her strength.
"Please work..." she whispered to herself. "Don't screw with me this time."
She felt the familiar and frightening surge of power fill her mind... fill it to the point that it began to spill out into the physical space around her. She seized the power... forged it...
There was so much!
Oh YES! This was going to be EXTRAORDINARY!
One delicate but bloody hand reached out; fingers pointed at Brite. The fingers stiffened... trembled...
"Welcome to orbit, you sonofa-"
"STOP RIGHT NOW!"
The shout came as a double assault, stabbing both her ears and her thoughts. Her concentration scattered, and the previous throbbing pain returned with a vengeance.
Ashley swooned and fell backward.
Soloman caught her.
"I'm sorry, Ashley," he said as he clapped one hand over her forehead. "I won't let you die for them. I can't. Ena-"
Soloman spoke a single syllable of the spell that would have locked Ashley away in her own mind...
...but Ashley would have no part of that. At the barest hint of power from her father, Ashley's instincts responded with a telepathic railroad spike to the cerebral cortex.
"AGGH!" Now it was Soloman's turn to stagger drunkenly down the alley, grabbing at his throbbing skull.
Ashley hit the ground, but she was on her feet a second later. She squinted at the half-dozen Solomans until they resolved into three... then just one.
"Back off," she hissed.
Soloman wiped at his nose and smeared a thin line of blood across his face. Ashley had a nearly identical line of red oozing from her left nostril.
"You could have KILLED me!" Soloman said, shocked.
"You had defenses. If I'd responded with anything less than lethal force it wouldn't have gotten through. That's how this works and you know it."
"I wasn't trying to hurt you; I was trying to keep you from hurting yourself!"
"We don't have time for this, Dad. This isn't the astral plane and there's no screwing around with time here. Real life. Real time. Sebastian's gonna die if I don't stop Brite right now! Try to stop me again and I lobotomize you."
Ashley turned and pointed across the distance at Brite.
Nothing happened. The considerable power she had been about to wield mere seconds ago was gone.
"Not working, is it?" Soloman whispered a he came up behind her. "Your gifts weren't meant to be used for violence, Ashley. The price for even attempting is-"
"It was GOING to work before you interrupted me!" Ashley turned to face her father.
"Maybe. But the two certainties here are that you will never master it, and it WILL kill you if you continue the way you're going. I can teach you a different way-"
"TEACH?! Whatever you have to teach me is MEANINGLESS if everybody DIES! Right now Sebastian is the only thing standing between Brite and the rest of the city. Brite's gonna KILL him! And after that he's gonna keep ON killing until somebody with some serious POWER stops him! And if nobody does, the bad guys win and a lot of people die, starting with SEBASTIAN!"
"Power is not the answer. Not our kind of power, anyway-"
"THERE YOU ARE!" Detective Dobbs hobbled up behind them. "I've been limping around looking-"
"Not NOW!" Ashley waved her hand and Marilyn froze in mid-sentence, becoming a flesh-and-blood statue in the street.
"SEE!" Said Soloman. "THAT'S what I'm talking about!"
"I HAD to!"
"And you will ALWAYS have to if you continue this senseless crusade!"
"Crusade? You mean fighting demons that are trying to kill and corrupt people!?"
"The battle of good and evil is meant to be fought within the human heart... within the soul! Fighting it with external force only corrupts the very people who-"
"Are you even PAYING ATTENTION!? That isn't a SOUL out there tearing up the street. It's a VAMPIRE! Umm... vampire werewolf... thing! My powers aren't acting right-"
"Because you misuse them constantly."
"FINE, I misuse them! I'm SORRY! But somebody has to STOP THIS NOW!"
The ground shook. At their distance the shockwave was a mere shudder, but it was enough to turn their attention back to the street.
Sebastian was down.
"DON'T LET HIM DIE!" Ashley begged her father.
Soloman looked at her for a second, and then spoke very softly.
"If I do this... you will listen to me. You will come with me."
"I'll come with you! I'll come with you and you can teach me whatever you want! I'll listen to you! I SWEAR!"
"A deal."
"YES! Now, PLEASE-"
"This will be your first lesson. Watch me now. Pay close attention and learn how victory need not be synonymous with violence."
And with those words, Soloman stepped out onto the street.
t was a heroic effort.
In his current state, Jason was virtually unkillable by anything EXCEPT the monster directly in front of him-
-but there he was. And, as far as Jason could tell, he'd arrived just in time.
"SEBASTIAN, RUN! I GOT-"
Brite had no appreciation for heroics.
Jason had no blood that could feed the vampire, and no power strong enough to give the vampire reason for concern. So, in the second that it took for Jason to turn and shout at Sebastian, Brite snatched up the downed streetlight pole beside him and swung it. What Jason 'got' then was a bone-crushing smack that sent him literally flying into a woman's clothing store and out the other side of the building.
Sebastian had seen this coming, of course, but by the time the vampire turned its attention back to him, Sebastian was up and running, sword in hand. The mission had -temporarily- changed from removing Brite's host to getting out of the immediate vicinity as quickly as possible... preferably before Brite made too many more fast movements.
Sebastian had smelled gas seeping up from the demolished sidewalk.
Brite's petulant foot-stomp had ruptured a gas line, and with metal fragments scraping together any time the vampire moved, sooner or later there was going to be-
BOOOM!
This time, the wave of force and heat threw Sebastian several feet before dropping him to the asphalt. Years of training allowed him to keep his sword and not impale himself with it during the impact. He rolled to his feet and took a quick pain-inventory. Nothing was broken. He wasn't on fire. Everything else could wait.
Brite/Goode hadn't fared as well. The vampire had been at the center of the explosion when it occurred, so the force had thrown him straight up into the air...
... and right back down into the pillar of fire that was pouring from the crater in the sidewalk like an oversized blowtorch.
Sebastian saw him when he landed, and immediately started running again, back the way he'd just come. Brite couldn't be stunned in his current form, but he'd be disoriented for a few seconds and, most importantly, NOT expecting someone to come leaping through a tower of flames just to stab him in the head.
Avoiding Brite's blood-hunting fragments once they vacated Goode's corpse was a problem he'd deal with when it came up. Maybe Jason could help... but Sebastian wasn't counting on it.
Sebastian gripped his sword and sprinted as fast as he could-
-which wasn't anywhere near as fast as Jason Brooks. Brooks came vaulting off of a rooftop in a flying leap, heading claws-first for the flaming vampire.
"SILVER!" Jason shouted.
In a move taught to him by his father, Sebastian went from a sprint to a running throw, tossing his weapon through the air.
"HEAD OR HEART!" He shouted back.
Jason snagged the weapon as he descended. He twisted in the air and brought the sword down in an arc toward the back of the beast's head.
Ahhhh Perfection!
And then everything went to hell. Again.
There was a flash, and Jason was recoiling backward through the smoke. The sword flew in one direction and Jason tumbled in another. Brite rose from the suddenly non-flaming crater, but instead of going after either Jason or Sebastian, he turned to the man who had appeared beside him.
"Greetings," said Soloman, giving a slight bow. "My name is-"
Brite attacked.
Or he TRIED to attack.
But beyond standing up and turning to face his new meal, Brite found himself totally immobile.
"WHO THE HELL ARE-!" Jason yelled.
"Shhhh..." Soloman put one finger to his lips while gesturing with his other hand. A white sphere that looked almost like paper appeared around him and the monster he'd just saved.
All sounds originating outside the sphere vanished, leaving the man and the monster alone and undisturbed inside.
"'m casting a modified spell of translation," Soloman said calmly. He gestured, and his fingers left glowing trails in the air between him and Brite. "It will allow us to understand each other..."
"BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOOD..."
"Well that's a start. My name is Soloman."
"...BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOOD..."
"And I'm here to help. I have immobilized you, but I think we both realize why that's necessary, don't we?"
Brite's single-syllable barrage stopped.
"...wizard!"
"Yes, I am. And I'm here to help you... but only if you will help me. I must be honest with you, I have my own interests at stake here. That body you're currently feeding on, for instance. He's a friend of mine."
"HELP ME OR I'LL KILL HIM!"
"You're already killing him. Surely you know that he's dying? He won't last another hour... if that long. What possible good will he be to you then? Why not release him now-"
"NO!"
"But you haven't listened to what I have to offer yet."
Brite had no eyes of his own, yet still managed to glare at Soloman. The metal bits imbedded in Goode's body shifted, grinding against one another to produce a maddening squeal...
...which Soloman's magic translated perfectly.
"...help me... please... the pain... I need... BLOOD!"
"I can't do that."
What came next was an untranslatable roar of frustration.
"But blood is just a means to an end, is it not? What is it that you need the blood FOR?"
"PAIN! ...power..."
"Power to do what? Surely this rampage has a purpose beyond mere chaos."
"...heal me... HEAL ME, WIZARD!!!"
"I can't."
"...then... END THIS! Kill me!"
"I won't."
"THEN YOU ARE OF NO USE TO ME! THE MAN-BEAST DIES!"
"Your goddess can save you, can she not?"
There was a long pause.
"You... know of her?"
"That's the point of all this, isn't it? Trying to get back to HER, so she can help you?"
An untranslatable sound that resembled a sigh.
"You won't make it."
"I WILL!"
"Goode's blood will abandon you within the hour, and you won't find another like him on this continent. Goode himself made sure of that. So then what? You'll kill your way across the country?"
"YES!"
"No, you won't. Oh you'll try, I'm sure. But the Knights will stop you. Even if you kill this one, there are others. There are ALWAYS others. They'll hound your every step, make you waste your precious energy fighting them instead of getting closer to your goal. Think back on all the trouble you've had just going this small distance. All the pain you've endured. What has that been... a few miles? A few hours? Do you think you can endure that for the MONTHS it will take to reach the coast? And what then? What happens when you reach the sea? What happens when you're at the bottom of the ocean and your power runs out? What will you do then?"
Brite was ominously silent.
"Clearly you are in need. I understand that. But your need is so great that it has overshadowed your reasoning. You may feel that you can slaughter your way from here all the way to your goddess... but you cannot. It's simply not possible. It cannot be done, no matter how powerful you are. I know you want to TRY..."
The sounds that came now were a pitiful metallic mewling.
"...tell me... what to do."
"Let my friend go. Let him go and I will send you to her. Release him, and you'll be in her presence in less time than it has taken to have this conversation."
"...trust you?"
"Do you have a choice?"
Silence.
"The bottom of the ocean," Soloman said almost hypnotically. "Frozen. Alone. Just you and the pain you've fought so hard to be free of... forever. For-ev-er."
"Who... are you?" said Brite.
"Soloman-"
"No! WHO ARE YOU! WHY help me!?"
"Because you have something I want," Soloman replied. "It's as simple as that. I'm not here to judge or condemn you. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to stop the fighting and save my friend. The only way I can do that is to help you, regardless of what you are or how I feel about your... deeds."
Brite thought. And thought again. All in silence.
"Release my friend so that I can help you."
"I... cannot..."
"Why? Because you're frightened? Because you think I will betray you? Why would I do that? Why would you THINK I would do that? Perhaps because it's what YOU would do? But I'm not like you. I'm not like Donovan, either. If Donovan had my power he would rip you from Goode's body and deposit you in the nearest volcano. If he had my DAUGHTER'S power, you would be in orbit at this very moment. But I am not him. I won't do those things because they are not my nature. Instead, I'll help you... because that IS in my nature."
"...words... only words..."
"And the more words I must speak to convince you, the weaker my friend becomes. The more pain you must endure. Why not just trust me now?"
"I..." Brite started. Then he stopped.
Then...
" AAAA!!!" Jason... now dressed in a conservatively styled woman's leather coat (price tags still attached)... scratched at the paper-thin wall separating him and Sebastian from Goode and Soloman. Supernaturally strong claws did nothing to what Sebastian insisted was a magical barrier. "What the hell is your friend DOING IN THERE!"
"Meddling," said Donovan. "And he's no longer my friend."
"Do something! Donovan-"
"I can't pass the barrier."
"Ashley-"
"If I try my head will explode. Or at least it feels that way."
"DAMMIT I want to kill something!" Jason snarled and looked around.
"Time is wasting," said Sebastian. He squinted at the sky. "We need to have you contained before nightfall."
"Oh come ON!" Jason protested. "I'm not going to-"
The 'bubble' before them began to glow with a harsh eletric-blue light. As the glow brightened, the sphere contracted.
Soloman stepped out of the ball of light as the it shrank and rose into the air... leaving Dr. Goode's body on the street below. Goode was a bloody mess, but he was breathing. And without the metal to keep them open, his wounds were already trying to close. They weren't succeeding just yet, but they would be soon.
"He's free!" said Ashley.
"And alive," Soloman added. "And all it took was a simple conversation." He waved his hand toward the sky and the glowing, hovering sphere shot upward... gaining speed almost exponentially as it vanished in the clouds.
"WAIT A MINUTE!" Jason pointed after the sphere. "TELL me that was Brite's soul on its way to a boiler room in east hell!"
"To the Atlantic, actually."
"WHAT!?" The word came from several sets of lips simultaneously.
"He seeks audience with Zethresta," said Soloman. "That's all he wanted. That's what all of this was about. I gave it to him in exchange for Goode's life."
"Ze-who?" said Ashley.
"Vampire goddess," Donovan explained through clenched and still ghostly teeth. "At the bottom of the Atlantic, where Brite encountered her the FIRST time. He wants to be restored... made whole."
"And somehow I don't think he means the 'fully human' kind of whole, either," said Jason. "He wasn't to be a regular vampire again."
"In all likelihood Zethresta will kill him for his weakness," Soloman said with a dismissing wave. "And I'm sure he knows this."
"And if she doesn't?" said Donovan. "If she restores him to what he was? What THEN? I'll TELL you what then, you meddling pacifist FOOL... we watch the news one day and find out some ship has washed ashore with all its crewman slaughtered. Then the killings on LAND will start. Then we'll have to hunt this creature down and start this madness ALL OVER AGAIN! Because of YOU!"
"I didn't expect you to thank me," said Soloman.
"Thank? THANK!? THANK!!?"
"You said you were going to HELP!" said Ashley. "That's not helping! That's just making it somebody else's problem!"
"...where's my gun..." Jason muttered.
"Donovan, you know where I stand on what you do. I only involved myself for Ashley's sake... not so that I'd have to stand here and explain myself to a ghost. Ashley?"
Soloman reached for her, but Ashley backed away.
"No."
"Ashley, we had a deal."
"Deal?" said Donovan.
"What deal?" added Sebastian.
"You didn't tell them, Ashley?"
"I said I would go with him if he helped-"
"Go with him to do WHAT!?" Donovan roared.
"To learn the truth about who she is," Soloman replied. "To learn the proper respect for her abilities."
"In other words, to turn her into a pacifist TWIT like you!"
"I saved your friends. I stopped the violence from escalating. I did those things because that's what you wanted. Now don't tell me you're breaking your word, Ashley."
"But-"
"You aren't taking her anywhere," Donovan snapped.
"Not against her will," Soloman replied. "But she did give her word."
"Will be DAMNED!" Donovan floated off the ground and hovered over Soloman like... an angry spirit. "YOU ARE NOT TAKING HER!"
"Hey! Hey-HEY! Don't I get a say in this!"
Everyone looked at Ashley.
"I told him I would go," she said.
"Do you want to go?"
"No, Sebastian, I don't... but I said I would. I said I'd go and I said I'd listen to what he had to say."
"So you want to go," said Sebastian.
"No one is going ANYWHERE with you, Soloman!"
"I see being dead hasn't changed you a bit," Soloman said with a scowl. "Still as unyielding and single-minded as ever. You plan on keeping my daughter hostage by force, then? I wouldn't put it past you-"
"Hey, how about you ignore the ghost-"
CLICK!
"-and talk to the man who has the gun pointed at your head."
Jason leaned forward and brought the barrel of his cocked .454 Casull level with Soloman's forehead.
"Uhhh... Jason?"
"It's late in the day and I'm getting angry," said Jason. "First we lose Braxis and now THIS guy lets a vampire KILLING MACHINE just FLY AWAY! I am NOT what you'd call HAPPY at the moment... and all this arguing is making my FINGERS ITCH! Ashley... either you're going with this... person... or not. Yes or no."
"She made a deal-"
"NOT TALKING TO YOU!!!!!"
"I did make a deal, Jason."
"Did he live up to his end?"
"Well... not the way I expected, but... kinda yeah."
"But you didn't exactly bargain for Brite going bye-bye, did you?"
"No, of course not!"
"So it seems to me that this guy changed the NATURE of your deal,"
"I never said I would kill the vampire."
"You never said you'd let him go, either," said Ashley.
"All he wanted was help. I gave it to him in exchange for what I wanted... this is the way civilized people conduct their affairs! And what authority do you have to interfere-"
"One: Friendship," said Jason. "Which is a LOT more than you've got... 'dad'. Maybe you aren't up on recent events, but me and Sebastian kind of have a PROBLEM with strange men running off with our girl. Two: you OWE us for Brite."
"I won't owe you-"
"You owe US and you owe everybody that Brite's gonna KILL when he claws his way back from the bottom of the Atlantic! And Three: I'M the one with the gun! Add 'em up and you get instant authority!"
"Ashley, does this man speak for you? Are you so entangled in this madness that you'll-"
"This 'madness' is what I do," said Ashley. "And it's important. I've been without a father my entire life, and when you DO show up the first thing you do is tell me how wrong I am, and when I ask you for help you make things worse. Now MORE people are going to die some day and you're standing there like it was nothing! I want to keep my word... but you mislead me. You didn't tell me you were going to let that thing get away."
"HELP it get away is more like it," said Jason.
"I never said-"
"So HERE'S what we'll do. Ashley said she'd go with you, but I'm betting she didn't say WHEN she'd go, did she?"
"No," said Ashley.
"Good. You want to talk to her? You stick around and talk all you want. Keep talking until you've earned her trust, and THEN she'll hold up her end of the deal. But if she disappears or I see so much as ONE magic trick aimed her way, I'll track you down and hurt you so bad that people in Hell will be like: DAAMMNN! THEN I'll give you to Sebastian."
"Ashley do you agree to this?"
"I'll go with you. Once I can trust you," she said. "You don't want to take the time for that to happen, then I didn't need to go with you in the first place."
"Very well," Soloman said, clearly displeased. "But I will NOT be pulled into your violence and-"
"Don't worry; we won't be asking," said Jason. "After what you did THIS time, we'll be making DAMNED SURE you don't screw up anything else!"
"And do you plan to keep a gun in my face the entire time?"
"No," said Jason. He un-cocked the revolver and started to lower it. "But there is one more thing. All that 'talking' your planning on doing? It starts when you get out."
"Get out of what?"
"The hospital."
CRACK!
Jason whipped the revolver across the side of Soloman's face. Soloman dropped like a stone.
"Now does anybody here wanna say that he did NOT have that coming?"
Nobody said a word.
" hat do you want?"
Black smiled.
"That's an interesting question," he replied. "Not so much that you asked it... but that you asked it first. The first question is normally 'what happened to me?' or 'where am I?' or 'who are you?' But you just get right to the point. I appreciate that."
"I already know what happened. I can guess where this is, and we've met before. So answer my question."
"Save the belligerence; I have very little tolerance for it. Similarly, I have no tolerance for failure. You and I had an agreement. A business agreement. You were provided with a certain amount of product to distribute."
"And I did. You can't say that I didn't-"
Black raised his hand. The fingers were long; the nails, sharp.
"Your failure to complete the terms of the agreement is not your fault. You aren't being punished for it. After all, no one anticipated the Knight's involvement. No one expected you to overcome that involvement given your rather limited resources. Although your attempt was quite admirable."
"Knight? Is that what that thing was?"
"Yes."
"So. This guy screws the deal and now I'm...?"
"Dead."
"Now what?"
"We were impressed with your progress before the unfortunate interruption. Further, we were even more impressed with your methods... your... how do I say this..."
"Style?"
"Exactly. We would like to continue our arrangement. There is still quite a bit of the original product to distribute... and some new ones. Not to mention other tasks that are quite suited to your talents."
"But I'm dead."
"Yes, indeed you are. But a position has recently come open and we're willing to overlook that minor detail. If you are interested, that is."
"You're offering me a job?"
"Yes."
"Doing what I did before?"
"And other things. Wonderful things. Your job will simply be to obey and not fail. We will provide you with resources to compensate for your... current situation.
"And this Knight?"
"Is our problem. But he will be dealt with. You may play a part in it if you wish.
"Oh, I wish. I definitely wish."
"So you accept our proposition?"
"Damn right."
"Good." Mr. Black extended his hand. "Welcome, Mr. Cole. Welcome to Coventry and Payne."
copyright 2005 by Dark Icon Entertainment
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