Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October, 13th 2013

A girl awakens in a dark room, but not the same one she was taken too. She is greeted by an older female voice in her head.

“Where…where am I ?”

“Hush now child, your dream is over."

“Where’s the light ? Where’s Nathan ? Where’s Mark-?"

“Light? That’s what people always say they see. And yet you wake in darkness? Do you know why that is child?”

“Who are you ? Answer my questions!"

“My my, quite demanding are you ? I will forgive your ignorance, for now. Your brain has been decaying for some time, as has the rest of your body, and it took more time trying to repair the damage. There’s still work to be done, but I’d say you’re almost as right as rain. The simple answer is, you were asleep and mommy woke you up. Now be a good little girl for mommy, and take your medicine.”

“Momm-? I don’t even know who you are or what’s happening ?”

“You are in a hospital dearie, and in the wrong wing by the looks of it…I can see you’re confused, and a little hungry…down the hall you will find a nurse on the graveyard shift. She is tending to some fool who thought guns were toys and played with them with other children. She should help you with that.”

“But what. Is. Happening ?”

“All will be revealed in due time my dear, but for now go to the nice nurse, and get your medicine…"

With that, the disoriented girl gets off the morgue bed, and walks out towards the door, looks up and down the hall, to see nothing. Even with the dim lights on, a darkness still covers the room. She figures it has more to do with a haze in her own vision than the actual lighting. The girl talks again, but it's pretty clear she can only talk in her head.

“What are you ? The devil ? God ?"

“Some may call me that, but the answer is not so easy. It will do you good not to question me.”

The girl feels a pull down the hall as she follows it, and in the back of her head, a chanting sound. As she staggers her way down a couple halls, she hears the chanting becoming louder and louder. She makes her way to a door, entering a room to see a woman tending to a man lying in a bed; or more accurately, the dark shapes of two people, with a red spot glowing in their respective chests - their beating hearts. The girl stands there awkwardly, as the nurse turns, see’s her, and panics. She hears the nurses muffled panicking voice as the girl advances towards them.

“Ahhh! Wha- what is-? You’re dead! You’re dea- No! Please! Don’t! Somebody! Help!”

The nurse begins whimpering and cowering in the corner as the girl backs her into. The girl looks back and forth between the nurse and the patient. The chanting overpowers any other sound in the room; save for the female voice which whispers in the girls ear.

“Feed, child."

And with that the girl gives into her instincts.

----

She doesn't know how long it's been since she's come too. She remembers the blood all over the floor, and all over her. Her only instinct was the run through the cover of darkness.

She has reached the outskirts of the town she once lived in. She feels she cannot come back, she knows she is long dead to them. The only way she knows for sure she isn’t dreaming is the voice talking to her from the back of her head, and that red figure that occasionally appears or disappears past the corner of her eye.

She isn’t about the rule out the possibility that she’s gone crazy. Perhaps with luck this will turn out to be end result of a bad, bad drug trip. That and being dragged to a junkyard while she was barely conscious. And yet this voice and figure is showing her something, and has told her to seek out a house far beyond the towns borders. The more she walks, the more she feels like someone is guiding her, less like the presence is following her, but she is following it.

For the life of her, she cannot tell where she is now or where she is going. It's raining, foggy and heavily forest. It's pitch black, and she's pretty sure she's in AM hours. Of course she couldn't tell, because her watch was broken from being buried for seven months. She muses to herself that all she needs is the sound of drums and a tall man in a dark suit following her around, and this scenery would be picture perfect. What little she can see is a faint light a dozen yards away, seems someone set up a camp.

As she walks closer, she counts twelve tents, each one has a lamp on within.

“It’s funny…you must have gone your whole life, thinking of how…strange life is, haven’ t you ?”

“I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what this is!”

“Yes, you do. This is but another example of the worlds oddities. In time, you will learn to be grateful for this new chance at life. There are things you will need to learn and do in order to show this gratitude."

“You mean what you made me do ?"

“You did nothing that you couldn’t have already. All I give is the means for you to do so and get away with it. Such is my price. And what is a mother to do than show her children the way.”

“My mother? No. I have had two mothers, and last I checked none of them was…whatever you are. You didn’t give me your name.”

“Come child, do you believe something as ancient, vast and terrible as me, could have one singular name ? If I had a birth name, I wouldn’t remember it. So many people give me different names and titles; The Morrigan, Le Fey, Blood Queen. What you call me matters little. What I am is the god on the other side of the coin. As you have died in darkness, it’s only fitting your new life is in darkness as well. Such is the lives of my children.”

As the girl walks closer to the pitch tents she see's figures standing around the tents staring at her. They seem pretty unfazed by her presence and look as if they were expecting her. She first reasons that perhaps there are homeless people in the woods, which would be the most logical explanation, but that wouldn't explain everything else.

“Why me, though ? What did I do to-?"

“Are you asking if you are special ? No child, just lucky. I can always make another daughter, but I chose you. Walk by my guiding hand, and I will lead you too your truest desires."

“You don’t even know me-”

“Oh hush now, do you even know who you are ? You must have lived different lives in one, wore a different mask at the same ball. You are just as much an enigma as I. But the truth of the matter is you suffered in life, died in the darkness. Alone. Betrayed…Unloved. No one knows the real you, but I can show you the way."

The people at the tents walk up to her. As she gets a better look at them, she sees they are all wearing masks; medical masks, Halloween masks, anything that can cover or obscure their faces. The girl is too tired and confused to really be fazed by this.

“I…I can hardly remember anything. All I remember is that studio, a-and they were arguing. Mark and Nathan were-"

“Were, exactly. What they did to you…what the world did to you can only be restored by the vastest, bloodiest retribution."

“…That’s not who I am…”

“Than who are you ?"

"My name...My name is Rachel Amber."

One of the masked men walk up to Rachel. She can make out a set of headlights turn on, and a blindfold be placed onto her head. She once again here's that ancient, voice in the back of her head.

"And who is Rachel Amber, but another lost girl ?"

----

November 2nd, 2013

A disoriented Rachel is led up a driveway, blindfolded. At her side are two masked figures making conversation with her. She knows she was Rachel Amber, but now she is simply dead to the world. And yet, she’s walking, talking, and breathing, and has been so for weeks. Albeit with difficulty. During these weeks, she finds herself escorted by strangers across the country, who won’t let her see their faces, rarely feed her, and constantly sedate her
.
“So, you’re the new girl ? I must admit, you don’t look very impressive, but we must take what we can get here.”

“I didn’t ask for this. I’m still not 100% sure on what this is.” Rachel says, under her breath.

“Well then, it’s a good thing we found you when you dead. You’ve been in that hole for, what ? Seven months now? If people suddenly saw you walking around, things would get very concerning.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt them.” Rachel says, mainly to herself.

“No one really does, but we have to start somewhere. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to make something of yourself.”

They stop and hear a door open. Rachel feels herself being ushered in. She can tell that the lights are being turned on as her blindfold is removed. To her curiosity, she is in a high end house, if she had to guess in the hills of Los Angeles. The place is spacious and looks as if someone already lives here.

Rachel looks around and notices she is in a heavy trench coat and a hat to obscure her features. Noticing a mirror on a wall beside her, Rachel sees she still very much fresh from the grave, and only now is her body really starting to recover. She doesn't look months dead as she did when she first awoke. Her skin is a pale grey, her eyes pale, and there’s dark blemishes and wrinkles here and there on her face. She looks at her hand, and see’s it’s wrinkled, her fingernails yellow. Looking back into the mirror, her hair is matted and wet. She’s quite literally a phantom of her former self.

It’s only then that Rachel notices her escorts; they simply resemble random street thugs; one is wearing a red balaclava; the other a face mask you’d find in a hospital.

Another voice speaks up; this one is male and has an Irish or English infliction in his voice; “I’m sure it’s quite a sight, isn’t it ? Can’t have you going around looking like that can’t we ? Although, I’m sure we have a couple of "dens” to spare on the other side of the tracks. But, I have seen those pictures; a pretty princess like you deserves a castle doesn’t she ?"

Rachel follows the voice to a living room. It’s not a standard living room to say the least, unless you’re accustomed to high end houses; Seventy inch flat screen TV; Three piece black leather couch. A fur rug, made from a white tiger.

There is a large window/slide in door, showing a massive pool. The exterior is surrounded by high fences and hedges.

The source of the male voice is a young man; anywhere from nineteen to twenty five years old. To simply put, he is dashing and the looks he’s giving off shows he knows it. A short, dirty blonde buzz-cut, five pack abs and a friendly looking face. His skin-tone was almost indiscernible; his skin was dark and pale enough that he could pass for a really light skinned African American or Hispanic, or at least mixed race. The man looks as if he just gotten out of the pool and has entered the house as he’s drying himself off with a towel. Clad in blue swim shorts, he puts on a black and white Hawaiian shirt and doesn’t bother buttoning it up.

"At the very least, the neighbors won’t be prying, so you should make a decent recovery soon enough. Your confusion is understandable. To keep things simple; you’re human life is over, has been for a while. Now begins a new era in your existence as you shed away your mortality in favor of-”

Rachel waves dismissively at him “I get it. I’m a vampire.” As she speaks. As it turns out, her whispery voice is mostly do to her larynx still repairing itself.

The man gives a friendly smile “Now what gave that away ?” The man dismissively at the two thugs. They bow their heads and walk out without saying a word, leaving Rachel alone with the man. “Too keep things…less formal, yes, you and I are a pair of undead leaches. And not just any kind, but hand picked by the good queen herself. Of course, you may refer to her as mother.”

Rachel shakes her head in disbelief “This is a whole lot to take in at once.”

“Then we’ll go an inch at a time, how’s that ?” He says, which gets a small, if unnerved laugh from Rachel “I’m just here to introduce you to the world you stepped into. If she picked you, you may have a great responsibility on your shoulders. All we wish is that you understand your place in this world.”

“We ? Who is we ?” Rachel asks, showing no actual fear of the man, even if she is uneasy.

The young man walks up to her, wearing a towel around his neck. “Mother’s other children. Her blood flows through all of our veins, and we all answer when she calls. We know she is the true queen of this world, with human tales that downplay her power; and so, we are the true heirs of this world, bastards or no. Perhaps you have read books of history, myth or legends of us. If only you knew who else carried the curse of undeath, or which vampires actually existed within history.”

Rachel laughs sarcastically to herself “Let me guess, one of them is Count Dracu-”

The man hastily covers her mouth, looking left and right in fear. He gives a harsh whisper in her ear “Don’t. Invoke. His name!” He calms down and releases his grip on Rachel “Regardless of what you believe, just know our reach is far and wide. Others seek you too Miss…”

“Amber. Rachel Amber.” Rachel nods.

“Rachel Amber. Know this, we have a hand in quite a few organizations, many of whom are not aware of our presence. For years, we have been watching Arcadia Bay with great interest. We heard her whispers and it was only this October did she finally call.”

“About Arcadia Bay-” Rachel starts before the man raises his hand to silence her.

The sound of his phone goes of -as it turns out his ringtone is “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2-, he briefly answers "They found our boys ? How much did they find out ?…Okay, wait for me at the beach, we’ll figure this out.” before turning back to Rachel. “I’m sure you have many questions. I will visit you tomorrow night, and will be available to answer them. In the meantime, I have a previous engagement to attend too. Until then, I suggest you catch up on your beauty sleep. You sure could use it.” The man hands her a set of keys as he walks past her towards the door “Your bedroom is downstairs. I hope you find it to your needs and liking. If not, we can talk about accommodations tomorrow. Until then little miss blue bird, enjoy your stay.”

Rachel looks around her, alone in what appears to be her new house. She walks over to the window and stares out at the night sky over Los Angeles. This is her new life, apparently.

----

January 27th, 2020

Rachel, now resembling a more lively version of herself is resting, naked and floating is relative peace in an isolation chamber. She feels something is in the room with her. Not just the room, but may very well be in the chamber as well. She hears a woman’s voice whispering to her. That voice. The one she hasn’t heard in years.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.” It says to her.

Rachel awakes, as her chamber opens. As she climbs out, she reaches for a dark purple, silky bathrobe. She looks to the window and see the sun has disappeared over the horizon. The bedroom is filled with pictures and memorabilia she has collected over the years. On her nightstand sits an iphone on a iphone radio charger dock.

“What does my queen ask of me ?” Rachel replies. She walks up to her radio dock, and prepares to turn on her playlist.

Rachel has spent the past six years is what could loosely be described as “captivity” being thoroughly educated on her place in existence, and what her new purpose will be. She’s been told not to seek them out (“We will be the ones to call onto you.”) Rachel has been waiting for this Queen to call upon her again for sometime. Another rule that was placed upon her was to not seek out anyone she knew in life. That’s not to say she wasn’t one who’d take advantage of the little freedom she had.

“The time has come. A new dawn is upon us, and now I call upon my daughters to usher in this world.”

Rachael nods as she walks to her iphone dock, picking a song to start her evening routine with. Usually her picks are Wonderwall by Oasis; Moments Before the Storm by Poets of the Fall; Working 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton; Allstar by Smash Mouth; Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran; Lithium by Evansecence. It really depends on what mood she’s in. Rachel picks her song, takes a towel off a hanger on her door as she dries off her hair. Any other day, she'd lose herself to the music; lip-syncing, or just singing aloud, whilst dancing to the beat as she dressed up, but now she had to listen.

“And, is there a problem ?” Rachel asks, dropping her nightgown to the floor, picking out an outfit to wear for the night. Many of them range from classy; slutty; gothic to plain and wholesome. Rachel begins dressing up in her pick of outfit.

“As a matter of fact there is.”

The power cuts, as does the song, and a red shape forms behind her. A chill air fills the room and Rachel freezes in mortification.

“You’ve been seeing someone, haven’t you ? Someone you knew in your old life.”

Chapter Text

Febuary, 1922, Blackwood Pines,  Alberta

The nights never seem to have ended for Dr. Jonathan Reid.

In part, this has to do with the lengthy snow storms, and his only source of light as a gaslamp and fireplace. In an isolated, heavily forested, mountain area, Reid waits at an abandoned trading post, having long since worn out its usefulness. This was where he was to do his field research, and were he has made a temporary living quarters.

Silently, he contemplates his circumstances.

It has been some time since he started experiments anew, seeking the replication to the Tears of Angels as William Marshall put it. For as long as the Blood Queen slumbers, for as long as the Blood of Hate exists, his work can never be done.

And he knows the queen is merely sleeping, waiting, for her hatred lays dormant in the veins of his lover. Lady Elizabeth Ashbury has long since been freed from the effects of her tainted blood, but the disease is still dormant within her. As long as she lives, a new disaster lives within her.

Traveling with Reid for years, the two seldom stayed in one place longer than a few weeks.

Isolating the disease was easier said than done, and to Reid's shame it was all he could do to in lieu of the Tears of Angels. The makings of this cure have been lost to time, and William Marshall regrettably taking those secrets to the grave.

So in the meantime, his blood letting experiments are what he has to rely on, and took a rather unorthodox turn; that being he needed to find live test subjects.

Reid recalls the hearing;

-----

1920, the Ascalon Club, London, England

Reid was called to a hearing, with those who in attendance aware of what's happening in London's underground.

It occurred in the remains of the Ascalon headquarters; its survivors were gathered there along with high ranking members of the vampire community, and that of the Guard. To say things were intense was an understatement; the hunters refused to part with their weapons, and the vampires had to lay bare their own defenses.

They only had the word of McCullum that no fighting would occur.

"...I must say, had our good Ser McCullum not vouched for this, we would have suspected a trap." 

"Yee have little faith. It's the fact your good leader agreed to these terms that we believe this to be a trap on your end!" An older vampire, Lord Everett, spoke out.

"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth Ashbury's voice spoke out over the other two "That is quite enough. We both are here for the same thing."

"Same thing? You realize what a truce entails ?" A younger hunter, a French student by the name of Jean Margot asks.

"The same thing we want is a permanent solution. The good Doctor and I have traveled half way across the world and back in search for a cure of the disease that nearly brought London to it's knees, and we yield little to no results." Ashbury answers "It was in our travels, Dr. Reid has uncovered something rather disturbing that we felt we ought to spread word of. It has been years since I have taken part in this community's affairs, but know I wouldn't call upon the Ascalon Club and The Guard unless times are dire."

"Dire ? The plague that has ravaged England has passed like the night, the disaster averted; the Red Queen you speak of vanquished. Her Skals and emissarys are still being hunted by our guard. What dire circumstances do you speak of, madam ?" Margot speaks again.

"I have it in good authority, that the disaster is far from over. In the past couple of years, Dr. Reid and I traveled through Europe and the America's. The farther we travel the more we see her lingering presence. We asked a connection of ours within your Guard, to look into these instances within England alone, and we found these." Ashbury holds in her hand a series of photographs.

"A connection within the Guard ?" another hunter asks, "You mean to say we have a spy, a traitor among us-"

Before he can finish his sentence, one Ser Geoffrey McCullum raises his hand to silence him "Let her speak."

Ashbury places the photographs onto a table at the center of the room. Reid also has his own set of photographs, which he hands out to the vampires and hunters. These are, for lack of a better word, crime scene photos.

These are located in rural areas, country sides mostly: each of them display the aftermath of what appears to be a long forgotten pagan sacrificial ritual, each one marked with a symbol; a rose with pronounced thrones, drawn in blood upon each victims forehead, surrounding trees.

Most of the victims range from children to teenagers, drained and mutilated in a perverse matter best left undescribed.

It is this horrid that causes the newly made vampires and hunters turn away in horror.

"I am sure the elders among us are familiar with this mark, and this work ?" Reid asks, looking over the spectators.

"This is the work of the Mother's Children," Geoffrey McCullum nods "The Guard believed them to have died out in 1666 in the wake of the Great Hunt."

Everett speaks up "Not only were they hunted to extinction, but many parties took to burying any evidence of their existence we could find, save for the documents your Guard held. The atrocities they committed in the name of their old goddess is a horrid past we were to keep buried. It is only in recent centuries did word of even one of their members spread, having those records slipped through our fingers; this cannibal from Scotland, I believe."

"Vampire cultists," Ser Margot spat "It appears to me that you and your ilk are trying to confess to something. What weighs on your guilty conscience, leaches ?"

"Afraid not," McCullum shakes his head "The Mothers Children mainly consisted of humans. Very few were actual vampires, and one of their practices was turning their followers as a rare reward."

McCullum takes a stand beside Reid and Ashbury to address his men.

"I led an investigation into these instances when word reached me. There are thirteen different cases across England alone, and hours ago I have received word of seven occurring in Wales. These are by and large the work of man, and while there is some vampire activity, whoever they are has eluded us. We have reason to believe, there is more than one vampire, and for one reason or another, they have an in depth knowledge of the work of the Mother's Children."

"And why, pray tell, would this concern the Ascalon Club ?" A younger vampire, Earl Gordon asks.

"Because they are responsible for nearly three past disasters, and if what I have been told is to be believed, have brought Europe to it's knees in Arthur's time." Ashbury answers, and Jonathan speaks up after her.

"Also, I have had to put down five disasters before they started. Three in the America's and two in Europe. There is only one vampire that can create disasters that I know of; I'm sure you're familiar with the one called The Morrigan, and what she brought about two years ago ?" Jonathan explains.

"Is there anything that can be done ?" Another hunter asks.

"The only thing that can be done." Margot answers before he addresses Jonathan "You say you and the good Lady Ashbury have been seeking a cure for this spreading disease, that you have found a patient zero so to speak? The source of the disease."

"What is is you're getting at ?" Jonathan asks suspiciously.

"It seems the permanent solution is at your doorstep, Reid. It's simply a matter of removing said problem. Kill the disease at it's source. Without it's roots the disease can't spread, can't it, doctor ? And perhaps you can use their blood too make a vacci-"

Jonathan raises his hand to dismiss Margot "You haven't the slightest recollection of how this disease or vaccines work, do you ? Besides my research concluding that the Blood of Hate isn't a virus as we know it, if we take to butchering people to make cure's, we may as well go back to using actual leeches."

He speaks truthfully, but not the full truth that their hostess is patient zero. Or it least, one of said patients.

"I know disease, Dr. Reid." Margot explains "I was lucky enough to survive where a wasting sickness claimed my father and brother. Do not play me for a fool."

"And even if we are to take your solution, good sir, there are still numerous vampires already infected by the blood. An estimated dozen at the very least." Jonathan further explains.

"And what is it you propose, vampire ?" Margot sneers.

"What he proposes, is that we are to put our resources together in fighting this disaster before it grows beyond our control." Ashbury says before addressing the others "As I have said, I wouldn't have called both parties here unless it was urgent, and I would say that that the narrow aversion of five different disasters is urgency enough."

"What are we to do ?" Everett asks "I am not sure if you're aware, but Ascalon Club hasn't been on the same standing it was following Redgrave's exile. The scandal Myrdinn exposed upon us was a nearly crippling blow."

"Which is why I have an added proposal." Ashbury starts "As the only living daughter of William Marshall, I have been named an heir in his final will, in the event no son of him lives still. With Redgrave not only a false progeny, and has since been driven away; and as Marshall's heir, his current lands, wealth and authority have been granted to me-"

"Are you proposing yourself, to bring Ascalon back to it's old glory ?" Everett asks skeptically.

"No, I am proposing that we can bring your club into a new era, and together we can maintain the stability of Great Britain, and if it comes to it, the world. In Dr. Reid's research, we have found the United Kingdoms are far from the only place the Morrigan's emissary's have reached."

"Which is why we must put our organizations together, and draw in what we can," Reid states "With enough influence, we can find the disasters were they take root. We can put a stop to them before they can start, and even now their threat has grown beyond my ability or anyone's to control alone."

"And what of us ?" Margot asks "Who here among the guard, can vouch for them ?"

"I can," McCullum speaks up "You've all seen the evidence, some of you here have also looked into the murders - the sacrifice of children, to bring about calamity, is not something we can ignore. I wouldn't propose such an alliance myself on a good day, no matter how temporary. For the time being, it is clear there is something greater at hand then vampires fighting man."

Margot scoffs "And I take it we are to ignore your ilk who prey upon the innocent ?"

"They've agreed to our terms," McCullum says "We expect any vampire who throws in their lot with Ashbury to follow suit."

"Our ? You mean yours," Margot scoffs "I threw in my lot with the Guard to protect my people from your kind. And by the looks of things, it seems not even your kind would prefer this alliance you propose."

"As much as I hate to agree with one of the Guard, he does have a point." Everett starts "For someone with such wide eyed ideals, those same ideals blind you. We cannot simply uproot centuries of tradition for the sake of some social experiment of yours. Society's standards may change, but Ascalon cannot."

"I'm sure there are slave owners who said the same." Gordon notes, clearly not agreeing with the elder vampire.

"This isn't about a social movement, this is about doing what is right; saving as much lives as possible. About preventing disaster, the same kind many of you here have witnessed. Something greater, more terrible is at our doorstep." Reid starts "We can simply try to fight the disasters as they come, but what will that accomplish ? It will be more of the same, and so far . What we are offering, is a permanent solution."

"For a man of science, you seem ignorant to the truth; there is only one real permanent solution." Margot remarks.

"I say we put it to a vote," speaks Gordan, as all eyes in the room are now on him "Clearly there must be some visionaries among us, and surely we must keep some air of a civil discussion. Who among us will accept this proposal, and who among us will reject it ?"

-----

As one can imagine, an attempt to unite two warring groups, for even temporary or pragmatic reasons, would only leave both groups further divided.

Quite a few of the Ascalon club threw in their lot for Ashbury, recognizing her as an heir and daughter of Sir William Marshall. Her detractors were few and held steadfast to their traditions. Likewise, the Guard had some who reluctantly threw their vote at McCullum's word; one wonders if they would vouch for him all the same if they knew Jonathan turned him.

Turning McCullum had it's benefits in the long run, providing Jonathan and Ashbury a friend ("pragmatic acquaintance" McCullum vehemently insists) on the inside.

Having developed an understanding, Reid and Ashbury developed a hidden partnership with McCullum, which was a vital source of information, and in turn McCullum learned more of vampire history and was able to reach out to the less fanatical of hunters.

While he was able to turn the less fanatical hunters to Reid and Ashbury's cause, the same could not be said for those who were in the guard for so long. As it was, that meeting did not end in violence, and was left with disgruntled disagreements.

Both Ascalon and the Guard did what could be done in tracking potential disasters and the work of The Mother's Children, but not together - save for those who defected to Asbury and McCullum's faction's.

True to McCullum's claims, these cultists mostly consisted of humans and committed blood sacrifices to appease their queen, in what was mistaken for "Satanic Sexual Homicides" for lack of a better word. But the search for the vampire who was guiding them, yields no results.

Over the past two years, three more disasters were averted, but the work of the Mother's Children was contentiously sighted; reported not just in the United Kingdoms, but Spain, Venice, Rome, India, China, and Israel. For the past seven months, there were no reported sacrificial murders. On top of that, the Ascalon club dissolved due to a collapse in influence.

The new club, founded by Ashbury, was relocated in the America's for Ashbury's protection after four attempts on her life, believed to be by members of the former club. For the Guard, many who threw their lot in with McCullum's faction were found slain; none were the work of vampires, or the Mother's Children. After holding down the fort for two years, McCullum also disappeared; thought dead by the public, but Reid and Ashbury knew better.

For now, Reid's work in searching a cure continues.

Unlike, Swansea, who was kept "an permanent guest" in Ashbury's living quarters, Reid finds himself doing field research. Swansea was kept alive for the purposes of seeking a permanent cure for the Blood of Hate - a "penance" that was forced upon him months after he turned.

However, the Tears of Angels, as its called, was not something that could be found so easily.

Marshall's own search for the cure is among many instances of a burned and buried past, and even so it was only a partial cure. Which is why Reid has taken to preforming experiments, and how he ended up working in the forests of Blackwood Pines.

-----

Balckwood Pines, February, 1922

For the most part, Reid's operations were to take a sample of the infected blood from the vampires captured over the years, and Ashbury's cured blood; as well as test subjects to observe the affects of both, but there is complications, even with the fact that her blood is technically not cured, and so it would put patients at risk.

Only a fool would risk spreading the Blood of Hate to the sake of scientific progress (a sentiment usually said within Swansea's earshot), which is why Reid had an aversion to preforming such experiments on humans (nor animals at Ashbury's insistence).

Which is why McCullum's word eventually reached him, he learned of a third option.

McCullum told Reid that during his travels he ended up in Blackwood Pines; a forested area that had no human residents since 1914, despite once having a small farming community in it's county.

By McCullum's own account of his ventures there, something else has taken hold of these forests, a curse worse than that of the vampire which were now the reason the pines had no human inhabitants; a fearsome spirit that is a manifestation of the selfishness and savagery that lays dormant in all people.

This provided Reid something else to test his subjects on, as he set up a makeshift lab and living quarters in what was once a trading post for the past couple of weeks.

This being in spite of warning by Elder Maxwell Dibikad at the local reservation. He was also a former member of "Pâhkwêkan"; an organization of vampire hunters from Cree and Ojibwe tribes that started when the settlers brought the vampire curse to the region. Due to their ties and history with the Guard, especially in their origins, they were erroneously considered, a "Branch" of the Gaurd.

As of an bungled attempt to "cleanse" the Blackwood Pines region, the Pâhkwêkan have generally considered the place "No Man's Land".

Hence why Dibikad was partially indignant over Reid's plans.

"I would think a man of your intelligence would know not to trifle with thing such as this; I spent the last seven years telling my family and community to avoid that place like the plague." Dibikad would say.

"I appreciate your concern, Good Elder, but you must understand that my line of work requires trifling with things. I apologize if I overstep, but for better or worse, facing such spirits has become my life." Jonathan would insist "I am only here because my research requires me not to bring harm to to man or animal. Not for these experiments."

"How noble," Dibikad says with an air of sarcasm "But if you must take your work to that mountain, know this; the only difference between the men you hope to spare and the spirit of lonley places, is a pretty slim one. It is a darkness that can emerge from within should should a man give into it; it is no coincidence they awoke when your settlers first colonized. From what you tell me Dr. Reid, it is a struggle you yourself are very familiar with. Which is why I am utterly baffled that you would willingly seek them out."

"It is as you say; it is a struggle I am very familiar with." Jonathan nods "From where I stand this is more of the same demons.

"If you insist on fighting this battle Dr. Reid, there is little more I can do for you...but know this; those who spend there lives seeking evil, especially to fight it, that same evil will follow you; till the end of your life or the end of this world. Whichever comes first."

Reid is pulled from his train of thought to see McCullum himself enter his living quarters, having been a travel companion of his for these ventures, and something of a lab assistant.

"Any news ?" Reid asks.

"I've had to put one down in a farming house." McCullum answers, taking a seat at Reid's table, not sounding particularly proud of what he did.

"Need I remind you that we are only to kill as a last resor-" Reid starts before McCullum stops him.

"It was a child, Reid." McCullum sighs before taking out a flask and swigging it down "Or it had to have turned from one. I would say death was a preferable option to what's been inflicted on the others."

They are interrupted by a shriek from under the floorboards.

"Looks like it finally woke up."

Reid and McCullum head down towards the trading posts basement to observe their latest subject.

In the past weeks alone, Reid and McCullum's work involved tracking these creatures in the woods and the former homes of the people who once lived here. This would usually lead to a fight, and sometimes lead to them being put down.

Five times they were lucky enough to trap one, and keep it subdued. It was simply a matter of preforming the blood letting experiments on both the cursed and cured blood.

Needless to say the results varied.

The first two subjects had no noticeable physical change upon being exposed to the Blood of Hate. The blood proven addictive to the subject. No noticeable change occurred when the cured blood was administrated with the same dosage. They were put down after three days of no results.

The third one was given a large dose of the blood. As if it were possible for it to become something more monstrous, it surely has. It immediately broke free from it's restraints and escaped the "lab". After a night of chasing it down, and following a trail of mutilated animal carcasses (that notably, it didn't bother eating), it was soon cornered and killed as it was making it's way towards a small town.

Fourth one was given the infected blood, and immediately dosed with Ashbury's blood at a larger dose. This subject began to physically transform, before it collapsed. It spent hours, vomiting and choking on it's own blood, before it stilled. It's body quickly desiccated and decayed into nothing.

The fifth and final one was bound before them. This one was administrated the same small doses of infected and cured blood over the course of a few days. There was no visible results but the subject was otherwise docile and would often sleep.

Reid and McCullum observed the creature sit and crawl around it's bindings. It didn't make any noise and would simply glance at the two vampires.

"I find them more disturbing when they're silent." Reid notes, McCullum nods in agreement. Reid is busy writing up the results in his sketch book.

"What say you, good doctor ?" McCullum crouches down at eye level at the subject.

"Only one way to find out." Reid responds, taking a large needle from their makeshift operating table. "We'll send a sample to Swanea's laboratory, administrate it to those already infected. If these are the results we're loo-" Reid is interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

"By the stars!" A voice from outside shouts "Do you not know what's out here ?"

Upon hearing the voice, Reid and McCullum glanced at each other, and quickly made their way up the stares.

When they open the door, they find a man near frozen to the bone, and dressed in a thick long coat and hat that obscured his face.

"Thank the heavens above!" The man says, nearly collapsing into the two "You have little idea of what horrors I have witnessed out there!"

"I'm sure we have some idea," Reid snarks as he ushers the man in.

The man walks up to the still roaring fireplace to warm up "I'm afraid I can't stay too long, there are others that need help on the mounatin!" Now that the man could speak coherently, he had an accent to him, indicating an British or Irish nationality.

He had shoulder length dirty blond hair and a five o'lock shadow to match. He was a rather good looking young man, estimated to be in his early to mid twenties, but his race was indiscernible, a dark pale for lack of a better word. He could almost pass a light skinned black man, or hispanic, or even a mixed race.

"What brings you out here ? What business could you possibly ha-" McCullum starts.

"My church- my church congregation," the man starts "You wouldn't understand."

"We can try," Reid starts, sounding concerned.

Reid and McCullum have the man sit down and listen to his story.

"There's not much to tell really. My name is Morgan, there's nothing really special to say of me. A couple of weeks ago, our church had their usual gathering. We are a small, closely nit community you see. We look out for each other, and outsiders. So you can imagine our shock and curiosity, when a woman shown up at our church."

"This shocked you ?"

Morgan shakes his head "Not so much the presence of a woman, but rather she was naked, swimming in the churches frozen pond. She didn't even mind the cold."

McCullum and Reid glance at each other "That...does sound rather shocking and curious when you put it that way."

"At the time," Morgan continues "We didn't make as big a deal of it. We are not a superstitious lot after all. This ain't the dark ages. We took her in, fed her, clothed her, warmed her up, and she spoke before our congregation. She was otherwise okay, but cold and hollow inside. It was like something died within her, and never awoke."

Reid and McCullum knew what was coming; this woman was a vampire, and for one reason or another is responsible for something that happened to a church congregation.

"She spoke of her son, and how she'd lost him. The law and some of our clergy men offered aid and to find her son. They asked her where she last saw him. They didn't expect to find him alive, but the woman insists she was at a camp upon the mountains." Morgan shook his head "She would claim that she could hear god calling, and to be honest, we didn't think much of it. By the time the search part began, the snowstorm engulfed the area. We left him to his fate."

Morgan pulls out a flask from his coat and drinks it down quickly, but not quickly enough that the two vampires didn't notice the scent of blood. Morgan continues "Our children were more sympathetic, and many of them snuck out in the dead of night, and ventured into these woods."

"You mean to tell me there are children lost here ?" Reid gets up from his seat, ready and willing to do something, so long as there were civilians in danger of his operations.

"Do you know were they are ?" McCullum adds.

"Aye, I do. With their own children lost, and the woman missing, mothers and fathers alike followed suit. It was easy to find them. We just had to follow the tracks, and we could tell by a slightly larger set of bare feet, that she took them." Morgan continues "We followed them up the peak, and we found the camp. And we found...them."

"The children ?" Reid asks hesitantly.

"The creatures...vampires. The red skins here call them winnibagos, something or other, but I guess they refer to the same thing really. They made camp here, and preformed all manner of atrocities to-" Morgan starts before he pauses "...no, there was three bloodsuckers as far as I could tell. The rest seemed normal, but the things they did with our women, our children...anyone they didn't kill immediately, was bound in a cave. Poked and prodded like were patients at an operating table."

Reid stops him before he continues "You escaped ?"

"Earlier tonight," Morgan nods "They brought forth a fourteen year old girl, and- an-"

"You mean to say they are still alive ?" McCullum asks.

"Seven of us. I was a coward, my chains broke and rather than help the others, I alone fled. When they cornered me, I jumped from a cliff."

McCullum and Reid exchange a look, and both understood the same thing; a hunters duty calls, and the duty of a champion of Myrddin calls. They were a little suspicious of the scent of blood coming from Morgan's flask, so of course he would need an eye kept on.

But what if he's saying is true, the Mother's Children have reached Blackwood Pines, and are holding innocent captives. On top of that, Morgan comes off as a little unemotional, but this could be chalked up to shell shock or trauma. But at times, it was as if he prepared the words he'd use.

"Take us there." McCcullum says "You know the way, correct ? We can help you and your people."

"Are you sure you two are up for it ?" Morgan asks "Have you not heard a word I said of va-"

Reid puts his hands on Morgan's shoulders "I can assure you, we have the experience, and the resources to dealing with such things. But we need you to lead us there!"

"Yes," Morgan nods "Yes, very well. I'll have you gather your things, and we'll be on our way."

Gather their things they did. Their weapons in hand, Reid had the basement door locked, to make sure their docile test subject didn't cause any trouble. It wasn't like it was going anywhere, but better safe than sorry.

Weapons and equipment in hand, Reid and McCullum give a final glance to one another, as Morgan led them towards the mountains in the dead of night. Silently, the two vampires agreed that if he tries anything with them, they will try something with him.

-----

Unbeknownst to either of them, a raven watches them on before flying down towards the trading posts window. It pecks at the windows for several minutes before it breaks through.

The raven flies towards Reid's bedroom, and uses it's beak to open a drawer. It takes a vial in it's beck, which just so happens to contained the cursed Blood of Hate. Vial in beak, it takes flight again and lands at the basement door. Setting aside the vial, it pecks around the bottom of the door, rousing the attention of the subject beneath the floor.

Finding a particularly soft spot at the door, it starts to peck again, spending minutes on end digging and and eventually clawing it's way through the small space it made on the door. Once again taking the vial, the bird wiggles through the hole it made, it flies around the makeshift laboratory.

When it perches on the operating table, it glances at the captive subject for a moment before it hops onto the ground, places the vial on the floor and rolls it to the subject.

The seemingly docile creature reaches for the viral, and looks at the addictive substance within. While it was placated by the douses of the cured blood, a vaccine it was not, and now it was left to it's basic instincts.

Breaking the vial in it's hand, it begins rapidly licking up the cursed blood. The raven looks on, waiting for something to change in the creature.

-----

October, 17th, 2013, Oregon.

Jonathan Reid once again awakens in the dark. It's been like this for years now, and still he is working on the means of escape; he and three others. He has been a prisoner here for sometime, and still knows not where he is. In those years, he's never heard word of Lady Ashbury, McCullum, Swansea or any else in his circle.

He knows he's in a camp of sorts. A camp that closed in the 1950's due to an incident involving two counselors and missing campers. There were plans to re-outfit as a prison camp in the 70's that didn't fall through. Not that it kept his the "American Guard" as they call themselves from making use of it.

No longer content with simply hunting and killing vampires, or other supernaturals, or even protecting people; the now Americanized, modernized faction of the old Guard of Priwen has taken to secretly policing vampires, and supernatural sympathizers. At least those who have use for them.

As it so happens, Reid had his uses, and for the past six years, has been rather stubborn to their interrogations. Day in, day out, his jailers would starve him, beat him, isolate him for weeks on end; anything to get him to spill some secrets of his. Particularly the chemical weapons he was involved with during the second World War.

But no matter what, he never budged or broke. He tried talking sense into them, but that did little good. In fact, he was planning something from underneath them. For months, he was working on plans for another inmate, Claude, who claims to know a friend of his from the outside, and secretly they would work on a plan to escape. Claude was human, and spent most of his time in a gym yard, claims he got in for the murder of six guards...although he claimed that was a set up to get him in here.

While Jonathan never revived word from the outside, his confidant received messages all the time from those on the outside. There are plans to move Reid upstate if this camp is unable to extract info out of him, were he would be forced to work with the higher ups, so far the plan was to hold on for the next three days, which means putting up with more "interrogations" until the time of transfer.

It's been two days since he got the message, but this last day, Reid was given something that may put a damper in his old plan, and now had to come up with something else and quick. He's not exactly in fighting form, he's severally blood starved, among other things, and this was the worst possible news he could have received at the worst possible time, and something that puts his current objective in a tailspin.

"They have Mary, Doctor Reid."

Chapter Text

October, 23rd, 2013

To say the last week were a massive headache was an understatement.

The train escape didn't exactly go off without a hitch; on account of seventy dead Guardsmen who were put down in the escape attempt, and the ensuing fight left the former Dr. Jonathan Reid bedridden. At the very least the bodies found were not killed at the hands of a vampire. It was the day before the transfer when his confidant Claude was the first to break out of the prison camp and disappear. The Guard didn't think he was worth the resources to chase down, after all he was only one man.

When Reid was put on the train, he was placed in a secluded room in a box car and couldn't tell where he was or were he was going when he felt the train collide with something which he soon found out was another train.

Reid found himself submerged in a river, just barely managing to break free from his box car and swim his way to a river bank. Surrounding him was what could be only described as raining fire; he looked up to see two locomotives reduced to burning wrecks as they've collided into each other on a bridge above.

That and a rising sun.

What followed was a gunfight Reid himself didn't take part in, but one were he witnessed Claude take part in; he's been told of how a decade or so ago, Claude was involved with gang wars in the Mob, Yakuza and Cartels, and clearly Claude was showing off his prowess from those days.

Reid quickly passed out from exhaustion, and by the time he woke up he was in a bed. It was the most comfortable he's been in years, and really he could rest for days, but he couldn't relax or actually sleep. He knew as much this was a guest room; there was no pictures on the walls, nor windows and everything was either painted white or blue; and the interior was a nostalgic design from his childhood in the Victorian Era. He didn't know how much time passed before someone checked on him.

She was a sight for sore eyes, and one that he hasn't seen since 2008; the sight of Elizabeth Ashbury in a three piece business suit isn't one he's used to, but it's a welcome sight. He would later find out she was the watching over him for the past week.

Elizabeth didn't say anything, as nether she or Jonathan could find the words; instead Elizabeth approached his bedside, rolled up one of her sleeves and had Jonathan bite down into her wrist and feed to get back his lost strength.

By the time Jonathan was finished, he very nearly drained her into unconsciousness, before he realized she was fading "Sorry, it's been a while." Elizabeth smiles

"It's quite alright, it's been a while for me too."

The two share a soft laugh before Jonathan addresses the issue at hand "I take it you were the one who arranged-"

"Yes," Elizabeth answers "I spent years and millions worth of resources in finding were you were held. Most of that time was spent establishing connections; our mutual friend Claude was pretty resourceful when it came to finding a way for you to escape."

"And a reckless one," Jonathan starts again "Does he know not how much attention that train crash will-?"

"They'll never suspect you; the men killed were done so either in the crash or by gunfire. We placed a burnt body to act as your decoy, and our contact himself has disappeared, now that he's been paid for his services. They won't even believe it was the work of a single gunman"

Jonathan couldn't help but give a bemused chuckle "When have you become so ruthless ?"

Elizabeth sits onto the bed and presses her forehead to Jonathan's "You were there, remember ? Besides, if you knew what this so called Nationalized Guard have been up too...you'd know that ruthlessness' is a necessity." Elizabeth gives Jonathan a kiss on the forehead before she stands up to take her leave "We will speak more when you get your barings."

"I've been collecting my thoughts long enough." Jonathan sighs "As of now, all I need is a proper meal, and a real shower."

Elizabeth smirks and takes Reid by the hand "Come then...I shall see to your needs, good doctor."

For over the next three and a half hours, and after a quick tour, Jonathan would find this residence is a large chalet style mansion, on a heavily guarded lakeshore property. He wasn't exactly familiar with this area though. Jonathan was now dressed in what clothes were available for him at the time; a pair of slacks, a wife beater, loafers, and a black hoody.

----

The shower was revigorating and the meal was filling. For the first time in a few years he felt as healthy as a horse and clear in the head. The two spent the past few hours making up for what lost time they could, and catching up on personal matters. Now, it was time to talk business. Ashbury had him sit on a couch in her study, and it was looking out the window did he take in the view.

"Where are we ?" Was the first thing he asks.

"Delos Crossing, or at least the county." Elizabeth answers "Quite possibly the safest place for us. Neither the guard has jurisdiction here, nor can my detractors reach me without drawing attention. I figured you could use a place outside the hustle and bustle of the city. We never really go into town anyways, except when we need supplies. We keep out of their hair, they keep out of ours."

"Ours ?"

"You didn't think I live out here on my own, did you ? That I never bring in guests ?"

As if on cue, another door opens in this room, as a handful men and women, young and old, all dressed in attire fitting of an upper class businessmen or politicians - jarringly making Jonathan's current getup stand out. They took their respective seats within the study, all facing a desk Elizabeth set up.

Out of them, Reid recognized as the former Earl, Glen Gordan, whom he hasn't seen in what had to be fifteen years. Jonathan recognized him as one of the first of the Escalon club to throw in his lot with Elizabeth's faction as it started to grow. Upon this recognition, Gordan was the first to speak "Ah yes, the good Doctor is once again among his peers."

Jonathan got up from his couch to shake the former Earl's hand "Good evening, Gordan. I how many years has it been ?"

"Long enough to believe that Anthony Marcos Gordan is long deceased, and no suspicions when his long lost cousin Goodwin steps in to resurrect the family business. I take it you lack familiarity with Ashbury's newest associates ?"

There was Kara Stanley, the seemingly college aged daughter of a big wig yuppie, who has been underestimated her whole life by the men of her family for her ambitions, and thought to have died in a drug overdose back in 2004. Now she secretly runs Miami's underground as a proxy to Elizabeth Ashbury, and her younger brother Paul as her own puppet.

Thomas Callon and his brother Lucas, illegitimate sons of a high ranking member of the Vatican, who upon their transformation in 1997 following a bungled attempt on their families, have gained a hidden influence within the Vatican City. They use this influence to track down and investigate any and all instances of the Mother's Children.

A husband and wife couple, Julius and Damora Duncan, who since the 60's have their hands in the politics of New York, Washington and Texas. While they generally don't influence the politicians, they have the power to gather and give out what information they can to Elizabeth.

"Is this all the turnout for tonight ?" Elizabeth asks.

"This is all we could find. You understand that New Ascalon cannot simply uproot all it's members for a single-" Ms. Stanley starts.

"Of course," Elizabeth sighs "I take they too are preparing for the worse."

"If what the Callon brothers say is true, it is better to be safe than sorry. Besides, the Guard has grown considerably and if this many vampires came together in one country, in one spot at once, we'd be drawing too much attention." Gordan explains, before turning to Reid "You're going to want to hear this Reid, it was good that Ms. Ashbury was able to spring you when she did."

"And what news is this ?" Jonathan asks.

"As you may recall, I have previously ordered the Escalon to keep an eye out for sightings of Myrddin Wilt. For the longest time, he has not appeared to any other vampire as far as we can recall." Asbury starts.

"I take that has changed." Jonathan nods "And I take it there is another disaster that has eluded us as well."

"Disasters," Ashbury corrects him "There has been numerous sightings of a being matching Myrddin's description, albeit within dreams, and a few accounts of people dreaming of a male and female voice speaking to them."

"So...what your saying is that we are taking dreams as sightings ?" Jonathan remarks skeptically.

"When we are investigating beings that do not exist within our physical realm, it's best to try out methods used by supposed ghost hunters. Especially when there is a consistent pattern of sightings." Ashbury took out a series of documents handing them out to each other the vampires in the room, detailing the sightings and what connects them.

At first is started off small; young children, barley old enough to speak, in hospitals within the Oregon area. They would claim to see a red figure within their dreams or waking moments, sometimes it was masculine, other times it was feminine. Some thought they were images of the devil, and a few even drew what they've seen; crude as they were they matched the image of Myrddin, and his mother.

After this rash of sightings, the second rash was brought about by young women, many of them have been admitted to a hospital as well, even going forward to the police.

These women claim to have been kidnapped from parties, and bars across the area, otherwise matching similar sightings to that the children in hospitals had. Unlike the children, the feminine figure was more prominent than the male figure. Much like the children's sightings, they were otherwise dismissed as dreams and no charges were brought forward due to no signs of sexual assault.

"Do you see the Pattern, Dr. Reid ?" Gordan asks.

"Of course," Jonathan nods "But dream chasing and ghost hunting, this is hardly my area of expertise."

"You are the champion of Myrddin, and as far as we can tell, no other lives. Your research, before your capture, was to seek out and find a way to end the disasters before they start. This is when you come into this." One of the Callon brothers, Lucas says before snapping a finger to Thomas.

In the midst of this discussion, Thomas has been setting up a projector, and screen on the far end of the study, explaining as he turns on the projector.

"Dr. Reid, is it true that in all these decades, you never found a significant cure for the Blood of Hate ?"

Jonathan hesitates a moment before he answers "That is correct."

He pretends not to notice the look Elizabeth is giving him.

"The papers Lady Ashbury provided us, you wrote during the second great war, you claim to be on the verge of a breakthrough." Thomas Callon addresses him again.

"The ultimate result wasn't..." Jonathan notices Elizabeth is looking at him again "It wasn't satisfactory..." He was at least being partially honest with that one.

"Understandable. From what we have read up on, you were looking in the wrong places." At the point the slideshow begins. The first slide depicts a photograph taken in 1945, showing a child of the age of seven in a hospital bed - he is strapped to the bed, wearing only a gown. He appears alive, but looks as if he should be dead.

"We knew you and your defunct connections in the guard, have been relentlessly tracking instances of disasters and infections across Europe. This poor lad was a patient of yours for years."

Jonathan looks away aghast "You do not need to remind me."

"Of course, but what you may need reminded of is the name he kept saying." Lucas replies.

"Mor Fay, Mor Fay, Mor Fay." Thomas recites "You were far from the only person who had your eyes on that village. Neighbors of Vatican City have the cities attention."

"Yes, the archbishops have been watching my progress, but as far as I let them knew, that village was dying of a wasting disease."

"Do you really believe us ignorant, Dr. Reid ? We knew secrets you didn't even consider." The next few slides depict what could easily be mistaken for prisoners and victims of war camps, all gathered in a quarantined village.

"While you were looking for a solution by medicine, we were searching for a convict."

Jonathan nods "Yes, the disaster of that village, Dolores Valisari. As I recall she was only fourteen." He then shakes his head as terrible memories came flooding back "She died the day I reached that village. By then the situation was out of control, the most I could do was continue my research!"

"On the contrary, the outbreak was very much being controlled."

The next photograph depicts a drawing; it was of a knight, in dark armor, standing in a field of bodies, and resting his chin on the Handel of a long sword. Behind him, three other knights rode on horseback, and above him was a flock of crows.

Or simply put, H.J Ford's 1902 illustration "Ser Mordred".

"What you did not know, the Mother's Children never stopped in the 20's. And as our church revered the son of our Lord, they have only their goddesses favorite son as their mediator with her."

At this point, the Callon brothers had the floor "For the uninitiated among us, The Mother's Children is a so-called religious order, dabbling in the dark worship of whom they call The Morrigan." Lucas introduces.

"Or as we have come to know her, The Red Queen, Blood Queen. They call her different things, but many of them are variations of mother. Despite their affiliation with vampires and connection to Disasters, very few members are vampires themselves. They appear, disappear over the centuries, but a constant with them is their claims of leadership by one Mordred of Fay. Many claim, he still walks and lives into this very day, but until recently, we believed them to be murky claims. An urban legend, within an urban legend. The only thing we know for sure are the stories saying that Mordred was the reason they brought Europe to its knees in Arthur's time." Thomas explains, nodding towards Ashbury to speak her piece once more.

Finally, Ashbury spoke up "I have been collaborating with the Callon's in recent years. Over the past five years we have discovered The Mother's Children had connections within arms, sex and drug trafficking rings. Over the past seven months, we have arrested and interrogated a few key members, each one claiming they were working under the direction of Mordred himself. At the time we didn't seriously consider that Mordred still lived, but we had two witnesses who were ready and willing to testify to have met Mordred himself in the past two years. By the time we reached one of them, he was found bisected and burnt. The second remains in our custody. This is were the alleged sightings of Myrddin Wilt come in."

The next few slides show different locations across Oregon, and mug shots of people arrested in these areas; pimps, drug dealers, high level escorts, low level prostitutes. Transcripts of interrogations by Ashbury's agents, or Ashbury herself. A few of them mentioned being called by a woman's frequently in their dreams to a certain area. They wouldn't consider them any more than dreams had they not been consistently similar.

"Are these members of The Mother's Children ?" Jonathan asks.

"Not as far as they know. A few of them we could confirm, but the rest look unfamiliar with them. They did speak of a woman's voice speaking to them, like she was calling them, luring them. But as far as they knew, they were only dreams. What they did not know, was that each arrest followed a line towards this township." Ashbury flips to another slide.

It was a shot of Arcadia Bay, taken days prior from the viewpoint of an airplane.

"And on top of that, we have had a few...incidents in that town that have seem to confirmed our suspicions. We have word from our second witness we have on the inside that confirms, that The Blood Queen has picked her newest champion, and a newborn vampire was taken from Arcadia Bay, just days ago. We do not know where too."

Jonathan double takes at the news "Do we at least know who she is ?"

"Our witness doesn't seem to know, but she has claimed to have met Mordred himself, several times; says he's currently been hiding out in the slums and ghettos of the East Los Angeles, under a civilian identity, and until we know for sure, our contact is to stay here in our protection." Ashbury explains.

"She's here ?" He asks, as yet another vampire enters the room, with Jonathan's back turned to her.

"As a matter of fact, she is, my dear brother." The voice of Mary Reid speaks out.

----

Los Angeles, February 14, 2014

Rachel Amber awoke in her bed, as usual from another nightmare.

Or daymare as it were.

She wasn't quite used to sleeping alone. In fact she wasn't used to living alone. She thought that staying in LA would be different for her. That it would present more opportunities for her, but this wasn't exactly a life.

Come to think of it, this wasn't exactly life either; more like "Unlife" Rachel snickered to herself. She wondered if internal monologue was always this annoying.

Rachel looks to her clock - 7:47 PM. The sounds about right.

Throwing on whatever clothes were available, made her way to the kitchen, and brewed herself some coffee. Mixed in of course with her monthly shipment from those keeping an eye on her.

Rachel rolled her eyes and groaned "That same. Goddamn. Joke!" The thought of it annoys her.

Usually it was some goofball, delivering her boxes of bloodbags every month, and every time, he'd make a quirky joke about "That time of the month." Really, she felt a strong urge to just rip off the delivery man's head an indulge himself on his his blood. But as far as Rachel could tell, she wasn't that heartless.

Rachel was a social beast by nature, and despite what you'd think, being a vampire in a new city didn't exactly revitalize her.

To be honest she felt as if a part of her was still dead. She knew that she was told not to try to revisit her old life, but she was curious about what happened with those she left behind. By the time she looked up what happened in her absence, she suddenly became turned off from pursuing the matter further. After that, she got a few weeks or so by herself, to mourn in silence and loneliness. This was one miserable way to spend Christmas, to say the very least.

By now she barley leaves the house, and when she does, it's by the new name given to her; Vivian "Viv" Manning. As "Viv", Rachel found it hard to meet new people.

She tried going to a few parties in the hills, but she didn't exactly click with the people there. In the past few months, she slept with an ex gangster, whose name was also Frank; after a later party, Rachel slept with this aspiring actress named Tracy over the course of a weekend.

Rachel didn't expect anything too special or serious to come from these encounters, and of course nothing ever did; she truthfully explained to the former that she felt awkward about being with someone with the same name as an ex she still had lingering feelings for; and the latter wasn't looking for a relationship at the time.

Setting her drink aside, Rachel took to her usual evening activity; she undressed herself and made her way to her outdoor poolside.

One benefit of having such high fences was her assurance that there's no peeping toms in this neighborhood, which allows her to feel more comfortable skinny dipping in her pool, and "moon-bathing" as she dubs it on her deckchair.

Recently, Rachel has taken to deck-side reading; ever since she learned the truth about certain mythological and/historical figures who may or may not have been vampires. One thing she learned was not to make light of Dracula, and supposedly there are information in Stoker's book left out on the "Accursed One".

Currently, Rachel was reading Red Dead, a Western, semi-auto-biographical novel about two outlaws, and the fall of the gang they rode with, written by the son of one of the outlaws. As far as she can tell, there's no vampires involved, but she's not too far along.

After forty minutes of swimming and reading, Rachel's train of thought was caught off guard when she heard the sound of buzzing overhead; it was a police helicopter, and it flew over the neighborhood, including her house. If the surrounding sound of police sirens were any indication, there was a police chase occurring in her neighborhood, again.

Normally, Rachel wasn't that self conscious about her nudity, but when the copter's light flashed over her, even if it was for a second, she'd get pretty annoyed about it.

Rachel simply huddled her legs towards her chest in a fetal position, hastily covering herself up as the copter passed over her house. Rachel rolled her eyes, flipping a bird at the bird as she got up and made her way back inside. The chase going on outside pretty much killed the quiet time mood she had for the evening, nothing was on and the night was still young.

"Well, you're a vampire now Rachel," she reminded herself "What's a bloodsucker like you to do if you're not terrorizing the local populace ?"

Going to her room to dress for the occasion, Rachel put on a pair of pole dancer heels, black tight leather pants (sausage casing she heard it called), and a pale grey urban safari tank top. As usual, she'd go commando. She put her hair into the style of cheerleader ponytail, and completed her look with uncharacteristically girlish glasses.

Rachel took a moment to admire the view.

It was around January her body fully repaired itself. She'd call it a Christmas miracle, but it was on the 29th. By then she was fully ready to present herself in public, albeit at the restraints her new "family" (as they call themselves) put on her, even though she hasn't really heard from them since that night. She hasn't even heard the voice that has followed her the night she awoke.

Every so often she'd have to change her dress, demeanor and hairstyle, sometimes even her accent, especially when she was going somewhere new. It was the first time Rachel felt freedom in a while, even if she was technically a dog on leash.

"Fair maiden and virtuous knights of LA beware; the lioness, is on the hunt." Rachel mused herself.

----

At two hours, Rachel has visited two restaurants, a bar, mingled her way into a party of college students and even a strip club. So many warm bodies, so much to suck and eat from...and Rachel hasn't had that much luck in that department.

Rachel never really had it in to kill people, and as far as she can tell that was a necessity. Try as she might, she was never pushed to her limits. For the longest time, she had to rely on deliveries to feed her fill.

"This is what weaning's like" Rachel thinks to herself, making her way onto a street corner, leaving the latest party behind. She groaned in frustration when she realized she didn't bring her phone. She was also short of change at the moment.

Once again, her train of thoughts were interrupted by car rolling up. Rachel wasn't stupid, she knew what to expect, but even if it's a little out of practice, she knew how to act otherwise.

The car is a white Ferrari, and if the driver was any indication, this was another resident of the Hills. He didn't look too old, maybe twenty seven at the youngest, was white and had a short black goatee. He was dressed in a way that said he was a punk...but a rich punk.

He was probably part of some rappers entourage.

Rachel knew to hug herself, tried her best to look naïve, scared, and cold. She tried hard not to convey a cartoonish puppy dog look.

"Howdy, you look lost." The man says.

"Hi, yes I...I don't have a lift and my friends kind of left me behind. I don't have any money, and my phone died on me." Rachel said, being sure to add a small break in her voice, but at the same time keeping an air of confusion. She didn't want to look like she was about to cry...she's been told that can turn off guys like that.

"I see...it looks like you need a lift...maybe some money ?"

Rachel sniffs a little and smirks "I...I am out of change, yes."

"Tell you what, I'm feeling a little generous." The man says and opens the passenger door for her.

"My...my folks always told me not to accept rides from strangers." Rachel says, putting her hands behind her back modestly, puffing her breasts a little, making sure they swing a bit as she sways from side to side. "Alrighty then; name's Carter."

"Amelia," Rachel answers back.

"See, now we aren't strangers!"

Rachel blushes a little as she nods and steps in.

As soon as the car turned off, the song Ass Like That by Eminem was blaring over the speakers. Rachel meekly asks "Is- Is it okay if I switch the station ?"

"Be my guest," Carter shrugs.

Rachel turns the seek button until she finds something a little to her liking; by chance, it was Britney Spears' I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman, which she pretended to sing along with before Carter asks "So, where you need dropped off at ?"

"O-oh, uh." Rachel starts "I was staying in Skid Row. The girls from my campus were talking about going to this party. I had so much work to do, but they, y'know, talked me into it. 'Come on Amelia, what's the point of keeping that outfit in your closet if you're not going to show it off ?" Rachel adds, using a faux valley girl voice on the last bit.

"Really ? I could have sworn I've seen you over at the club." Carter remarks.

"That ? Yeah, we met some guys, at- at the frat party. They, wanted to get some extra fun, and got my friends to go along with them. It's easier to get into these clubs if you have girls in your group, you know ?" Rachel explains.

"I see. It's just, you really seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"What can I say ?" Rachel smiles "I'm a people person. And the dancers were really nice to me. Anyways, the boys got riled up, and asked the girls to come with them to their apartments. I said no, so they left me behind." Rachel shakes a little, making sure to add a break in her voice "It's good to know there are decent guys like you in the city." She adds, pointing to a ring on Carter's finger.

"Oh, that ? Uh, me and the Mrs. have been going through some shit, but I'm trying to make it work." Carter says "She's in the Hollywood Hills. Me ? I got a place in Temecula. She's fighting for custody of the kids, and looks like she might get them. I just don't want to lose either of them, you know ?"

"Aw, that's sweet. What got you in trouble ?"

"Okay," Carter hesitates "I may have gone to a few strip clubs and kind of gotten careless. I won't bore you with the details, but she didn't take to kindly too one of the house guests. But I see someone like you ? I tell you this, I got a kid sister living with my folks. She's about your age, and if I saw her left alone on the streets like this ? Let me tell ya, there are some real sickos out there."

"Ain't that the truth ?" Rachel thinks to herself, eyeing him carefully, but not letting him see it.

"You said you were short of cash ?" Carter asks "I got plenty to spare."

"Oh, no." Rachel modestly shakes her head "I just need a lift back to my house."

"Well, it's like I said...I'm feeling generous." This is when Carter's car pulls over into an alley. Rachel hasn't been in the area, but she wagered this was in Harbor City.

"Why are we stopping here ?" She asks, externally pretending to be nervous. Internally, she had a smug pride as a lion would have catching a gazelle.

"Look, you may not need money, but you need a lift. Now I am feeling generous tonight, but generosity comes at a price." Carter says, leaning his seat back.

"Of course it does," Rachel internally roles her eyes. The facial expression she makes is one of scared confusion "B-but I never..." Rachel lies.

"Relax. Everyone has a first. All you need to do, is use your mouth." Carter explains with a calm smile.

"B-but you said you and your wife-"

"The Ms. doesn't need to know." Carter says "Or, you can walk back to your house ? But all things considered, you don't seem to know the neighborhood, and you said your phone is dead. No money. Very, very little options."

"Well, at least I don't have to feel guilty about this." Rachel thinks to herself. It takes all her will not smirk as she keeps a sacred expression on her face, and snakingly nods her head.

"I'll...I'll do it."

In the back of Rachel's head, she can hear something chanting; that same noise she heard in the hospital, when she first gave into her hunger.

Carter smiles and leans back, already undoing his pants.

Once he pulled it out, Rachel had to make it appear this is her first time seeing one up close. She widened her innocent looking eyes with curiosity, her lips shakes a little as she looks up at the expectant man. Rachel pretends to be nervous, as she got down off her seat onto the car floor. She made it a point to shake nervously and even sniffle a few times as she made shaky breaths, and began to lean forward.

She was interrupted as she heard his phone go off. Carter is quick to answer.

"Oh, hey mom...No you just woke me up. Is this important ? It's almost midnight...no I didn't get Nancy's pictures." Carter grabbed hold of Rachel's head and ushered her forward.

Rachel slowly licked her lips and let out a final shaky breath and a slow nod, open her mouth and leans forward, flicking her tongue a little. Carter continues talking to his mother, mentioning something about his niece and a school play she was in today...what he didn't notice was the vampire girl bared her fangs.

Carter let go of the phone, and screams as a loud, wet and sickening crunch could be heard over the phone.

Rachel took him into her throat, and began to drink. She could have sworn she felt a few tendons rip. If she gritted her teeth any harder she may just rip it off. It could have been ten or twenty seconds of Carter screaming bloody murder, before Rachel spat out his flaccid member, admiring the mark of shame she inflicted on him.

Carter was now crying and muttering incoherently, as Rachel looked up with a literal bloody smirk. Her eyes became a dark yellow as she looked up at him, showing her fangs and the remnants of blood on her teeth "Was I good enough on my first try, you happy little pervert ?"

Carter screams and wails as Rachel casually gets out of his car and hastily makes her way out of the alley.

----

Some time later, Rachel was at a dock, having just finished upchucking as she tries to process what she has just done.

This was the first time where she willingly fed on a living person - one who tried to sexually assault her, but still. Never mind that she drank from...there of all places, Rachel's mind was clear enough to think about what she has just done.

If he dies from the blood loss, then she is a murderer; if she did, she could easily kill again, and she'd risk losing what made her a moral person in her own mind; if she did something to infect him, then she just created another vampire; on the other hand, if he doesn't turn, what the hell is he going to tell people, if he tells them at all ?

Rachel looked down her body, and noticed the bloody mess she made down the front of her body.

She can't exactly walk home looking like...this ? The Rachel looked down into the water...it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do, but Rachel wasn't exactly in the right mindset.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel dove into the water below her.

She swam.

She swam for what had to be hours in the deep blue darkness.

One perk of being the undead gave negated her need to breath, and swimming this way brought about an nostalgic feeling of how she'd play pretend to be Ariel when she was a kid. Now that she was actually in the sea, and actually didn't need to breath, there was more authenticity here than in her girlhood fantasies.

By the time she returned to the surface, the bloody has washed from her clothes, and she saw the sky turn a dark purple.

She was reaching he daylight hours, and had to return home quick. She stared towards the shore, and saw she has reached Santa Monica Pier.

It was simply a matter of reaching the shore, hoping that no late night beachgoers would notice an absolutely soaked girl clamoring onto the sand and making her way to the parking lot. Anyone catches her, she can easily spin a story of how she fell off a boat. Hopefully she can find a less pervy resident to hitch a ride from, but at the moment, she's going to have to rely on her own two feet to reach shelter.

As she passed a post, something caught her attention - among the many promotional posters, wanted or missing posters, and adds, one in particular stood out; "Lover's in R'lyeh: A Romantic Epic" was to be shown at a local stage theatre. Tickets don't look too expensive, and the next showing was in four days. What in peculiar caught Rachel's attention was a name on the bill.

Stephanie Gingrich was cast as a co-star. Rachel smiled to herself at the thought; she'll need a change of clothes and style of course, keep herself scarce and careful, but at least there was someone from her past here.

She has been warned not to see anyone she knew as a human, after all Rachel Amber has been dead for months. But still the temptation of seeing a familiar face, after so long, all she has to do is remain unseen.

Rachel has a common enough face, all it takes is a change of clothes and style, and she can blend in like a chameleon. And it's not like her "family" will notice as long as Rachel isn't seen. Hell, she hasn't seen or heard anything from these "Mother's Children" since November now.

As of now, Rachel's plans for the weekend has changed.

-----

February 21st, 2014

Over the next several days, Amelia the naïve sorority girl disappeared, and Vivian Manning, the aspiring Hollywood model remerged. All it takes for Rachel is a change of clothes, makeup and hairstyle.

In this case, it was an emphasis on black and purple makeup to give herself a gothic appearance; dressing in safari platform sandals and a black tie dress, Rachel made herself presentable for the night. Buying the tickets for the next show, Rachel did a little looking into about what this play would be about.

Lover's in R'lyeh: A Romantic Epic is as the title indicates, an epic romance, based on the Cthulhu Mythos.

It was also a musical compared to Wicked, and had a sordid history to go with it; supposedly the current play is based off of a revised draft and an unproduced play dating back to 1937.

There's an Urban Legend that one of the original play-writes went insane in the process of writing and committed suicide before he could finish; a mysterious H. King, who is credited as the original co-writer but no one could find them. It wasn't until last year was the original draft found, rewritten and finished in its current form. The choice to make it a musical, and the songs written were new additions to the play.

The night of the showing, Rachel made her way into the theatre at the seats she was designated; front row. In the back of her mind Rachel knew she shouldn't be trying to get attention, but she wasn't thinking with her head, but rather a nostalgic filter and a need to see someone or something familiar.

To be honest Rachel doesn't know why she is suddenly fixated on Steph; she was mostly friends with her through Chloe, and it has been about two years since she's seen Steph. Aside from a few personal encounters or hangouts with Steph, she never considered anything serious or spectacular to come from it. She isn't even planning or expecting a reunion or anything.

Once again, Rachel chalks it up to a desire to see a familiar face.

"Lover's in R'lyeh" was a four hour show, and told to the tale of Ancient R'lyeh before it sank into the depths of the Pacific. The story revolves around a lowly servant and the daughter of a human high priest falling in love as the forces of Cthulhu descend upon humanity.

None of the classic Lovecraftian figures appear, but the presence of the Great Old Ones and Elder God's is empathized and felt throughout; the only exception being the main villain, all but spelled out to be Nyarlathotep, who serves as the Pope of sorts for the religion started within R'lyeh.

It's pretty clear that the plot, at least this version of it, was influenced by The Little Mermaid and Titanic, especially in regards to it's love story. The songs were able to give Rachel goosebumps; from it's love theme "Stars Fall, Seas Rise"; to it's villain song "The Friendliest Stranger".

Overall, the play had an anti-nihilistic message to it about finding hope and meaning in a world without it.

As it turns out Steph has a supporting role. Steph was playing a slave woman named Aminnon Rhade; she served as a comic relief best friend and "wing woman" of sorts to the lead female. She was wearing a mask across her eyes and wore a costume that left little to the imagination, she even got her own song about uplifting ones spirit ("In Strange Eons"), which involved her dancing with the lead and their backup dancers in a particularly erotic matter.

As Rachel became engrossed in the performance, she noticed someone sitting beside and eyeing her. The song was loud enough so that Rachel could only hear her voice and that of the woman sitting next to her.

"You liking what you see ?" A woman asks. She looked older than Rachel by a few years, had shortcut red hair, and a bright green form fitting dress, and a French accent.

"Hmm ?" Rachel asks.

"The play I mean ?"

"Oh, yes." Rachel nods with a whisper.

"That and...I couldn't help but notice the way you're looking at my petite amie." The woman says.

"I mean," Rachel shrugs keeping her voice down "She is making herself pretty noticeable."

"Emphasis on pretty." The woman says. She looks to the stage and gives a small wave to Steph. Steph in the meantime, stuck to her performance, but as she did a spin, she gave a wink only Rachel and the woman noticed as they aligned with her eyesight. "Cathy Mortimer," the woman gives her hand for Rachel to shake.

"Vivian Manning," Rachel shakes the woman's hand "I don't come out here often, but I heard good things about this play."

"Do you often see plays like this ?" Cathy asks.

"Nothing new, usually. I make exception to Wicked, Disney goes Broadway, and the classics." Rachel answers truthfully.

"I see, and I take it you know someone here ? That's why tonight is an exception ?"

"What is this ? Twenty questions ?" Rachel asks.

"Just trying to make conversation. Stephanie, she's a doll, no ? Real people person." Cathy explains "While you ? You look familiar."

"I get that a lot. I have a common enough face."

"Of that, I can see." Cathy nods as the song ends.

The two went back to watching the play.

-----

A half our after the show ends, Rachel was finishing off in the bathroom. She's not exactly a public crier, but she did find herself having to wipe her eyes at the bittersweet ending.

She read enough Lovecraft's Mythos to not expect an optimistic outcome, especially when forgone conclusion dictates the sinking of R'lyeh, but the sweet part of the bittersweet ending threw her off. (Or maybe she was overwhelmed by seeing a familiar face ?)

Rachel has just finished wiping her eyes, and tried to reapply her makeup. When she got a good look at herself with the black and purple mascara running down her cheeks and eyes did Rachel think back to the first time she saw her reflection when she awoke.

Sure, she was ostensibly a flesh and blood human being, but looking into her reflection, was a reminder that she - Rachel Amber - was dead. A walking corpse. When she looked into the mirror then, she saw a literal phantom of her former self. When she looks now, she sees a mask she has to wear. And even then, whenever Rachel sleeps, she more often than not goes back in that room.

That bright flashing light, that blinds her as it it were darkness; the two muffled voices arguing; the feeling of hands handling her, moving her into a certain position, stripping a piece of clothes off of her; the sting of needles into her skin at random intervals, poking and prodding her at times; and the feeling of something pouring into her veins.

She knew it had to be drugs in retrospect, but she felt as if it was trading something new into her as it took her life. And when the darkness finally took her, she finally heard a clear voice "Now daughter, you are mine."

Rachel felt someone tap her shoulder, and she turns around to see it was Cathy.

"Stunning performance, wasn't it ?" Cathy asks with a smile "I only hope that you were not so captivated, that you'd leave anything behind." She casually takes a phone out of her purse - it was Rachel's phone.

"Oh, uh" Rachel starts before taking her phone "Thanks. Yeah, it- it was spellbinding." She says with a nod.

"I'm sure the cast would appreciate the compliment. As a matter of fact, one of them is with me right now." As Cathy says this, another woman enters.

"Cathy, I'm sure if we report it to the Lost and Fou-" the new woman stops.

Stephanie "Steph" Gingrich was nigh unrecognizable from when Rachel last saw her. Steph was out of costume, now dressed in a dark trench coat, her hair grew out a little, and the sight of her without her hat was nearly alien. Ironically, Steph wore more makeup than Rachel did.

If it wasn't enough to render Rachel a deer in the headlights, Steph herself found herself frozen too. Rachel wasn't sure how much time passed before on of them spoke, and Rachel was the one who made the initiative.

"Good evening," Rachel extended her hand to shake "My name is Vivian Manning. I have heard so much about the show and wanted to congratulate you on your performance. Miss Gingrich, or is it Mrs ?"

"It's Miss still," Steph nods with an awkward smile.

"Not for long hopefully," Cathy remarks.

"My friends call me Steph."

"Mine call me Viv," Rachel answers back

"Or at least they would if I made more of them."

"Ah, well maybe we can help with that." Cathy says, before Steph talks for her.

"I've got other shows coming up, and looking to get more roles. I always appreciate support from our audience." Steph explains as she looks up and down Rachel's body, as if she's unsure of what she is seeing "Hopefully, you can make it to my other shows. If- if you're interested, of course."

"I'll...see what's on my to-do list." Rachel gives a sincere smile "I have always been a fan of live performances, and have been looking for more of a pastime lately."

"Ah, well, I'll be keeping my eye out for you then." Steph says as she and Cathy take their leave. Before they exit Steph turns her head around to say
"See you around, Viv."

When Rachel was sure she was alone, she lets out a deep breath she's been holding in for the entire conversation, looking back into the mirror.

"See you around, Steph."

Chapter Text

March, 20th, 2020

To say the past few years have been a cluster fuck, would be an understatement.

Had things gone perfectly, Sean would be with his brother Daniel; arguing about with Daniel over hogging the bathroom or some noise like that; or teasing Daniel over his crush on Lyla; and they'd both tease Sean over his crush on Jenn.

In a perfect world, his dad would still be alive.

In a perfect world Sean wouldn't have gotten to where he is now.

Settling down in Puerto Lobos wasn't easy for the first few weeks, but a few odd jobs here and there, and he got a comfortable enough condo.

At the moment, Sean was attending a wedding reception, along with and his two housemates. Sean himself sat at a corner, as it was only his housemates doing the work, and he was sort of a tag-along. The reception was being held at a country club; he didn't know too much of the details other than it was a Jack and Rose deal; he was poor boy, she was a rich girl, can I make it any more obvious ? The three were dressed for the occasion, but it felt a little out of place for them; to put it bluntly, Sean was not a tux guy, nor was Cassidy one for extravagant dresses.

Lucy "Cassidy" Jones was on a stage for at a country club, having made a living for herself preforming live shows, and was currently doing acoustic covers of any genre. This gig was no different, aside from having two other guitarists on stage to for backup.

Finn MacNemra, in the meantime, did part time jobs at a slaughterhouse, but nowadays mostly works bars at the club - Sean was just a plus one. Sean himself didn't go out very often, but since both Finn and Cassidy were hired by the bride's parents, he figured the least he could do was keep a low profile, sitting at a table out of sight and out of mind.

Or he tried.

"Hey, aren't you the comic writer ?" One of the guests ask him. It was the bride's brother and he was a little older than Daniel.

"Uh, si, si. That's me alright." Sean answered with a smile.

"I don't expect you to notice me, but I follow you on Twitter."

"As it that so ?" Sean chuckles "I don't really go on there anymore. Thing's got to political."

"I see. Hey, about the comic, how much of it was true ?"

Kind of a bold question, but he's just a kid, he didn't judge "Well, for one thing me and my brother aren't wolves...as far as I know." Sean adds jokingly "But maybe I'll find out during a full moon."

"Okay, but the animal characters...they're based on real people, right?" The kid asks.

"I'm not comfortable answering that." Sean says bluntly and honestly. Silently he was thankful the kid didn't ask of the "real" hunter was struck by lighting. He's got more than a few people questioning if it was supposed to symbolize God punishing the cop.

An older, well dressed man Sean recognized as the bride's father, walks up to the table, addressing the boy as he takes him by the shoulder.

"Ernesto, I told you to stop bugging the guests." The man says.

"Sorry papa, I just recognized him from the internet." The kid replies.

"Because that's a reassuring comment." The father replies sarcastically, before addressing Sean "Lo siento por ese hombre. This little monster's always getting into trouble."

"Oh, I understand," Sean nods "I have a little monstruo of my own."

"I never seen you around here. You friends with Alex?" The man asked curiously. Alex being the name of the groom.

"Uh, no. My girlfriends the wedding singer, and our housemate is on bar duty tonight." Sean gestures to Cassidy while she's in the midst of preforming an acoustic cover of Don't Stop Believing along with two backup singers. Cassidy see's Sean from the stage and winks.

There's a part of that Sean would also introduce Finn as his boyfriend, but he doesn't think this crowd would be all to accepting of a bisexual polymerous relationship, so he mostly just introduced Cassidy as his girlfriend and Finn as their roommate.

To be fair that's how it started. A while after settling in, Cassidy and Finn both caught up with him to help him find his feet. Cassidy was the one who stayed at first, while Finn sort of went back and forth. Things just sort of happened.

"Ah, you came to show your support too," the man asks "Tell me, does she take requests ?"

"Not without pay, I don't think." Sean shrugs.

"Wanted to request something to dance with my daughter with. I'm thinking that Whitney Huston Bodyguard song."

"You know that's a break-up song, right ?" Sean asks.

"As if I'm not parting ways with the most important girl in my life." The bride's father answers as he walks off.

Just as it was time for the bride to dance with her father, Sean figured he'd stretch his legs himself. He smirked a little as Cassidy prepares her next cover with "Fun fact, this was originally by Dolly Parton."

Sean took his leave out the door. Heading towards the clubs terrace, Sean leans over the railing on the balcony.

The club has a helluva view though, you could see the whole county. In the far distance you could see the city towards the east, and the wall a farther distance to the north. Puerto Lobos could be seen just a twelve minute drive away.

It would be so appropriate to light a cig and take it all in, but Sean wasn't that much of a smoker, especially with Cassidy establishing a no smoking rule in the condo until she was "sure of something". Still, the space and silence were enough for Sean to clear his head think things over for the past few years.

For some time he has been following the news and has had a regular correspondence with Daniel (who, yeah, he was mad with at first, but in time understood why he did what he did). So long as Daniel was safe, than he was satisfied. Sean also has had a few correspondence with his grandparents, his mother; friends; and for the sake of transparency, Agent Flores.

Sean was told the situation; while there was no forensic evidence linking the Diaz brothers to Officer Matthew's death, the criminal activity the brothers got into since then could get Sean fifteen years in prison at least; admittedly, they were probably trying to find something to pin on him. Daniel would get leniency due to his age but the powers that he's been showing off would get an eye kept on him by the government until further notice.

Agent Flores was put in charge at monitoring Daniel for the time being. Daniel, says he overheard a mention that it wasn't just the FBI looking at him, but something called "The Foundation".

Sean was sure he misheard something about anomalies, but the subject was quickly changed.

According to the news he's been following, Daniel has revealed a lot in his testimony when he was put through the legal system; going into details of Lisbeth Fischer's compound there has been no concrete evidence of illegal activity, aside from an under the books attempt at adopting Daniel, but she was all but exposed as a fraud. Along with Jacob, Daniel was essential in the FBI looking into the questionable activity of Lisbeth herself, her church and her staff.

Unfortunately, like many good sheep of the kind, the lot of her followers stayed at Lisbeth's side. There is noise that the FBI are investigating her further, and while there's no warrant for her arrest, time will tell. Sean's been following that case because of how personal it was to Daniel and Jacob, and he learned that a few witnesses and even FBI agents, ended up missing over the last week and that Fischer has taken to isolating her community. Nothing significantly happened yet and as far as he knows FBI investigation is still ongoing, so it's only a matter of time.

At this point, Daniel's ties to Officer Matthew's death was all but forgotten. Now, the government was more interested in what he's been through, over what he did.
Merrill was already doing time and he doesn't have the possibility of parole for twenty seven years, so Daniel's testimony didn't do much in that department.

Daniel also spoke about Hank Stamper's assault kidnapping of Sean, which got the Stamper's investigated; a local family admitted to seeing Hank with an unconscious Sean, and saw Daniel flee the scene as they passed by. They didn't say anything at the time as they knew Hank and took his word when he explained himself, which led to the Flores questioning the Stampers. When questioned with this information, Doris Stamper folded pretty quickly and ended up confessing to what her husband did.

Ultimately Hank wasn't going to see jailtime, aside from wearing an ankle bracelet of his own, and two years parole; but between court costs, bail, a settlement the Stamper's were required to pay and the fact their business often ended up being harassed and even vandalized by the "#JusticeForDiaz" crowd, it was hardly a smack on the wrist.

As for Sean himself, it took time to re-adjust. When the dust settled, Sean reestablished a fracture of his old life with a social media presence. Turned out he had quite a following, and while the law wasn't exactly on his side, the general public seemed split, and some of the media was on his side.

You've got the more conservative side who say that Sean needs to answer for what happened between October and July if true justice is to be seen; the extreme conservative minority accusing him of being a cop killer who got away due to "Left Wing Political Agendas", death threats towards him and his brother, racist tweets, etc. The more liberal side of things seem to make it more about his race than anything else, claiming they were a victim of conspiracy.

It wasn't enough to get Sean to return to the states, considering a fugitives legal status isn't decided by popular demand. He'd be put on trial, at the very least for everything that happened between Matthews death, and the confrontation at the Border. Even if he was innocent in Matthew's death, he did work for a drug dealer, and was an accomplice in arson.

Still, Sean was able to make a moderate success of himself. He produced a web comic about two wolf brothers - an obvious commentary on he and Daniel's journey. No real names were mentioned but a few obvious stand-ins were obvious. Especially for those who were there.

Sean was able to monetize his E-Fame, produce a graphic novel adaptation of the comic, and got a small cult following. He rarely made public statements on social media, other than memorials for his father, and has received an offer to "air things out" with the Matthews family over a podcast. He hasn't responded to the last one yet.

His friend Lyla was also running a podcast on social justice, and has been one of his many liaisons to his old life and through social media.

His others include, the Heckerman siblings, Jacob and Sarah Lee, who have settled in Beaver Creek, and for a while spent time in the Reynolds house. From what Sean heard, Sarah, Daniel and Chris are as thick as thieves.

So far Jacob has been fitting in with Beaver Creek, and has become a friend of the family. He tells Sean that Claire has been helping him come to terms with his faith, while Finn was helping him come to terms with his sexuality whenever Finn went back and forth between Beaver Creek and Puerto Lobos, keeping an eye on Daniel and Sean, and Cassidy.

Ever since their time at Merrill's camp, Sean and Cassidy became a tight nit. Being Sean's first serious girlfriend and the woman he lost his virginity to would do that. In the weeks that passed since Sean settled in, Sean would also spend a hefty amount of time with Finn when Cassidy became sick one week.

They planned on taking a trip to Sistema Dos Ojos when Cassidy was acting up, so when Finn accompanied Sean, something more than friendship grew between them. When they returned home and explained themselves, and understanding Cassidy was the one who suggested their current "family unit".

From there, their trios bond was stronger.

Not as strong an effect as Sean's concerns for Daniel, but a strong effect none the less. The two were some of the of the few people in his life that can really get to him. Cassidy and Finn were two of Sean's top pack members in his book (literally or no).

Sean looked back in his journey the past year and a half. He's come to think of the family he gained over this journey. He's come to think of this as a pack.

No, he did not have what is called a "alpha male" complex. Contrary to popular myth, wolf packs are not formed with a Strong vs Weak mentality. They are formed by a mating pair, and their families. Sometimes he hears how they take unrelated members into their families; that's kind of how he see's the Diaz pack, being the friends and family he made over the years.

"Pretty view, huh ?" Sean hears Finn ask, as the latter walks up and wraps his arms around him from behind. Must have been break time.

"Think I should take a picture ?"

"You see one picture of a pretty sunset, you see them all." Finn shrugs "Going to be heading back to Beaver Creek for the weekend; was wondering if you knew what Daniel wanted. You know, for a gift ?"

"I don't know, I haven't been able to reach his phone either today or yesterday." Sean answers, taking out his phone to see the signal. Four bars.

Finn looks over Sean's shoulder and shrugs "Maybe there's a blackout there. Maybe he's found himself a girl."

Sean scoffs/laughs at this.

"If Daniel found himself a girlfriend I would never hear the end of it."

"When my older brother got one, I think he forgot anyone else existed. Once me and my other brothers joined them on a date to this theatre, we were left behind when they left." Finn remarks.

"Dios Mio," Sean gasps.

"Well, it wasn't that dramatic, but boy did we hold that over his-" Finn starts before Sean stops him, and points out to what he's seen.

Sean and Finn look up over the horizon to see smoke coming from Puerto Lobos and the sound of police sirens blaring in the far distance. By the sound of it, at least one building is in flames, and 911 respondents are trying to keep control of the situation.

"Oh my God," Finn mutters "Think anyone's alright ?"

"Hopefully, it's probably just a house fire." Sean shakes his head "It should be under control - I hope it is, I mean."

Sean and Finn take a final look at the smoke rising in the distance, before turning back to rejoin the party.

Had they stayed a few minutes, they would have seen the carnage spread further; how SWAT helicopters and even state officers would turn up to try to stop whatever is happening, in a vain effort. Maybe they would have heard the sounds of hundreds of people screaming in terror, agony and despair, echoing across the landscape as they were being picked off as the sun disappeared.

What they could they not know was that there was something(s) that passed through Pueto Lobos, and is making its way to the club, onto the scent of blood.

-----

Later that same evening.

After Cassidy returned from her (third) bathroom break, she sat at her seat with Sean at the clubs bar.

"You sure you don't need something to drink ?" Finn asks her.

"Nothing alcoholic," Cassidy shakes her head.

"It must have been something she ate." Sean thought.

"Three weeks ago I saw you down a quarter of a keg in a funnel game. What's got you all designated driver tonight ?"

"I just thought I'd take it easy for a while."

Sean paid little heed to their conversation having made another attempt to call Daniel.

"Still no word from Daniel,." Sean says checking his phone.

"After seven calls ? I'm sure he's fine," Finn slides a drink to Sean, turning back to Cassidy "What was that thing you wanted to talk about ?"

"It can wait," Cassidy shakes her head, turning back to Sean "And between you and me, my money's on that he found a little lady friend."

"We've been over that," Sean sighs "Whenever something new happens with Daniel, he is always the first to tell me...I tried calling Claire and Stephen too; nothing."

"Worst case scenario's their phones aren't working." Cassidy starts.

"That's not the worse case scenario; I can think of a few more, but you probably don't want to hear them." Finn says.

-----

Outside the clubs gates, a car hastily pulls over. Two security guards approach the vehicle to see three disheveled men and a woman emerge, clearly in a panic.

Their clothes were covered in blood and soot, as they hastily make their way towards the gate. This put the guards on alert as one tries to calm the situation.

"Fácil fácil tigre. Donde esta el fuego ?" ("Easy easy, tiger. Where's the fire ?") A guard asks.

"Por favor, señor, ha habido un accidente por el camino. ¡Solo necesitamos usar el teléfono!" ("Please sir, there's been an accident down the road. We just need to use the phone!") A skinny man, who looked as if he had just finished crying, exclaims.

"Me temo que no podemos dejarte entrar aquí. Hay una boda en curso, y no podemos dejarte entrar aquí pareciendo-" ("I'm afraid we can't let you in here. There's a wedding going on, and we can't just let you in here looking like-")

"Oh, por el amor de Dios! Encontramos un chico! Maldita sea,Creo que se esta muriendo!" ("Oh for the love of God! We found a kid on the road! Dammit, I think he's dying!") The woman, still in hysterics exclaimed at the guards.

"Podemos dejar que uno de ustedes use el teléfono, pero no podemos permitir que interrumpas el-" ("We can let one of you in to use the phone, but we can't have you disrupting the-") One guard starts before a more cautious one interrupts.

"Where was this accident ?"

"Just off the highway, right on the coast-shore road. Come on man, you can see the smoke from here." One of the other passengers points at the large amounts of smoke rising from Puerto Lobos. Which one of the guards was quick to point out.

"There's something going on there. We don't know what but it looks like pandemonium. There's police blockades and everything! Goddamn, they might just send in the army while they're at it!"

One of the guards nods to his partner "Alright, we'll let you in to use the phone. I'll check on this kid you're talking about and see how bad he's hurt."

With that, the disheveled man follows the guard to his post, while the other guard walks up to the car. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from the shadows.

"They came out of nowhere!" The woman cried "I think they are following us! What kind of monster does this to a little boy ?"

The guard nods understandingly "I he still breathing ? Is he still conscious ?" While he tried to keep a calm, professional air about him, he was ill prepared for such a situation, let alone for what was about to happen.

At the post, the disheveled man was mumbling incoherently under his breath as he made his way towards the phone.

"You got a name, amigo ?"

"Sal. Sal Alonso." He mutters as he dials in the number. He waits several seconds before hanging up "It's nothing."

"The line's busy ?"

"No," Sal shakes his head "The line is dead."

Back at the car, the other guard peered into the backseat; kid had to be three to four years old, and that is what made it all the more spine tingling. And yet his hair was matted and dripping with the crimson liquid that drenched his clothes, and soaked his skin.

The woman was still in hysterics, being consoled by the two other men, while the guard climbs into the back seat. Cautiously, he reached towards the kids neck and felt for his pulse.

1...2...3...4...nothing...1...2...3...4...5 Nothing, but the smallest breath.

If the kid conscious, he wasn't showing it. One thing was for sure, the guard wasn't feeling any pulse, but he could hear the child breathing.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his partner screaming.

"Ahrck!" A garbled scream could be heard, as the other guard was thrown out of his post, bleeding heavily from the neck.

Above him, Sal emerges from the post, with a manic grin. In his teeth, he was carrying something - something that was fleshy.

The wounded guard takes his gun and points it at Sal, who simply reaches down and grabs hold of the arm before the trigger could be pulled, and rips it off by the elbow.

The maimed man couldn't scream, as his larynx was torn out, as Sal and the previously hysterical woman converged on him.

The other guard, who was frozen at the sight finally snapped, took hold of his own gun and pointed. Had he not let his guard down, the child in the back seat wouldn't have woken up, and gone for his jugular.

These creatures work fast but brutally, reducing the two guards to mincemeat without so much as a whimper. The otherwise quiet attack was echoed by the sound of a few vehicles pulling up; a black limo and four matching black pickup trucks, each filled with people.

You could almost heard the limo's radio blaring as it pulled to a stop; "Go Hard or Go Home" by Roy Jones Jr. From the front seat, the drivers open the back to let out a man appearing to be twenty five years of age. The man wears a dark red leather jacket, incrusted with diamonds and gold chains along the torso and sleeves, with a cig in hand. He surveys the area as the other trucks pull to a halt and their occupants clamber out, with the scent of blood in the air.

The man flicks his cigarette, as he walks to the trunk of the limo, opening it to reveal a dark metallic mask, which he puts on. Next he pulls from his trunk, a five foot long longsword.

He turns his head to address one of his newly arrived cronies. All of them wearing red and black gang colors and flags, many looked pale, corpse-like even. Like something out of a zombie movie.

"Is this it ? ¿Es este el lugar?" The man in the mask asks.

"Si, that's what their neighbors said."

"Not particularly loyal neighbors weren't they ?" The man in the mask replies "As usual ladies and gents; take prisoners, accept no surrender. When we find our target, leave him to me, least you wish for a blood eagle!" The man shouts, addressing the rest of his cronies, as they make their way towards the club.

The man in the mask looks down as he passes one of the guards, who has been reduced to a blood mess by the kid from the earlier group.

"Niño, did you do that by yourself ?"

The kid looks up, nervously at first, but nods with a proud smile.

The man turns to face the group from earlier "¿Ves eso, Alonso? Your brother wasn't bad for his first rodeo!" He adds with a friendly pat on the kid's head, before moving onwards.

----

Inside the club's reception Hall, the party was dying down. Many of the guests have left save for the bride, groom and several friends and family members.

Sean, Finn and Cassidy in the meantime, were still talking among themselves. This time about Finn's upcoming trip to Bear Creek, and what Daniel could be up to.

"Alright, Sean how about this? If I see that Daniel has a girlfriend, and has been dodging you because of her, you owe me 500 dollars. If not, than I owe you the same amount." Finn remarks.

"You're going have a pretty lousy financial experience then." Sean jokes "700 says he's still holding out on Lyla. He held onto that since kindergarten."

"Alright, I'll bite." Cassidy smirks with a roll in her eye "900 says you both are wasting your time and he just broke his phone or something."

"For real though, I could use the money." Finn adds "Thinking of getting him a gift. There's a game he's been waiting for that keeps getting delayed, and I know this guy who can pirate physical copies for a pri-"

Their conversation is cut off by the sound of screaming, as the doors from the entrance break open and a man is tossed as he slides across the floor. Both of the mans legs are cut off.

Stepping over him is a man in a mask, carrying a longsword over his shoulder as it it were a baseball bat. He began to speak over the mortified screaming and occasional weeping of the witnesses.

"Buenas noches, ladies and germs." The Masked man says "I know, weddings are very special occasions, but we have gone through so much trouble trying to get here. It would appear-" His speech is interrupted by the sound of the legless man, cursing up at him. The masked man's calm demeanor slips with the next sentence. "Leave my mother out of this!"

With a swing of his sword, the masked man slices the head off his shoulders and the entire room erupts into screams.

Finn took hold of Sean and Cassidy's wrists and pulled them over the bar and shushes them.

"There is an emergency exit just at the back. Just follow me and keep quiet." Finn whispers.

"We can't just leave them there!" Sean whispers harshly.

"What can we do, Sean ?" Finn looks over to see several people entering the hall as well, each covered in blood. It was almost as if they were going for a zombie like look, and Finn had a growing feeling they just want to play pretend.

"Sean, Finn's right," Cassidy whispers "There's nothing we can do..."

Finn sneakily crawls towards the back door, shushing the other two as the follow with him. The Man in the Mask continues his speech as his cronies advance on the wedding guests, and gather them into the center of the room.

"Now we are looking for a very special person, and by special, I do not mean disabled." The Masked Man remarks to the guests "Originally we were going to make this a less bloody mess, and you fine people, have it within your power to make it less, and less bloody. As some of you may know or not know, you have a wanted fugitive in your presence. We checked his home first, but a little birdy told us, he is one of the guests here."

Sean's eyes widen as he overhears this "Oh no...goddammit..." he whispers.

"I am not snitching for no one!" One of the Groom's friends shouts out.

"Then your loyalty is your end." The Man in the Mask remarks as he walks up to the mouthy guest, and drives the sword down into his head. Once again, the guests scream for their fallen.

In the midst of it all, the Man turned around, as if he heard the cry of a child behind him. He looks towards the front door, and yet see's nothing but the space between him and the wall. And judging by the non reaction from the other vamps, it would appear no one else has heard it. "Curious," he thinks to himself. His attention was caught by another shrill cry, just in front of him.

One woman became so hysterical that the Man in the Mask had to run her through, quickly getting annoyed by her outburst. "Oh, enough theatrics! If it were up to me, none of this would have been happening, but I am only here as a deal. You co-operate, you see the sunrise tomorrow. It's that simple."

"Please," the Bride weeps "Just don't kill us."

"I am not one who kills a woman on her wedding day. And frankly, these tasks are beneath me." The Man places the sword underneath her chin and raise her gaze to meet his "My friends though ? Have no such moral restraints, so I suggest you play ball; you may just save a lot of peoples lives."

The Man was interrupted when he hears the door close. He turns he attention to the bar, to see the back door.

"Looks like I have my answer." The Masked Man says to himself, before turning to one of his comrades "If you do not hear from me in an hour, do what you will with these good people...just don't kill the bride, it's her special day after all."

The Man bounds towards the door, as Sean, Finn and Cassidy make their way down the hall in a fast pace. Despite Finn locking the door behind him, the Masked Man barges through with a shove of his body. He spots them just in time to see Cassidy disappear around the corner from down a long hallway.

The Man maintains his pace, dragging his sword across the floor.

-----

By the time they reach their jeep, it was a matter of Finn opening opening the doors, and the three hastily getting in. By the time they turn on their headlights, they see the Masked Man emerging from the back door, staring them down.

At Sean and Cassidy's insistent urging, Finn started the car and tried to pull out of the club's back driveway and towards the front. Unfortunately, there was the matter of over a dozen "people" watching them with white gleaming eyes.

They were all unafraid, unmoving, as Finn was pulled to a sudden halt. A few of them grinned, shown their teeth - their very sharp teeth.

"Floor it!" Cassidy exclaims in a panic as these people made their ways toward the jeep.

Finn didn't need to be told twice. He put the pedal to the metal as the jeep barrels through the crowd. Many of them fell to the way side. Another rolled off the front, a few held on to the roof, side doors and bumper of the jeep.

Finn drove down the road, his two partners screaming at him to shake them off.

"I'm trying too!" Finn exclaims, zig-zagging around the road, as three of these creatures already fell off.

As they reach a forested area on the highway, Finn pulled the jeep into a halting stop as the one who was crawling on the roof was flung several feet in front of them. It looked like a man, and he was bouncing and twisting before he rolled to a stop.

"D-do, you think he's dead ?" Sean started to ask as they watched the body for a few seconds.

"Don't jinx it-" Finn starts before Cassidy screams.

Look in the rearview window, they see several sets of white eyes making their way through the darkness. And the man in front of them started to get back up, grotesquely pulling and popping several joints back in place.

Finn floors the jeep again "I told you not to jinx it!"

The jeep barrels over the man in front of them as it made it's way back to town.

While Finn tried to keep himself focused on the road, Sean and Cassidy were hysterically going over just what the hell these things were. What they were saying wasn't exactly coherent due to their panic, but they all but reached the conclusion these were zombies.

By the time Puerto Lobos was on the horizon, they saw the town in smoke, flames and multiple people, all disheveled, bruised, broken, being escorted out by state officers and ambulances.

A police car, not too off in front of them flashes it's headlights as an male officer walks into the middle of the road waving the jeep down.

While Sean tried to keep calm with Cass and Finn, internally all three of them were screaming.

In Sean's case, it's because the police were the ones giving him and his brother grief for so long.

For...obvious reasons, Sean was nervous and uneasy around the cops. He still wasn't sure he could trust them after everything that happened; he thought he could avoid putting all the bad eggs in the same basket. He thought maybe the police in Mexico would be different but word spreads, especially if one has the same infamous as Sean. It would seem that Sean's rep as a possible "cop killer" has spread here and was just as divisive.

Even after subsequent investigations, Sean still got the occasional "We'll be keeping an eye on you." from the local police as he started settling in. Boys in blue look after their own after all. From then, Sean made a point to avoid the police when he could.

In this case, the police officer in question appeared to be among those trying to help protect the civilians from...whatever is happening here.

The officer taps the window, which Finn rolls down.

"Hey, what's going on ?" Finn nervously asks "There's been-I don't know something happened at the country club up the road."

"Yeah, something happened here too," The officer nods "This area's been closed off until we get things under control. We're trying to get everyone out of here, somewhere safe."

Then the officer notices the blood on the front of the jeep.

"What is that from ?"

"That- that was-" Sean starts before he is interrupted.

"Whatever those things are, they're been chasing us down. One of them fell in front of us." Cassidy explains with a shaky nod "You've seen them too, haven't you ?"

The officer nods "Okay then, are any of you okay ?"

"Just a little shaken." Sean answers truthfully.

"Alright, we're gonna get some paramedics here to look you three over, just to be sure." The officer explains "There's something spreading out over the area, and- and we need to make sure none of you are bitten. Just need to you step out for a minute."

Reluctantly, the three of them stepped out, as the officer waved over an ambulance and two paramedics stepped out.

Sean, Finn and Cassidy reluctantly did as asked. Told to put their hands on the side of the jeep for a frisking, they were told to take off their jackets, unbitten their shirts, roll up, and even take off their pants.

In Cassidy's case, it was was to lift her dress.

As the paramedics explained "Just a precaution; we're only making sure you aren't hiding any bite marks on us."

They were padded up and down their arms, legs and torsos.

Sean could admit he's been in more embarrassing and humiliating situations, but he didn't think of the precautions. If the worst case scenario was happening, and this was a zombie apocalypse of sorts, this had to be done and gotten over with.

That's when they felt something small and sharp press into their necks.

-----

Sean was not expecting to see what he saw when he came too. He thought that he would be in an ambulance, or hospital. Even a jail cell.

The back seat of the limo was about the ninety seventh thing he thought he'd end up in.

His vision was still blurry, but as far as he could tell it was still night out. There appeared to be a light shining above him, always changing from red, green, blue and purple. In the ringing of his ear could tell him that the limo's speakers were blaring Tech9's "Caribou Lou".

Sean was sluggish and could barley move, but he managed to turn his head beside him. Finn and Cassidy were beside him on their seat, still undressed as they were as they were being frisked.

Between them, Cassidy and Finn were not as out of it as Sean was, but they were still unmoving. Most likely out of mortification than whatever drug they were given. Maybe Sean was given a bigger dose, but when he turned his head, he saw just what spooked them.

Sitting on the far end seat, was a man, given the way he was dressed, he was most certainly the Masked Man at the Country Club. Of course he wasn't wearing a mask, but his face was obscured by the shade, and Sean's own blurry vision.

At the man's side, sat two naked women, groping and playing with each other, absolutely doped out of their minds, and barely paying the man sitting between them any attention other than to climb over and around him. On the floor between the seats, was another set of nude woman scissoring each other. If Sean's vision was clear he would have noticed that it looked like neither of them wanted to be here.

The man spoke, and for all of Sean's hearing fading in and out, he could hear the man's voice as being pretty coherent.

"Well, looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake. Welcome back to the Land of the living Mr. Diaz, and the Land of the Free." The man lights a cigarette, offering a pack to his "guests", who don't respond. "More for me then."

"Where- where are we ?" Sean asked, under his breath in a groggy voice, but this was no issue for the man.

"Cameron County, Texas, Mr. Diaz." The Man answers "We have a place set up here for you three for the time being, so please get comfortable." He gestures to the women scissoring on the floor before him, both looking on the verge of tears "Enjoy the entertainment."

Finn doubles over onto the floor in a coughing fit, and Cassidy sits down to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

Sean felt something on his lip, and when he touched it, he saw he was bleeding from the nose.

The Man continues speaking after taking another deep huff of his cig, blowing out a deep cloud of smoke as he addresses Sean once again.

"You've been enjoying this little vacation of yours for a while now Mr. Diaz, and unfortunately, I had to get off my tuchus, roll my way down to Mexico. And you know why ?"

Sean doesn't answer. He completely out of breath just by trying to sit up. The most he could do was shake his head.

"Favor for a friend." The man shrugs "My family, has made a lot of friends the past few years, and have taken to making deals with them." He casually flicks his cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out. "In your case, Mr. Diaz, you and your brother have made some new friends of mine angry with your actions the last few years. Dirty secrets unaired, reputations ruined, put everyone through over a year of drama, all over a couple of dead bodies. Well, myself and Mother's other children have been making deals with certain organizations, one of which has a special interest in getting your brother back into their loving hands, and you to pay for your sins against them."

"Daniel," Sean found his voice and found his protective big brother instinct kick in "I swear to God if you-"

"Relax, our boys in Beaver Creek haven't found anything of him...yet." The Man leans forward, the light showing just a bit more of his face as he glances down at Finn and Cassidy "As for your friends, I've been asking around and it appears your boy-toy has a bounty in Montana for skipping bails. As for your little girlfriend, her family have been missing her dearly; willing to pay just as dearly too. And frankly, I've been planning on getting a new car, so I could use an extra couple thousand in my pocket."

The man gets up and steps over the two women on the floor as he leers down at Sean "I'll tell you what, you got a nice little compound to yourself, keep you nice and safe and cozy, and we'll be sure to send you an update on Daniel, for every-" Just as he was saying this, they were all caught off guard as something slams into the front of the limo, causing everyone in the back to fall onto the floor.

Another slam, and they felt the limo spin and roll down a ravine, and into a shallow riverbank.

Sean's vision went blank.

When he came too again, he saw he was being hoisted from the river by both Finn and Cassidy. He saw the two women on the floor climbing up the river bank.
He kept fading in and out, but as he faded back in, he would see blue flashing lights and a pair of dark cars.

Sean felt himself become weak in the knees, as he fell into the dirt beneath him.

-----

March 25th, 2020

It was finally daylight hours when Sean awoke again, although it was raining. The bright lights of the hospital room almost annoyed him, but he was used to it from the last time he was in the hospital like this.

Hopefully things will turn out a little better for him this time around, but he doubted it. He was back in the states after all. And as he felt his head spinning from disorientation, he saw he had company in the room.

It was a young woman, about his age give or take a few years. She wasn't dressed like one would expect; nothing to indicate she was a cop, FBI agent, but rather like she was an Agents of Shield cosplayer; she looked to be Asian American which could bring to mind Melinda May, but really she brought someone else to Sean's mind.

"L-Lyla ?"

"Afraid not, sorry to disappoint." The woman answers. With Sean's vision clear, he was sure this wasn't Lyla.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew." Sean apologizes.

"It's cool." The woman says taking a seat beside his bed "You've been saying her name and the names of other people."

Sean looks over at his wrist. The last time he was in this situation, he had to wear a cuff to the bed until they were sure he was stable. To his curiosity, there was no cuff.

"I'm not arrested, am I ?"

"Should you be ?" The woman asks.

"Are you not a cop ?" Sean asks "I'm still a fugitive in these parts."

"Ah, must have escaped my notice when I was looking into your story. But you answer your question, no I'm not a cop. I'm not with the government either, so you can relax. I do want to ask and talk to you about what you've seen, but I don't want to freak you out until we're sure you are in stable condition." The woman answers "Your friends are alright by the way. You've been out for five days, but  otherwise everything checks out. Your boyfriend and girlfriend are being treated in the next wing."

Sean's eyes widen "boyfriend and girlfriend" ? At least he knows they're okay, but he wanted to keep the exact nature of their relationship on the downlow. The woman notices Sean's shocked and concerned expression before she clarifies.

"Hey, you do you, kid. I'm not here to judge. Love is love, man." The woman fakes a cough "In any case, they filled me in, and I think you may be more comfortable if we go with first names." The woman reaches her hand out to shake Sean's "Name's Emily."

Sean takes Emily's hand to shake it "Sean, although I guess you already knew that. Can I ask where we are ?"

"Denison, Texas. My people had this wing closed off, so you and your friends should be in safe hands. As far as everything's concerned, you are key witnesses to what happened in Puerto Lobos, and Cameron County, but I figure you could use a familiar face to help break things down for you." Emily turns her head to the door, and as if on cue, Finn opens it, dressed in a hospital gown.

"Hey there, wolf boy," Finn awkwardly smiles, carrying two bags of chips in one hand, and bottles of soda in his other arm as he walks up to the bag "I take it I missed you waking up, but I figured you could use a bite."

"Thanks, haven't eaten in days." Sean says, taking a bag and immediately digging in.

"I'll give you two some privacy," Emily says before correcting herself "Although this room is being monitored so the offer is a moot point." Emily says, getting up from her seat and heading out the door.

Finn smiles as he takes her seat "So you good enough to walk man ?"

"I think my bad eye is acting up, but other than that I'm feeling alright." Sean shrugs.

"We'll get a doc or nurse to look at that," Finn nods, but his smile flattens "But Sean, these people, I don't think they're any law enforcement I've heard about. They kept this wing cut off from the rest of the hospital and are asking and telling us things...like that Emily girl laid a lot on me and Cass when we woke up."

"What did she say ?"

Finn sighs, opens his soda and take a drink before saying "I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna lay it all out for you," Finn inhales deeply before exhaling "Vampires exist, man."

This momentarily threw Sean off "W-what ?"

"Those things back in Mexico ? They were vampires." Finn said, raising one hand and another to emphasize his point.

Sean was at a loss for words, not that he didn't try to say something; he knew that something supernatural exists in this world, but never seriously considered their existence; back in the day he's heard many an urban legends of Skinwalkers, demonic possession; there were times he and Daniel used to jokingly look out for Bigfoot during their travels. He remembers the year before his dad died, at a Halloween party, he and the other played a game Ouija Board that supposedly contacted the Slenderman, and no one can could prove that was a prank.

Hell, Daniel's powers alone show Sean that there is something in this world beyond the mundane.

In short, Sean was thinking he probably shouldn't be too surprised.

Finn continues "Anyways, we were taken here by this group that have been hunting them, and they wanted to look us over; make sure none of us were bitten or anything, and they wanted to ask us questions when we come too. Luckily, everything checked out, and Cassidy hasn't had any complication-"

Finn stops himself before he finishes. Sean eyes him suspiciously.

"Finn, what were you saying about Cass ?" Sean asks.

"It's - not really my place to say. She wants to tell you herself." Finn says.

"Tell me what ?" Sean says, climbing out of bed, but finds himself unbalanced and sitting on the edge.

They are interrupted by the sound of a door knocking. Emily opens the door.

"Alright, I figure this is my cue to give you the rundown, but your girlfriend has been asking to see when you're up. You feeling up for it, kid ?" Emily asks.

Sean nods "How is she ? What's happening too her ?"

"She's fine, she just wants to see you. You need help standing or walking, or do you think you can manage ?"

Sean could manage to stand but it took him a bit to get used to using his legs.

----

Sean and Finn walked down a mostly empty hall, mostly occupied by men and women, that like Emily, wouldn't be out of place in Agents of Shield with how they dressed. Cassidy's room was five doors down.

When Sean has Cassidy's door opened, she's sitting on her bed in a hospital gown of her own, casually reading a book. She turns to Sean, and a smile quickly forms on her face.

"There's my wolfman," Cassidy beams as she gets up from the bed to give Sean a great big bear hug "I've been worried about you." She says with a kiss on the cheek.

"I've been worried about you too, honey." Sean says, kissing her on the temple.

"So...vampires, huh ?" Cassidy says with an small smile.

"Yeah, I almost hoped it'd be zombies." Sean says with an chuckle of his own "All that video game training, wasted."

"Chris Redfield would be disappointed." Finn adds jokingly, shaking his head while patting Sean on the shoulder, with Cassidy reaching her hand up to touch Finn's. Sean added his own hand in the equation as they held each others hands.

"So..." Sean finally speaks before "Finn's been saying you want to tell me something ? Are you okay ? Like you haven't been...bitten or anything, have you ?"

Cassidy shakes her head with an awkward smile "No, nothing like that...but, you know how I have been sick for a while now ?"

"Yeah ?" Sean says, but the infliction in his voice made it sound like he was asking a question "Is- is it bad, Cass ?"

Cassidy glances to the side nervously, complete with a bite on her lower lip, not exactly able to find the words. Luckily actions speak louder than words.

Cassidy takes Sean's hand out of Finn's and off his shoulder, and begins to guide it down downwards...and placing it on her stomach.

For one of many instances in his life, Sean felt his world stop. A billion things have been going though his head at once. He thought he hit a speedbump at the discovery that he was back in the states, that vampires existed, and now Cassidy was telling him this!

Cassidy guided her hand upwards, placing it on Sean's cheek; a sad smile forms on her face as she presses her forehead to Sean's.

"Three weeks Sean," Cassidy said "remember when I was acting up, and you and Finn took that trip ? Well, I guess we know why I was sick that weekend."

"H-how did this happen ?" Sean finally found his voice.

"You were there, remember ?" Cassidy smiles "I missed my monthly visitor last week, and I had my suspicions, but I didn't know until the docs here told me."

"So, uh..." Finn starts "What- what do you think Sean ?"

Sean took a deep gulp before snakingly asking "Do...are you planning on keeping it ?"

Cassidy looks down, before saying with a shaky voice of her own "I- I don't know yet. I just wanted you to know, because I think you should have a say, Sean. I found out myself, and I still don't know what to make of this...but I just want to know, that whatever happens, you will be there, for me."

Sean looks down and after a moment of thinking, presses his hand back on Cassidy's stomach.

"I'm not leaving your side, Cass. Not after this, and not after what we just been through." Sean says, taking Cassidy into a hug "We're going to figure this out together." Sean looks over his shoulder at Finn "All of us."

Finn smiles with a pat on Sean's back "I've always got your back, Sean, and you Cass. I never ditched the two of you and I don't intend to start now, but..."

"But what ?" Cassidy asks.

"What about Uncle Daniel ?" Finn asks "We still haven't heard from him, and if that masked guy says is any indication, we aren't the only ones looking for him..."

"Not that I want to interrupt this bittersweet family moment, but there's something we've been meaning to talk to you about." The trio turn around to see Emily leaning at the doorway, having blown and popped a bubble from gum she was chewing.

----

Shortly afterwards, Sean, Finn and Cassidy where sat down for questioning by Emily and two other "guards" as they called themselves.

"So here's the rundown," Emily explains "The official story - the one we are going to have the police and feds believe - is that you three are key witnesses to our ongoing investigation of sex crime syndicate; this is the half the truth." Emily starts.

Another speaks up "The people we are looking for, are in fact part of a crime family, involved in the three big bad trafficking ops; sex, drugs and weapons. We were trying to make an arrest that night we found you, but the man we were looking for got away in the confusion. So for now, you're in protective custody. Any questions ?" The other one, a young man named Michael asks.

Sean raises his hand this time "Does anyone on your team have anything on Beaver Creek ?"

"Not our team specifically," Emily says "But we have some friends of ours looking into it."

"What exactly happened there anyways ?" Cassidy asks "It's just that's where his brother lives."

"There's...been an incident. Like I said, our friends are looking into it." Michael says.

"What do you know so far ?" Sean asks.

"You seen what happened in Puerto Lobos, right?" Emily says.

"Oh no," Sean says dreading the answer.

"There is a Daniel Diaz on the missing persons list. An Agent Flores is looking into his disappearance, but she's been also asking to speak to you once you're checked out." Emily says.

Sean immediately gets from the bed and hastily walks to the bag of clothes, but Michael puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa whoa, easy tiger!" Michael says "I can understand what you're going through, but you just can't run off like that."

"My brother is missing and could be dead, you do not want to make this situation worse!" Sean says angrily.

"And neither do you, which is why you are not going to run away again." Michael says taking Sean by both his shoulders and forcibly sitting him back down onto the bed.
A combination of fear, anxiety and washed over Sean at once, but ultimately the former two outweighed the latter, and he slumped down onto the bed with a shaky sigh.

"I just can't leave him," Sean shakes his head "I can't loose him again."

"I can understand that, but Sean, we already took risks making sure you can be trusted. You run away now, and another manhunt will start for you." Michael says "Look kid, I get it. Bout five years back, when I thought my girlfriend was killed, there was nothing I wouldn't have done to make sure she was safe or alive. I've been were you are, and I would have done anything to have the choice we're about to give you."

"What's that ?" Sean ask.

This time Emily speaks up "After some friends and I learned the hard way that monsters exist, these people started following us. Turn out where there's monsters, there are hunters. We were put into protective custody after another incident, and to make a long, long story short, a few of us ended up being monster hunters ourselves."

It takes a moment for this to sink in to Sean before he asks "So, what, we sign some papers and then we become hunters too ?"

"Not all of you," Emily shakes her head "Firstly, you don't have the same training or experience as us. Second, we can't recruit her considering her present condition, so she'd be under protective custody as well." she adds jabbing a thumb at Cassidy.

"Think of it like this," Michael starts "We worked our way into being Marines, while you guys are still at Cub Scout level. The rundown is you can go to places we are investigating, even help out, but going into the line of fire is inadvisable."

Sean shakes his head "Don't you think the police are going to be a problem for us ?"

"Not too much," Emily states "They know of the cover story, that you three are key witnesses to a sex crime, and going over your file, there is reasonable doubt that you killed that cop way back when. They'll priotitize you as a witness over everything else. You should be fine, even if it is thin ice."

As she was saying this Mike took out three contracts, placing them in Sean and Finn's hand.

"This is the only way ?" Sean asks.

"The only legally flexible way." Michael nods.

"If that's what it takes to find our wolf cub." Finn nods, before signing his way through the contract he's been given.

Looking over, Sean sighs with a nod of his own.

"If that's what it takes."

And with that, Sean signs.

----

Seattle Washington, University District, March 28th, 2020

And that is how, Sean, Finn and Cassidy found themselves in Seattle.

Now members of the American Guard, as they call themselves, they were granted two safe houses; one in Seattle itself, the other in Pierce County.

It was probably not a good idea to settle into the city first. As they made their way up the driveway, they noticed a few neighbors eyeing them suspiciously. It wasn't the same house Sean, Daniel and their dad lived in, but it was around the same neighborhood.

Needless to say, it was a long couple of days to get back on their feet. Ostensibly, Sean was a free man, but he knew what he really was; a dog on a leash. He made phone calls to Agent Flores, once again for transparency.

He learned that the cover story was accepted, and that he and his "housemates" were witnesses to a sex ring. Flores expressed concern as Daniel being a witness to other illegal activity is what's believed to have triggered the Beaver Creek incident.

Sean's first order of business to find out what he could about what happened in Beaver Creek, but truth be told, he was tired after everything that's happened the past four days. The work would begin tomorrow. In the meantime, Sean called Lyla to fill her in on what's happening, but only told her half the truth. He figured she wasn't ready for the truth about vampires or how he and Finn joined an organization of hunters.

That night, it was Finn's turn to cook, and Sean usually found himself glued to Cassidy's side, especially in light of recent news. He joined her in the shower while Finn was prepping supper. Nothing sexual happened there, but Sean found himself singing with Cassidy, as they usually did in the shower ("Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong")

And covered Sean's first night home.

----

Elsewhere, in Madison Park, Seattle

Late in the evening, a two year old makes his way up a hallway to his mothers bedroom, carrying with him, a stuffed white rabbit named Alice.

As he started knocking, his mother expectedly opens.

"Another nightmare, Bill ?" the woman asks patiently.

The child, Bill, nods.

"Alright you little stinker," the woman smiles warmly picking her son up "Mama Bear's got you,"

Bill cutely buries his head in her shoulder, mumbling "It was that same man."

This made his mother freeze a little, as she carried him into her bed.

"Is that so ?" she asks, tucking him in his usual spot, where he would sleep between his two moms "And what was he doing this time ?"

"Fighting someone," Bill mutters "He still had that sword, but he was fighting another man with a sword." He pretends to clang his fingers together in a matter similar to a sword fight.

"Ah, I see." His mother says, climbing into bed and cuddling up to him "Who was winning ?"

"They both stabbed each other." Bill answers.

"Did he look at you again ?"

"They both saw me, but kept fighting." Bill says.

"Did they try to hurt you ?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Well the important thing is, you are okay." His mother says, nuzzling her nose to his "And when you wake up tomorrow, you'll be okay too."

"Promise ?"

"Of course. I'm a mom of my word." She says before kissing him on his forehead.

With that, Mama Bear's little cub nuzzled his way to sleep. But true to the moniker of Mama Bear, his mother was still roused from her sons troubles.

Looking over at the clock, it read 9:02 PM.

Max's nightshift should be up by now.

Chloe steps out to go to the bathroom, making sure not to wake Bill up, and she takes her phone off the charger.

Calling Max's number she was quickly answered.

"Hey, Chlo, what's up ?"

"The sky, the stars, the sun, the roof and the moon." Chloe answers "I didn't call on a bad time, did I ?"

"I'm just driving. You have me on speaker." Max says.

"Bill's been having a bad dream again, just letting you know in advance." Chloe says.

"Oh no," Max sighs "How bad was it ?"

"Not as bad as that Red Wedding one he had the other night," Chloe says, looking into the mirror "Says that same man is in it though."

"He hasn't been out that much, does he know who it is this time ?" Max asks.

"If he does, he doesn't say." Chloe shakes her head "I don't understand; he rested like an angel at his aunts," she pauses before she asks cautiously "You don't think we're haunted, do you ?"

"Chloe, not this again; that painting was a gift from my mom. It's not staring at you." Max says with a sigh.

"I swear I saw it blink!" Chloe says "Anyways, what I'm saying is we're going to have to talk to Bill about this tomorrow his dreams tomorrow; it can't be good for the kid to have this many nightmares in a row. Especially about...what he's been talking about."

"Think we should see Dr. Collins again ?" Max asks.

"If all else fails I guess," Chloe shrugs "See you when you get home."

"See you then." Max says as the call ends.

In the mean time, Bill Caufield Price was back in dreamland.

Yet again, he was watching decades worth of stories being told; he saw King Arthur claim Excalibur, the knights are his round table, the drama of Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere. The addition of vampires, and werewolves, was not part of any stories of Arthur he'd learn of in school, and yet they were ever present in his dreams

And finally, he was once again seeing Mordred's conception, birth, how he grew into his usurpation and duel with Arthur. All the while, the voice of the Blood Queen sang/chanted ("Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, only to me").

At least this time, when Bill woke up, he was snuggled between Chloe and Max; the latter's arms wrapped around him, holding him to her chest. Chloe's smile could be heard as she greeted Bill's awakening.

"See ? I told you you'd be alright."

Chapter Text

March, 27th, 2020

"Alright Diaz, your up. Knock em dead."

"Or don't, you be in for more time."

That was about the two things the guard said to Sean as they led him down a long hallway and towards a pair of doors.

Sean could say everyone was disappointed in this scenario.

Even he was mildly disappointed by his time inside. While prison was no picnic, he could count his blessings he wasn't being raped and beaten on the daily...such attacks were more of a monthly thing, and even then they didn't go beyond threats.

At least when he finds himself crying himself to sleep, he isn't the only one.

On the upside this was the latest of three meetings he was to attend so as to get time off his sentence.

Over the trial, Sean learned more about the investigation of Officer Matthews death, and just what he was being pinned for. There was even some media coverage, he saw or overheard.

It was quite bizarre just how there was a feeling of want in the air; it was as if they needed Sean to kill Officer Matthews to fit the narrative they built up. If that wasn't the case they were just punishing a second hand victim of police brutality, and by golly, that would just look terrible. But alas, the investigation found nothing to officially tie Sean or Daniel as being Matthews killers.

Forensics, it does wonders.

So what did detractors get ? A wave of disappointment that flowed in the air when Sean and Daniel were shown to be not guilty in Matthews death.

Goodbye simplistic Cop Killer narrative. Hello a more complicated investigation on the brothers and what happened that day.

It's the everything else Sean was being pinned for. Repeatedly running away from law enforcement, assault on Brett Foster, the fire at Fischer's church (in which Sean was made to be an accomplice) and that showdown at the border. Of course, the statements Sean made to the border patrol and Agent Flores where used to against him.

Anything to get Sean inside.

Due to all the holes in the narrative, and lack of actual witnesses, Officer Matthews death was a inconclusive investigation. As a result Sean gets fifteen years for the comparatively minimal charges.

To Sean's curiosity, Brett Foster was also briefly considered a suspect, due to character witnesses being brought in for both the Diaz brothers and Brett, especially as the primary witness to the incident and by all accounts an instigator.

This was the result of a "He Said, He Said" narrative and character witnesses.

Sean knew Brett wasn't a killer and never made such claims, but he did note how defensive the same media coverage was for Brett when they were quick to condemn him. Brett was characterized by witnesses as more of a trouble maker than Sean.

Sure, he was a Cub Scout as a kid, but a little digging shown he was kicked out for killing a squirrel. The short version is a known racist, abelist student, with a sordid social life, who was caught twice peeping in the girls locker room, wasn't exactly the victim he was initially paraded around to be.

A look into his home life and the discovery of fireworks in his closet, and the only reason Brett wasn't seriously considered a suspect was the lack of gunpowder or residue found on the scene. You could almost hear certain media outlets collectively sigh in relief.

And so Sean was back to being the scapegoat. A convenient perp who needed to be made an example of...

----

To quote this country song Cassidy sang to him, Sean's been here for two long years, and he finally made the Warden his friend. Unlike the convict in the song, he didn't have to take care of any dogs.

Sean got Warden Ashton's attention when Sean was assigned to clean his office. Under watch of course. It was a three hour job, but two of those were spent having talks.

Ashton was a man with two kids and an ex wife. They're still friends, but Ashton put his focus in the job, and aimed to rehabilitate young convicts, such as Sean.

"I notice you've been carrying that book of yours, care to tell me what it's about ?" The Warden brings up while offering Sean a cigarette.

"It's just drawings." Sean answers as he finishes polishing off the officer chairs legs.

"Of what ?"

"Nothing important." Sean says dismissively.

"Must be important for you to carry this around all the time." Ashton crushes the cigarette under his shoe.

Sean sighs, wagering he's probably going to get frisked about it. He recalls being checked for drugs three times since he got in here, and having his cell searched. If the Warden wanted to see stuff, he would. Rolling his eyes, Sean nods "Sure, give it a look. Free country and all that."

While Sean was busy cleaning through the windows, Ashton spoke again; "You know, you've got an eye for details and story telling, anyone ever tell you that kid ?"

"I was ahead of my class in art and English," Sean nods "Look, I know what you're gonna say - It's a wasted talent kid! You could of been a great artist but instead-" Sean starts before he is interrupted.

"First off, I don't sound that much like Colonel Sanders," Ashton says handing the journal back "Secondly, you do have genuine talent, and contrary to what others might tell you, you still got a shot." Ashton takes his seat and leans back "Anyone tell you about our arts program ?"

"I...no, I never really talk that much to others."

"It's what we use to help rehabilitate. Should be right up your alley. Your put your work out there, you can make a better name for yourself."

Sean scoffs a little and sets aside the rag he's been using "Not from in here though, right ?"

"No, from in here." Ashton says "Do you know how many books have been written in prison ? You've got Oscar Wilde, Nelson Mandela, Adolf- okay, he might not be the best example. Point is, you learn to utilize your talents more, you can make use of your time while doing time."

"You really think so ?" Sean asks.

"I know it. Hell, one inmate here was a teacher...of course we don't let him around the other inmates, but that's a whole other story all together." Ashton shrugs "Tell you what, I get you into that program, you play ball, and I might put in a good word for you in the next hearing."

This caught Sean off guard "Ex-excuse me ?"

"Come now Sean, even a guy like me knows a decent kid with a talent like yours shouldn't be in a cage for something there was no evidence of what he did or didn't do. Truth be told, if it were up to me, half the young people in here would be out quicker."

----
Sean sat down for this fourth hearing since he's been locked up, but this was a new place, and new people addressing him. Those he never met since the day before.

"Now Mr. Diaz, we have been told about the progress you've been making. Congrats on getting that book out there by the way."

"Thanks," Sean says, knowing not to talk too much or too friendly with someone new in office.

"Care to elaborate how you've been treated in there ? We just wish to know if this was a safe environment for you."

----

In the time he's been in here, he hasn't really made any real friends.

There's been friendly faces, and not so friendly faces.

Sean knew to avoid the bald guys with tattoos. To be honest he felt more at home with the colored youths in here; no doubt also thrown in on trumped up charges.

Sean's friends would visit him almost every month. Each week, Sean would get a letter form Daniel, or be allowed to call him. Sometimes it would be Lyla, sometimes it would be Karen, Finn, Cassidy, Jacob.

Sean only made the request that they not bring Daniel here too much during visits. Sean didn't want him to see him like this. When Daniel first heard the news, there was a weeks long period he didn't write.

Sean was able to catch up with what's happening in Beaver Creek; Sean has been allowed to read up on the news outside and between that and the regular correspondences with his people, which gave him a good picture of what was happening.

Agent Flores was put in charge at monitoring Daniel for the time being. Daniel, says he overheard a mention that it wasn't just the FBI looking at him, but something called "The Foundation". Sean was sure he misread something about anomalies, but the subject was quickly changed.

From what he's gathered, Daniel has revealed a lot in his testimony when he was put through the legal system; going into details of Lisbeth Fischer's compound there has been no concrete evidence of illegal activity, aside from an under the books attempt at adopting Daniel, but she was all but exposed as a fraud. Along with Jacob, Daniel was essential in the FBI looking into the questionable activity of Lisbeth herself, her church and her staff.

Unfortunately, like many good sheep of the kind, the lot of her followers stayed at Lisbeth's side. There is noise that the FBI are investigating her further, and while there's no warrant for her arrest, time will tell.

Sean's been following that case because of how personal it was to Daniel and Jacob, and he learned that a few witnesses and even FBI agents, ended up missing over the last week and that Fischer has taken to isolating her community. Nothing significantly happened yet and as far as he knows FBI investigation is still ongoing, so it's only a matter of time.

At this point, Daniel's ties to Officer Matthew's death was all but forgotten. Now, the government was more interested in what he's been through, over what he did.

Daniel also spoke about Hank Stamper's assault and kidnapping of Sean, which got the Stamper's investigated; a local family by admitted to seeing Hank dragging an unconscious Sean when they pulled in at the station, and saw Daniel flee the scene.

They didn't say anything at the time as they knew Hank and took his word when he explained himself, which led to the Flores questioning the Stampers. When questioned with this information, Doris Stamper folded pretty quickly and ended up confessing to what her husband did.

Ultimately, Hank wasn't going to see jailtime, aside from wearing an ankle bracelet of his own, and two years parole; when news got out, there's been instances where the Stamper's receiving harassment over the incident; on top of that lawsuit the Reynolds family put them through, it was hardly a smack on the wrist.

In the meantime, Sean has been able to write and get a book published; it was a young adult graphic novel, about a pair of wolf brothers going across the country when their father was killed by a hunter, who was struck by lightning. The comic gained a large cult following, although some may criticize it for how on the nose it's political issues and unsubtle it's themes of racism, homo/biphobia and religious fraud are.

Some may say the older wolf's unfortunate encounter with a pair of sheepdogs didn't contribute much to the story and felt like it was only there for shock value.

Other than that, Sean was able to make a sizable fortune within prison, despite not having any access to the money himself. And on top of that, Sean has received hundreds of fan letters over the past seven months.

As for Sean's people on the outside, his friend Lyla was also running a podcast on social justice, and has been one of his many liaisons to his old life and through social media.

His other liaisons include, the Heckerman siblings, Jacob and Sarah Lee, who have settled in Beaver Creek, and for a while spent time in the Reynolds house. From what Sean heard, Sarah Lee, Daniel and Chris are as thick as thieves. So far Jacob has been fitting in with Beaver Creek, and has become a friend of the family, and got a job at a grocery store. He tells Sean that Claire has been helping him come to terms with his faith, while Finn was helping him come to terms with his sexuality whenever Finn went.

Ever since their time at Merrill's camp, Sean, Finn and Cassidy became a tight nit. Being Sean's first and current serious girlfriend and the woman he lost his virginity to would do that, Cassidy was a frequent letter sender, as well as pictures of what she and Finn have been up to. Some of the pictures sent were for Sean's eyes only.

A lot of the letters came from both Cass and Finn, and considering how they tend to blur, quite a few of Sean's friends on the inside teased him about having two prizes at once.

Not helping is that when one said so in Finn's earshot, Finn parted ways from that visit with an open mouth kiss to Sean, that got a few hoops and hollers from surrounding inmates. And a few unwanted looks and comments.

After a while, it became something a running joke among staff and inmates of whether Sean's "girlfriend" or "boyfriend" would be the one to pay him a visit over the last four months.

A couple weeks back, it was Cassidy, and which ended up being an extended conjugal visit visit. A "congratulations" by the prison staff for Sean getting his graphic novel published.

-----

Back in this new office, these new people continue their lines of questions.

"Ah, it's good to see you're making a name for yourself out there, and have something to look forward to when you get out."

"Like I said, thanks." Sean nods awkwardly.

"And we've been told you were making outstanding progress, but I still have concerns; surely there was bad times on the inside, where they not. You've never been assaulted ? Harassed ? Was there any inmates that you didn't get along with ?"

Sean sighs "Now that you mentioned it, is...he alright ?"

----

As stated, you can get along just fine in prison when you know who to avoid.

Sean hasn't made that many friends in the past two years, and kept to himself mostly. He's gotten a better reputation in the pen when he was writing his comic, and got it published.

Suddenly some of the same thugs who were sending him taunts and death threats when he first got here, where now giving him congratulations and pats on the back.

One thing Sean learned while in here was how you were treated in prison depends on the severity of the crime you were accused off. And the kind of person you were on the outside.

For example, if you are a genuine cop killer, you get beaten almost on the reg by the guards over the smallest slip, when they aren't giving you the stink eye. The guards are more likely to look away if/when you are beaten and/or raped by the other inmates, and more than likely to beat the ever loving snot out of you just to try to frisk you.

About four months into his sentence, and they got new meat in the form of Murray Thompson; a drug dealer who executed a rookie beat cop in cold blood, for taking too long to bribe, in accordance to a deal he made with dirty cops in the neighborhood. Needless to say the deal was broken and Thompson was sent up the creek in a matter of weeks. Months later, Sean was taken out of his cell, and made to watch while armed guards beat Thompson to pulp over what turned out to be sneaking an orange in his cell.

He remembered this one guard, Vinny, made Sean face him and told Sean "Count yourself real lucky kid, this could have been you." Thompson ended up getting permanent brain damage from the beat down, and Sean didn't speak to anyone for weeks after that.

More of the "friendly faces" Sean met where from African American and Hispanic ones, as some of the ones who were involved with street crime where easy protection against the few skin heads who also turned up here. A few of the skinheads where murdered by other inmates over the past two years, so Sean having to deal with racist white prisoners became low on the totem poll.

Then you've got passive white prisoners, who prefer not getting involved in any potential race war, and when they do, they get signaled out by either side for taking "the wrong side".

It did not distract that some of the "gangs" formed in prison are largely made from genuine thugs, drug dealers, pimps. It was more of the same inside than outside.

A lot of colored youth who end up here were mostly just kids who got in over their head, and yet they turn to these gangs as a form of protection against White Supremacist prisoners, who would get really excited when a person of color under 18 was taken in. Sean was no different.

Sean remembers this one black kid, Eddie Stone; the year before, Eddie got in for stealing a car and that ended in an accident resulting in the death of an elderly woman, in front of her grandkids no less! One of whom ended up hospitalized.

Even with how horrible it was, it was one of many instances where Sean had to hear a heartbreaking story about a kid who got his life ruined over being stupid, especially with how scared and remorseful Eddie seemed the few times he met him.

About six weeks into his sentence, and six weeks of being physically assaulted, Eddie was put on suicide watch and solitary confinement for an attempt he made.

Another thing of note was the stories of rapists and pedophiles who end up in prison, they were true. Prisoners had an understandable, if arbitrary, code of honor and morals.

A while back, this guy Carter Reece was brought in here for the rape and murder of two young sisters - eleven and fourteen years of age respectively. It got a swift call for justice in todays political climate - middle aged white guy committing something so deplorable to two black girls.

The hammer came down and he got no possibly of parole for twenty five years.

A few nights off suicide watch, Reece and Sean had a second hand encounter. The other inmates took Sean from his cell, along with the other youth in here, and they were made to watch as the older boys took their turns with Reece.

This little mob was led by an older man named Willis (a cool guy, once you get past the fact he's a pimp doing time for beating one of his girls half to death) Willis had Reece beaten until he couldn't move, before having someone give Reece a penectomy with a broken piece of glass.

Even the White Supremacists turned a blind eye to that.

Sean was one of many prisoners interrogated over the instance, asking where he was that night. Sean didn't say anything but he was let go; it was around the time Sean made a book deal, and they didn't want to throw him off track as he was making progress.

And speaking of art class, it was around here that Sean met that one prisoner, who really stood out to him...

----

"You look like you need more shades."

"Hmm ?" Sean asked looking up from his table, to see the prisoner in question. Looks to be around his age, but about a few years older.

"I said you could use more shades; that red is gonna look too pink for blood. You could use something darker; make it look more real." He says, taking several dark shades of red from his own notebook, placing them down on the table.

Thia guy, as if he's been friends with Sean for years, takes a seat at the side of their table.

It was part of their art program. Under watch of four guards, two inmates where given a room to work on pieces of art they were making.

In Sean's case, he was finishing up and illustrating his drawings, and even writing out some notes. It is the initial draft of the comic, and he was able to make outside connections for those interested in his work.

Sean and the other inmate where working on their respective pieces. The other guys drawings where of a high school like setting.

The next few minutes was filled with an awkward silence that the other inmate decided to break, "So Mac ? What are you in for ?"

Sean looks at him before stating "A whole lot of bullshit."

"That can mean two things, y'know. Either you did a whole lot of bullshit, or you're here on a lot of bullshit charges. Which is it ?"

Sean takes a moment to think before he answers "I did a lot of things that got me in here, but I didn't do what they wanted me for."

"Something like that comes with a story. C'mon, just a couple of us guys, and guards, in here. Silence get's boring in here." The other boy turns his head over the shoulder and waves politely at the unamused guards.

Sighing, Sean, albeit reluctantly, goes over the story. Or a Wikipedia summary of his story. He of course omitted the part about Daniel having powers though, but the other guy caught on pretty quick.

"Wait, I know this story; you're Sean Diaz, aren't you ?"

Sean reluctantly nods before asking "You know me ?"

"Your case caught a lot of attention, as did mine."

Sean sets the drawings aside to get a good look at the other inmate "I take it you got a story too ?"

"It's...it's nothing much. I just shot a girl." The older boy puts his own drawings aside before looking into Sean's face "And a few other things".

"Well...don't leave me hanging."

The older boy started his story, of how he was considered the undisputed "king" of his school, and his dad practically bought out the town when they moved in. The older boy stops to chuckle as he realizes something "I'm sorry. It's just, my dad's named Sean too."

Sean shrugs "You have one, don't rub it in."

"Sorry, sorry. Just something I thought was funny." Yhe older boy shrugs "Name's Nathan by the way. Nathan Prescott." Nathan extends his hand to shake Sean's, but Sean sort of crossed his arms and shrank away.

"I know who you are. I heard you were in here, but I didn't think I'd actually meet you." Sean says, eyeing him suspiciously "I met that girl's dad back in the day...I sometimes hear from him too. He didn't exactly say good things about you."

"I get it man, I do. But it's like I've been saying, I didn't want her to die. I didn't want anyone to die." Nathan sighs.

"I'm listening."

To make Nathan's summary of his trial short...there was no way to make it short.

His shooting of Chloe Price was chalked up to manslaughter. If his dad were to pull his dirty tricks, he wouldn't be in jail at all. Unfortunately, for the Prescott Family, it wasn't just the local police, those in his pocket, who were interested in the investigation.

Nathan had this mentor, Mark Jefferson, who got arrested following Nathan's own arrest. Jefferson's own photography exploits have been going on for a while, albeit not as far as he could have gone without the Dark Room.

From towns neighboring the Arcadia Bay County, over the course of 2011 to 2013 there were seven reported kidnappings, not too different to the abductions that happened in Arcadia Bay, such as Beaver Creek. Out of them five where under the suspicion of being sexual assault cases, and the two others were bodies found in a lake.

When that is when the State Troopers got involved, and a look into the Dark Room's photo albums confirmed their suspicions.

"You killed them." Sean says stoically, "You and your teacher."

"Like I said, I didn't want them to die." Nathan vehemently insists "Mark, he....had this way of getting into my head. When screw ups like that happened, he put the blame on me-"

"But it was your fault. You could have at least tried to stop him-"

"What could I do ?!" Nathan snaps getting up from he's seat before he notices the guards eyeing him "Sorry."

Nathan breaths out before taking his seat.

"Look, I don't expect you to understand or forgive me or anything, but I heard your story. Least you can do is hear me out."

Sean sighs and briefly looks away "I guess. You kind of took me out of my writing at the moment."

As Nathan went on, he explained how Jefferson was smart and a little experienced.

It wasn't just Arcadia Bay he was operating in, and it wasn't just his students who were victimized. An operation such as the Dark Room would have drawn too much attention if it only amounted to victims from the same town and the same school.

So once in a blue moon, Jefferson would have Nathan scout out in neighboring towns and other school parties. Out of the seven victims reported from out of town, twenty five unreported victims were uncovered with the Dark Room.

Usually, Jefferson would have Nathan pick up girls from the wrong side of the tracks, those whom no one would notice or care about if reported.

Chloe Price, the girl Nathan ended up shooting, was once such attempted victim, but Nathan gave her too small of a dose. Nathan ended up dropping her off, and that's what lead to the confrontation in the bathroom.

Over the summer of 2013, these people from out of town reached out to Nathan and Jefferson, and suddenly Nathan had the chance to hire high level escorts to take part in their operations. Nathan didn't know who, how, or why, but Jefferson wasn't as pleased with the results, so that was cut from their plans.

"Wait you mean to tell me, other people knew ?" Sean interrupts.

"Someone had too," Nathan insists "Mark gave me an earful about getting Escort agencies involved. Would bring too much unwanted attention he says, how they are too easy. All that noise." Nathan sighs again. "Anyways it was around that time the Feds got involved."

Had it stayed within the confines of Arcadia Bay, this whole Dark Room mess would have been swept under the rug; Jefferson would be thrown under the bus and Nathan would be a free man.

A little looking into in Jefferson's background, it was discovered he was a person of interest (but not a suspect) of a cold case back in 2008; four bodies found buried in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, each having been tortured and/or drugged to death. One of them was a girlfriend of Jefferson, who he himself reported missing.

In 2010, two bodies found in similar condition within the Pacific Northwest; at the time there was no direct ties to Jefferson, other than one was the sister of a girl he was tutoring.

When the Feds swooped in, they began digging around in not just Jefferson's business, but that of the Prescott's. And when the Prescott family tried to buy out the Feds, that only made them more interested in discovering the extent of Sean Prescott's involvement.

This was unfortunately, how Nathan Prescott was told he had an infant half brother he wasn't supposed to know about, and now could never meet.

The official word is of the Prescotts dirty businesses was with a girl from out of town, old enough to be one of Kristen Prescott's friends (in fact, may of well have been); she received a monthly check for her silence.

When word of the Dark Room got out, so did her word, and unfortunately that towns police force wasn't on the Prescott pay roll.

And just like that, any attempt by Sean Prescott to control the narrative or investigation went down the shitter. When Prescott Sr. was sent up the river for those charges, Nathan was left vulnerable.

It wasn't that bad actually; the first few weeks helped Nathan clear his head. He got a court mandated psychiatrist, was heavily medicated, and was out of his two abusers influences. He even fired the lawyer his family hired for him at his therapists advise.

One of the first things Nathan was told was he should own up to what he did and not let his dad or Jefferson control him. Sure his family tried to get him out of trouble, even give him certain privilege's.

The most they could do is arrange multiple parole hearings from 2016 onward. It was almost a constant that they would want to know how Nathan progressed, and of course Nathan would do what he could to avoid that.

It was only in here Nathan could be free of other people influencing him. And even then the Prescott name saved him from some shit; Nathan couldn't keep out of how when ever an inmate would threaten him or give him grief, how they'd get beaten by the guards, but whenever Nathan acts out he'd at most be put in his cell for a day. A cell that had a TV in it no less.

In one such instance, Nathan stabbed a man for making unflattering comments towards him, just before a parole hearing. Just like that Nathan had another two months till the next hearing.

"This Jefferson guy," Sean asks "You ever find out what happened to him ?"

"Last I heard he's either here or somewhere else up state." Nathan shakes his head "Been told he got what other guys like him get."

In other words, Jefferson's prison wasn't identified, but due to his own little bit of fame and influence, he ended up isolated from other inmates for his protection; according to some, he got his own cell bock to himself, including a library and his own shower room.

The kind of pampered imprisonment Nathan was almost subjected too. There's some suspicion that Jefferson is being held in the same prison, due to there being a cellblock that's off limits to the other inmates.

"See, the reason Mark wouldn't be out and about has less to do with what we did, but more that if he was he'd go out the way of Scar." Nathan explains.

"Who ?" Sean asks.

"You know, from The Lion King ?"

"Ah, it's been a while." Sean nods "Was thinking about checking out the remake if I get out-"

"Don't." Nathan says firmly "Trust me, you aren't missing anything. Just watch the first one."

This got a genuine laugh from the two prisoners.

"What about you, Diaz ? You got a hearing coming up ?" Nathan asks.

"Not for another six months." Sean shakes his head "But you know, progress and good behavior, all that noise. We'll see what happens I guess."

----

Sean and Nathan met like this again, and again.

The reason Nathan spent a lot of time in the art program, was mainly due to nostalgia.

The two were not exactly friends, nor could they really say they liked each other. But they did appreciate having someone to talk too, and considering their differing backgrounds, it brought about no end of Shawshank Redemption jokes between them.

Over time, Sean even let Nathan read some of his drafts; Nathan was also the first person who got that Sean's wolf brother story was supposed to be his own story.

"You ever try writing ?" Sean would ask.

"I tried, but after a while I kept getting writers block." Nathan said going over Sean's draft "I wasn't exactly the most creative guy in the academy." As Nathan continues going through the draft, he keeps making notes "You know, I never thought there'd be that much politics in the animal kingdom."

"How so ?"

"Like," Nathan starts "I get what your going for, but I keep expecting to see Elephants and Donkeys to start showing up, if you know what I mean."

"Ah," Sean says "Well I just write what I know."

"That sheepdog scene though," Nathan noticeably shudders and cringes "Does that really have to be here ? It feels like the story could do without it."

Sean himself quivers a bit as he thinks back to it "Yeah, it- it wasn't a picnic for me either." He decides to change the subject "How you liking it so far ?"

"Well, the parts with the racoon are cute," Nathan nods "Also that romance with the hounds; which one does the wolf end up with ? Just curious is all."

"I don't know." Sean answers, as he starts looking over his own drawings "Sometime I wonder if I should take the story in different directions; see what the wolf could have done different, y'know ?"

By the time the comic was published, Nathan was one of the first to congratulate Sean, giving him a wine bottle that the prison would let Nathan get away with owning.

----

"Well, it looks like you made at least one friend, Sean." The new speaker says "Shame what happened to him though."

"Is he alright though ? What really happened to him, I have to know." Sean asks.

"Mr. Diaz, Nathan Prescott bled out in the medical ward after recovered him. We're still prepping an autopsy given the state he was in before death."

----

March 24th, 2020

About four days ago, it was time for another visit. A conjugal one, of course. After a month when his book was released, Sean has been granted a number of them, that they happen almost weekly. Extended visits too.

There was limitations of course, as this was a temporary thing that would only last a few months. Nathan of course claimed to have used what pull he had to grant Sean these visitations.

This time it was Finn and Cassidy showing up and they were granted an overnight stay. Two weeks ago, Sean got a visit with Cassidy, whom he ended up having sex with twice. The week after that, it was Finn which was more of the same; Cassidy was sick during Finn's visit, so it was a pleasant surprise when they both turned up.

They both arrived during lunch hour; Sean and Nathan once again sat together, going over sketches they made.

"So...um, what's with all the devil pics ?" Sean says as he looks through Nathan's sketch book "You, never really talk about them."

"Oh, that ?" Nathan says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck "Just something I've been dreaming about."

Sean was of course talking about a red humanoid figure that has been showing up in Nathan's drawings. Notably, this thing had horns, and fits the visual image one gets when they want to draw a cartoony red devil.

Before Nathan could elaborate further, a guard by the name of Wilson came up to their table "Hey, Diaz ? They're here."

Sean nods and gets up, bidding Nathan adieu as he and Wilson walk off.

Had Nathan explained himself, it would have been known that he's been catching glimpses of what he called "The Red Mist Man" outside of his nightmares. At first he was sure he was seeing things, but he continued to do so even when he got prescribed a double dose of medication. Triple even.

After a while, Nathan knew what it meant. This "Red Mist Man" was something sent from Hell to take him there. Nathan felt it in the air, running up his spine and chilling him to the bones, leering over his shoulder. He didn't know what to do or say, but he could almost hear it speak.

Death was coming for him, and no doubt Hell sent something to pick him up.

If Nathan were to guess, this must be God's way of getting back at him for Kate Marsh...and at the time, Nathan had to admit to himself he deserved it.

----

"Alright, you three know the drill. Anything happens, you ring this alarm." Wilson says, jabbing a thumb at a fire alarm on the conjugal rooms wall, then stepping out to let the visit commence.

Once they where alone, Sean turns to Finn and Cass, and pulls them into a group hug.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna make it." He says.

"Yee, have little of faith my friend." Finn answers "You didn't think we weren't gonna squeeze room in for our second favorite wolf ?"

"So...any good news ?" Cassidy asks, laying down on the rooms bed.

Sean sighs and shakes his head "I won't know until the next hearing. They want to see how my progress is going before they re-evaluate my charges."

"Isn't that what they said the last time ?" Finn asks, taking a seat beside Cassidy.

"And the time before that." Sean nods taking his seat between them.

"But your book," Cassidy starts "That should show them that you're doing good."

"Besides that, looking into your case, what they got you for should be cut down to five years." Finn brings up.

"I haven't even been hear for two." Sean says "Besides, I don't think the parole board would take to kindly to what my book was saying."

"You're friends with that Prescott guy, right ?" Finn says, causing Cassidy to tense up a little "You keep going on about how his family's got a lot of pull; maybe he could put in a good word for you ?"

"I don't know Finn," Cassidy answers "I don't think a serial torturer and killer is the best character witness for Sean here."

In their last few visits, both Cassidy and Finn met briefly Nathan a couple times, and knew him by rep. Cassidy wasn't exactly comfortable to cross paths with him, especially with what he's in for; Finn, while a little more comfortable, kept his eyes on Nathan based off what he heard of him.

Sean talked about some of the time and even art they did together, which gave them an easier view on Nathan, even if the two didn't have the highest opinion of him. In Sean's case, it was more of a lack of people to actually talk to, especially over mutual interests.

"Anyways, enough about me. How's you're week been ?" Sean asks.

"Ah, parents keep trying to follow me." Cassidy answers "I mean, I'm twenty one; my own woman. I got the cops involved and everything, but my dad is putting out a reward for my safe return." She does quote motions on the last two words
.
"Shit." Sean says "Are things that bad ?"

"They could be worse." Cassidy answers "I got my lawyer involved and we're putting out a restraining order on my family. Didn't stop mom from trying to call me..."

"Me and Cass have been staying together," Finn adds "Y'know, for her safety."

"We're planning a stay in Beaver Creek," Cassidy explains "Until everything blows over."

"Speaking of, have you heard from Daniel ?" Sean asks.

Both Finn and Cassidy shake their heads "Not a peep I'm afraid."

"I've been trying to call or write to him all week." Sean explains "I haven't heard a thing. I call Stephen, Claire, Chris. Nothing. I even reached out to Karen, but she hasn't heard anything either."

"I tried calling him yesterday," Finn starts "Dead signal."

They heard a loud growling sound, as Cassidy clutched her stomach "Speaking of calls, natures calling."

Cassidy hastily gets off the bed and rushes towards the bathroom. The fan was turned on to cover up the sound of regurgitation. Both Finn and Sean glance at the door as they could vaguely hear Cassidy over the whoosh of the fan.

"Aaaanyways," Finn says taking Sean by the shoulder "I wouldn't worry too much if I was you. Maybe there's a blackout there. Maybe he's found himself a little misses."

Sean scoffs/laughs at this.

"If Daniel found himself a girlfriend I would never hear the end of it."

"When my older brother got one, I think he forgot anyone else existed. Once me and my other brothers joined them on a date to this theatre, we were left behind when they left." Finn remarks.

"Christ man," Sean laughs.

"Yeah, we gave him an earful about it when we got home." Finn laughs.

"Okay, but even if that was the case," Sean starts "I still find it concerning the signals dead."

If Sean knew what was to come that night, he would have greater concerns over the new inmate that shown up six days before.

-----

As of late, there have been talks of a newcomer.

Over the past two days, word got around that the new meat was a high profile guy. The kind of guy you don't want in regular prisons;  it's speculated he'd be put in solitary with what he's in for, but according to guards who were in the mood for sharing smokes with Willis, the new guy is only here for temporary "protective custody".

The paperwork is still being worked but the case was open and shut in a matter of days. Sean only saw this guy once when he first came in. The guy was taken in trussed up like he was Hannibal Freaking Lecter; he looked over his shoulder at Sean when he passed his cell, and winked.

Word spreads fast when you get the kind of guards willing to share smokes with you. No one quite knew how much of what is said of this guy is true, or just bravado. After all the details are still being worked out..

Story goes that the new guy - "Giles Isaev" they're calling him - was some rich, European, pretty boy who came to the states to live out the American Dream, Scarface style. These were his own words, when Isaev was busted on a raid in the south regions of Oregon, three days prior.

Upon being questioned by the FBI, he just started confessing to all manner of crimes; pimping men, women and children out; pushing drugs that junkies have killed (and supposedly cannibalized) each other over; fighting rings where man and animal alike risk getting their bones and bodies broken on the daily.

Matter of fact, the thing he got sprung over was the kidnapping and torture of a couple that stole from him. By the time he was caught, Isaev was wiping blood off a longsword he had used to cut out the couple's eyes and tongue.

How the FBI knew of this activity isn't clear, as the local agency had no ongoing investigation for this man in particular; while stories of such a trafficking ring had caught their attention, they knew nothing of the man named Giles Isaev. Hell, they're still trying to find the agents who initially arrested Isaev.

So far it's just dead ends.

The only thing they knew for sure was of the couple Isaev tortured, and that poor thug he was put in a holding cell who got his throat eaten out.

At the same time, Isaev has been going on about these "people" and organizations that are after him for less than legal purposes; Isaev himself would claim he had critical information that could bring these organizations down and expose so many people; all he asked for was the law to play ball, was that he be sent to this specific prison and to be allowed visit a specific inmate.

It's been days now, and the boys in jumpsuits are yet to hear a thing. Supposedly there are plans to do something to Isaev, considering he's planning on snitching, and with the shit he's accused of. 

Unbeknownst to Sean, there's been an accident in the block he's in.

-----

Later that night, Nathan was treating himself to a shower. As usual, he'd do so alone.

One perk of being a "pampered" prisoner was lone showers. He heard all about what happens if you drop the soap, and what happens if you try to be smart in picking it up.

In Nathan's case, he uses liquid soap in a bottle and loofa (better safe than sorry). He didn't have his own shower, but he had a schedule for when the rest of the showers were free.

He felt the lights flicker a little, but decided not to pay it any mind. What did catch his attention was the red flashing light. And considering his recent nightmares, the red light mixed with the missed, gave him some pretty triggering thoughts.

Then the sound of an alarm started blaring. Instinctively he turned off his faucet and went to his towel to dry off.

Worst case scenario, there was a fight, in which case all he'd have to do is lay low and wait things out till it blows over. He was usually in his cell when it happens, which was more often than not, heavily guarded.

That is when he heard the door slam open. About thirteen prisoners walked in and quickly surrounded him; about five of them were armed, with blunt or sharp instruments.

"There you are Prescott." One of them, he recognized as Willis grinned at him "We've been looking for you for a while now..."

"Yeah," a younger inmate says "Six years actually." This guy was brandishing a make shift shank out of a toothbrush.

Nathan backed towards the wall, he recognized some of them as the boys who gave Carter Reece the Lorena Bobbitt treatment.

"H-hey boys, I don't want any trouble now..." Nathan says nervously.

One of them gets in his face "Yeah ? And I bet that Chloe girl didn't want in trouble neither."

"Or those other ones ?" Willis smirks crossing his arm.

"You beat one of your girls into the hospital, twice!" Nathan shouts pointing a finger at Willis "Don't act like you-"

"Don't go around saying your the moral authority here." Willis says, having taking out a switch blade and pointing it at Nathan's nose "We're all in this together, boy."

Nathan felt his heart racing, and his eyes starting to water.

"And what about those other girls ? Hmm? You see them every time you close your eyes whitey ? Say theirs names!"

"You do this..." Nathan snakingly breathes out "You can kiss your parole goodbye."

"I ain't never getting out. Mack here's not gonna see his kids, and I've been in for ten years already." An older thug says "You're money can't help you here Prescott."

Two of them took hold of Nathan's arms and suddenly, all of them began to line up, ready for their turns.

Nathan began to shake, and even weep silently, knowing there was no way out for him here.

First thug takes Nathan by the chin and forces him to face him "Pucker up butter cup."

And with that, Nathan felt a fist collide into his nose, and as he collapsed, he felt himself being kicked in the stomach and groin.

"Please!" Nathan cried out, spitting out blood, as more of it ran down his nose "I didn't want any of them to die!"

"Yeah, they didn't want to die either, Prescott." A thug answers.

"Now say their mother fucking names!"

"Margery-...Carol," Nathan starts to weep "A-Allyson...Lynn.." before being kicked in the stomach as he tries to get back up.

"Hey! We didn't say stop!" Willis says brandishing his knife.

Snakingly Nathan continues "Chloe- Chloe...R-Rachel" Nathan starts, almost burying his head in his hands "I-I'm so sorry..."

"Keep going. Sorry's not gonna get you anywhere."

Nathan continues, often having to be punched, kicked or even jabbed to do so.

As he went on, Nathan saw out of the corner of his eye as what he called "The Red Mist Man", made his way towards him. It was silently standing over the group as they took their turns with him. And just as Nathan felt himself on his last breaths, it leered down onto him, and bit.

When Nathan succumbed to the darkness, he heard it's voice.

"Awake, my progeny..."

-----

About an hour or so earlier, at the far end of the isolated block, Isaev was able to get the attention of the one other prisoner in the cell. Of course it was a matter of whistling and calling out his name.

They were in separate cells, on the same hall.

"Mark ? Marky ? Maaaark." Isaev would call from his cell, much to the annoyance of his "neighbor".

"What ?"

"Well, that was rather rude. I just wanted to say hi. How else would you great an old friend ?" Isaev would ask.

"Do I know you ?"

"We had unfinished business back in the day you and I," Isaev says "Of course, you hurt another friend of mine, for which I seek compensation for."

Mark laughs to himself upon hearing this.

"Let me guess, you have a daughter or sister, in my photo albums." Mark ask "Not that ? Okay, how about a girlfrie-"

"Does the name Vivian Manning mean anything to you ?"

Mark gives no response.

"Come on, I know you know her. She was a favorite of yours I hear."

Mark shakes his head "Sorry, I never really played favorites."

"Sure you do. Strawberry blonde hair ? One of your students ? Was about nineteen years old ? You fucked her once or twice ? Not ringing any bells ?" Giles Isaev shouts out "Come on I know you know this one. How about this ? She used that name as a pseudonym when you went on that museum date."

This cause Mark to freeze in his cell. He can't possibly mean what he thinks he means...

"Did you get that gift of your this morning ? That little box of yours, Jeff ?" Isaev asks in a sing song tone.

Mark Jefferson thought back to yesterday morning. Someone sent him a gift; a phone.

He's been getting death threats over the years, and he's even gotten mail from fans of his (some sent him nudes, or pictures trying to replicate his work - amateurs didn't have the guts to really get their hands dirty though).

But the phone was something new; he couldn't open it, as there was a password already instilled.

"Y-yeah," Jefferson says trying to put up a confident front "It's locked, genius."

"Turn it on, and type the following; 05..."

"05," Jefferson types, muttering under his breath, but Isaev could apparently hear him.

"23...13."

Jefferson types the remainder of the password.

"Go to the photos."

Jefferson does so, and couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Furthermore he couldn't believe the dates these pictures were supposedly taken. 2017, 2018, 2019. All of them of the same girl in different activities; brunch, trips to the boardwalk, a few yacht parties, rave scenes, even a few post coital selfies.

"How about this ? Does the name Rachel mean anything to you ?"

"What kind of sick joke is this ?" Jefferson shouts out "I know for a fact this one is dead!"

"Correction; was dead." Isaev answers "Luckily for you, friends of ours want you alive. And the way I see it, I can either be a messenger boy, or a delivery boy."

Jefferson's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of something heavy and metal clanging on the ground. Although he couldn't see it, he could tell the cell door fell off it's hinges and onto the floor beneath them.

To Jefferson's further disbelief, Isaev made his way to the front of his cell, and without even trying, pulled the hinges off its metal door.

"Now, Mark. We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours."

----

The first alarm blared within the next few minutes. Several guards entered the isolated block to find Jefferson's cell door open.

Jefferson himself was spitting out blood and teeth, doubled over. He was coughing and groaning as Isaev kept kicking him on the ground.

Over the next few minutes, one set of guards had to secure Isaev who backed down without any further fight. Jefferson was being hauled off to the medical ward.

Another set of guards were taking Isaev to what was called "The Hole" - a special spot they'd take first time prisoners who were caught acting out of line.

A few days in a dark space, fit for a janitors closet was usually enough to scare the good behavior into them. They even put Isaev's "Hannibal" mask back on due to the biting motions he made at a few guards.

Isaev wasn't going to see a minute of it though.

Midway though their trek Isaev, broke his cuffs grabbed hold of one of the guards, and broke his neck, and in the confusion, made quick work of the other four. He picked the gun and keys and hastily made his way to each cell.

Very dangerous people too, the kind you do not want running around in a system that oppressed their building anger; gangsters, bikers, skinheads.

The few who didn't immediately start causing trouble, made their way for the cells that had "undesirable prisoners".

Within minutes, mattresses and toilet paper was already set ablaze. Many inmates tried to audaciously attack Isaev, either to restrain or just kill him. Those who didn't get shot, were bitten.

Over a dozen guards already found themselves being beat by the prisoners; some shot, maimed, or just have their limbs broken. Some guards have already taken to shooting the prisoners, but the gunfire would barley phase Isaev.

All the while, the less aggressive and more rehabilitated of the inmates simply coward in their cells, and the few who didn't ran for a place to hide. Especially as the seemingly dead inmates began to get back up, and as if acting on an animal instinct, started biting and drinking from people.

----

In the meantime, that same evening Sean, Cassidy and Finn, were still in conjugal, talking over plans for their next trip to Beaver Creek (excluding Sean of course) , and what Daniel could be up to.

"Alright, Sean how about this? If I see that Daniel has a girlfriend, and has been dodging you because of her, you owe me 500 dollars. If not, than I owe you the same amount." Finn remarks.

"You're going have a pretty lousy financial experience then." Sean jokes "700 says he's still holding out on Lyla. He held onto that since kindergarten."

"Alright, I'll bite." Cassidy smirks with a roll in her eye "900 says you both are wasting your time and he just broke his phone or something."

"For real though, I could use the money." Finn adds "Thinking of getting him a gift. There's a game he's been waiting for that keeps getting delayed, and I know this guy who can pirate physical copies for a pri-"

They were interrupted by the sound of the prisons alarm, as well as the rioting. Someone outside was making their way to their room when the door opens.

"You three alright?" Wilson emerges through the door.

"What's going on ?"

"The prison's compromised." Wilson asks.

"Meaning ?" Cassidy asks nervously.

"Meaning for the time being you three are going to have to stay put." Wilson says looking out the door for any signs of trouble.

From outside the hall, they can hear an inmate loudly remark "Peek-A-Boo- I see you!"

Several prisoners aggressively made their way down the hall, and Wilson saw one of them had a gun. Wilson pulled out his piece, and shot once, sending them scattering.

The bullet hits the gunman in the throat, causing him to stagger. Wilson shot a few more times, but wasn't a particularly good shot this time around, but he may have just been firing warning shots.

Wilson quickly closed the door, and barricaded it with a dresser. He motions Sean and the other two to get down on the ground. In any other situations, Sean would be having a number of uncomfortable flashback, but any attempt to mentally get out this situation fails, as the sound of over a dozen inmates banging on the door outside.

Oh, the obscenities they were screaming; the real nasty stuff was the remarks they've been making towards Cass and Finn, and a few racist pot shots toward Sean himself.

And that to was drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Only five shots rang out, but the sound of...something else making mince meat of the prisoners outside. Everyone in the room was taken aback by the blood flowing under the door.

"It's safe to open up now..." A tired voice calls out.

"We aren't opening until we know it's clear." Wilson says pointing his gun towards the door.

"Come on man, I need medical aid." The voice says again "I'm bleeding out fast. For god's sake, I got a youth from block C with me..."

Sighing, Wilson reluctantly gets up and moves the shelf. As he opens the door, another shot rings out. Wilson collapses onto the floor as another prisoner barges his way in, clutching his bleeding neck.

It was Giles Isaev.

"Sorry for the racket kids, but I've been hoping to meet you for a while now." Isaev says pointing the gun and gesturing them to sit on the bed.

With their hands up, Sean, Finn and Cassidy did as told.

"There we go, there we go, always good to play ball." Isaev says, taking a chair and using it to barricade the door. When Isaev takes his own seat he smiles towards Sean "Sean Diaz, right ? Love your book, but I find the political themes in it were too on the nose."

Sean opened his mouth to say something but couldn't find the words, Isaev does the talking for him.

"You don't mind if I smoke do you ?" Isaev takes a cigarette out of his pocket, lights it and takes a deep huff, blowing out a deep cloud of smoke as he once again addresses Sean "You've been enjoying this little vacation of yours for a while now Mr. Diaz, and unfortunately, I had to get off my tuchus, and put myself in the pen. And you know why ?"

Sean doesn't answer. He's completely at a loss for words at what is happening. The most he could do was shake his head.

"Favor for a friend." Isaev shrugs "My family, has made a lot of friends the past few years, and have taken to making deals with them." He casually flicks his cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out. "In your case, Mr. Diaz, you and your brother have made some new friends of mine angry with your actions the last few years. Dirty secrets unaired, reputations ruined, put everyone through over a year of drama, all over a couple of dead bodies. Well, myself and Mother's other children have been making deals with certain organizations, one of which has a special interest in getting your brother back into their loving hands, and you to pay for your sins against them."

"Daniel," Sean found his voice and found his protective big brother instinct kick in "I swear to God if you-"

"Relax, our boys in Beaver Creek haven't found anything of him...yet." Isaev leans forward, as he glances back at Finn and Cassidy "As for your friends, I've been asking around and it appears your boy-toy has a bounty in Montana for skipping bails. As for your little girlfriend, her family have been missing her dearly; willing to pay just as dearly too. And frankly, I've been planning on getting a new car, so I could use an extra couple thousand in my pocket."

"This...was all to get to us ?" Cassidy asks nervously.

"You're half right missy." Isaev uses the business end of the gun to scratch his nose "Another friend asked me a favor to get someone else in here, but he's been taken care of." He points his gun back at them "You three on the other hand, are to be special guests of-"

Before he could finish, Finn was the first to get up and rush Isaev, taking him by surprise. Finn takes hold of Isaev's arm, holding the gun, and does what he can to aim it too the roof.

On instinct, Sean also gets up and lunges at Isaev, pinning him down in the confusion. It wasn't a proper fight, but of a struggle to subdue him, and the only reason they were holding out so far was because they got the drop on him.

Sean takes a hold of Isaev's shirt and pulls it up over the gunman's eyes. At the same time, Finn jabbed a thumb into the wound on Isaev's bleeding neck, causing the latter to scream.

But even then, Isaev quickly got his footing, and with a few motions tossed the two young men aside. Both Sean and Finn slam into the walls, both winded and dazed by the impact. Groaning, they look up to see Isaev try to adjust himself.

"Alrighty then." Isaev coughs out "Faye kings want to dance." He aims the gun forward towards them and pulls the trigger...

Click.

Isaev tries again.

Click, Click.

"Goddammit." He says tossing the gun aside "Very well, fisticuffs it is."

Before he could do anything though, he heard something. Like a child screaming out in terror. Isaev turned around at the direction of the noise to see nothing but the wall behind him.

"Curious," he thinks to himself.

Before he could do anything else, he felt something large, metal and plastic strike the back of his head with enough force to cause a concussion.

It was Cassidy, previously taking ahold of the chair while the other two fought Isaev.

"Are you two alright ?" She asks as Sean and Finn snakingly help each other to their feet.

"What do we do now ?" Finn asks.

"We go find help." Cassidy says.

"No!" Sean quickly shakes his head "If we run from this, if we survive, we could- we could...I might get more time on my sentence."

"If we stay here," Finn gestures to the bodies "They might think we did this."

"Sean, if they trust you, you can try to explain yourself when we-" Cassidy starts, before instinctively jumping back at the feeling on Isaev's hand on her ankle.

In response, Sean and Finn take hold of either end of the dresser, and flip it downwards on top of Isaev. You could almost hear a loud crunch and the slightest whimper from Isaev.

"Looks like we don't have any choice, do we Sean ?" Finn asks as he catches his breath.

With a shaky nod, Sean accepts.

It was simply a matter of finding a place to hide. They debated taking weapons with them in case they encounter either guards or prisoners next.

----

It had been hours since the riot began and twelve guards were left trying and failing to control the situation. It was like something out of a zombie movie, as what appeared to be walking corpses attacked guards and other prisoners alike.

Sean, along with Finn and Cassidy, made their way through three different blocks, trying to find the right hiding spot. The three of them never spoke aloud, so as to keep a low profile.

The cafeteria was taken over by prisoners, holding thirteen guards hostage; The showers were loud with the sound of a gang beating and stabbing an unknown individual to death (later learned to be Nathan Prescott); medical wing was closed off completely (and even then there was commotion going on in there), so that was a no go; the isolated cell was now, ironically overrun.

Ironically the safest place in prison, was outside the prison.

The yard was empty, no a creature was stirring, but even then it was better safe than sorry. The three made their way to the bleachers, and by the time they could relax, the sky was changing color. It was somewhere in the 5:00 to 6:00 AM range.

They just had to hold out for a few more hours before daylight. It was here were Finn breaks the silence.

"What the hell were those things ?"

"They can't be what we think they are, right ?" Cassidy asks.

Zombies was about the only thing they had in mind.

They three sat under the bleacher's holding each other as they waited over the sounds of the riot; both too tired to continue running and too scared to sleep.

They didn't know how much time passed in the darkness, but as daylight started to break overhead, as did the buzz of helicopter wings.

Of course, they'd take to calling in a SWAT Team, Sean thought to himself. Is about the only way to get things under control.

Six helicopters appeared in the sky making their way towards the prison, and one in particular landed in the yard.

Cassidy took Sean by the shoulders to try to shake him awake "This is it Sean! Now's our chance."

"We go slowly, keep our hands up, and they won't shoot." Finn nods.

As they did so, several men in White and dark red SWAT outfits advanced toward them, cautiously. It was odd colors for sure for standard SWAT Gear, but this wasn't the time to question it. Even more oddly, they wore the embalm of a cross, and crossbow on their shoulder pads.

"Freeze! Identify yourselves!" One officer calls out.

"Finn McNamara."

"Lucy Rose Jones."

"Sean Diaz."

"Are any of you injured ?" The officer asks.

"Have any of you been bitten ?" Another asks.

"...No." The three of them say at once after exchanging a glance.

"We're going to have to pad you down, make sure you aren't infected."

"What ?" Sean asks.

"Spread your arms and your legs. Standard procedure. C'mon."

The three of them awkwardly do as they're told as three officers, frisk them, even going as far as to reach under their clothes.

Sean has been at the receiving end of these before, when the prison wanted to check him for drugs. This was something he was experienced with, but he had a feeling this was the first feel down Finn and Cassidy got from the boys in blue.

"Okay, take these three into evac. Rest of you try to get this situation under control." One officer orders the rest of the unit, before going on his radio "We got three civies here, taking them to evac, we may need to get some backup."

The three of them where motioned off, albeit at gunpoint to the copter, which took off with all but three officers staying behind.

Somewhere in the flight, Sean passed out.

----

March 27th, 2020

It was finally daylight hours when Sean awoke again, although it was raining. The bright lights of the hospital room almost annoyed him, but he was used to it from the last time he was in the hospital like this.

Hopefully things will turn out a little better for him this time around, but he doubted it. He was back in the states after all. And as he felt his head spinning from disorientation, he saw he had company in the room.

It was a young woman, about his age give or take a few years. She wasn't dressed like one would expect; nothing to indicate she was a cop, FBI agent. She was dressed in a black leather jacket, and matching pants and boots. She also had short blonde hair.

"There he is. Welcome to the land of the living, Mr. Diaz." The woman says. Her voice was warm and her smile was friendly.

Sean looks over at his wrist. The last time he was in this situation, he had to wear a cuff to the bed until they were sure he was stable. To his curiosity, there was no cuff.

"I'm not arrested, am I ?"

"Should you be ?" The woman asks.

"Are you not a cop ?" Sean asks "I'm still a prisoner, am I not ?"

"Not at the moment; now you're a person of interest, and a patient. And no, I'm not a cop. I'm not with the government either, so you can relax. I do want to ask you a few questions about what you've seen, but we want to make sure you are in stable condition." The woman answers "Your boyfriend and girlfriend are alright by the way. You've been out for three days, but they're being treated in the next wing."

Sean's eyes widen "boyfriend and girlfriend" ? At least he knows they're okay, but he wanted to keep the exact nature of their relationship on the downlow. The woman notices Sean's shocked and concerned expression before she clarifies.

"Hey, look I'm not here to judge, sometimes my girlfriend and I have a third partner too." The woman fakes a cough "Anyways, they filled me in, and I think you may be more comfortable if we go with first names." The woman reaches her hand out to shake Sean's "Name's Samantha. My friends call me Sam."

Sean takes Sam's hand to shake it "Sean, but you knew that. Can I ask where we are ?"

"Seaside, Oregon. My people had this wing closed off, so you and your friends are in good hands. The official story is you three are key witnesses to what happened Boon County Penitentiary, but I figure you could use a friend to help break the ice." Sam turns her head to the door, and as if on cue, Finn awkwardly opens it, dressed in a hospital gown.

"Hey there, wolf boy," Finn smiles, carrying two bags of chips in one hand, and bottles of soda in his other arm as he walks up to the bag "I take it I missed you waking up, but I figured you could use a bite."

"Thanks, haven't eaten in days." Sean says, taking a bag and immediately digging in.

"I'll give you two some privacy," Sam says before correcting herself "I mean, this room is being monitored, but you get the point." Sam says, getting up from her seat and heading out the door.

Finn smiles as he takes her seat "So you good enough to walk man ?"

"I think my bad eye is acting up, but other than that I'm feeling alright." Sean shrugs.

"We'll get a doc or nurse to look at that," Finn nods, but his smile flattens "But Sean, these people, I don't think they're any law enforcement I've heard about. They kept this wing cut off from the rest of the hospital and are asking and telling us things...like that Sam girl laid a lot on me and Cass when we woke up."

"What did she say ?"

Finn sighs, opens his soda and take a drink before saying "I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna lay it all out for you," Finn inhales deeply before exhaling "Vampires exist, man."

This momentarily threw Sean off "W-what ?"

"Those things in the prison? They were vampires." Finn said, raising one hand and another to emphasize his point.

Sean was at a loss for words, not that he didn't try to say something; he knew that something supernatural exists in this world, but never seriously considered their existence; back in the day he's heard many an urban legends of Skinwalkers, demonic possession; there were times he and Daniel used to jokingly look out for Bigfoot during their travels. He remembers the year before his dad died, at a Halloween party, he and the other played a game Ouija Board that supposedly contacted the Slenderman, and no one can could prove that was a prank.

Hell, Daniel's powers alone show Sean that there is something in this world beyond the mundane.

In short, Sean was thinking he probably shouldn't be too surprised.

Finn continues "Anyways, we were taken here by this group that have been hunting them, and they wanted to look us over; make sure none of us were bitten or anything, and they wanted to ask us questions when we come too. Luckily, everything checked out, and Cassidy hasn't had any complication-"

Finn stops himself before he finishes. Sean eyes him suspiciously.

"Finn, what were you saying about Cass ?" Sean asks.

"It's - not really my place to say. She wants to tell you herself." Finn says.

"Tell me what ?" Sean says, climbing out of bed, but finds himself unbalanced and sitting on the edge.

They are interrupted by the sound of a door knocking. Sam opens the door.

"Alright, I figured this is my cue to bring you into our hearing, but your girlfriend has been asking to see when you're up. What say you, kid ?" Sam asks.

Sean nods "How is she ? What's happening too her ?"

"She's in stable condition all things considered, she just wants to see you. You need help standing up or do you think you can manage ?"

Sean could manage to stand but it took him a bit to get used to using his legs.

----

Sean and Finn walked down a mostly empty hall, mostly occupied by men and women, that like Sam, wouldn't be out of place in Agents of Shield with how they dressed. Cassidy's room was seven doors down.

When Sean has Cassidy's door opened, she's sitting on her bed in a hospital gown of her own, casually reading a book. She turns to Sean, and a smile quickly forms on her face.

"There's my wolfman," Cassidy beams as she gets up from the bed to give Sean a great big bear hug "I've been worried about you." She says with a kiss on the cheek.

"I've been worried about you too, honey." Sean says, kissing her on the temple.

"So...vampires, huh ?" Cassidy says with a smile.

"Yeah, I almost hoped it'd be zombies." Sean says with an chuckle of his own "All that video game training, wasted."

"Chris Redfield would be disappointed." Finn adds jokingly, shaking his head while patting Sean on the shoulder, with Cassidy reaching her hand up to touch Finn's. Sean added his own hand in the equation as they held each others hands.

"So..." Sean finally speaks before "Finn's been saying you want to tell me something ? Are you okay ? Like you haven't been...bitten or anything, have you ?"

Cassidy shakes her head with an awkward smile "No, nothing like that...but, you know how I have been sick for a while now ?"

"Yeah ?" Sean says, but the infliction in his voice made it sound like he was asking a question "Is- is it bad, Cass ?"

Cassidy glances to the side nervously, complete with a bite on her lower lip, not exactly able to find the words. Luckily actions speak louder than words.

Cassidy takes Sean's hand out of Finn's and off his shoulder, and begins to guide it down downwards...and placing it on her stomach.

For one of many instances in his life, Sean felt his world stop. A billion things have been going though his head at once. He thought he hit a speedbump at the discovery that he was back in the states, that vampires existed, and now Cassidy was telling him this!

Cassidy guided her hand upwards, placing it on Sean's cheek; a sad smile forms on her face as she presses her forehead to Sean's.

"Two weeks Sean," Cassidy said "Remember when I was acting up last week ? Well, I guess we know why I was sick then."

"H-how did this happen ?" Sean finally found his voice.

"You were there, remember ?" Cassidy smiles "I missed my monthly visitor last week, and I had my suspicions, but I didn't know until the docs here told me."

"So, uh..." Finn starts "What- what do you think Sean ?"

Sean took a deep gulp before snakingly asking "Do...are you planning on keeping it ?

Cassidy looks down, before saying with a shaky voice of her own "I- I don't know yet. I just wanted you to know, because I think you should have a say, Sean. I found out myself, and I still don't know what to make of this...but I just want to know, that whatever happens, you will be there, for me."

Sean looks down and after a moment of thinking, presses his hand back on Cassidy's stomach.

"I'm not leaving your side, Cass. Not after this, and not after what we just been through." Sean says, taking Cassidy into a hug "We're going to figure this out together." Sean looks over his shoulder at Finn "All of us."

Finn smiles with a pat on Sean's back "I've always got your back, Sean, and you Cass. I never ditched the two of you and I don't intend to start now, but..."
"But what ?" Cassidy asks.

"What about Uncle Daniel ?" Finn asks "We still haven't heard from him, and if that masked guy says is any indication, we aren't the only ones looking for him..."

They were interrupted by Sam, leaning on the door way with an cough.

"Look, I hate to interrupt this little moment of yours, but there's something the bosses and I have been meaning to talk to you about."

----

"And that's how we got you here," says the woman in the office.

This girl Samantha seemed to flip a switch in between this hearing and the encounters with her at the hospital.

Accompanying her at this meeting was four other people, whose names he didn't get fort he most part, but where dressed in a way that imply some sort of authority.

Despite this, Sam was the one doing most of the talking. Her, and another "supporting agent" - this redheaded woman named Faden - but no one really knows who she works for or with. All they know for sure is she represents another organization, and one of many looking into these events; if the way she and Sam kept giving looks at eachother was an indication, Sean was willing to bet the two had a fling or two in the past. But that was none of his business.

This wasn't the parole meeting Sean thought he'd be having, but Sam gave a rundown; the short of it is that this organization, and others have a special interest in what is happening, and Sean's involvement...if he plays ball, the higher ups of these groups will see to it that Sean is a free man - with certain limitations of course. They were under heavy guard of course, which includes the police, and they had to take character witnesses from Sean's time in prison. A lot of them made notes about Sean and his progress.

Given the circumstances, Finn and Cassidy sat at his side for the hearing, for support.

They have spent the past two hours going over Sean's time in the pen, and answering questions about Sean and his progress. He learned that a few other witnesses have been taken from the prison and now under the protection, or recruitment of what is called "The Guard".

Among the dead, was Nathan Prescott. Sean was told he was tortured by a dozen inmates for three hours before dying of his injuries. Only reason they didn't mutilate him was because they didn't want him to live through it, so there was really no point.

"So here's what we can do," Sam starts "The official story - the one we are going to have the police and feds believe - is that you three are key witnesses to our ongoing investigation of sex crime syndicate; this is the half the truth."

"The people we are looking for, are in fact part of a crime family, involved in the three big bad trafficking ops; sex, drugs and weapons. The man you met that night ? Giles Isaev ? Doesn't exist. At least not as you know him" Faden explains "There was a Giles Isaev, but he died in Russia back in 1978, from a wolf attack at the age of six; afterwards he was cremated. No other records of another Giles Isaev existed until four months ago."

"That guy though," Finn asks "Is he dead now ? We left him in our room, and he was pretty fucked up."

"Your room was searched. We found blood but no other body than that of the guard you spoke of. We couldn't find anything of him really. No pictures, composite sketch, nothing. It's like hunting a ghost. And trust me, even that is a picnic in comparison."

Sean raises his hand this time "Does anyone on your team have anything on Beaver Creek ?"

"My team ? We're on the Beaver Creek investigation and cleanup crew, yes." Sam says "But we're still looking into what happened until we get a clear picture."

"What exactly happened there anyways ?" Cassidy asks "It's just that's where his brother lives."

"Oh, my god..." Sam says, briefly covering her mouth "Look, like I said we're still looking things over but- between this and Puerto Lobos-" she starts before she is interrupted.

"Wait what ?" Sean says.

"There was...an attack of Peurto Lobos a week ago." Sam starts to explain "From what we got, it was also a vampire attack. Our Mexican division is looking into it; death toll is at a hundred and nine, along with eighty five missing persons."

"What about Beaver Creek ?"

"There is a Daniel Diaz on the missing persons list. An Agent Flores is looking into his disappearance, but she's been also asking to speak to you once you're checked out." Sam explains.

Sean immediately gets from his chair in an almost explosive manner, but Faden puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Sean, please! Control yourself," Faden says as calmly as she can muster "I can understand what you're going through, but it's important that you sit through this."

"My brother is missing and could be dead, you do not want to make this situation worse!" Sean says angrily.

"And neither do you, which is why you are not going to run away again." Faden says taking Sean by both his shoulders and forcibly sitting him back down onto the chair.

A sudden wave of melancholy, dread, and anxiety washed over Sean at once, but ultimately the former two outweighed the latter, and he slumped down into his seat with a shaky sigh.

"I just can't leave him," Sean shakes his head "I can't loose him again."

"I can understand that, but Sean, we already took risks making sure you can be trusted. You run away now, and another manhunt will start for you." Faden explains "Look kid, I get it. I was about half your age, and my brother went missing, there was nothing I wouldn't have to get him back; I am lucky now to be in a position where I am still trying to save him. If I had been were you are, and I would have done anything to have the choice our friends in the Guard are about to give you."

"What's that ?" Sean ask.

Now it was Sam's turn to speak up "After some friends and I learned the hard way that monsters exist, these people started following us. Turn out where there's monsters, there are hunters; different organizations in fact." She gestures to Faden "She found one while me and my friends found the others. We were put into protective custody for a while, and to make a long, long story short, a few of us ended up being monster hunters ourselves."

It takes a moment for this to sink in to Sean before he asks "So, what, we sign some papers and then we become hunters too ?"

"No. Not all of you," Sam shakes her head "First, you don't have the same training or experience as us. Although, we can't recruit her given her condition, so she'd be under protective custody as well." she gestures to Cassidy.

"Think of it like this," Faden starts "Samantha here, and her friends worked their way into being Marines, while you two would be like boy scouts. Not even cadets...yet. The short of it is you can go to places our organizations are investigating, even help out, but I would advise against going in on the battlefield with your new partners."

"Hell, I know a certain someone who got Director rank on their first day." Sam nods, giving Faden a side glance.

Sean shakes his head "Don't you think the police are going to be a problem for us ?"

"I mean, they shouldn't be," Sam says "We got the cover story, that you three are priority witnesses to members of a sex syndicate, and going over your file, there is reasonable doubt that you killed that cop. You being a witness takes precedence over everything else. You'll be fine, as long as you don't poke the bear."

As she was saying this, another agent took out three contracts, placing them in Sean and Finn's hand.

"This is the only way ?" Sean asks.

"Pretty much; you can be a free man, with duties and limitations of course, but it's better than being a prisoner, isn't it ?" Faden nods.

"If that's what it takes to find our wolf cub." Finn nods, before signing his way through the contract he's been given.

Looking over, Sean sighs with a nod of his own.
"If that's what it takes."

And with that, Sean signs.

----

Seattle Washington, University District, March 28th, 2020

And that is how, Sean, Finn and Cassidy found themselves in Seattle.

Now members of the American Guard, as they call themselves, they were granted two safe houses; one in Seattle itself, the other in Pierce County.

It was probably not a good idea to settle into the city first. As they made their way up the driveway, they noticed a few neighbors eyeing them suspiciously. It wasn't the same house Sean, Daniel and their dad lived in, but it was around the same neighborhood.

Needless to say, it was a long couple of days to get back on their feet. Ostensibly, Sean was a free man, but he knew what he really was; a dog on a leesch. He made phone calls to Agent Flores, once again for transparency.

He learned that the cover story was accepted, and that he and his "housemates" were witnesses to a sex ring. Flores expressed concern as Daniel being a witness to other illegal activity is what's believed to have triggered the Beaver Creek incident.

Sean's first order of business to find out what he could about what happened in Beaver Creek, but truth be told, he was tired after everything that's happened the past four days. The work would begin tomorrow. In the meantime, Sean called Lyla to fill her in on what's happening, but only told her half the truth. He figured she wasn't ready for the truth about vampires or how he and Finn joined an organization of hunters.

That night, it was Finn's turn to cook, and Sean usually found himself glued to Cassidy's side, especially in light of recent news. He joined her in the shower while Finn was prepping supper. Nothing sexual happened there, but Sean found himself singing with Cassidy, as they usually did in the shower ("Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong")

And covered Sean's first night home.

----

Elsewhere, in Madison Park, Seattle.

Late in the evening, a two year old makes his way up a hallway to his mothers bedroom, carrying with him, a stuffed white rabbit named Alice.

As he started knocking, his mother expectedly opens.

"Another nightmare, Bill ?" the woman asks patiently.

The child, Bill, nods.

The woman sighs and picks him up "Okay, come on. No monsters will get you here..."

As the woman sets her child on the bed she asks
"What was it this time ?"

"That man from my dreams...the knight, he was killing people again." Bill mumbles.

"Ah, well that's not good. Most knights are supposed to be good."

"Only black knights, but this one was wearing gold." Bill babbles a bit.

"I see," the woman, Max, nods with a yawn.

"He wasn't this time...he was in a jail, and it was today times."

"Shhhh," Max says, putting a finger to Bill's lips "We'll talk about it tomorrow. You don't want to give mommy nightmares, do you ?"
Bill shakes his head, as Max lies down. Instinctively the toddler nuzzles into her chest.

Somewhere in the night, Max heard her phone buzzing off. She looked over at Bill, who was still asleep. Careful not to disturb him, she climbs out of bed and steps into the hallway. As she made her way to the living room to find the caller was Kate.

"Kate ?" Max asks as she takes her seat on the couch "It's 4AM, what's the matter ?"

"Did you get the news ?" Kate asks.

"At Beaver Creek ? That's all that was being talked abou-"

"Not that," Kate answers "Look, Kristin Prescott just called Vic and I. It's Nathan."

"What about him ?" Max says.

She hasn't heard from Nathan nor Jefferson in over three years, since that was the last Victoria paid Nathan a visit. After what happened to Chloe, Max ended up getting close with both Kate and Victoria; it started with group therapy sessions, and "healing trips".

As some may say, one thing lead to another.

And that's how Bill got his two favorite aunts (next to Dana).

As Kate started to explain what Kristin told her, she caught on to something "Oh shit, did I call at a bad time ?"

"Hmm ? No. No." Max shakes her head "Bill was having another nightmare. He's sleeping in my bed again."

"Aw, poor sweetie." Kate says "He slept like an angel at me and Vic's too...do you need us to stop by ? We can talk things over tomorrow."

"Thank Kate, I appreciate it. Oh, how is Victoria holding up by the way ?"

Max could almost see Kate shrug on her end "She's in the shower. She's taking what happened pretty hard. I guess I was just looking for someone to talk to is all."

"Ah, well it sounds to me your wife is in need of a shoulder to cry on herself." Max nods "Like you said we can talk this over tomorrow. I think Bill could use a visit from his favorite Aunts."

"Oh, so Dana will be there too ?" Kate chips up.

Both she and Max laugh at this before Max gets ready to hang up.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow Katie." Max says "I'm needed in Dreamland."

Max hangs up and places her phone on the coffee table and turns the TV on, hoping to drift off to sleep. But it was that same News Story.

It was covering this incident that occurred in Beaver Creek; about a hundred or so are dead, dozens missing - body's found in different stages in multination or even drained of blood.

The same occurred about a day afterwards in this town in Mexico, and in Boon County Penitentiary; the last one was the incident that Kate was talking about on the phone, specifically the news that Nathan Prescott is among the dead...and Mark Jefferson is currently "unaccounted for".

There was a fourth such incident. It happened six years ago, in Arcadia Bay.

Max was taken a months long break from the school after what has happened, as did many students.

The arrest of Nathan Prescott, Mark Jefferson, and later Sean Prescott struck a mighty blow to both Arcadia Bay and Blackwell Academy. With the Prescott's buying out over half the town, including the school and police department, the Prescott's assets where frozen along with the school and polices funding.

This combined with students being pulled out from school and the FBI's (sometimes she thinks they called themselves the FBC) investigation on the police department, and the town was standing on it's last legs.

Even family owned business such as Blue Whales Diner gradually fell apart due to the toll Chloe's loss took on Joyce, as did Joyce and David's marriage.

Effectively, Arcadia Bay was being drained to death; as if by a vampire with its victim.

In Max's eyes, Arcadia Bay died with Chloe Price.

Max spent the first few months back in Seattle, but after recurring nightmares and few instances of self harm, her parents brought her to her to a clinic.

There, they were treating possible victims of the Dark Room and those who were traumatized by what happened in Blackwell. It was here she regrouped with Kate and Victoria, who have spent their time healing over their issues with one another, and in time Max was taken into the fold.

After another few months in the clinic, they made a trip to Seattle, were they started to settle in before returning to Arcadia Bay...under really bad circumstances.

It was frankly eerie how much it matched reports of Beaver Creek.

It was May of 2014. All in the span of a single night, a hundred or so people were found butchered in their homes, beds and the streets. Among the survivors where the few Blackwell students who stayed behind and held out in Blackwell's dormitories.

They described the attack as being like a zombie apocalypse. Others described it as an organized attack.

And that curious bit about zombies ? The local cemetery had only one unearthed grave - that of Chloe Price. Chloe's body wasn't found after the fact.

The case was investigated by a number of different groups, that didn't appear to be any agency Max ever heard off. Many of them were taking recruits from survivors such as Warren, but Max heard nothing of the investigation.

Over the years, Max has reached out to both Joyce and David. She kept up regularly with them for some time. It was two years ago that Joyce dropped a bit of a bombshell on her.

Sometime before Chloe died, she was writing a series of letters, mostly to whatever friends or family she had in the area in case she were to "disappear". They dated back to when Rachel disappeared. Some of them were confession letters, borderline suicide notes, and posthumous wishes.

Among them was the revelation that months before Rachel disappeared, Chloe took some pretty drastic measures in raising money. Which included donating her ovum's to a clinic at a neighboring town (the money they got ending up being spent on other out of town trips).

According to Chloe's wishes, what happens to her eggs would be up to Joyce, and Joyce had them on hold.

It was a chance to keep a piece of Chloe alive for Joyce, and a chance to give her a legacy. And chance for Max to do the same. In 2017, Max finally approached Joyce with the offer to be a surrogate.

And that is how Bill Caulfield Price ended up in the picture.

While she had help and support from her friends and family, Max didn't exactly have it in her to pursue her dream of being a professional photographer. She did a few jobs to keep her and Bill afloat; taking family photos at the local mall, and she did a few jobs for the agency Victoria was working for.

Her bi yearly salary was 20,000 dollars, so she managed to get by alright.

Somewhere in the night, in between listening to News stories of potential terror attacks, and walking down memory lane, Max drifted off into dreamland.

----

In the meantime, Bill Caufield Price was back in dreamland.

Yet again, he was watching King Arthur claim Excalibur, the knights of his round table, the affair of Lancelot and Guinevere. The addition of vampires, and werewolves, was not part of any stories of Arthur he'd learn of in school, and yet they were ever present in his dreams.

And finally, he was once again seeing Mordred's conception, birth.

He see's Mordred growing up, seeing him as a playful child running through the forest. It was many instances, Bill thought Mordred could see see him too, but he was different as a boy then when he was a man. Honestly, Bill was half tempted to run in the woods with the four year old Mordred.

But a presence was there that filled Bill with fear.

She wasn't his real mother. Inn fact she carved him from his mother Morgause's tummy when she was left to die.

When Bill see's her, he sees this ethereal being of crimson and scarlet; instinctively he just calls her The Red Lady, but over time he may call her The Blood Queen.

She raised Mordred alone for the most part, and would often sing or chant that annoying catchy lullaby to him. In the same way, she filled Bill with fear, she was filling Mordred with arrogance, and above all else, hatred for his father.

And unlike Mordred, Bill knew for sure that she saw him too, as she spoke to him, knew his name; he just never could remember what she was saying.

As his dream continues, he once again sees Mordred as he grows into the knight of legend. Although most legends may exclude the bit about Mordred being vampiric. Bill sees Mordred, yet again rallying his own band of knights, his rallying cry echoing in his ears.

"Let us cleanse this farce with fire! Strike the fool who leads the liar! Let it all come crumbling down! Like the firebird from the ashes, we will rise to lead the masses! The strongest will emerge to wear the crown!"

When daylight finally came and Bill woke up just as he seen the visage of Mordred in the present day. Upon waking up Bill saw his mothers bed was empty. He guessed where she'd be next as he hopped off the bed and made his way down the hall.

When he found Max sleeping on the couch, he reached out to her head and gave her an impatient shake of her head, rousing Max awake.

"Mmm.. Chlo- what ?" Max mumbles as she wakes up to see Bill look at her "Oh, there you are you little monkey." She smiles teasingly as she sits herself up and lifts Bill onto her lap "Sorry, mummy had to take a call. Aunt Kate and Vicky are coming over, how does that sound ?"

"I've been having those dreams again," Bill says "About that knight man..."

"What was he doing this time ?" Max asks.

"Same thing as before. He was in jail in today times," Bill starts "But before I woke up, he was killing people in there before he got out."

Chapter Text

1920, Location Unknown

Mary Reid didn't know when she has been this happy.

Two long years of misery, two long years of what she thinks is a dream of Heaven.

And it's one she never wished to wake up from, for she held the one she never thought she'd hold again.

Connor, her Connor. The child taken from her too soon in life and whose passing was just the start of his toddling years. Just as he was  starting to form words.

Now that Mary was here with him, nothing else she left behind  mattered; not London, not her murders; not even Jonathan, or whatever resentment she may have held for him.

All these things left behind. Now it was only her and Connor. Mary wasn't exactly sure where the was. If she took a look around her, she may recognize this as a place of nostalgia. A summer home she and Jonathan spent much of their childhood and adolescence. Where she hoped she could take Connor one day.

This was all in the back of her mind. What was in the front of her mind was feelings of bliss, happiness, and love. It practically numbed her. The pain of the past, was all but forgotten. Like a bad dream.

Here, Mary would walk hand and hand with Connor, up a peaceful and serine road or stream. They'd make sand castles on the bed of a lake, and in some instances even run through the fields, or tending a garden.

Just about everything, she wished she could have done before Connor fell ill.

In the times Mary could speak, she'd say something along the lines of  "Oh Connor, no pinchies. Mummy knows this isn't a dream." or "A flower necklace, for Mummy ?"

When night took hold of this land, they would just sit under the stars, and Mary would tell stories of the constellations ("You see that ? Ursa Minor, the baby bear. And that one is Ursa Major! The Mama Bear!")

It's been like this day in and day out. It could have been anywhere from two years to two hundred years.

And then they day came when mother and son lay together in the middle of the field. The mind numbing sensation of bliss started to over take Mary she nearly felt herself pulled into a deep sleep.

Then she felt it - the disappearance in her arms.

Mary opens her eyes, to see Connor is out of her grasp, nowhere to be seen.

"Connor ?" Mary asks perking her head around "Connor ?"

She turns her head to see Connor standing at the edge the forest. At the back of her mind, she would have noted an increase of crows and ravens. Either flocking in the trees or calling out to her.

She could almost hear them say "CAW-NER, CAW-NER, CAW-NER!"

Had Mary paid any more attention, she would have seen the usually clear blue sky and golden sun has turned a dark red, blanketing the area as if it where sunset. The green, lush forested area also started to redden, and their leaves started to fall. As if by the fall and winter months started to roll in.

"Connor, don't scare me like that." Mary says already feeling a sense of dread fill her heart, as she tried to call her son to her "You don't run off from mummy-"

As she says this, Connor points off into the trees and says something inaudible.

When Mary makes her way to him, Connor darts off, quickly disappearing into the brush.

"Connor!" She screams as she bolts after her.

The next few minutes was a brush of red, mixed with the feeling as heart pounding fear. She would always see Connor just ahead of her. By the time she reached him, he would always run.

The air was sound with the calls of ravens - "CAW-NER, CAW-NER, CAW-NER!" and interspersed throughout their calls was the mirthful laughter.

The laughter was getting louder and louder, overpowering the sound of the birds. All the way until she reached the river bed.

It was there Mary sees it. Connor was standing at the edge of the bank. And on the other bank, flew a flock of ravens, fluttering around this figure.

The ravens dispersed as the figure move through (on ?) the water towards Connor.

Connor looked back and forth between the figure and Mary. As he looked to his mother, he mutters out "Mama ?"

Mary, for her part was stunned. Silent and still like statue.  Paralyzed in a mixture of fear and awe as the shape revealed itself.

It was a woman. Beautiful wasn't quite the word to describe her. She was ethereal. She had long red hair and a matching red and black dress and robes, both of which flowed as if they were one with the wind around her. Aside from the obvious red and black in her colors, her skin was pale, the whiteness stuck out as it seemed to glow.

As she made her way closer to Connor, she looked between the Mary and her son, and her full, red lips curved into a cocky and knowing smirk. Her eyes appeared white, seeming to lack any pupil or iris, but made up for them with the shades of red painted around her eyes.

Mary could see the woman's dress was almost transparent, showing the woman's imposing, but curvey form beneath/through her clothing. She was like the illustration pagan queen, drawn from an erotica novel. The air she carried about herself was one of attraction and dread. Like something out of an erotic nightmare.

As this ethereal woman reached Connor, she smiles down at the boy, who looked back at Mary with a look of genuine fear as she crouches down go the boy.

When Mary saw this stranger pick her child up, her instincts kicked her paralysis to the curve. She found her resolve and strength, and sprang forward.

"Stay away from him!" Mary shouts, ready and willing to rip this woman apart like a lioness, for laying so much as one hand on he son.

When she was within reaching (and choking) distance, the red woman glares at Mary which alone cause her to stop, despite herself.

Then the woman looks to Connor and began to sway left and right as Connor began to whimper. When she spoke, the woman's voice implied a Celtic origin.

"Ring around the rosie," She sings.

"Let him go!" Mary shouts, finding her voice but faltering when she tried to find her will to fight.

"A pocket full of posie," The red woman sing, kissing an increasingly uncomfortable Connor repeatedly on the cheek.

"Give me my son!" Mary all but lunges on the woman.

"Ashes, ashes," The woman says turning towards Mary, forming a wide smile "They all. Fall. Down." She holds the boy in the air and tosses him up several feet.
Mary found her will to run again, and just manages to catch a crying Connor, trying to shush him as the woman backs away with a clapping giggle.

Mary turns to the woman and red with a vicious glare "What the Hell are you ?"

"Exactly," The woman says with another giggle "Who I am, is a name long forgotten. Olympus has fallen. Asgard has fallen. Buried by the church, I stand as the last of the gods of old. Perhaps you heard my name in fables as you grew. To many, I am the last daughter of the Morrigan. My business, is with your family."

Mary says nothing, still a little in disbelief as this woman continues. Connor was burying his face in the crock of her neck.

"I...don't take many things personally, Miss Reid," The woman says as she begins circling Mary "I have lost a few great battles in my time - to warriors who thought they slain me; Beowulf, Arthur, Marshall. Not even Cù Chulainn could get the best of me. But your brother- he knows I will awake, and already he is on the path that can assure my destruction. True death. Already he's learned too much, and there is little I can do to stop him. I figured, you could be more persuasive."

At this point Mary finally found her voice.

"No, I can't." Mary shakes her head "I am dead to that world. Buried. As is whatever grief I have with my brother. I will be of no use to you and whatever fight you have with Jonathan."

The woman sighs sullenly "I was thinking you'd say that. You're trying to make this harder than you should be. But rest assure, I can make it the easiest decision you'll ever make."

"You have nothing to offer me," Mary says, looking at Connor "I have everything I could want here. There is nothing more I can ask for."

"I can give you something better. For you and for him." The woman answers her "Do you not know what the power of the Morrigan grants me ? I hold dominion over those who die under me. Be it by my hand, my words and will. Say, a plague. Just as you. Just as your son."

Just as the woman says this, Connor began to shake in Mary's arms, crying and coughing.

"Connor ? Connor are you-?" Mary starts as Connor breaks into a loud coughing fit.

The woman's smile became more and more mirthful as Mary does what she can to try to soothe the boy.

"Stay with me, Connor." Mary says reassuringly, but unable to believe it herself "Mummy's here, mummy's got you. It's all going to-"

Mary tries her best when a red smear of blood starts to form under Connor's nose.

"Connor ? Conno-" Mary is yet again when Connor began to cry louder and louder, blood splattering from his mouth with every cough.

As he did this, the child's skin started to blacken and crack at Mary's touch.

"Mama!" Connor wept again.

"Connor! No, don't!" Mary says as she starts to whimper "Please! Don't leave me again..."

Just as she says this, Connor fell through her arms and fingers and into a black heap of dust.

"No..." Mary whimpers, barley audible in her voice, tears already running down her face as she collapses into the dirt beneath her.

The woman in red's smirk doesn't falter as she walks up to Mary and crouches down to her eye level.

"Poor, poor little Mary...surely you must see my reasoning now-" The red woman says brushing a lock of Mary's hair, before the latter lunges, tackling the woman into the river bed.

Mary holds her head down, choking her out with one hand and smothering her face with the other "YOU MONSTER! YOU TOOK MY SON FROM M-!"

With little effort but a lot of force, the woman shoves and Mary lands a dozen feet away in a heap as the woman casually gets up. Indigently huffing, she advances towards Mary, staring daggers.

"That is quite enough from you. I must say from one mother to another, one mustn't resort to theatrics. Truth be told, it's quite fucking embarrassing."

The woman looks down at and begins circling Mary as she wept on the ground.

"Why ?" Mary sobbed "Why me ?"

The woman in red continued circling Mary, casually  drawing a mark in the sand with her foot "I have been bested a number of times Miss Reid, and I have been disappointed a number of times by my Disasters. But you're brother, and Miss Harriet Jones ? Have been one to many. And now he is well on his way to discovering the means of my ultimate destruction. I cannot awake to prevent him myself, and I feel I am to make an example of my sons latest example. And what better example than the first sin of his unlife ?"

Mary looked up in utter disbelief at what has happened and what she was hearing.

The woman crouches down, once again at eye level with Mary, her smirk once again forming.

"When you rose, you were a walking reminder of his original sin. A murderous disaster in the making. I wish I could have remedied that. Perhaps than, your brother wouldn't have killed you; how many of us wouldn't sacrifice a loved one for the world, or the world for a loved one ? It is a story told time and again, and it's always been one of my favorites. Would you not do the same, Mary Reid ?"

Mary finally found her voice, however broken it sounded "You want me to kill my brother."

"No," The woman in red cooed, wiping a tear from Mary's eye and licking it off her finger "I want him broken. Him and any other mothers son Myrddin sends to best me. Just as broken as you are, as you were when you first awakened."

"...my son.." Mary says in a timid voice.

"I have taken him. I can give him back. I can give him back in a stronger, more powerful form. Give you two the life you could only wish for." The woman explains in a tender voice, brushing hair out from Mary's eye "Would he not be worth the world, Miss Reid ?"

Mary was still and silent for a moment before the woman spoke again.

"I can always leave you here to think about-"

"What must I do ?" Mary asks "What must I do, just tell me..." she says in a broken tone of voice.

The woman's plump lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile, as she reached upwards to the top of her dress. Mary was taken aback as the woman's clasps and buckles opened. Once she had the bindings undone, the woman shoved the robe down her arms, revealing a pair of round, full breasts. Bringing own hand up, the woman clawed one of her finger nails into the nipple drawing out the smallest bit of blood.

"Drink." The woman whispers, taking a cradling hold of Mary's head "From me."

Mary's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open in a gasp, but she felt the woman clutch her dark hair. Her eyes darted back and forth between the woman's pale eyed and her breasts, like she couldn't believe she was actually doing this.

She thought "playing" with other women in her living days, but her fantasies from way back when where in a more romantic or ideal context. Not this nightmare.

The woman then she used her grip on Mary's head to urge her forward...

----

As she did before, when she awoke in the grave, Mary dug her way out with her fingers and teeth, through the dirt and the snow.

When she emerged from the grave her vision was dilated. She was disoriented, and confused, but she knew she wasn't alone.

In fact she was surrounded by dozens of dark shapes; many looked human but there was a certain boldness and non chalance about them. Even with the sight of a woman pulling herself from the grave. It was as if they were expecting Mary.

One of them in particular stood before Mary, walking up to her with an open embrace.

"Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi," she heard them, chant, through muffled voices.

As the apparent leader of this crowd took hold of her, she felt something like a needle digging into her neck.

"Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi. Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi."

Mary felt herself collapse into this figures arms, and the arms of many others, pulling and handling her like a rag doll as she fell into an exhausted heap.

As she drifted off, she heard the woman in red's voice speak out above them.

"A-mhàin mi..."

When Mary's eyes open she found herself in darkness.

At first it took a while for her eyes to adjust, but she soon realized she was in a bedroom.

It had a plain, if familiar look to it; no noticeable designs painted in the wall, just a set of mirrors, and a queen sized bed at the rooms corner. She climbed from the bed with a yawn and stretch. She turns to see a window, and when her eyes fully adjusted, she saw she was in a three story bedroom, and wherever she was, it was a cold winter night, with nary a star in sight.

Mary walks to the window, noting a plain white dress she wore, and how her dark hair was now down. As she looked out into the night sky, she began to collect her thoughts.

As it call came back to her, Mary felt a shiver up her back, turning around as she heard a gasp.

Mary looks over her shoulder to see her door was open, and a girl standing in the doorway. She was clearly a handmaiden, had a short blonde haircut, and couldn't be older than fourteen to fifteen years of age. She was carrying a basket of clothes, which she dropped and spilled on the floor beneath her.

"Istenem!" The young maid says with a covered mouth "Sajnálom, I must inform the Mistress."

"Wait!" Mary says, stopping the girl before she could leave. When Mary walks closer, she notices healed marks on the younger girls wrists, and neck. Furthermore, the girl was very much thin and pale, as if feed upon for days, if not weeks.

"I'm sorry," The girl mumbles as she starts picking up the spilled clothes.

"Here, let me." Mary days, picking up a long and elegant blue dress "I take it this is my new evening wear ?"

"Igen," The girl nods "You were not supposed to be awake."

Mary nods a little, taking the dress and laying it neatly on her bed.

"Do you have a name ?" Mary asks, turning back to the girl.

"Kara," The handmaiden answers timidly "I was tasked by Mistress Elise to be your chambermaid."

"How long was I here ?"

"Six weeks," Kara answers "I was in charge of tidying your room, feeding you as you slept...bathing you." She sounded especially ashamed of the last bit.

Mary pauses and brushes that part off before asking "Can you tell me where I am ?"

"Vár Bíbor Mezők...Hungary." Kara says "I-I really must go. I am to tell the Mistress when you awake. If I keep her waiting, I sleep in the Vaságy. Again."

As Kara says this she grabs hold of her  wrist in a defensive manner. This didn't escape Mary's notice and felt a pull on her maternal feeling that still lingered in the back of her mind.

"Go then," Mary nods "Do not disappoint your Mistress."

Kara gives another nod, before timidly leaving the room.

Mary turns back to her bed, looking over the dress. If she was to meet this woman, she was to make herself look presentable.

----

Later in the night, after Mary got out of her nightgown and into the blue dress, she made her way down the halls.

She was led by Kara, and when Mary took in her surroundings, she wasn't too impressed.

Growing up with a background such as hers, Mary was a little accustomed to visiting manors - be it attending parties or family gatherings, summer homes, even the odd visit to a castle. She felt that if you seen one castle, you have seen them all.

Two things of not stood out; the portrait that seems to appear in every hall; they all depicted a rose, always with an exaggeratedly large thorns.

The second thing she noticed was all the servants. Little if any of them was any older than their adolescence. All wore white, form fitting clothes befitting of younger children. Pale and fragile, much like Kara, they too bore the marks on their wrists and necks.

They all averted their gaze when she tried to look at them.

Kara approached a door, and cautiously knocks.

"Belép," another woman's voice answers.

Kara nods and opens the door; the room was a particularly large library, little to no different that the ones Mary spent her early blooming years in. Mary notices how nervous Kara is staring at the fireplace before them.

There sat a woman in one of two chairs reading a nondescript book, and them staring at them expectantly.

She was about her mid thirties in appearance, and while as pale as her servants, her skin had a more lively hue to it. Her hair was an auburn brown, and shoulder length. She wore a black and white dress as elegant as the one Mary wore, but highlighted by the silver and jewels she wore on her person and in the dress itself, and a necklace of roses.

Her eyes where as bright as they where blue, giving her a surprisingly lively appearance, and her lips curved into a knowing and expectant smile.

"Mistress Bathory," Kara does a curtsey bow to the woman "Your guest has been prepped and dressed as you have requested."

Mary turns her head back and forth between the servant girl and her Mistress, visibly caught off guard by the mention of that name.

"You are dismissed, Kara. Go now, least I call upon you again for personal expectation." The woman replies with a hungry looking smirk.

Mary notices the way Kara shifts and looks away under her Mistresses gaze, clutching her arm in a defensive manner. Kara hastily bows her head and leaves the room.

"So the kis galamb has awakened," The Mistress addresses Mary "Please, take your seat." She gestures to the chair opposite of her.

Mary wordlessly nods and makes her way to the Mistress.

"Mistress Bathory ?" Mary asks "Would you prefer if I refer to you by title or name ?"

The Mistress smiles and takes Mary's hand once she's close enough, kissing it as if she were a man trying to charm her.

"My name ? The Bathory name has haunted me for generations. No doubt you know the tales and rumors that slander my great, great, great, etcetera grandmother." The Mistress speaks as Mary takes her seat "I have tried to marry out of the name, but a suitor hears the name Elsie Bathory, they tend to flee. It's not a lonely existence of course; as you can see I have quite a collection of company from the war orphans. I give them a home, and meaningful labor, and ask very little in return than their blood, swear and tears."

"Hmm," Mary starts "And I take it that's the official story ?"

The Mistress giggles in a mirthful manner "A clever little dove, are you ? I'm sure you have other stories ? Well, out with them then."

"Why am I here ?"

"You are here," The Mistress starts "Because my higher ups, my own lords, wish for your protection and education."

"But I am quite educated in quite a few matters," Mary says unsure of where this was going "What more do I need to learn ?"

"Your place," Mistress Elsie answers. She gets up from her seat and circles Mary's chair, affectionately(?) brushing her hand across Mary's neck.

Mary freezes at her touch, mortified and confused about what was happening. She didn't move out of fear of this woman's ire.

"There is to be a feast within a fortnight. I am to host, and you, Miss Reid, are the guest of honor.

As she says this, Elsie's hand brushes down the side of Mary's side, increasingly making the younger woman uncomfortable.

She now stood close to Mary, staring down from in front of her as Mary looked up, feeling like a confused child. All the Mistress would have to do is sit and she'd be on Mary's lap.

"Tell me Miss Mary," The Mistress asks softly "Have you've... been with anyone recently ?"

"I don't understand-"

"With a man and/or woman, is what I mean." The Mistress clarifies.

Mary felt herself flush and look away "N-not in - I don't know how long I have been carnal with a man. W-women I have considered-" She stops herself when she realizes what she is saying "Why is that important ?"

The Mistress takes Mary by the chin and makes her face her.

"Consider it part of your education." The Mistress leans down, and presses her knee softly between Mary's legs, causing the younger woman to gasp/moan and tense beneath her "As it is with my servants."

The Mistress backs away, this sudden action causing Mary to gasp again as she was just getting used to the sensation.

"For future reference, when your Mistress asks of you something of you, you will give it to her. Least you invoke my displeasure  Understand ?"

Mary gives a shaky nod at Mistress Elsie's voice.

"Good." Elsie answers looking around "This Library, as with my servants, are at your disposal."

As she says this, she takes Mary by the wrist and stands her up.

"For each night that passes until the banquet, I will educate you here on our history one night, with your physical education on the next. My servants, will feed you, bath you, dress you, anything you deem fit. Kara will be your personal handmaiden, but if she is to displease you, feel free to ask for a new one. What say you Miss Reid ?"

Mary took a moment to take this all in before asking with a quiet voice "I don't have a choice, do I ?"

She knew she was in trouble with Mistress Elsie gave another mirthful giggle. She felt the mistress run her hand down her back, taking a pause on the spot were Mary's rump meets her thigh. This causes Mary to shake out more words.

"I have one other question." Mary says shaking as the older woman released her grip. "Can you tell me exactly what's happening to me ?"

"You were picked as I was," The Mistress answers "To carry our mothers spirit and spread her will on others such as us. I too, was once in your position. Marked by the Blood Queen."

Bathory looks up, paying close attention to the portrait of a knight hanging over her fire place.

"We are part of a...club. Although naysayers will call us a cult. The Mother's Children." Elsie starts "They found me when I first married, and gave me a place to make a name for myself. In return, I was to create what you may know as disasters. I was...sterilized, so to speak by my enemies. But what I lack in power I more than make up for in influence."

Elsie turns back to Mary.

"It was them who found you. The last Disaster has, well, ended in disaster." The Mistress says with a shrug "And so we move to correct their mistakes. From what I've been told, your brother has learned to much already. To much of us, and to much of the Blood Queen. And that is why we called upon you Mary Reid. And why I will teach you in our ways. Any more questions ?"

Mary once again takes a moment to take in all this information "I take it we are to start to night."

"Tonight ? No, you take the night and what time you have to relax Miss Reid. Enjoy my manor or my servants, whichever you prefer. Many don't get a second chance at life...you should count yourself lucky you got a third one."

She once again takes hold of Mary's hand and leads her towards the doorways.

"Of course, it's never too early to share our history..."

----

That is how is started with Mary Reid.

Not a disaster or champion herself, Mary carried with her the spirit of the Red Queen; and wherever she goes and leaves her mark, the Red Queen makes her home.

Under the teachings and watch of "Elsie Bathory", Mary learned of whom to seek - it was the usual targets; hurt angered girls or young women, with the offer to "become whole". Most of the time these women were victims of abuse, neglect, traumas of any kind. Mary was picked because she understood what they needed, and would give it to them.

They where the kind of women The Mother's Children prey upon the most.

To some, Mary was an essential key to the Mother's Children, the one who goes where "Mother" calls. And wherever that was, Jonathan and/or what allies he made fought against them. Disaster slain, rinse and repeat.

To others, Mary was a glorified cult prostitute - even though she didn't always use sex as a method on these girls. In fact, more often than not, she just had to play the role of a motherly figure for the girls who needed one.

Mary would travel throughout England, the Celts, Slavic countries and Denmark. She turned eighteen women in four years, and each and everytime, Jonathan would put them down when research turned fruitless. It went on for years, putting no end of chaos on Jonathan Reid's shoulders.

Over time, she traveled throughout Africa, Asia, North and South America, where more of the same took place.

Every so often, Mary would encounter Jonathan over the decades. Some of them where more desirable than others. Wherever the Woman in Red calls Mary too.

Over the years, Mary learned more and more of the origins of the Mother's Children, the hidden role they had in myths and legends. It would seem they had a hand in every culture, whether recorded or not.

Hence why they reach or try to reach into every country they can.

Mary was told of Mordred, the infamous knight of legend and myth; the bastard son, nephew and usurper of Arthur.

To the Mother's Children, he was far, far more than that. The risen messiah, true leader of this religion of theirs; made as much for he risen within the generation of his "death" And the mediator, for his direct connection to the Blood Queen.

He was said to lurk among his followers as a snake in the grass; devil in plain sight.

Chances are one has crossed Mordred's path whether they know it or not. They wouldn't see him ruling from the shadows, dressed in extravagance, as dark lords or the type are classically said to do. In fact, the alias he takes once he approached someone may surprise them. No one knows they met him until he wants them to know.

Or in Elsie Bathory's own words; "When I met him, he was working for my family as a stable boy named Mattheo."

In Mary's case, when she finally (properly) met Mordred, it was in this club in Toronto, Canada in 1973.

At that time, he was a lounge singer, going by "Gordan Wilson". He'd would preform covers of course; Don't Pull Your Love and The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia were favorites of his.

This was also how Mary found out she unwittingly met Mordred in 1920.

And four more times since then.

For quite a while since she met Mordred, Mary found herself alone, separated from the rest of The Mother's Children. On one hand she found herself with more and more freedom over time, but every now and then she would hear the Blood Queen's call.

And on multiple nights, Mary would awaken crying from dreams of Connor, always within the Red Queen's grasp.

She knew she wouldn't be free for quite some time.

The time came when she heard the Call of the Red Queen again.

It was the year 1997, and it took her to a quiet, rather unassuming town in Oregon.

Mary spent no more than four days and nights in that town before she left, but as usual, she left the mark of the Red Queen there. And so the Queen's spirit lurked in the town unseen and undetected as she has before; watching and listening to the people of Arcadia Bay.

They had no way of knowing she was there, even as she stood beside them
.
At most, people would dream of her voice, or a raven. Many felt a something pull them to this town, and general area, from these dreams. Especially from the rotten and corrupt, though few ever reach Arcadia Bay itself.

One day, in the summer of 2000, she would watch unseen as two girls played a game of pirates in the sandbox. She became rather fixated on the one who was especially close to her father.

"Ah, there you are: a happy, innocent little tyke, aren't you ? I've been looking for you."

That little girl was the first of many girls in the county who had the Red Queen's attention, but this girl was her favorite life to play with.

As for Mary Reid; she never again heard the Queen's call until April of 2013. 

She was in Portland then, and would awake from a cold sweat, in her studio apartment.

With a haste in her step and as naked as the day she was first born, Mary reached for her bedside phone and dialed in an important number. It takes four rings before someone answers.

"Speaking ?"

"Lizzie ? Lizzie, it's me." Mary breathes out.

"Mary ? Mary, where are you ?" The voice of Elizabeth Ashbury asks.

"Portland, I've held a gala here in March, I thought you got my invites." Mary says with a sigh "It's not about that Lizzie...I need to see Jonathan. Is he with you ?"

"We're still looking for him..."

"Okay," Mary nods "I'm gonna seek you out. I think something is happening or is going to happen."

----

May 24th, 2014, Los Angeles

Rachel Amber - or Vivian Manning as she goes by - waits one night at a car in a parking lot.

She has just finished her latest trip to one of Steph's shows. She's made a near weekly habit of attending them over the past few months.

Coincidentally, or not son coincidentally, Cathy would always find where Rachel is sitting. Rachel low key thought Cathy was flirting with her, and made efforts to change her appearance slightly for whenever Steph would meet her face to face. And of course, Cathy would insist on meeting Rachel with Steph when the show was over.

"Do you always have meet and greets with fans, or is it just me ?" Rachel would ask.

"Only when they're cute." Cathy winks.

"Ah, so it is just me." Rachel would say coyly.

Rachel has seen Steph perform in as Lucy in Jekyll & Hyde; an extra in Hunchback of Notre Dame, based in part on the Disney movie; and as Fiona in Shrek the Musical - unlike Hunchback, Shrek mostly kept away from using songs from the movie, which Rachel wasn't too big on. Honestly if the show opened with a live rendition of Allstar that would have made her goddamn night.

Rachel was hoping Steph wouldn't recognize her but that was getting hard with how extensively Steph would look at her everytime they met.

What Rachel would do usually is color and cut her hair; currently she is wearing her hair short and in a comb over fashion; dyed black with bright red highlights.

So far it seemed to do the trick, just keep up the valley girl voice for as long as she can, and hope to got Steph doesn't connect the dots.

But Steph isn't stupid, Rachel would think to herself; in fact Rachel felt she herself was stupid for thinking Steph would fall for it.

That being said, so far it is working.

Every so often, Cathy would make a point to corner "Viv" after every show, and try to force a conversations with her and "Viv" would have to excuse herself when Steph looks at her too long.

One night, "Viv" had a dog in the vet, whose results she's waiting for; one night she had visitors from out of town coming the next day, and she had to prep her house. Another night, she has a photoshoot early in the morning.

Tonight, she's run out of excuses. Rachel waits at the side of a car, pacing back and forth. She considered bailing on this meeting all together, when Cathy came walking at a fast past towards her.

"You came!" Cathy says enthusiastically.

"I...said I would." Rachel remarks, noticing Steph trailing behind at a slower pace.

"Cath, babe, she's going to say no, just leave her alone." Steph starts to say  as she catches up, but Cathy ignores her.

"Steph and I, have been wanting to speak with you for some time," Cathy says pulling an awkward looking Steph to her side "We really appreciate you coming out here to show your support, and we've been meaning to show you our...gratitude for some time."

This causes Rachel's eyes to bulge and dart her eyes back to back between the two women.

"I...uh...appreciate the offer ladies." Rachel says with a flustered laugh "But, uh, I'm more of a dinner and a movie girl. Then we see where the night takes us."

This makes Steph blush and look away, and Cathy let's out a small chuckle.

"No, no, bien sûr que non," Cathy waves dismissively "We are having reservations for four in two days, and the other two flaked out on us," The French woman playfully bumps, Steph on the elbow. "This one, she never knew how to behave with others. Made me a break a glass last week."

"Mmm, is that so ?" Rachel says, keeping her eyes on Steph, specifically how uneasy she looks at Cathy "Well, I'll see what I have available this week."

"Perfect!"

----

Given the line of profession Rachel acquired over the past few months, she has also gained both lady and gentlemen callers. For this date Rachel picked out this girl she met a while back, Tracey.

Tracey was a local girl from Beverly Hills, an aspiring young actress and singer Rachel (as Vivian) met at a few parties and exchanged numbers with.

They were not going after anything serious - nor did they expect any, given they are currently on different paths (Tracey taking a two year college course, and Rachel being a vampire who has to keep a low profile least she invoke the wrath of more powerful and dangerous vampires.) - but they follow each others social media and she was the most "available".

Be it for booty calls, or just simple girl trips. In fact, in the past couple of weeks, they made a trip to see Demi Lovato in Mexico City, and Miley Cyrus in Los Vegas.

Rachel had to take some drastic measures to make sure she wouldn't be exposed to the sun (most notably an all day shower sex session); on one hand, she knew the sun was supposed to harm her, but her own exposure have her little more than hives.

In short, Tracey was the closest "Vivian" had to a real girlfriend at the moment, and of course she was available for the double date.

At Patina Restaurant, the four women were dressed in the most suitably extravagant dresses they could get their hands on.

The actual attendance was rather quiet and anti climactic. Despite being arm candy, Tracey was the one who did the most talking between the four, along with Cathy.

It was background noise for Rachel, as she kept looking as Steph stared at her, and would excuse herself to the bathroom every few minutes when Rachel would notice he staring.

Cathy would frequently make playfully snide jokes about Steph being on the rag this week.

On the flip side, Rachel was able to learn what happened to Steph after she left Arcadia Bay.

Steph - after leaving Blackwell for reasons she'd rather not bring up - found an arts school in the Seattle Area, before moving to California to study stage theatre. Unfortunately after her parents divorce, her dads been seeing a woman with rather…"conservative" beliefs.

Once Steph turned 18, she was significantly, and financially cut off from her family, with enough money for food or rent; not both. It was as the insistence of the new woman in her fathers life.

Luckily, Cathy would sweep after observing Steph's depression over her situation, and observing her while at theatre classes. Cathy was able to give Steph a home and money to get by; she also gave her connects she had in the stage industry.

It was a few acting gigs, and while she couldn't get any writing gigs for now, it was a start at at least. Everyone had to start somewhere after all.
Currently, they are staying at a Hilton Suite in Beverly Hills. Steph usually didn't go out without Cathy.

"So Miss Manning ?" Cathy starts "Do you have a story ?"

Rachel nods, and starts out with the same story he told Tracey or her other suitors as "Vivian Manning". It was a pretty generic, aspiring model story; rich girl with big dreams and daddy issues. She would even bring up the casting couch as a edgy realness take on her story.

It was less of a cover story Rachel invented and was partially a confession on her part. Either way, the "Casting Couch" bit caught Steph's attention. Tracey was unfazed, as this was something "Viv" told her about, and she previously decided it was best that Viv should work on her own pace.

"Oh my god," Steph says under her breath "You mean to say you where-"

"No," Rachel shakes her head defensively "No, not in my mind at least. It wasn't sexual or anything. I've posed nude plenty before, but that one time," she shudders a little "I think it had more to do with the guy who did it that screwed with me."

She thinks back to the Dark Room as the name slips from her lips before she could stop herself.

"Mark Jefferson."

There is a pregnant pause between the four.

"I take it you've heard of him ?" Rachel asks.

"He was all over the news so, yeah." Tracey speaks up "I hear he's a real monster. The kind of guy my dad and uncle would take back and-"

"Where are you from, exactly ?" Steph asks cautiously, looking a Rachel.

"W-why does that matter ?" Rachel asks back.

"It's just, the year before I left Oregon behind, the school I went to hired him out to teach. Was part of a bi-yearly tour he was on," Steph asks "I met him once, didn't really strike me as the monster type."

"They never do." Tracey adds.

Rachel looked at Steph, the way she changed. The way she looked back at her. It was familiar, all too familiar. And the subject of Jefferson, sent something going up her back like a snake.

"I''m- I'm sorry," Rachel mutters "I have to go. Mother Natures suddenly calling."

Rachel gets up and hastily makes her way to the bathroom.

She spends the next eight minutes hunched over the sink staring into the mirror.

She wasn't crying, but she sure as hell felt like it.

Steph has been having that effect on her lately. Rachel only ever sought her out was for that familiarity that nostalgia she had for Arcadia Bay. But with that brought reminders of the past she didn't welcome in comparison.

It brought her back to Jefferson, it brought her back to Nathan, and it brought her back to the fact that she should be dead. And yet here she was, a blood sucking corpse, walking and talking when she shouldn't.

Having to pretend to be a girl who didn't exist in order to move around, least she invoke the wrath of much more powerful, blood sucking corpses. Even the name "Vivian Manning" was a reminder of Jefferson (specifically an art gallery they attended once).

Her train of thought was interrupted when Steph enters the room with a calm but reassuring smile.

"I'm just checking in. Are you alright ?" Steph asks, taking her place bedsides Rachel.

"Just needed to be alone with my thoughts," Rachel says truthfully "A lot has happened for me in just a short time, I didn't want to make a fool of myself."

"You didn't. These things usually mean you've been strong for too long." Steph puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder "It also means you might need one to share the load. I guess your friend Tracey is helping you with that ?"

"She has her own problems and doesn't need to be dragged down to much. We're more like friends with benefits than anything else; we aren't really that close." Rachel shakes her head, her eyes water a little "It doesn't matter. It's my fault for bringing it up at all."

"No. It's really not." Steph nods "Look...I know I haven't been where you are, but I have seen the dark side too. By the looks of it, you needed to get a lot off of your chest."

Rachel hears herself sniff a little as she turns "What are you saying ?"

"What I'm saying is," Steph starts, taking Rachel by the chin and making her face her "I think you need an old friend to talk to."

Steph says this with the confidence and comfort of someone who knew "Viv" for years. Which she technically did, but, Steph wasn't supposed to know that.

"But I don't know that many people here," Rachel says, looking away with a chuckle.

"Well," Steph says, cautiously putting her hand on Rachel's "You can start with me, Rachel."

This causes Rachel's head to perk up and turn towards Steph, whose comforting smile was replaced with a knowing one.

"S- Steph, I don't know who you-" Rachel starts to stutter before Steph places a hand on her cheek.

"You've always been a terrible liar, Rachel Amber." Steph says with a soft tone "You'd always dart your eyes whenever you are caught in one, and you scratch your ear when you get flustered."

Just as Steph says this, Rachel glances aside to the mirror to see she is doing just that.

Signing in relief and defeat, Rachel turns back to Steph.

"How did you guess ?"

Now it was Steph's turn to look in the mirror.

"Actress, Rachel, and a theatre student in case you forgot. Had my suspicions for a while now. I heard about what happened in Arcadia Bay. Really got to me, y'know ?" Steph says with a sigh "Been following the news and everything."

Steph shrugs before looking at Rachel.

"I've been hearing you are dead. You were Arcadia Bay's favorite victim. Things got out about you and your dad tried to make it a publicity circus about his lost daughter." Steph explains, and Rachel buries her forehead into her hands with a groan.

"Of course," Rachel sighs, shaking her head in her hands , before looking back at her "But how did you guess, Steph ?"

Steph now has a sad smile as she looks to Rachel "I know it's kind of stupid of me to say this, but...For a while now I don't think I got over my crush on you."

Rachel couldn't help but smirk and snicker at this.

"Shut up, it's true!" Steph blushes a little before her mood dowers "I was really upset when I heard the news. Cathy teased me about it of course- and I just kept following the stories. One of them was about how your body disappeared from the morgue."

Steph sniffs a bit before she continues.

"So that night you came to my show, Cathy insisted on having me see you. She must have recognized you from pictures on the news, but when I saw you, I didn't want to believe it; I was almost relieved when you said you where Viv Manning. And Cathy kept showing me and teasing me, and I didn't know what to think." Steph shakes her head "Then you told that story. The daddy issues, the dreams of being a model...that monster Jefferson. I just knew."

Rachel has to choke back a sob before lunging forward and pulling Steph into a hug.

"I am so sorry," Rachel says "I am sorry I put you and everyone else through that; you, Frank, Chlo-"

"Rachel, I am not the one who needs apologizing too, and you are not the one who should be apologizing." Steph says before breaking the hug "But Rachel, I need to know the truth about what happened in Arcadia Bay; people just don't come back from the dead like that, and you certainly didn't feel like a ghost just now."

Rachel opens her mouth to start talking when the door swings open, and a women who had an unfortunate accident involving spilled drinks entered, grumbling herself at having to clean off.

"We'll talk about it later, I think we kept our dates waiting long enough." Rachel answers.

When they got back to the table, neither Rachel nor Steph said much. They just kept giving knowing looks to eachother.

By the dates end, Rachel and Steph where in considerably better spirits.

-----

May 27th, 2014

Rachel made her appointment for Steph three days later.

Cathy was out, had a nieces birthday to attend in San Francisco. Steph was playing sick. Steph wasn't allowed to have guests over when Cathy wasn't around, but what Cathy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Rachel finally arrives shortly after the sun went down; the excuse she used was "I had a photoshoot in the morning and this afternoon."

When Rachel enters in the Beverly Hills suite, she let out a deep "Whoo" at how spacious the place was.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Steph replies to her.

Rachel is given the expected guest routine; take a seat, have a drink, make herself at home.

Rachel takes her seat on the living room couch and when Steph goes to get her laptop, she makes a note of all the pictures on the wall.
They where all of Cathy. Specifically about her accomplishments; family photos, graduation photos, pics she's taken with celebrities; practically an entire vacation album.

The only ones of Steph where of her in her more sexualized stage outfits; a couple of her sunbathing on a breach, including some pics of an irritate Steph, having her top stolen by Cathy while on the beach. Steph herself didn't look too pleased when she saw Rachel looking at these pics.

Rachel saw her discomfort before saying "I know it's not for everyone, but there's nothing wrong with the human body. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I know." Steph nods setting up the laptop "Its just sometimes I want to feel like less than a trophy. I don't want to be someone else's bragging rights, you know ?"

Rachel's understanding nod cues Steph that she doesn't have to explain the bit where Cathy tossed her top and towel into the water at that beach, and made Steph retrieve it herself.

And if Rachel averting her eyes on the laptops wallpaper was any indication, she didn't need to know why the pic was of an indigent Steph getting a shower curtain pulled open on her.

Luckily, Steph gets chrome up, and gets to the news articles.

"Okay, these sites are the one that about cover everything that happened after you disappeared. Total media circus, I'm surprised you don't know about it already." Steph explains "I was emptying out the dishwasher, so I'm just gonna finish up while you catch up." She says as she excuses herself.

"Okie, dookie."

With that, Rachel was alone to read for the next hour or so.

First few articles cover what happened with/too Jefferson and the Prescott's. Jefferson immediately got the FBI (and mentions of the FBC. A typo maybe ?) involved with his arrest, and the multiple cases such as his throughout Oregon and several other states.

Supposedly the Prescott's were prepping to throw Jefferson under the bus as if he was the only one involved.

With the Prescott's scrambling to fix up the mess, a few of Sean Prescott's own skeletons in his closet slipped up. Particularly an incident involving a girl young enough to be friends with Kristin Prescott.

And when Prescott Senior couldn't make these skeletons disappear, he too disappeared. Some think he entered himself into witness protection, and left his remaining family to deal with the fallout. With his many assets frozen, and Prescott lost total control of the situation.

So much corruption and decay underneath Arcadia Bay's shiny surface was unearthed, that what happened was almost a relief.

Almost.

The next articles covered...that incident. Rachel didn't need to be reminded about it.

Skip.

Next dozen or so articles cover the victims and what survivors. Some she knew, others she didn't. Some of these survivors where made out to be harrowing heroes, as well as would be victims; they spoke of this girl, Kate Marsh, and this other would be victim in Max Caulfield, who was listed as a "critical witness" to Jefferson and Prescott's activity.

Even Victoria Chase was on that list of survivors.

Rachel was familiar enough with Max from how Chloe would often bring her up. Seemed like a cool enough girl from what she heard or seen of her so far. After what she heard Max has been through and was almost put through, she really wanted to meet her and tell her everything is okay.

Despite this, the media put less attention on Max and more so on the likes of Kate Marsh or Victoria Chase.

They where the favorite survivors.

Not to diminish whatever they went through, but the way the media covering them went about advertising them over talking about the others, rubbed Rachel the wrong way. It seems at times the media cared more about Kate and Victoria's respective backgrounds, such as religion or class. It felt like these "heroes" where being exploited for being victims.

It got so bad that Victoria's family had to step in to take her out of the spotlight.

Kate Marsh was followed from her hospital, to her home to her church. Kate eventually stepped out of the spotlight herself after having a panic attack over having to speak of her experience at a few churches by her mother and aunt.

As luck would have it, survivors and others traumatized over what happened where being at a private clinic in Seattle. This is where Marsh, and Chase were both treated.

Rachel almost felt like she was reading some Hollywood romance when news came out that Marsh and Victoria also came out (pardon the pun).

Suddenly, Kate wasn't the perfect victim her churches wanted to exploit. It really made Rachel's day!

Or night as it where...

The next article or two was about Nathan Prescott. These made Rachel uneasy.

After what happened, and Sean Prescott let Nathan to take his fall after the fact; responses where mixed. As was Rachel's own feelings on the matter.

Depending on the outlet that covered Nathan Prescott, he was either a privileged, Joffrey-esque prince who got exactly what he deserved - in fact he deserves worse than what he got. To others, he was a poor, poor victim of mental illness who needed help - that he was the biggest, and ultimately the only real, victim in all this.

As Rachel read over this, she was as much a mixed bag as her feelings for Nathan. She remembered his problems, both affecting him and affecting others. But she also remembered him as her friend; someone she bonded with over the past few years, even grew to care about.

Same as Chloe, same as Frank.

Nathan was someone she could talk to, and Rachel liked to think she was someone he could talk to as well. A constant was their daddy issues, problems from home.

That's not to say, Rachel didn't talk to Chloe about her issues and visa versa. But the thing is, Chloe's issues and her own where apples and oranges in comparison. With Nathan, things just sort of clicked.

But now, Rachel wonders how much of it was real on Nathan's end. Now with Victoria Chase on Jefferson and Nathan's list; and Victoria was Nathan's best friend!
Rachel shook her head before going to the articles she was going avoiding up until now.

The ones covering her.

After Victoria and Kate where no longer the ideal victims, and with no one left to exploit, that left only Rachel Amber. And her story went well beyond the Dark Room.

After the fact, Sean Prescott's skeletons in the closest where not to only ones. Now the media was all to eager to get their hands on whatever Rachel's secrets came out, all too eager to make "Arcadia Bay's Favorite Daughter/Student" into the favorite victim.

Or at least the version of Rachel Amber they wanted.

See, the narrative was told by a number of character witnesses. At least those who could speak out. But it controlled primarily by James Amber.

The story they told of Rachel Amber was of this pure, perfect teenage girl.

The ideal daughter, the ideal student from the ideal background and family. The perfect narrative foil to both Nathan supporters and detractors. All but crowned the "Princess of Arcadia Bay", taking to a dark place in her life at the behest of "Undesirable Influences".

To them, the "Tragedy of Rachel Amber" had more to do with her going off the "right path" than her actual disappearance, or even her death. After all, if she stayed with more desirable peers, wouldn't have died in the first place!

Who cares if her now troubled relationship with her father pushed her away from her family ? So what if James Amber's past relationships with Sera Gearhardt, and the fact he was paying for her silence came to light ? Why does it matter if Rachel was one of many young women groomed by Mark Jefferson ?

If you where to believe the narrative spun by certain news outlets and a few character witnesses (such as one Eliot Hampden), Chloe Price and Frank Bowers where more to blame for Rachel's death than either Nathan Prescott or Mark Jefferson.

And that's what really started to get to Rachel. You hear from the right news outlet, read the right comment sections ? You get a whole lot of bullshit painting Chloe as if she were the villain of Rachel's story.

The way these people needled Chloe for any noticeable slip up was outstanding. You hear a story of Chloe taking a muffin or two from a bake sale her mother catered at, you'd think people were talking about Albert Fish taking another victim.

Or that time Chloe loudly and publicly snapped at Victoria Chase over a catty comment on the anniversary of her father's death ? Who cares if they both apologized and talked things over ? Did she not know Victoria was being groomed by Mark Jefferson ? Clearly, Chloe needed to be a little more sensitive.

Within the same sections, what Nathan did was a trivial matter at best. The response to a character witness describing Nathan spiking a drink at a party and talking the witness into silence; "Well what did you expect him to do ? Do you not know how serious mental illness is ? He needs help, not punishment!"

And that's not getting to the Jefferson apologists.

When someone with fame or influence becomes a subject of controversy such as this, thru have as much passionate supporters as they do detractors.

Jefferson was a B List celebrity in the photography world, and was arrested for forty seven (and counting) cases of abduction, assault and murder across several states and several years. All this to say, Rachel was surprised at how much people where willing to defend him.

Then again, even Ted Bundy had charmed numerous women through his trial and even his imprisonment.

Rachel decided she was about done reading when she got to the part describing the death threats the "Blackwell Survivors" have been receiving for speaking out against him.

Rachel shuts the laptop with an indignant huff, closes her eyes and shakes her head. When she opens her eyes, she sees Steph sitting beside her, looking at her expectantly.

"I didn't want to interrupt you." Steph says.

"I didn't know the full story," Rachel shakes her head "This was a lot to take in."

"Yeah well, it wasn't a picnic for me to look through." Steph shrugs, which catches Rachel of guard.

"Oh my God, Steph, I'm so sorry-" Rachel starts, and instinctively tries to hug her, before Steph waves her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it." Steph says "I told you that you don't need to apologize to me. But Rachel, I need to know how you are...you know, not dead ? After reading all that about you, I think I am at least owed an explanation."

Rachel takes a moment and a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

"Well Steph, old buddy, old pal, old chum of mine ? I don't know what to say. Fact of the matter is I was dead for months, and have been awakened by a cabal of vampires, worshiping a dark goddess of death and war. I rarely ever hear from them but they watch me like a hawk; and I think they want to use me for something. Oh, and I am a bloodsucking leech myself and have to wean on blood bags least I terrorize the good people of Los Angeles as the half human ghoul I am! I got a working air conditioner though, so that about checks everything else."

That was what went through Rachel's head. What went out of her mouth was.

"Look Steph, my death ? Part of a cover up. After what happened with Jefferson and Nathan, I was left for dead. These people found me and tried to keep me safe." Rachel says, partially telling the truth "Think of it like...an informal witness protection deal. I was supposed to wait until everything blows over...and you should know the rest."

Rachel gestures to the laptop to empathize her point.

"Yeah, I know." Steph nods "I wanted to reach out to people, y'know ? Drew, Mickey ? But you can guess how much luck I had in that department. I wanted to go to the service, but Cathy gets the first and only say in trips."

Rachel nods, and because it felt like the right thing to do, pulls Steph into a hug, catching the girl off guard. Steph nearly flinched away from the hug, before she returned it.

"I am so sorry. So sorry, that I don't think I can apologize enough-" Rachel starts to apologize before Steph cuts her off.

"And I'm sorry you where put through that monster," Steph replies "But Rachel, I have to know- have you tried reaching out to anyone else ? I think I shouldn't be the only one-

"No!" Rachel says defensively, breaking the hug before collecting herself "No, I already took a risk seeking you out. And even then I think that was luck more than anything else."

"But Rachel, what about your pare-" Steph starts before Rachel interrupts her.

"I will deal with that when the time comes," Rachel starts before settling on her excuse "Look Steph, a case like mine - a highly public case - people are going go be asking questions when or if I just come out of no where. And after everything that happened in Arcadia Bay, especially with Prescott senior on the loose, it's probably for the best that I stay Vivian Manning for the time being. Just wait until the trials over at least...it just doesn't feel safe you know."

Steph takes a moment to take this all in and nods "Okay...Rachel, I know it's not much coming from me, but as a friend, I promise I will do everything within my power to keep you safe...if you let me."

Rachel gives a beaming smile and nods "Thanks Steph, and it actually does mean a lot. But remember, in public, I am Vivian."

Steph smiles drawing a cross across her heart and holding her wrist out; she has only one pinky finger out. Rachel looks and holds out her own pinky, wrapping it around Steph's and locking them together.

The two girls laugh at the gesture but unlocked their fingers from eachother; a pack more binding and sacred than a handshake.

After a moment, Steph breaks the silence.

"So, what do we do now ?"

Rachel sighs and leans back on the couch "I don't know. I feel like I can't just leave after letting all that out, or taking all that in...and it wouldn't feel right leaving you here by yourself."

Steph hesitates before she comes up with a suggestion.

"I've been wanting to see that new Spider-Man movie. Cathy doesn't want me watching stuff like that; says superhero stuff is beneath me. And I'm usually not supposed to leave our suite alone...so I guess I could use a plus one."

Rachel takes a few seconds to think about it before nodding "Spider-Man, huh ? Well looks like my schedules clear for the night."

"Perfect," Steph says getting up from the couch "We go now we can be forty minutes till the next show."

"Well then," Rachel says getting up after her "Time stands still for no woman."

"Just let me get my coat and wallet." Steph says heading to her room at a brisk pace.

When the two girls left for the movies, unbeknownst to either of them, a many cam from behind the living room TV was recording everything.

-----

June 22rd, 2014, California

Rachel woke up feeling a tad annoyed, and on the edge.

Any other day, she would make some excuse to hang out with Steph or any number of gal pals, but lately Steph had to check in the hospital. Few days ago, she had an accident with the oven; the stove slammed on her hand and now she was bed ridden over it.

Left in Cathy's care of course.

If that's not enough, Rachel got messages the past couple days from her handlers. It was rare when they reached out to her, usually just to remind her of her place.
Recently she has received a new message; "You've enjoyed your seven month vacation long enough. Boss man wants to see you."

Rachel read up on to know about the boss man; Mordred of Fey, Bastard of Arthur. Apparently the stories told of either King or Usurper did neither justice. In short, Rachel was not just meeting an apparent celebrity within the vampire community...but a villain from a story book she read when she went through that mythology phase as a kid.

How much of it even counted as mythology at this point was up for debate.

In the past few notes she read on this cults history, she learned not only King Arthur and his Knights had their hands in the vampire cookies jar; she learned of Cù Chulainn, the "First Champion of Myrddin" (or as he was known then, "Lugh"); Beowulf was the second champion, and Grendel was a damphir - the first damphir in fact.

One thing that confused her was how the sunlight was supposed to burn and even kill vampires. Not something Hollywood made up, but recorded instances in their history. That's how Cù Chulainn and Mebd, finally died.

But so far, he most the sun did to Rachel was make her sluggish and develop a skin rash. She'd have to look into that.

Rachel was told that a limo will pick her up the coming nights. His one request to her was to make herself look presentable; or just to doll herself up as usual.

The night the limo came for her, Rachel washed the color out of her hair, presenting it in a wavy style. She he dolled herself with makeup to give herself a goth aesthetic;  a black cocktail dress, white (fake) fur coat and thigh high leather boots.

She would be driven out of the city, and Rachel would otherwise think of those gangster movies where they drive out to the desert, put two in the back of the head bury you in an unmarked grave.

Would that even work on her at that point ?

Luckily, Rachel was occupied with small-talk with her driver; she was probably the last person to talk to about having to deal with cheating and divorce drama in the family, as well as how family is good support system...but it seemed cathartic for him.

----

The ride pulled to a stop at a high rise in Malibu, where she was greeted by four security guards. One of which opened her door, while the other paid off the driver.

"Vivian Manning ?" A guard asks.

"How'd you guess ?" Rachel asks as she steps out of the back door.

"It's on the top of the guest list. We're here to escort you."

As the limo drives off, said guard points up the building. Coming from the windows on the first four floors. And with the loud and muffled music within, Rachel quickly realized this was a party.

"Boss man's penthouse is the top three floors. He's waiting for you upstairs." The guard explains "You will call him Miles Winters when you see him. Understand, Miss Manning ?"

That was all the cue Rachel needs to know that they know.

"Yes," Rachel nods "Of course."

The four led her into the building, through the main lobby, towards and into the elevator.

Up they went and Rachel felt time still.

She didn't know what to make of this really. She was meeting Mordred - that Mordred - and knew little of what to expect.

All she knew was she was picked for a purpose. What that purpose is must be something dramatic if the cults history was any indication.

She has heard how they take "wronged women" and turned them into monsters. And if the narrative she was told is true, she was picked to be a killer.

Thing is despite everything, Rachel never seriously considered herself a killer. Or at least not a murderer.  She could see herself getting into a fight, maybe taking a life in her own defense and that of someone else.

These fangs of hers were made for chomping, but she is not one who would chomp on the life of the innocent and drain said life from their bodies.

When they reached the third floor down, Rachel was immediately hit by flashes of red, green, blue and purple.

Rachel flinched a the immediate flashes. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to a sight.

You see one pent house, you see them all really.

Same goes for rave clubs and strip clubs. Whatever Mordred was like in this day and age, he sure knew the party/playboy atmosphere for sunny California. She just didn't expect he would go all out on the image.

A guard takes Rachel by the shoulder and says "His eyes are on you, you know."

"What ?" She asks back.

"Mr. Winter." He says "He's waiting for you upstairs."

"You're not gonna escort me ?"

"Sorry Princess, someone's gotta stop the drinks from being spiked." The Guard points to a door on the far side of the floor "Just follow the stairs. Top floor."

"Thanks," Rachel nods as she made her way through the crowd.

It felt and looked typical rave or strip party in La-La Land – loud music, booze, drugs and lap dances, people going to other rooms to take these "dances" further. The speakers shook through the walls and floor with the beat of Eminem and Nate Dogg's Shake That (Ass For Me).

The party was in full swing, and if some of the looks Rachel got as she made were any indication, some knew she wasn't human anymore.

Step by step, Rachel refused any drinks offered to her by the men in here. Women too. She had to keep a clear head. Rachel nodded at some of the guests who wave at her as she combed the crowd.

One song ends, and the other starts with Beautiful Dangerous by Slash ft. Fergie.

Despite refusing any drinks, Rachel found herself getting engrossed in the atmosphere.

Normally, Rachel was like a force of nature at these things. Any strip club she visited, she would get a lap dance with no less than three strippers before leaving. House parties, she'll drink you under the table just to show off her lung capacity. At a rave, any encounter was a dance off, even if it's with someone working the bars.

As of now, something was off for her. Other than a preppy smile and sharp swing of her hips, shaw-shaying with each step.

Making her way to the stair well, the second floor up from this party was a bit of a whiplash. The music was faded, just barley a muffled beat. The hallway was dark other than the lights in each room.

In these rooms, it looked they where shooting porn. Six bedrooms and a bathroom, and not a single closed door. Rachel took in the sights as she passed each door, and it brought this feeling of adrenaline running through her head. Rachel would give a nod, a thumbs up, or a polite "No thank you" when someone asked if she'd like to join.

She passed a room with two guys copulating with one girl at the same time; said girl looked more into it than the guys. Next room she passed had two girls performing oral sex on five different hunks, one seeming to be new to this and needing tips from her partner.

Room number three had two guys taking turns on eachother, while a third was waiting for his turn. The room after that had an orgy of eight women an a sign beside it reading "No Toys or Boys Allowed".

Room number four had two women having sex while a group of men and women cheer them on, making suggestions of what to do to eachother. Room number five had a hyper sexualized version of the "Spin the Bottle" between a group of college aged male and female players; the bottle landed with a young man about to preform oral sex on another.

Next was the bathroom...she doesn't want to THINK about what was happening in there. Some people just have their limits.

The last room was of a threesome between three woman, one in her early twenties an the other two in their late thirties, by all appearances.

As she walked past the last doorway in the hall, she shuddered a little. That feeling she had in the hall, that "musical energy" (for lack of better words), simply faded. It was like waking up from a summer day, and into a winter one. It was like she walked through a fresh crime scene, and brought with her a feeling of rot in her stomach.

If that was the high, this was the hangover.

It brought back memories of when she watched Requiem For a Dream when she was a kid; you'd think that she'd be scared out of drugs and open sex after that.

And yet here she is.

----

The last floor was another standard penthouse. Not alive or buzzing like the party three floors down. Most she could say of it was there was more windows than walls.

There was one light on, a blue one at that, and that was outside the building itself and on a balcony. There was a single figure, sitting at a table on said balcony, looking over it's shoulder and waving her over.

Rachel took a deep breath "Here goes nothing, dollface."

Rachel made her way to the balcony, noting the glass door was open, and stared down the man looking over the city, paying her nothing but a nod.

The man looked to be twenty nine. He was pale for certain, and the light seemed to make his skin shine.

He had a well built frame, broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hip. The way he had his feet up on the table shown he was about as tall as Frank or Mark. He was certainly attractive, could pass for a male model. His face certainly looked liked he was on a magazine cover.

In this light, his hair color was indistinguishable, but Rachel guessed he was a dirty blonde or a light brunette. It was a short hair cut, with a cowlick on the top.

He wore a set of shades and appeared to have a 5'O Clock shadow growing in. He had this calm and collected smile, and wore a set of leather boots, dark jeans, and a dark red leather bomber jacket.

As he finishes up a bottle of whiskey, he regards Rachel and gestures her to take a seat in a chair opposite of him. As Rachel did so, he spoke; he had a light accent, she couldn't tell if it was British or Scottish.

"Helluva view, isn't it ?"

"I guess," Rachel nods "Are you him ?"

"I am a him, yes." He answers her "Despite some...recent depictions."

"But are you...Mordred ?" Rachel ask cautiously.

He turns to her with a raised eyebrow and takes off his glasses. His green eyes seemed to glow a sharp contrast with the blue light "Bold of you to be throwing my name around like that...Rachel Amber."

"I mean", Rachel shrugs "If no one else is here, I suppose we could go by real names tonight."

"Fair enough," Mordred chuckles, taking the base of his bottle, tossing it up in the air and catching it "I see you've been playing my game, Miss Amber."

"What game ?" Rachel asks.

"Chameleon," Mordred answers "Always being someone else to someone else. Been following your story and all, eventually taking time to keep a personal eye on you."

"You were watching me," Rachel says "How much did you see ?"

"Well, let me tell you this," Mordred starts "You met me twice when we dropped you into LA; but you may not recognize me, but we also crossed paths in recent weeks. And as of late, thanks to that little trip to Mexico City, Heart Attack and Let It Go was stuck in my head for weeks."

Rachel didn't know how to react to this, so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

"Sorry about that," Rachel says meekly "Were you in Arcadia Bay as well ?"

"Not since '97. I haven't even set foot in Oregon in about a year. As for that game of Chameleon," Mordred replies "You've been playing that game for so long, and yet only recently, have you been playing it right."

"And you want to teach me."

"Let us say, lead by example." Mordred replies "When the time comes, it is I who shows Mother's newest champions what to do when the time comes."

When the time comes. Rachel was afraid that it was going to come to this.

"You see," Rachel says "I don't think your mother picked correctly when she picked me...I don't have what it takes."

"Care to explain ?"

"I've been doing some looking into your religion. I keep seeing all this apocalypse stuff here and there and-" Rachel was at a loss for words as she scrambled to find them "That's not me. Not who I really am."

"Isn't it really ?" Mordred asks with a cheeky grin "You think we're just going to wipe out the world ?"

"What would you call it ?"

"Clearing out the filth." Mordred says as he gets up from he seat and walks to the edge of the balcony, empty bottle in hand "You see the filth of this world, the empires and governments as you know it. How many times has a country gone to war over a mineral ? How a King let his reign end with a failed marriage ?"

Mordred tosses the bottle of the balcony before turning back to Rachel.

"How many injustices does the world have to suffer before bringing an end to it all ?"

"By killing people ? Look," Rachel says getting up from her seat "I read Animal Farm in Freshman year, I know where this kind of revolution leads too."

"What would you prefer ? That those who harm you and the system that protects them go unchallenged ?" Mordred asks, taking a phone out of his pocket and looking up a news article "I would think you of all people would wish for true justice."

He hands Rachel his phone, showing yet another article about James Amber and what his family lost and demonizing the people who tried to help her. As usual, Jefferson, Prescott - the actual people who killed her - was something more trivial when it came to what happened to Rachel.

"We can help with that, y'know." Mordred remarks "We can pull a few strings bring Mark Jefferson to you...Prescott Jr ? That's a little complicated. Senior ? Missing and unaccounted for. I've seen enough of you to know you don't fancy yourself a killer, but even you may feel the desire for revenge."

Rachel looks away from the article, which Mordred notes.

"Your eyes speak a lot for you, Miss Amber. But I need to hear your words." Mordred says as he flips through the names "What about him ?"

Rachel looks back to see a picture of James with a fourteen year old her.

Rachel just closed her eyes and dwelled in thought as Mordred continues to speak.

"For what it's worth, I am not trying to start a war...if I could help it. These days, we aim to be a little more insidious. We can…bring him to you. We know of how he wronged you."

Wronged her ?

It was James keeping secrets that pushed her away; it was his own lies that being parroted for the media narrative. The Amber's were seen as an inversion of the Prescott's (at least those that don't bend over backwards to defend Nathan), so of course the perfect missing rich girl, would contrast the poor, troubled mentally ill rich boy.

Once again Mordred speaks. "He hurt you. Not like Jefferson did, but still, he tried to...hurt your birth mother."

Rachel looks up at Mordred as he says this.

"Like, I have been there before...my father tried to kill both my birth and adopted mother. I've walked a mile in your shoes so I can simply say-" Mordred stops, glancing up at the sky briefly to think of what to say "That's rough buddy."

"Your mother, the Queen." Rachel says in a half effort to distract from the subject.

"The Blood Queen raised me, brought me up where I would have died. Had it not been for her, I would not be the man I am today." He says plainly "My birth mother...slain by the son of the man who raped her own mother. I have known for sometime, that she died so that I would live in her place."

As Mordred says this, he looks like he's walking deep in his own thought's and memories, which allow Rachel to explore her own.

She thinks back to the picture, specifically the trip they were on. She was twelve and her family wanted to take a trip across Canada. Or at least a couple of provinces; Rachel particularly remembers when they visited the Anne Of Green Gables house on Prince Edward Island, and Fairview Lawn Cemetery in Nova Scotia.

The latter trip is where the picture was taken; specifically, they were to join in a Titanic tour, and they took a picture at the grave of James' great grandfather - a man who was on the fateful voyage, and the only one in his family who didn't make it.

Throughout that trip, a younger Rachel would make unfunny jokes about her stepmothers name being Rose. Rose laughed, but Rachel knew she was just being a mom.

Honestly, Rachel thought back to how much of a daddy's girl she was. He was the one who encouraged her dreams of being a model as a kid, being an actress or photographer. But that changed years ago for Rachel. She probably wouldn't be as resentful if her father was more honest to her; she isn't exactly an honest person herself.

It's the lengths he went to - what he tried to do to Sera - That is what pushed Rachel away.

All Chloe did was tell her the truth. And it was James levels of dishonesty that made Rachel question everything in retrospect; just how much of it was real. The fact that James made her own death more about him and what he wanted Rachel to be all but solidified this to her.

Maybe this was his way of getting back at those who stole his perfect daughter ? That's all her death was to him.

Rachel has no such thoughts on Rose though. Whenever she thought back to or read up on Rose, she seemed passive in comparison to her father.

Rose, despite not being her blood mother, felt more real to her than James after the fact. Rose was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, drive a car, tie her shoes. She was there for every sick day and nightmare when he was little. Every scrapped knee and flu shot.

It was these moments Rose brought up on the rare occasion she spoke out about Rachel. It honestly tore Rachel a little more than it did with her father.

Rachel hears a fake cough and turns her attention to an expectant looking Mordred.

"One word, and one call is all it takes, Miss Amber." He says calmly.

Rachel didn't notice until now how watery her eyes were. She wipes them quickly before handing back the phone.

"I'm sorry, but...no." Rachel shakes her head "No, I can't put my step mom through that. Not after all that."

"Suit yourself," Mordred nods "But if you prefer we can talk business."

"Business ?"

"For when fun time is over!" Mordred answers with a bit of enthusiasm "You didn't think my family took you into the fold without out of the goodness of our hearts did you. We can show you your place in this family, and how you can help us make the world a better one. Be as a pawn or player."

"That doesn't sound like you're giving me a choice."

"Think of life like," Mordred stops to think of the right word "A video game. Are you a gamer, Miss Amber ?"

Rachel crosses her arms "I am more impartial to visual novels, but go on."

"You've got the players and the player characters." Mordred raises his left hand to empathize his point "Some people, they are pawns in the game of life. They can only move from one goalposts to the other with the guiding hand of a higher power. That is how the pawn wins the game."

Mordred raises his right hand to further empathize.

"Then you've got the player, the one who pushes their hero or protagonist on to the end of the game; some cases make the hard choices for them."

Mordred gestures to the penthouse inside.

"I do so for my businesses. And playboy Miles Winter ? He likes to take his work home as you can see."

Mordred gestures Rachel to follow him inside and she does so.

The lights flicker on when they reach a coffee table in his living room, Mordred has Rachel take a seat. Rachel does so, sitting on the couch while Mordred goes through a nearby shelf.

"When you say you take work home with you-" Rachel starts.

"Not me. Not Mordred." He interrupts her "To them I am Miles Winter; playboy on the streets, player on the sheets." he says as he hands Rachel letters to read "I have four strip clubs in this state alone and all kinds of connections in the porn industry."

"Really ? I would not have guessed." Rachel replies with a blunt sardonic tone, thinking about the "activities" going on downstairs.

"Sex sells, Rachel Amber." He replies "So long as it's under studio contracts and no one sleeps around in my clubs, I am as good as gold. Keeps the money in Mr. Winter's pocket."

Mordred passes her papers with a red mark across their tops.

"Gerald Wilfred," Rachel says, reading the name on them.

"Reported drug boss, but the law hasn't found anything of him. No concrete addresses, no pictures, no witnesses willing go talk. Nothing. And a player of Chameleon, much the same way Rachel Amber and Vivian Manning are."

"He's you." Rachel nods, quickly picking up on what he's saying.

"You catch on fast kid."

"I mean, you all but told me yourself." Rachel says with a snark and a shrug.

"Yet there is still a lot to learn." Mordred says with a smirk "I rarely make public appearances, you know. A lot of the time, I rarely meet my employees face to face. And when I do, I try to make sure they don't know it's me. Email here, phone call there. So long as two people who know my face don't meet, I'm in the clear. It was easier twenty or so years ago, before social media picked up..."

"And your businesses ? They overlap, do they ?" Rachel inquires before she connects the dots.

"My ladies and my gentlemen, work more than for money. In fact they are willing to give their hard earned money for products grown on Gerald Wilfred's farms." He answers her.

"You mean to say you're-" Rachel starts before she's interrupted.

"A salesman and employer who provides jobs, products and services for those who need it and have no other opportunities." Mordred says in an insistent tone, before he calms down "Look, whatever you may think of me, everyone from the lowest dealer to the highest escort have a place in the empire to come. They are the bricks, we are the builders. I must ask, of one who is as...active as you, what is your opinion on the sex industry ?"

Rachel sighs, and takes a moment to think before she answers "First and foremost, I believe what a person does with their bodies is up to them. Be it a sex worker or exotic dancer. As long as it's their choice, what am I to say ?"

"Exactly," Mordred says with another smile "Although there are instances where we need to guide their choices. For without us, they are lost." He looks over Rachel's face, sensing her uncertainty as she looks away "If it made things easier, why not I treat you tomorrow ? I'll give you a tour of our barn, our "pen" in Desert Shores. Give you a chance to look at the dark side and think things over. Perhaps you'll find something that tickles your fancy ?"

"What, do I have a choice ?" Rachel asks.

"Not really no." Mordred answers "Tell you what, I'll let you sleep on it." He points down a hallway "My guest room is the second door on the right. Me ? I got business elsewhere tonight."

"Well," Rachel pauses "Looks like I got more to gain than to lose do I ?" She adds with a cheeky smile like she couldn't believe this was happening.

To be fair, if you met an Arthurian Knight - who offered you a place to sleep for the night - running a pornography studio - ran an orgy under his residence - offered to show you where he works - and spent the next evening showing off a 2004 Honda Ridgeline like it was a prize horse...you'd have a hard time believing your situation too, wouldn't you ?

-----

June 23rd, 2014

Rachel was in a considerably better mood, but uneasy.

Mordred shed his "Miles Winter" persona, in favor of "Gerald Wilfred"; a different, more "country" style of shades, a set of blue jeans, work-boots, and a dark grey hoodie that made him look bulkier than he actually was.

It brought Rachel's thoughts back to Frank - honestly them hitting the row like this brought back this time she and Frank went on a camping trip together.

----

It was June 2012, two years nearly to the day.

Chloe left Arcadia Bay to attend her grandmas birthday. It was on the Price side of the family, and supposed go be a family affair, which is why Rachel couldn't come with, as Chloe says; by all accounts Joyce and David were an awkward presence to say the least.

Rachel and Frank ended up taking a trip of their own, to this park out of the county. It was a camping and hicking trip, and on their trip Rachel hoped she would see something big and wild.

Be careful what you wish for, as some would say.

Frank was out picking up firewood, and Rachel went about taking nature photos, when she spotted two bear cubs play wrestling in a clearing.

It was such a sight that Rachel couldn't resist taking a pic. She wasn't satisficed with the first two, and cautiously made her way toward the clearing.

She then heard a bellow behind her.

Rachel turns to see Mama Bear twenty yards away, with Rachel standing between the mother and her cubs.

Rachel remembers the "Ahfffuck!" that slipped out of her mouth.

She tires circling put of the bears way, but it made two bluff charges at the direction she stepped.

The second one made Rachel trip onto the forest floor, and unfortunately her camera ended up nearing the mother.

"At least it's not raining," Rachel thought in a gallows humor sort of way. This was at the back of her mind; what was in the front of her mind, and out of her mouth wasn't coherent enough to put into words but roughly translated to "FRANK! BEAR!! HELP!!!"

The mother bear reared up onto her hind legs and let out a roar that made all but one raven fly from the trees.

Rachel's mind was scrambling. She tried to remember what James taught her in her girl scout days about what to do in a bear attack. But that wasn't what kept her attention; her attention was squarely on the bear going down on all fours and making her way towards her.

Rachel tries to crawl backwards and turned her head to see the cubs scrambling their way up a tree.

That is when she hear the gunshot, echoing around the area.

The mother bear turns around, and Rachel sees Frank shouting and shooting his handgun into the sky above her.

Rachel looked back to see the cubs, and shouts to Frank while the bear has her attention on the man, and his yapping little dog.

"Frank! Don't! The cubs!" She shouts to him again.

Frank looks up to see the little ones in the tree, and starts backing away, using one had to hold Pompidou by the collar.

"Get back to the RV," Frank shouts to Rachel "Now!"

Rachel scrambles again to find her feet, panicking as Mama Bear had her eyes off her. She is quick to pick up the camera, but time seemed to slow when she passed the bear herself.

Once Rachel reached Frank, the mother bear was still standing her ground, and makes another bluff charge, while the two ran back to the RV. Frank stayed behind a few more seconds before catching up to Rachel, still holding Pompidou's collar.

By the time they reached the RV, it seemed Mama wasn't chasing them, but better safe than sorry.

Once they where in, they pull the RV out of their makeshift campsite - Frank was loudly lecturing Rachel, asking what she was thinking, while trying to calm Pompidou down.

Rachel ? She was calming herself with a hastily made joint, still on the edge of tears.

"Rachel? Rachel!" Frank says to get her attention "What the Hell where you thinking ?! You've could have been-" Frank stops himself to banish the thought.

"I'm okay! Okay ?" Rachel snaps back, as Pompidou climbed back onto her lap.

"No! It's not okay!" Frank says "Even if no one heard my shots, sooner or later someone's going to find the casings! My gun's registered in my name, Rachel! Shooting in a park ? People are going to go looking for me, track me down in Arcadia Bay, ask what the hell I'm doing out there."

"Just say you where with your girl and she was attacked by a bear. You don't have to say who..." Rachel says, hugging Pompidou close to her body.

"I'm sorry," Frank breathes out "Its just- if I lost you back there ? That would be on me."

"No, it wouldn't." Rachel says.

"I can read the headlines already. A local drug pusher takes the rich daughter of the district attorney out to the woods, probably to do who knows what to her, and gets her eaten by a bear!" Frank says "Oh, and said drug dealer worked for Damon Merrick, you know the guy who stabbed you ?"

Rachel begins taking calm and deep breaths, letting her eyes water "I'm sorry, okay ?"

Frank sighs "No. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you."

"But Frank," Rachel starts "I was the one who wanted to go, remember ?"

Frank laughs pretty humorlessly "I shouldn't make plans with you while blacked out. What can I say, Rachel ? You can be a bad influence on me."

"I have that effect on people." Rachel shrugs, before leaning in to kiss Frank on the temple. She then holds her hand up to offer her joint.

"I'm driving." Frank refuses.

"See ? Not such a bad influence now, am I ?" Rachel teases, ruffling Frank's head like he was a little brother and she was the big sister.

"Just give me and hour or so to cool off, okay ?" Frank sighs with a humorless smirk.

Rachel nods and heads to the RV's bed to rest and relax. Pompidou following after her.

That night, she and Frank set up their camp a little closer to home.

They parked sea side and spent the evening looking at the stars, talking about the constellations.

The Big and Little Dipper where easy enough to find; and Rachel mused out loud, how those constellations were once known as bears. Specifically, the Big Bear (Mama, Rachel used to call it) or Little Bear (Cub, Rachel used to call it).

----

Rachel was pulled from memory lane when Mordred - or "Wilfred" as she'll be referring to him - pulled his truck to a halt.

"Where are we ?" Rachel asks, causing Wilfred to turn his head, eyeing her in genuine shock.

"Wait,  you were asleep? While I was telling you of my history ?" Wilfred asks mystified "I thought you were in stunned silence when I got to my time in the Napoleonic Wars!" He says with an exasperated sigh "Now that was what I call a nostalgia trip."

Rachel looks out the window to see she's somewhere in the country side. Ventura County, she later learns. And they certainly where not alone.

There was at least thirty two parked vehicles.

The building was once either a sawmill or slaughter house, but has since turned into something else entirely. There was lights on the building and a dozen or so people walking in out or around - from within Living Colour's Cult of Personality can be heard blaring on speakers.

"Okay, whatever you do, stay away from the cages." Wilfred explains.

Rachel nods as she and Wilfred step out of the Honda and make their way though the clubs.

The interior was nothing spectacular. If you've seen Fight Club, or played the first two Def Jam games, you'd know what to expect.

There was cages where men, women and even the odd dog was thrown in, betters passing money over to Wilfred's employees, even deadpools writing on a massive chalkboard. Some comedian even drew the Deadpool character on the board as well.

In the first fight alone, Rachel witnessed one woman beat another's face in with a hammer, before both where forcefully pulled from the cages. They where taken into a room dubbed "med ward".

The subsequent fights got worse from there.

Wilfred places a hand on Rachel's shoulder and leads her unseen towards a metal stairway. The stairs here locked by a caged and chain, and guarded by a bouncer who regards Wilfred with a nod before letting them through.

Wilfred leads Rachel to a booth reading "Employees and VIP's Only: Get Lost or Get Buried".

Wilfred has Rachel take a seat in the booth to watch the fights from a higher view.

"What is this place ?" Rachel asks.

"A fight club; haven't you noticed ?" Wilfred replies, handing Rachel a drink.

"I can see that," Rachel rolls her eyes "But what's it called ?"

"I wanted to call it Herot," Wilfred answers "I would if these people could appreciate the significance. To them, it's just The Stag House. Either way it puts money in my pocket." He gets up from his seat as says this, "Speaking of, I'll be collecting tonight's earnings. You enjoy the show."

With that, Wilfred steps out of the booth.

Rachel, however, couldn't enjoy the show. Not for a lack of trying. She's the kind who doesn't mind watching violence in movies, TV or games.

This ? Was all to real for her.

In the past hour and a half she has seen four men, three women and four dogs thrown into the ring.

The crowds where jeering and cheering as the opponents brutally beat, bite or choke eachother. Mercy certainly wasn't in their vocabulary. Some spectators went as far as to pull a person or dog who got to close to the "ring", and maim the fighters. Others would throw in blunt or sharp instruments into the cage. No doubt trying to even the odds on their bets.

At the back of Rachel's mind she had this feeling niggling in the back of her head. That nagging voice telling her how she likes the bloodshed more than she should; that there is a sense of power in breaking ones body and spirit, and perhaps she should give it a try herself.

Rachel doesn't like when these thoughts linger in her head. It's almost always convinces her they are right.

It really makes Rachel think of Frank...specifically the kind of past Frank would talk about to her. How Damon had a club of his own for these kind of things.

Pompidou was almost one such victim of the ring, had it not been for Frank being a very persuasive friend. Rachel remembers a conversation she had with Frank when they drove home from a movie date.

It was back in August 10th of 2012.

They pulled a stop for a "smoke break" just out of town to look at the sunset. The two sat on the hood of Rachel's truck.

Or Chloe's truck that Rachel borrowed off of her.

Rachel didn't find the sunset particularly spectacular. You see one, you see them all really.

Maybe it was the buzz she was feeling that made her feel more relaxed. Their talk took a turn when Danzig's "Thirteen" suddenly came on the radio, and Frank recognized it as Damon's favorite song.

"You know, I didn't think he was that bad of a guy at first," Frank says, and Rachel suddenly realizes that they where talking about Damon and how Frank got his hands on Pompidou in the first place.

"Really ?" Rachel remarks "He struck me as a bit of a cartoony bad guy."

"I'm not trying to make him seem like anything he wasn't." Frank answers "I just used to think there was more to him than what was actually there, you know ?"

Frank sighs before continuing.

"He gave me, Pompidou you know. Wanted him to be one of his dogs. Bigger ones kept eating all his food, and Pompidou wasn't growing, so Damon wanted him put down. Gave him to me to do the job."

"That doesn't sound like he was being generous." Rachel shrugs.

"I thought so too. I wanted to give him to a home myself, but no shelter would take him. He was malnourished and the shelters were full, so the little scamp got settled with me." Frank says with another inhale of his joint "I was going to hide him from Damon, but when he shown up at my trailer and saw a six week old pup sleeping running out the RV, he says to me - "Jeez, Frank looks like he's grown on you. Tell you what, you take him off my hands. Consider it this months payment!" - Next few days, it's all gifts from Damon; toys, dog food, you name it."

"I see," Rachel says "When was this again ?"

"About a week before the fire." Frank answers "I know what you're thinking; one week, he's like my best friend, the next, I'm beating his head in while he's trying to stab me. Makes you think, just how much of my friend was real."

"I know the feeling." Rachel starts "I feel the same about my dad."

Frank freezes when he hears that "Rachel, look- about your mom."

"You saved her life Frank. And you saved Chloe too-"

"Rach, I know what you're saying." Frank starts "It just doesn't work that way."

"But we have the mone-"

"No, you have the money." Frank says "I can't always have you buying off Chloe's debts. Eventually you're going to go broke."

"But it's Chloe's money too!" Rachel pipes up, before speaking more timidly "We went out of town for Chloe's birthday a few weeks back. I won't bore you the details, but we were able to raise 3200$ together." Rachel explains. One of the boring details was getting Chloe to her ovum's to an out of town clinic.

"And you two hold out on me because...?" Frank asks suspiciously.

"You know...for when we go for go for good." Rachel says, somewhat timidly but also knowing it would be a difficult subject for Frank to change to the matter at hand.

"And you can get Chloe's half ?"

"I can talk to her," Rachel says, leaving out the bit that she got Chloe to blow four hundred of her own share in their subsequent party adventures "What does 1200$ cover ?"

"May, June, and July." Frank says "That gives her another month to pay off. I was lenient for a while given her parents anniversary and dad's birthday. I can only go soft for so long."

"Just let me talk to her," Rachel says "I can be very persuasive...but let's not think about that now."

And so started Rachel's habit of taking Chloe's share of the little nest egg they started to pacify Frank.

It was dirty business, and in retrospect being a dirty friend, but as Rachel's grandfather once said "Miners gotta get their hands dirty, till they strike gold."

----

"How'd you enjoy the show ?" Morded/Wilfred's voice asks as he steps back into the booth.

Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hand on the back of her neck.

"I-I-" Rachel started to stutter as she looked up at Wilfred. Wilfred notices as Rachel wiped her eyes.

"Was still in dreamland, were you ?" Wilfred asks counting tonight's earnings of 45,000$.

"More like memory lane." Rachel answers truthfully.

"What got you nostalgic ?" Wilfred asks looking around "Anything in particular ?"

Rachel looks away, before taking out her phone "I was just thinking about what I left back home."

Wilfred sighs with a nod before taking his seat across from Rachel.

"You miss your friend do you ?" Wilfred puts a hand on her shoulder "We've both been looking into your story for a while know. No doubt it's bringing back something that shouldn't be there."

Rachel actually feels her eyes water at how calm and understanding he's sounding.

"They're talking about her, you know ? And right about now, there's nothing I wouldn't give to reach out and-" Rachel starts before Wilfred interrupts her.

"And reveal to the world that you are not actually dead ? That would shoot the narrative of Arcadia Bay's Lost Princess in the foot. Wouldn't that be a kick to the crotch ?" He says with a snicker "A temptation to strong for a girl who thought she was stronger. There too are times where I wish I could go back to a more simple time. Before I got to where I am, but as far as I can tell, time travel isn't a gift my mother could give."

"I just want them to stop." Rachel says with a sad sigh "They might as well just parade my corpse around. They tell stories about a version of me that didn't exist. And when the people who actually cared tried to speak-"

Wilfred interrupts her again "You're talking about your father's favorite scapegoats."

Rachel nods weakly.

"I see; they can't blame the lonely rich boy. He's a victim of mental illness and therefore has no agency. The teacher ? Well, let's just say I have seen the Bundy trials. But the girl on the wrong side of the tracks ? Easiest target in the world."

As Wilfred says this, he pauses to let Rachel soak this information in.

"Moralists, Rachel. Mourning an imaginary princess and hunting an imaginary witch." Wilfred says "It's all bullshit to pat themselves on the back. Thank you, God, that I am not like other people; extortioners, unjust, adulterers or even like this Tax Collector. "

Wilfred takes Rachel by the chin, directing her to look out the booth "See those people in this crowd ?"

Rachel nods.

"I can guarantee you those exact people are the kind of people you'd see in this crowd. The reason they moralize, Miss Amber is to distract themselves."

Wilfred explains, all but back to being Mordred at this point.

"That it is in fact, to hurt each other is base human nature. They fight amongst each other. Kill, rape attack to their hearts content. That is why I run these businesses Miss Amber, to show people what they really are. We bring down the system that breeds it, using it's own weaknesses. And yet they still look for an adulteress to cast stones at. I can guarantee you, hand wringers and pearl clutchers, you'd be hard pressed to find one not hiding a horrid porn history, or worse..."

Wilfred shudders on this bit.

"Sonic fans."

Despite herself, Rachel found herself laughing “What's wrong with them ?”

"If you don't know now, I'll spare your innocence." He says with a snarky smile, before deflating "But trust me, I'll give you a list of names to avoid looking up. There's Alice in the Rabbit Hole, and then there is Dante in the Inferno."

"I'll keep that in mind." Rachel laughs again before looking back at the crowd.

She sees three people walking out of a room with the sign "Med Ward". It wasn't an interesting sight in on itself, but it was the fact these where the same people who where left bloody and broken to the point of near death. When they where dragged into that room by Wilfred's employees, Rachel figured they where putting them out of their misery.

And yet when they come out from the room they are healthy as a horse, and off to collect a set of bills she later learned was "insurance" as Wilfred called it.

"Hey, so...what's up with that ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh that ?" Wilfred remarks "I told you we'd be going to one of my farms. Now that I collected tonight's pay, I guess sooner is better than later."

Wilfred takes out a few more wads and hands them to Rachel.

"How good at you at counting and dividing ?" He asks.

Rachel fakes a humorous snort and rolls her eyes "Please, that's what I was taught in pre school."

"Then you can multi task. Follow me." Wilfred leads Rachel out the booth and down the stairs.

As they make their way to Wilfred's Honda, Rachel finally asks "What am I supposed to be counting ?"

"Employees keep the place otherwise clean and otherwise safe. They get twenty five present in total and we split it from there. We pay them monthly to build up their earnings. Fighters get forty percent of their own winnings, and an additional fifteen if they need insurance. They take a dive after betting against themselves ? They get a trip to the hospital, out of their own pockets." Wilfred explains "They get their pay every two weeks."

Settling into the Honda, Wilfred turns on the ignition before looking to Rachel as she takes her seat.

"But you want to see where the real magic happens."

-----

Hours later, somewhere in the AM hours, the Honda pulls into a farmland on the outskirts of Desert Shores.

The place was a ranch of sorts, a fairly large spot of land covering forty acres.

Place was what one would expect, with a large barn, one large house, and six trailers in the fields.

What stood out to Rachel was the presence of armed guards and a metal gate and fence surrounding the territory.

One such guard looks cautiously as Wilfred pulls his truck to the gate.

What the guard says genuinely confuses Rachel; "Don't Come Around Tonight..." he says expectantly.

Calm and collected, Wilfred answers him "Oh It's Bound To Take Your Life; There's A Bad Moon On The Rise."

Wilfred takes off his shades and looks to the Guard with a smile.  Rachel notices how the bright green in Wilfred's eyes seem to flicker.

"Hey there, Benson. How's your sister ?" Wilfred says.

"Jessie, she's uh..." The guard, Benson starts to stutter.

"Out of the hospital ? Got that broken leg of hers paid off ?" Wilfred says with a boyish, toothy smile.

Benson stares, mouth agape and almost paralyzed in appearance. Wilfred chuckles before he speaks again.

"Look man, if you needed a raise, you just had to ask. Don't need you sneaking your hands in the cookie jar."
Wilfred starts his truck up, and prepares to drive through the now open gate.

"Good evening, Benson." Wilfred says, waving as he passes.

"Does he know what we are ?" Rachel asks, looking over her shoulder as the gate clothes.

"My employees ? Quite a few of them know what I am, but few know my true name." Wilfred explains as they pull into a drive way.

Rachel and Wilfred step out to see a pair of Rottweiler's, Siberian Husky's and a Pit Bull, going about their business or lying about. Guard dogs no doubt, but they look away from Wilfred's very gaze. On the farmhouse porch sits six men, sharing smokes and drinks, stopping to regard their boss as he walks up to them.

"This way, madam." Wilfred says as he leads Rachel to the porch.

"Hey boss," a particularly large man with a beard asks "Whose the new meat ?"

"There's a right way to ask a question Joe," Wilfred replies "And I think you would do yourself a solid to be less euphemistic regarding my new business partners."
"Of course," The big guy, Joe says, averting his gaze from Wilfred.

Wilfred turns back to Rachel "This is it; where the magic happens, my own little Wonka Factory. Why don't you introduce yourself ?"

Rachel takes a few seconds to think of a new name "Scarlet Rivers."

The six men greet her with variations of "Hello Scarlet" or "Hey Miss Rivers." As Wilfred leads Rachel by the hand into the farmhouse.

"Factory's in the basement. Showers are upstairs, because you're going to need them for what you're about to see.

As he leads her down the hall, Rachel quickly notices and gets annoyed by the tune he's humming.

"Come with me and you'll be," Wilfred starts to sing in a whimsical tone of voice "In a world of pure imagination..."

"Don't." Rachel says with a stern annoyance.

"You're no fun." Wilfred remarks.

When they reach the steps and door to the basement, Wilfred cracks open the door and a foul odor fills the air. A smell of fresh blood and decay.

It took Rachel back to when she first awoke as this.

Heading down the steps and to the large concrete room beneath them, Rachel gets a stronger whiff of decay that stars in the pit of her stomach and starts to boil in her chest.

"Buckets in the corner." Wilfred suggests "But I'd advise against contaminating the factory."

As cliché as it sounded the sight was like something from a shock value horror film. Like if Breaking Bad was made by Eli Roth.

Strapped to eight tables, was eight...people for the lack of a better word.

Pale, emaciated, almost decaying people stripped, spread out, while three different people in white jackets were working throughout the makeshift laboratory.

Their white jackets where smeared in a black and red liquid, as the "doctors" poked and prodded these victims in ways that are best left undescribed.

It brought to mind what little she felt Nathan and Jefferson do to her when she first left this world.

It was almost enough to make her vomit on the spot, but instead she ran up the stairs and to the nearest bathroom.

It was there she ignored to unkempt state of said room, as she regurgitates a mess into the commode.

She saw she didn't close the door as Wilfred - Mordred as he was now - stares her down.

"I warned you, it's retched work." He says, leaning to the side of the wall, lighting a cigarette "But someone's gotta do it."

"Wh- what the hell was that ? What were you doing to those people ?" Rachel asks, looking up and wiping her mouth off.

"People ? You may have heard about those high schoolers who disappeared in Indiana ?" Wilfred asks.

Rachel doesn't know how to respond, but just shakes her head "No."

"You know, those like minded to Nathan Prescott...Mark Jefferson ? Tried to emulate their style on three freshmen, if you catch my meaning." Mordred answers "Got a smack on their wrists, and when it caught the attention of one of our associates. We did the rest."

Mordred crouches down to Rachel and offers her a cigarette.

Rachel was still at a loss for words.

"I mean if you want to sympathize with potential rapists...it's not like they're exactly human anymore." Mordred explains, he sets Rachel up, and leads her to the houses dining room while she's still too mortified to speak of her own accord.

"It's here we create Black Water. Officially, it's a liquid narcotic. Unofficially, it's vampire venom mixed with the blood of the user. Knights of the Round used to use it all the time." Mordred says as he takes his seat at the amusingly circular shaped dining room table "It's how the myth of the Holy Grail started; guess you can say it's a family recipe of ours!" He finishes with a light chuckle.

Once again, Rachel is barley responsive, other than just staring at Mordred with wide eyes.

"It's not for everyone," Mordred shrugs "And there is set backs; being dangerously addictive and if overused, a rather frightening case of the munchies." He explains, leaving out the bit that said "munchies" entails cannibalism "But it can heal internal injuries, internal bleeding, broken bones; it's how we medicate our fighters at the Stag House."

"You...take their venom ?" Rachel says finally able to speak coherent words.

"That's what I just said. The Guard used to use it all the time." Mordred explains "Then there's our distribution of damphir blood."

"A-and what does that do ?" Rachel asks timidly.

"It's the reason you don't burn up in daylight like the others do..." Mordred gets up "Damphirs, as well as born vampire children, in general are a rarity, but despite what some may tell you, it's not impossible to create one...it just takes lots of work to do it."

Once again, Rachel says nothing.

Mordred continues; "Born vampires...damphirs. There's really not that much differenc. With vampires by birth, they are effectively normal until puberty. If they succumb to the beast within at any point in life, they become like you and no different than what you'd expect from a vampire. If they resist the beast, they live, grow old and die as humans. Albeit, with a longer than normal life span."

"And damphirs ?" Rachel asks, once again finding her voice.

"They stop aging at a certain adult stage in their life. Not as strong as vampires, in fact most of them aren't expected to life into adulthood." Mordred says "At least they can withstand the sun."

"So..." Rachel starts, trying to connect the dots "You mean to say you take the blood...of children ?"

Mordred scoffs at this "Oh, no! We get our damphir blood from a very close source I like to call; Yours Truly!" He says, gesturing to himself.

Mordred gets up from his seat and circles behind Rachel, putting his hands on her shoulders. Rachel doesn't know how to react, and just sits there, still hazed from her stunned silence.

"I will not deny what I am, Rachel Amber." Mordred says "I have fought in nine wars before the twentieth century. I have been involved in some of the great atrocities you read of in history. If my role in any of these where brought up in those history books, I would either be seen a monster or hero, depending on the conversation. I have played the chameleon game for so long, that much like you, I find myself unsure of who I really am. But like you I now have the guidance to show me the way; all this to bring down a system we both know is rotten. I would like to say I am not going to force you into this life, but the truth is...I have no more of a choice than you do; you're in our debt, bound to us by blood and we have to find you some place in the world to come. The first thing you learned when we got to you was your new place in this. I will give you time to think of your role in this, but for now ? I recommend you shower."

As Mordred says this, he hoists Rachel up to her feet, and with a simple nudge, pushes her towards the stairs.

After that, Rachel takes one step after another up the stairs, and down the hall, already undressing as she makes her way to the shower room.

----

June 24th, 2014

The next morning, Rachel was on the road again, still wearing the same clothes as the past two days.

When Rachel returns home, she was told she was given three days to think over her decision.

Over the car ride, she was lectured by Mordred.

"You may find our organization disagreeable, Miss Amber, but I can assure you, we have nothing but your best interests at heart." Mordred would say.

"There are other organizations that you will find very disagreeable. And they have nothing but your destruction in mind."

She was told of the Ascalon club - or as they go by "New Ascalon" - and their leader and founder, Lady Ashbury, or "Blackwood" as Mordred calls her.

"I know what you may think of me, but do you believe that I would be lesser company than a woman who slaughtered an actual orphanage of children ?" Mordred would ask her "The club she leads, only seek to continue the old system. And don't get me started on her champion..."

"Champion ?" Rachel would ask.

"Jonathan Reid," Mordred says with a notable grimace in his voice "The last known champion of Myrddin Wilt. In the past ninety six years, he has been a stake in our hearts. He killed many women my mother tried to save, and turned others against our cause."

"Can you tell me why that's a bad thing ?" Rachel asks, finding a little bit of her courage "Sounds to be about the same as your little club."

"Fair enough," Mordred shrugs "But it's best you forget morality when it comes to war; in recent years, Lady Blackwood and her club has taken to ruthless extremes against our cause; she had the lot of us killed, talked others into betrayal, even invaded the minds of our loyalists. In 2008, Reid came the closest to killing me than anyone else since my father. My sources inside the Guard tells me he disappeared from their custody months ago. We also found out they too have access to damphir blood, which usually doesn't bode well if you look at their family history in recent decades."

Rachel pause "Say I don't believe you. That you aren't a reliable narrator ? What makes you think they won't talk me into their cause ?"

"In World War II, Reid killed one of my mothers champions when she tried to save her ailing brother's life." Mordred says, being intentionally vague about the details "She was fourteen." He adds "What makes you so sure he won't do the same to you without a seconds hesitation ? Whatever you think of us, Rachel, we are trying to help people and fix the world. Is that not a dream you wish you could be part of ? Rather than be a part of Blackwood's club ? You may not trust our word, but our word is all you have."

As he finishes the lecture, Mordred turns in to drive through the Hollywood Hills, making his way to Rachel's address.

"Tell you what; I'll give you three days to think things over...or else I'll have to take to drastic measures." Mordred says, pulling in on Rachel home in the Hills "I really don't want to see something happen to another one of my mothers girls, and I'm sure you've seen the many ways you can better benefit for aligning with us."

Rachel hasn't been in the sun in nearly a year. Not with it causing her to blister.

She's been told it really depends on how much damphir blood you get in your system. Her usual spiked dosage was a bottle caps worth; just slowed her down in daylight hours. A pint will give you a day (which was currently in her system to "cool her down"), and two liters will give you a week if you drink it all at once.

When Rachel steps out of the jeep, and Mordred drives off signs friendly wave, she looks up to see the sun.

The more she look up at it, the more she realized she missed the natural light and warmth it gave her.

This compared to the "warmth" Mordred tried to give with his friendly attitude, ironically made Rachel shudder up her spine.

Rachel steps into her home and let's the last nights events and Mordred's lecture to her flurry through her head.

Rachel walks towards her bedroom and slops down onto her bed in an exhausted heap. After a few moments, she drifted off to sleep. ore of a force of habit she picked up over the past of few months, and a genuine tiredness from the night.

----

By the time Rachel woke up the sky was a red orange color.

She was jolted awake by a missed phone call from Steph.

Rachel was ghosting her calls all of last night and the night before, and was out of excuse's now that she was home.

Picking her phone up and dialing a return number, she mumbles a bit when she asks "Hey, Steph sorry to keep you waiting; was on a bit of a bender..."

"Hey Viv," Steph's voice answers. In the few phone calls they shared, Steph would call Rachel "Viv" as a sign that Cathy was with her.

"Is that about your show ?" Rachel asks "I didn't think you'd still be doing shows with your hand in the cast ?"

"It's not that," Steph says in an uncharacteristically timid and somber voice "I can't stay on the phone too long. Cath and I are going to be out of town..."

"Okay..." Rachel starts unsure of herself "And you want me to check the m-"

"No, nothing like that." Rachel could practically hear Steph shake her head insistently "Cathy and I are going to be gone for a while. She just wanted me to let you know..."

This made Rachel tense. Given what she seen/heard/learned of Cathy, she had some suspicions, but couldn't exactly connect the dots. But if her suspicions are confirmed....

Rachel practically felt her fangs start to bare as she grit her teeth at the thought.

"Where you going to go ?" Rachel asks.

"Cathy didn't say."

"How long will you be out of town ?" Rachel asks again.

"That's for Cathy to decide." Steph says in a practically monotone voice.

"Do you want me to come over ?" Rachel asks "You know, to lend a hand ?"

"No!" Steph says insistently "No, Viv. Just leave me and Cathy to it. I'll be fine. Don't worry. Please, don't worry."

"This is giving me the opposite effect, you know." Rachel says in her head before speaking out loud "Okay then...I'll see you around, Steph."

"Please Viv," Steph says "Don't worry yourself. I'll be fine...Cathy and I have to work some stuff out." She ends the call with a "Goodbye, Viv."

When the call hangs up, Rachel gets back up from her bed and paces around the house. She didn't notice she was huffing and puffing at first, and didn't know how long she was going at it until she eventually looked out the window on her balcony, and saw the sky was a dark blue.

Rachel didn't know what she was thinking or why, but she was probably letting her feelings get the better of her when she went to pick up her phone.
She was given Mordred's number - listed as "Miles Winter" and calls.

"Speaking," His voice answers.

"It's me..." Rachel sighs.

"I know who it is, I have caller ID you know." He replies "I take it you have made your decision ?"

"I still have three days, do I ?" Rachel asks.

"Indeed you do, but I doubt this is a social call. Let me advise you that it is in your best interests not to stab me in the back, if you expect me to scratch yours."

"I need a favor, we can talk what I owe you when the time comes." Rachel says "It's...it's for a friend."

"I see." He answers.

"Can you look into someone for me ? It's just I'm looking for dirty laundry; addresses, workplaces, associates. Closet skeletons. Things like that."

"I'll see what I can find." He answers "Does this person have a name ?"

"Cathy Mortimer."

----

January 30th, 2015, Los Angeles

Another day, another chipper jog for Rachel Amber, clad in a red sports bra and skin tight blue shorts.

Still dead to the world, she found two places in the new one to come.

When Mordred reached out to her, it took some talking, negotiations and deals, but they worked something out.

To some, she was Vivian Manning, an aspiring if struggling model for Hollywood but had a few friends in the industry. Some offered her jobs on TV or movies, and to keep up her façade, she turned them down. She was practically a party animal of La La Land, and with her weekly doses of damphir blood, she was free to make her marks day and night. Movie premieres, back stage passes, she was living (part) of her girlhood dreams. And all she needed was to cut or color her hair, and going in front of cameras was a none issue.

The most she could accept was being part of a music video that entailed her to wear a mask.

To others, she was Scarlet Rivers. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks, who was never seen any where near Los Angeles. Unlike Vivian, she never appeared in front of a camera, which made hair and makeup jobs a non issue. This is despite what part of her role she runs in Miles Winter's and Gerald Wilfred's respective businesses.

The official story with Wilfred was that he's in hiding. Some say, in the Florida Everglades, after very disagreeable people came to close to finding his address. Winter ? Missing and presumed dead when from a plane crash in the Pacific North West. This kept "Scarlet" in charge of finances for Wilfred's earnings from his Stag House; as part of their deal, she gets forty five percent of Wilfred's pay.

As with Miles disappearance, Scarlet was left as one of his de facto bosses in his porn studios and strip clubs, getting twenty five percent of the other bosses cuts. Most of that job entails Scarlet taking in the new girls - the recruiter if you will; sometimes she let's them join, sometimes she has to talk them out of their choices when she isn't too sure of them, etc.

And other times, Rachel had to make a few "rivals" disappear.

As of late, she is still yet to hear anything from Mordred, or even his mothers voice.

Hell, with enough money, Rachel was able to buy out their house in both her and her girlfriend's name.

Returning home from her afternoon jog, Rachel enters her home to hear her girlfriend/housemate laughing and chatting with someone unseen.

"Steph ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh ? In here, honey." Steph's voice answers in warm tone to of voice.

Rachel smiles as she kicked off her running shoes. Normally she'd take that workout bra and shorts off in the privacy of her own home, and ask Steph if she'd like to join her in the pool or shower.

As of yet in their relationship, Rachel and Steph were still yet to have sex; a personal boundary Steph set up until she was sure she was "ready" after Cathy was out of the picture. Still, cuddling on the bed and sofa or even the pool side, was a favorite pass time of theirs. And at the very least they where comfortable enough with eachothers bodies.

And sometimes a shower buddy was welcome.

But a of now, any of that was on hold.

"Why didn't you send me a heads up ?" Rachel asks as she makes her way to the living room, still in her sweat soaked clothes.

Steph was sitting in the couch, and sitting across from her at the coffee table was another woman.

She appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties; dressed in a white Hills Tank Top, black skinny jeans that shown off her figure and red high heels. She had bright red hair, and it was done in what would later be called "The Karen Cut".

At her side was a small black pug with a collar reading "Julius".

This woman and Steph where sipping tea while a movie was playing in the TV for background noise.

"Oh sorry Viv," Steph answers, remembering to call Rachel by her "public name" with guests over "Had a little mishap with the neighbors dog As you can see, one thing lead to another."

"Sorry about that," The woman replies with a British accent "Julius here gets rather excited when we go for walks. He's new to this and still getting used to things."

"Little bugger ran right up to me I while I was washing our cars." Steph adds "Must have liked my music."

It was a Brittney Spears album she was playing. Clearly, this dog is one of culture.

The woman sets her pug aside and step up her her chair to shake Rachel by the hand.

"Eliza Ashbury," She says shaking Rachel's hand "At your service."

"Vivian Manning," Rachel replies "But I guess you already knew that."

"Your other half and I have been getting acquainted. My own significant other and I have bought a house up the road. We've been scoping the neighborhoods." Ashbury explains "We were hoping to meet our neighbors under different circumstances, but Julius had other ideas."

As she says this, the pug immediately scampers up to Steph, crawling on the couch, where upon the human girl is quick to play a game off tummy rubs.

"I see," Rachel says "Out of curiosity, are you in the business as well or do you plan to be ?"

"Not in cinema or the like, although I own a publishing company." Ashbury explains "Speaking of; Miss Gingrich and I have been talking about your writing projects...those vampire books of yours."

"The Lost Chronicles," Rachel and Steph answer at the same time.

In between their lives at home or in the city, Rachel and Steph have been working on a pet project of there's. In the first few weeks they where together, Rachel told Steph all kinds of stories to get her through recovery - basically revisions of classic myths and legends, with the added addition of vampires and werewolves, and other such monsters were none were present.

Steph, still a theatre student at heart, appealed to Rachel's inner literary student and talked her into writing a manuscript from these stories. Under the pseudonym of Vivian Manning of course.

"What about it ?" Rachel asks.

"Miss Asbury here says she's very interested in checking out what we written." Steph explains.

"I must admit, I found the concept curious." Ashbury explains "Years back we had a similar novelization in mind; a combination of history, mythology in folklore in a revised narrative. We scrapped the story at the time, but I'd be lying if what Miss Gingrich told me didn't revive my former interest."

As Ashbury says this, she excuses herself to look around the room, showing a particular interest in their bookshelf.

"Ah, I see you are an owner of Red Dead." Ashbury notes taking the book off the shelf and flipping through the pages "I myself own a first addition copy. Autographed by the author no less." She adds, not mentioning she was the original publisher and her copy came with a "thank you" letter for getting the author out of a bad place.

"About The Lost Chronicles..." Rachel says "We are still quite a ways away from finishing them; and to be honest we were not looking to get them published at first."

"That's quite alright. I don't need to see it now." Asbury starts "That being said, I would like to discus it further with you on a later occasion." She says, putting Red Dead back on it's shelf.

"My other half and I are holding a house warming party for some friends we have in the Hills, once we are settled in. Your own rep as a party animal not withstanding, I would like for you to come." Ashbury says, crouching down, while Julius scampers towards his owner.

"We'll see." Steph says.

"You know," Rachel adds "If we have a clear schedule."

Ashbury stands up and smirks, pug in one of her arms. She looks to a set of notes they have on a desk and makes her way towards it. Taking hold of a pen, she writes down a number and hands the note to Rachel.

"Till then, I look forward to making more of your acquittance." Ashbury states "Business or otherwise."

With that, Asbury and her pet made their way out the front door.

After a moment, Rachel turns to Steph.

"So honey, you up for some pool time ?"

Chapter Text

January 27, 2020, Los Angeles

Rachel Amber awakes as she often does when she's alone; resting, naked and floating is relative peace in an isolation chamber. She feels something is in the room with her. Not just the room, but may very well be in the chamber as well. She hears a woman’s voice whispering to her. That voice. The one she hasn’t heard in years.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.” It says to her.

Rachel awakes, as her chamber opens. As she climbs out, she reaches for a dark purple, silky bathrobe. She looks to the window and sees the sun has disappeared over the horizon. The bedroom is filled with pictures and memorabilia she has collected over the years. On her nightstand sits an iphone on an iphone radio charger dock.

“What does my queen ask of me ?” Rachel replies. She walks up to her radio dock, and prepares to turn on her playlist.

“The time has come. A new dawn is upon us, and now I call upon my daughters to usher in this world.”

Rachael nods as she walks to her iphone dock, picking a song to start her evening routine with. Usually her picks are Wonderwall by Oasis; Moments Before the Storm by Poets of the Fall; Working 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton; Allstar by Smash Mouth; Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran; Lithium by Evansecence. It really depends on what mood she’s in. Rachel picks her song, takes a towel off a hanger on her door as she dries off her hair. Any other day, she'd lose herself to the music; lip-syncing, or just singing aloud, whilst dancing to the beat as she dressed up, but now she had to listen.

“And, is there a problem ?” Rachel asks, dropping her nightgown to the floor, picking out an outfit to wear for the night. Many of them range from classy; slutty; gothic to plain and wholesome. Rachel begins dressing up in her pick of outfit.

“As a matter of fact there is.”

The power cuts, as does the song, and a red shape forms behind her. A chill air fills the room and Rachel freezes in mortification.

“You’ve been seeing someone, haven’t you ? Someone you knew in your old life.”

"I...I don't know-" Rachel starts, but before she can finish, a red hot sensation runs up her spine and through her limbs.

"Do you think I'm stupid, baby girl ?" The Queen spoke. The figure disappeared in the haze, but the voice remained. All Rachel could see was red. "Tell me, what have you been up to in my absence ?"

Rachel grits her teeth, tries to form the words but they won't come out.

Rachel feels a pressure on her throat, a hand. Forcing her eyes open, Rachel sees the figure seen as a herald of the Red Queen holding her to the wall.

"I don't take many things personally girl, nor do I take them lightly." The figure said "Who else knows, that you are here ?"

"A...a few people." Rachel gasped out.

"A few people." The Voice says "People who know you. People who could take you from my grasp. But your folly, girl, is no one escapes me. No one!"

Rachel felt the room spinning, as her body was tossed out the slide-in-window at her room's side.

Rachel rolls out onto her deck, and at the side of her pool. Before she can settle in on what's around her, she feels one of those bloody hands take hold at the back of her neck. It pushes her head into the water holding her down.

"I've seen you. I watched you." The Queen's voice echoes in her head "I see your heart and who it beats for. I will not lose another one so close; I saw the way your heart beats for your other mother - the imposter. I see the way it breaks with guilt for the one you call Chloe. I seek how it fills with rage for the one you call Mark. I see how it beats for Stephanie, as if she could fill the spot so many left empty. How is that working out for you, my dear ?"

Somehow, Rachel finds the strength to force her head out of the water, staring up at the red shadow glaring down at her. The image is obscured, but as usual, Rachel could see the image of a fey like woman behind all the blood.

Rachel gasps out her breaths, as if she still needed to breath.

"I...have had enough...of you goddamn control freaks!" Rachel spits at the figure. Remembering how the Red Queen's avatars were said to have been physically harmed, Rachel is quick to kick fiercely at this thing's "ankle".

The Queen's Shadow barely staggers , Rachel manages to stand up. Her dormant predatory instincts bore her fangs as she went for the Shadow's "eyes".

It must have done something as it screamed and staggered back when Rachel forcefully pulled away, pulling something out of the Queen's "face".

The figure collapses into a puddle of blood, but Rachel's memory of tales of the Queen knew this was basically the equivalent of being knocked over. Rachel made a dash to her broken slide-in door. She looked over her shoulder to see the Avatar's form growing back.

Rachel spat as the taste of blood that was the Queen formed in her mouth. Rachel made her way to her bedside and took something out from her night stand drawer.

It was a small bottle. No bigger than a pop can, filled with a clear but blue liquid. Hastily opening her bottle she remembered what she was told over the years.

"For emergencies only. This is not a be all end all solution, Miss Amber. Just medicine that can keep it at bay."

Well, looks like Rachel has an emergency on her hands.

Opening the bottle, Rachel backed away from the advancing figure. Rachel splashed a little of the liquid at the Queen's avatar.

The mass of Blood sizzled, as the Queen's figure flinched back.

"Mallacht Dé ort!" The Queen's voice curses out.

Rachel continues backing up towards her bedroom door, making a run for it as she answers "A chonách san ort!"

Rachel made her way up the stairs, to her house's main floor. She saw the blood flowing up the floor, practically flooding the lower halls.

Rachel poured some of the bottle down onto the blood, causing it to bubble and drain down the stairs. Rachel made her way out her house's front door, to her car, taking the keys from her kitchen counter on the way out.

Rachel had time to open her door to see blood exploding out her house's front door.

What the neighbors will think of this, Rachel sardonically thought to herself at the mess spilling out onto her driveway and onto the sidewalk.

The semi humanoid shape of the Queen's avatar, once again takes form. In a desperate fit, Rachel pours out half the bottle onto the Blood around her, but it does nothing to stop the Queen's advancement.

Further desperate, Rachel tosses the bottle into the Red Queen's shadow itself. Rachel flinched away at the ungodly roar that came from the Queen, but the sound of car alarms alerted Rachel that it woke the block up.

Collecting her wits, Rachel opened her car door, stepped in and pulled out the driveway. Taking her phone and putting it on speaker, Rachel picks Steph's number first.

Steph was visiting a niece of hers in Portland for her birthday. For reasons one could understand, Rachel never met the kid herself, nor was she allowed to join Steph this trip.

Steph answers the phone immediately. From the chipper tone in her voice, and the sounds of cartoons on in the background - that Rachel recognized as The Loud House - Steph was probably watching some show with her niece. Or alone (Steph has been trying to get Rachel into the show too).

"Hey Rae," Steph says "What's up ?"

"Steph, baby. I need you to extend your vacation for a while."

"Babe, what's wrong ?" Steph says.

"Something happened at the house. I gotta lay low for a while. Delete my number and stay close to your family!" Rachel says trying to focus on the road.

"Is the...worse case scenario happening ?" Steph asks with a nervous twinge in her voice.

"I-I don't know." Rachel stutters out "I'm gonna reach out to some people. Just don't go and talk to any strangers that ask about me. I'll reach out to you if I can-"

"You mean, when you can." Steph says.

Rachel hesitates before she says "I just gotta lay low. I don't want you to worry."

"You telling me not to worry, is making me worry." Steph answers back.

"I'm sorry, babe." Rachel breathes out "I'll explain everything as soon as I can."

As soon as Steph hangs up, Rachel makes another call for someone else; someone she's been seeing and talking to for the past few years as she adjusted into the life of a vampire.

They pick up.

"Miss Amber. I take it this isn't a casual call; what's the problem ?"

"Doc, it's happening." Rachel starts.

"What's happening ?"

"Think!" Rachel says.

It takes him a few seconds to realize "Oh, Goddammit. Does anyone else know ?"

"Just my girlfriend. She's out of the city. Where are you ?"

"Still stationed in Beaver Creek."

"Okay, I'll meet you there-" Rachel says, but is interrupted before she can use the phone.

"No! That is ill advised." The doctor says "I have contacts in LA, that'll look over your house. I'll send some to pick you up. I can get you to our Malibu safe house but-"

"Alright, just tell me where to meet them." Rachel nods.

----

In under an hour, Rachel was out of the city, thinking of a place to stop. Much was going through her mind at once; all that stuff Rachel has been hearing about, it looks to be just around the corner. She heard the stories, knows all the dreams of the Red Queen and the secret history of vampires.

Hell, she put a lot of them on page and the stage.

She knew she didn't kill the actual Red Queen back there; and she knew that when the Queen is this far into awakening, she can guarantee that some sort of disaster was around the corner. In the years she spent in LA, Rachel hasn't felt the Queen's presence so strongly since 2016, and the years between then and now, she'd only have "glimpses" of her, dreams of her, or the sound of her voice here and there.

But nothing as strong as this malevolent goddess sending an avatar of hers to pay Rachel a visit. Let alone trying to kill her.

And with the people she's been in contact with for the past five years, she felt a little pulled; like two hands were tugging her back and forth. She knew a day like this would be coming; the time would come for her to pick sides. And now that it was here she wasn't ready.

As per her contacts request, Rachel pulls into a gas station off the outskirts of Malibu.

It was near midnight, and despite the fact it doesn't tend to snow in LA, Rachel felt a shiver. She entered the station twice; once two pick up snacks, and a bathroom break an hour later. She was told to wait for a white SUV, to flash it's headlights four times at her.

She turned on the radio, some station that played 80's and 90's music, mostly for background noise, waiting for that SUV to show up.

By 2:AM, such a vehicle pulled up, and Rachel was muttering the lyrics of Eddie Money's Two Tickets to Paradise, but it didn't blink it's lights when three nondescript men and one other woman stepped out. Aside from glancing at Rachel as they walked past her, they made no attempt to indicate any interest.

Rachel watches them as they step into the gas station, one of the men talking to the cashier as the other three look around at the snacks. By the looks of it, they were just college kids going about a trip of there's. Probably some kind of bender.

At first nothing spectacular happens...until the station cashier turns around and the young man talking to him climbs up over his desk and bites down into the older man's throat.

"Oh, fuck me." Rachel mouths, as she puts her keys in the car's ignition.

Now there are two instincts going through Rachel's head at once; fight or flight. Her instinct to survive told her to flee, not get involved; do what she'd do if she was still the teenager she was in Arcadia Bay. The other, reminded Rachel she was a vampire, and since these were clearly vampires themselves, obviously, Rachel could do something about them.

The four "college students" were surrounding the cashier, biting and draining the body like it was nobody's business. In under a minute, there was more blood on the floor than there was a man.

Rachel steps out of her car, her teeth flaring, the nagging voice at the back of her head telling her not to fall for this "heroic vampire crap".

Walking to the glass door, Rachel grits her teeth as she opens this, ready to say or do something "Buffy esque" as one would put it. But the words were lost two her when the four other vampires turned around to glare at her.

"There she is. We've been looking for you." The girl says, standing up to face Rachel.

"I take it, you know who I am ?" Rachel asks.

"It didn't take long to figure out." One of the boys says "After all that pretty picture of yours was all over our families bulletin board."

"So, the Reid family didn't send you ?" Rachel nods, cracking her knuckles and rolling up her sleeves.

"We're just a little ahead of the curve. After all, that's what the lot of Mother's followers are. Just ahead of everyone else, in just about every-" The girl says licking the blood from her teeth.

"You know, you can try not to talk like some cartoon bad guy." Rachel deadpans, rolling her eyes "I'm a theatre student, what's your excuse ?"

"Look, Rachel." One of the boys says, trying to sound reserved and reasonable, despite the majority of his front torso was covered in dark red liquid "Mordred, we can put a good word in for him, but you can either do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours."

Rachel circles the group, weighing in her odds. Four against one in a small space, all things considered.

"Well," Rachel says with a sigh "When you put it that way."

Without any warning, Rachel lunges at the smallest seeming boy in the group. Pulling him into a chokehold, she figures using his body as a shield and possibly a weapon, could give her some edge. As the young man struggles in her grasp, the other three vampires make their way to charge her down. Two of them stood close enough to each other, that when Rachel tossed the smaller one toward them, the three collapsed.

Next was the one closest to her; the girl, who immediately tackles Rachel and bites down into the shoulder. "A stun bite," Rachel thinks to herself "They want me alive. Can't say the feeling's mutual."

Rachel reaches her arm around the woman's head, managing to stick a thumb right into the woman's left eye. Vampire fighting is messy work, but this is small potatoes to the stuff Rachel has been seeing over the years. She jabs her thumb in, reaching all the way to the hilt, and the vampire woman releases Rachel's shoulder to scream and shudder from the invasive feeling.

Rachel takes advantage of this to flip the vampire onto her back, and smash her head into the floor below.

One of the other vampires wraps their arms around Rachel, who on instinct slams her head backwards into his nose. As he staggers back, and curses, Rachel grabs hold of the vampire by his shirt collar, and spins him into the glass door, shattering it on impact.

Rachel looks down to the vampire woman still rolling on the floor, clutching her hands over her bleeding sockets. Knowing she has little time to act, Rachel stomps her foot down onto her neck, with enough force that a loud snap is heard.

"Sasha!" One of the boys screams, getting up to charge Rachel down.

In the short amount of time Rachel had, she glanced at a wet floor sign in the corner of the station. Behind it was a mop and bucket, that Rachel makes a dash towards.

Barely dodging the male vampires, Rachel takes hold of the mop, pleased to find it is one of those metal ones, and in one swift motion, breaks the handle in half over her knee.

One of the boys doesn't relent in charging, and Rachel lifts one half of the broken mop handle up defensively. The vampire lets out a silent gasp and the sharp end digs into his stomach.

He collapses to his knees, as Rachel lifts the other half above her head, and drives it down through his. The vampire lets out a deep groan from his throat and collapses into a heap.

Rachel stares at the other two vampires, as she pulls one end of the handle out from the fallen vampires stomach. While the still standing vampire looks taken aback, Rachel makes her move, instantly rushing and driving the sharp handle through the vampire's heart, backing him towards the wall.

That vampire lets out a death rattle, as Rachel turns her attention towards the last one of the bunch, still staggering in broken glass.

She takes quick advantage of his disorientation to dash towards the mop bucket, and hurl it at the dazed vampire. As he collapses again, Rachel lunges/climbs onto him, looking around for a big enough shard of glass in the mess she made.

Finding one, Rachel places the glass into his throat and slashes it deep and open, cutting all the way to the bone.

Taking a moment she catches her breath, Rachel looks around at her fallen foes, as two thoughts came to mind; a victorious, almost proud "Holy shit, look what I did!" and a cautious, pragmatic, mortified "Holy shit, look what I did!"

Rachel walks in a disoriented fashion out the gas station's front door, and towards her vehicle. Many thoughts where going through her head at once; besides the fact the vampire cult that's been watching her are now out to get her, aside from the fact she barely escaped an avatar of the Red Queen; the fact the apocalyptic event they've been hyping up to her for years is apparently underway; Rachel just killed four lackies - self defense, yes and they did kill the gas stations owner, but still.

People are going to find out about this, and it's not like she can just erase security footage; such things are not in her expertise.

She was nearly at the verge of throwing up due to how much was happening, in such a short amount of time. She only snapped out of it when she heard her phone going off.

Seeing it was an unknown number, she sent the thing to voicemail.

She hasn't heard this voice in five years, but knew it instantly. It was Mordred, no doubt going by a new name.

"Good evening, I'm sure you aren't very confused as to what transpired tonight. You knew this was coming, that Mother would call upon you. I'm sure you are also aware that what you did was set her back a few steps at best. You can try to run Miss Manning...but you cannot run from destiny forever. Despite what you may think, we only have your best interests in mind; and despite what you deny, you have what it takes to be a building block in the world to come."

Rachel says nothing, knowing he couldn't hear over a voicemail anyways. She only lets out a shaky breath as she looks at the bloody carnage she left behind.

Mordred's voice continues.

"Today, tomorrow, I know you will come to us again. What happened back then ? We can put it in the past. But day by day, your options will wear thin. It will not be a matter of if my mother calls upon you - or if we will find you - but when. The people in your old life, we are watching them particularly closely. I give the word, and we will come for them as well. But let it be known I can be merciful. And let it be known, there is still a favor I owe of you. There is one you wish dead; for what you did  for us, as Scarlet Rivers, I will take his life from your hands. It is that you owe me. You need not to answer us back, we will seek you first."

The message ends, and Rachel notices a few lights in the distance. Four vehicles were pulling in, and there was little Rachel could to to try to fight or flee. So she just waits as they pull in. These were all black cars, of the same model, and their passengers dressed like something you'd expect a secret service bodyguard would.

The passengers of one car look over, the van - specifically, in the back, while the other two sets of passengers examine the utter crime scene that was the gas station itself . From the fourth car, a bodyguard steps from the front seat before moving to the back seat. When the back door opens, out steps a woman in a dark business suit, with a short cut style to go with her black hair.

Rachel scarcely recognizes the woman as she makes her way towards her.

"Miss Amber ?..." The woman - Mary as Rachel starts to recall - asks.

Rachel swallows before letting out a shaky nod.

"I figured you'd recognize me." Mary nods, making her way towards Rachel, placing a cautious hand on her shoulder "We've been monitoring your escort. It seems there are a few bugs that slipped past my brother's eye."

Rachel says nothing as she notices the bodyguard taking the vampire's bodies from the station.

"You did this, didn't you ?" Mary says, shaking her head "After years of Lizzie trying to pacify you."

"It worked." Rachel manages to say as her thoughts become more coherent "That vial. I used it up when the Queen-"

"You saw her ?" Mary asks, taking Rachel by the cheek and making her face her "You saw the Red Queen ?"

Rachel shakes her head "No her - what do they call them ?"

"Avatars."

"Right." Rachel nods "But I know she will still come for me. They all will come for me." She finishes looking off into the distance..

"Then by the looks of it, you need somewhere to hide." Mary says "Luckily, I know a place."

Mary places one hand on Rachel's lower back, and gestures her to follow.

Rachel hesitantly steps forward, following Mary's lead.

----

February 5th, 2020

Rachel wakes up, noticing a bright light flashing through the curtains of a window.

Getting up with a groan and stretch, Rachel hops off of what appears to be her bed.  She finds she is barefoot, and the floor was cold as concrete. It most certainly was. What little light there was showed Rachel was in a white t-shirt and grey pajama bottoms.

Rachel pulls the blinds out from the window, flinching from the sudden sunlight. Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust, she sees she is in a tall building; five stories high by the looks of things. It was a snowy area, and forested one too.

There was another building a short distance away, separated only by a spacious parking lot, but she could see a sign in the center of it all. From this, Rachel was able to collect her thoughts.

This was the Beaver Creek Regional Hospitals. Nicknamed "The Twins" by some locals for consisting of two buildings. One a standard hospital, the other a children's hospital. It was founded and funded by the Reid family, and Ashbury's people. Sometimes Dr. Reid would work at these hospitals as cover when he was in the area. It was all clicking back together.

The night Rachel fled Los Angeles, she was taken from state to state by one Mary Reid, who took her here. 

There were some arguments between Mary and the rest of the family about what to do with Rachel, but it was agreed she'd be under watch a safe distance between her and LA. Also they could check her blood on a more consistent rate. 

Rachel turns around to see Mary, in one of her bi weekly checkups.

"So I see you're still here." Mary addresses Rachel.

"Not like there is much anywhere to go." Rachel says plainly. Really, she could move around the hospital as she pleases, it's just she'd be under watch here "So much happened so fast, I keep thinking that it's all a dream."

Probably the sleeping pills, Rachel thinks to herself. Rachel's been requesting stronger doses lately to try to silence the Queen's voice. So far it seems to be working.

"Do you have any updates on Steph ?"

"I haven't been following her personally, dear." Mary says "But we're still keeping an eye on her. If anything drastic happens, we will step in."

Rachel nods "Thank you, Mary. Have you heard from your brother ?"

"Last I heard he was revisiting Delos Crossing." Mary explains "Keeping an eye out for Myrddin's newest champion."

Rachel gives a heavy sigh when she thinks back to the name supposedly spoken by Myrddin (at least if Ashbury and Reid's statements are to go by).

"Why him though ?" Rachel shakes her head.

"I don't get it myself." Mary says, walking up behind Rachel, turning the younger woman to face her "But I do know there were worse candidates for this heroic vampire crap out there. You wrote books of them yourself."

"The truth is out there. Someone's got a tell it." Rachel says dramatically, before looking down at how close Mary was holding her. 

Mary notices too and steps away "Sorry. Old habits; not only do they die hard, but they keep coming back from the dead."

Rachel blushes thinking back to the night she met Mary "If you say so. To be honest, I'm not sure I get them though. I get Ashbury has a dark past, but this whole thing hits a little close to home."

"I don't want to sound like I am defending the boy, but he was remorseful over what happened, with you especially." Mary explains.

"Didn't stop him the first time." Rachel looks away with a glare.

"Look, I'm not saying you gotta welcome the guy with open arms or anything," Mary starts, putting a finger under Rachel's chin, making the younger woman face her. "Lord knows there's a lot that still puts me at odds with my brother, enough to almost put us at each others throats...but we are on the same side for now, and that's what matters."

"For now." Rachel nods in agreement.

There is a brief pause in the room, when the two women realize just how deeply they're looking each other in the eye, and how close they were still standing. It was bringing back memories of their previous encounter.

They both step back, but Mary decides to break the ice, just to get it out of the way.

"Is...there anything else I can do for you, Miss Amber ?" Mary says, placing her hands behind her back innocently.

Rachel thinks about it for a moment, smiles and shakes her head wistfully, "I think I'm a little out of it to be giving consent on anything. Plus, I put that whole thing behind me. I want to do good by Steph is all."

Mary rolls her eyes and smiles back "If you say so, Rachel. But I don't think that time it was the three of us together counts as cheating."

"Well, when Steph is here we can talk about it." Rachel says, before placing a hand on Mary's shoulder "But for what it's worth, there's quite a few things in my mortal life I regret. What happened with you and me wasn't really one of them."

Mary chuckles humorously "I find that hard to believe."

"If you didn't mark me that night, I would still be dead."

"If I didn't mark you that night, you wouldn't be a target in your undeath." Mary tries to correct her.

Rachel doesn't break that innocent look she had on her face "Some things are worth it I guess."

Mary crosses her arms and smirks "You're impossible, you know that ? I'm gonna get one of the doctors here, see if we can get you checked up. How's that sound ?"

Rachel shrugs "Why not ? It's not like I have much to do here."

Mary smirks before taking her leave out the door, being sure to saunter her hips a little in case Rachel was watching.

Rachel wistfully shakes her head, going back to and looking out the window, just admiring the view.

That's when Rachel started to hear the Queen's voice.

"Do you think you can hide here forever, my dear. Destiny calls you, it will always call you, and has a way of finding those it seeks. You can run as you wish, but you can never escape the truth; the reason you were born anew. If we don't come to you, you will surely come to us. What say you girl ?"

"I say..." Rachel pauses to think of the right words "Bite me. Pardon the pun."

Rachel steps away from the window and towards the door. It was about time Rachel had her checkup.

Besides, it's not like anyone would find her here under Reid's watch...

That was, at least until March, when Beaver Creek would be sieged one night, and Rachel would leave the hospital with a fire axe.

-----

Broadmoor, Seattle, March 15th, 2020

A bedroom door opens, as a silent watcher a cute, innocent looking figure.

Her intruder creeps to the side of the bed, careful not to disturb her. It climbs onto the bed, silently peering down on the blonde girl beneath it.

It looks peaceful, deep in thought. Deep in the world we go too to escape this one. Almost makes one want to join her.

Still careful not to disturb, it lies down on the covers, resting its head on the pillow opposite of her.

And then...Victoria Chase's phone goes off to Knocks You Down by Keri Wilson and Kayne West.

It was their song. The first one they danced too.

Barely phased by this, Kate mumbles as she roused from sleep.

"Mmm, what time is it ?"

Victoria quickly checks her phone to find it was just Taylor calling the wrong number.

In any case, Kate answers her own question to check the timer on the stand beside her; 11:32 PM.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you." Victoria says before disregarding what turned out to be the wrong number.

"I was just checking in on Bill." Victoria explains, in reference to her favorite nephew.

"He's asleep ?" Kate asks.

"I don't think an earthquake would wake him up at this point." Victoria nods "Looks like this place is a nightmare free zone after all."

"I think Max's place is haunted." Kate says "I swear I saw that picture blink at me."

Victoria stifles back a laugh as she climbs under the sheets with Kate.

"Well, I say we join the kid in the wonderful world of sleep. What do you say ?"

"Already there." Kate says, nuzzling up to Victoria.

For Victoria she needed some noise to help her drift off. Her experiences made it so she at least needs a fan. Reaching up over Kate to their stand, Victoria turns on their clock/radio - careful to have the volume turned down to a reasonable buzz.

To Victoria's amusement, the radio was playing Baba O'Riley (Teenage Wasteland) by The Who.

----

Yup, that's Victoria and Kate. You're probably wondering how these two got into their situation.

It all started in 2013, with what was popularly called "The Sinking of Arcadia Bay" brought about by events that left a few people dead, many arrested or missing; it ultimately ended with Arcadia Bay becoming a ghost town with all it's businesses effectively sinking, including the police department and Blackwell Academy.

With it, came the exposure of numerous dirty secrets and corruption; especially that one one Mark Jefferson. Arcadia Bay was pretty much a ghost town these days.

For many, especially students directly or indirectly involved with Mark Jefferson or Nathan Prescott, there was so much to take it. The fact that not only Kate was victimized by these two, but when the name Victoria Chase ended up on the list...well, you can say both girls, in the face of everything that's happened, just sort of broke down.

In the initial weeks that followed, Victoria rarely interacted with Kate out of shame. And Kate rarely stepped out from a different kind of shame - Kate even ghosted Max Caulfield a few times after the fact.

In early 2014, a trauma counsellor by the name of Thomas Wilson was able to reach out to several students involved. He was a man who ran a clinic/lodge off the outskirts of Seattle, and according to some was doing it for publicity. Didn't stop Kate from joining the other several students who agreed to stay at the clinic. And after a pretty ugly breakdown Victoria she had on Christmas and her parents got her a car, she too joined them.

Victoria for her part was bottling up so much regarding her own trauma that it resulted in a boiling point. When the clinic was recommended to Victoria, the Chase family agreed to get her the help she needed.

Not a week into her stay did the good doctor realize the issue; Victoria needed to confront her guilt, and arranged to have Victoria and Kate sit down to vent to each other. Kate, for her part, claims to already forgive Victoria after her initial apology. Victoria, for her part, refused to accept her forgiveness so easily.

And excerpt from one of their arguments goes as such.

"It can't be that easy Kate! It just can't!" Victoria would say.

"It can be." Kate answers "What kind of person would I be if I let-"

"You were- you were-" Victoria couldn't finish her sentence.

"Victoria...you didn't know." Kate says.

"I should have," Victoria shouts, her eyes watering "I was Nathan's friend and he-"

Kate steps up from her seat to hug Victoria, causing the latter to flinch away.

"You. Didn't. Know." Kate says.

"But...that video! Kate, I am the reason you wanted to-" Victoria starts, on the verge of weeping "Why don't you hate me ?"

"No. You weren't the reason." Kate says plainly.

She hugs Victoria again before looking her in the eye, wiping a tear from one of said eyes.

"I...didn't have that many people supporting me." Kate says "You ? You were a bi- I mean, bully. But you were not the ones who hurt me the most."

"I don't understand."

Kate sighs before talking again "My church. They haven't made me feel loved in such a long time. When I was a kid, the place was a safe haven. Jesus was my safe haven. I thought I could trust them - turn to them to help me. When word got out about what happened, they said I had to have done something wrong; there was something wrong with me."

Kate stares blankly recalling a childhood memory in which a young rape victim had to apologize to her rapists family in her church for "leading him to sinful desires" and getting him put in jail. Kate could only wonder what her church would do now that word of the Dark Room got out.

Already there are News Outlets taking the "Prescott Narrative" that puts more blame on girls like Rachel Amber or Chloe Price over either Nathan or Jefferson. Some such people were in Kate church groups or on their Facebook page.

"Victoria, what you did...well it did hurt me." Kate says "But nowhere near as much as the stuff my mother and aunt have said to me; what my pastor said to me - this family who is used to babysit-"

"But that video." Victoria says plainly "They wouldn't even know what happened if it were not for-"

"If it wasn't you, it'd be someone else. Taylor, Juliet." Kate shrugs "It's High School, you kind of learn to expect these things. But even if there was no video, word would have gotten to my church either way."

Victoria didn't know what else to say, so she pretty much relegated herself to silence.

Kate continues "If I could forgive them, I should forgive you. Like I said, you didn't hurt me nearly as much as they did."

This one caught Victoria by surprise "You forgave them ?"

Kate shrugs "I have to. They told me themselves."

----

Throughout 2014, both in and out of their stay at the clinic, Kate and Victoria met like this time and again.

Sure, other traumatized students bonded over their healing sessions as well, but with Kate and Victoria, something between them sort of clicked, and quite a few of their friends noticed, and were under the impression they were a couple, well before they actually became one.

Their situation was one that quite a few people wanted to exploit. Sure, about a dozen or so people confirmed to have been targeted or victimized by Jefferson...but they were one of those people. You know, the drop outs, teen mothers, girls from the wrong side of the tracks.

But someone with a background in class (Victoria) and/or religion (Kate), that was the ideal victim at it's finest.

If you follow outlets covering the story of Blackwell's Survivors, Kate and Victoria was an emotional story of a former victim and bully, who were scarred by the same monster in one way or another. A story of forgiveness and healing, bonding over a mutual trauma.

Which to be fair, they did consider their friendship this; the issue is, they didn't need it sensationalized.

Victoria's family had the right idea in trying to keep her out of the spotlight. No interviews, statements or acceptance of donations, unless expressly accepted by Mr. and Mrs. Chase themselves.

Kate's family and church was another story; At the vehement insistence of her aunt and her church group, Kate was made to speak about her trauma before an expectant congregation. Kate was to speak of how her faith never wavered, how she knew God was at her side and was grateful that her people stood by her side.

Victoria ended up attending quite a few of these - mostly for Kate's benefit, as she considered herself an agnostic in recent years. And really seeing Kate go from temple to temple, speaking to congregation after congregation, having to tell a practically scripted account of her experiences in October ? It all made Victoria's stomach turn.

These same people - the ministers, the youth group, members of her family - who condemned Kate like she was the problem, were now being spoon fed a narrative where they were pretty much the solution. The lot of the time Victoria was in her own world, whatever they preachers spoke of.

The only real exception was this one church in Beaver Creek.

It had a sermon hosted by a youth preacher, an Middle Eastern one at that, who went by Mikael; little was known of him other than he went to speak at youth groups in different Churches and temples. He was an up and coming fellow, reaching out to youth struggling with their faith, and giving lectures to congregations.

Despite this, he is never noted to appear on camera, and no one was able to uncover anything of his past. He was interested in Kate's story, that he appeared as a special guest the same day as Kate.

Looking back, Victoria thinks that it was the sermon or lecture's subject that stood out to him the most.

"Can anyone here see Satan in the flesh ?" He would say, as Kate walks back to her seat and takes her place beside Victoria.

He went on to describe the attributes of the devil to the crowd, in a way that caught both Kate and Victoria's attention. To be fair, he seemed to direct attention to Kate, as he used Arcadia Bay as an example.

This minister talked about how Satan is a corrupter, a deceiver, and above all else, a murderer. Satan would put up a pure and charming front, an "upstanding citizen" as it were, when he is simply there to destroy and corrupt the world he walks upon. That he would take people into a dark place, as if he would feed upon their misery.

This was pretty basic, and at a few points brought a man like Jefferson up. If Jefferson was an example of "Satan in the flesh", he wasn't one they saw coming, but made so sense in retrospect.

"But, Satan is more than just a deceiver, or destroyer." The young minister says "He is an Accuser. In fact one of the many translations to Satan's name is literally Accuser. Named as such, because he is the one who points at you and your sins and shouts the loudest."

As a quietness came over the congregation, this man Mikael smiles.

"But don't take it personally, it's all projection on his part."

The lecture went on to describe Satan as being, essentially, moralizing personified. He and those like him will hold every sin, every slight, every mistake over your head, no matter how much you apologize, try to heal or try to make right.

"Satan is that thing that points at one little slip up and tells you that you have no hope; that you can never heal, and you don't deserve to fix yourself; that you are the human garbage that fills the Earth, and have no right existing. The most you can do for the people around you is to lie down and die."

He pauses before he continues.

"But it is in fact, projection on his part. He simply wants everyone to be as miserable and hateful as he is. Perhaps, trying to distract himself from his own toxicity ? He's the kind of guy who looks in the mirror all the time and lashes out at others because he doesn't like the reflection."

This was the part that hit Victoria the most...despite what Kate tells her, on some level she knew why spread that video around. Why she was so eager to get on Kate's case for that party. She wanted to have an edge over the seeming pure and perfect Christian girl. And all at the expense of putting her through Hell.

"By god," Victoria would think to herself "I really am the devil."

Victoria hangs her head in a way that catches Kate's eye. Kate reaches Victoria's hand and holds it in her own, when the young man continues. It was almost as if he was reading her mind.

"It is in fact, bovine scatology. You try to fix yourself, you're already on the path of healing. That voice trying to break you down ? It lies to you, and it lies to itself." He says "I'm going to list some examples of Satan in the flesh, from the good book of course, and perhaps we can recognize him in this day and age."

Minister Mikael went on to describe the events and vitriol surrounding Arcadia Bay - specifically how teenage girls who were victimized, tend to get more attacks and backlash, than seemingly even the actual murderers.

He recites the woman caught in adultery, not so subtly drawing parallels to Kate's plight, and that of the other girls and women who have been attacked in Arcadia Bay. He brought up the parable of the "Pharisee and the Tax Collector", and the "Unmerciful Servant", and "The Prodigal Son", using the antagonists in these stories as more direct examples of "Satan in the Flesh''.

"And so," he asks "If we cannot see Satan among us, how so can we see God or his messengers ?"

Here is what Victoria herself took from this sermon; The only difference, between these kinds of people, and the actual devil, is the way they spelled their name.

For most of the congregation, the message seemed to fly over their heads. Kate and Victoria could already hear the other churchgoers taking the wrong lesson from the "cast the first stone" story, and already saying to themselves "Thank God, I'm not like that person."

This was one of the last times Minister Mikael spoke in church. He kind of disappeared from the world after more traditional preachers denounced him as a false teacher when he made some less than traditional viewpoints. The fact that there was no consistent description of his physical appearance, and any image of him on camera blurs, he was pretty much a non entity.

Regardless, his message is what left an impression on both Kate and Victoria.

They talked about it on skype the night they returned to their respective homes.

"Do you think I can for-" Victoria starts to ask "That I should forgive Nathan ?"

"I..." Kate starts "I don't know myself."

"I mean it's different for you, after what happened, but with Nate." Victoria sighs "It hurts me a little more. He was my friend and-"

"Don't you think maybe he was using you ?" Kate asks, sounding uncharacteristically bitter "Like Jefferson was ?"

"Nathan felt more real to me. I knew him well before Jefferson. Maybe Jefferson was using him too." Victoria shrugs.

Kate sighs "I knew my church group before I went to Blackwell. I was in youth groups, I was even babysat by the deacons daughter. For the longest time they felt like a second family to me. Then after the Dark Room." Kate snaps her fingers to empathize her point "They turn on me like I was a child predator. My dad, sisters and grandma were about the only one who supported me, and the rest want the credit."

"And you forgave them." Victoria says.

"I had too. I don't know what they'd do if I didn't-" Kate starts before Victoria interrupts her.

"You, somehow, forgave me." Victoria points out.

"Hey, at least you're trying." Kate says "That more than can be said with Nathan."

Kate stops herself when she notices Victoria wiping her eyes.

"Tori, baby I'm so sorry." Kate says before covering her mouth. Then Kate realizes she just called Victoria "baby".

Victoria chuckles a bit at how flustered Kate got, which was enough to pull her from the edge of tears.

"What I meant to say is, maybe there's a difference between helping someone who's trying to do right by you, and just blindly overlooking go of your abusers treatment." Kate shrugs.

"And your church ?" Victoria asks "What else did they do for you ?"

Kate pauses again and shakes her head.

"I don't know."

-----

In the weeks that followed, Kate has been showing herself less and less at church, and more at her friends different apartments. Sometimes she'd stay with Max and her roommates. Other times she'd go with Victoria to the movies or something.

Victoria never pegged Kate as a horror fan at first, but when Kate brought up she was into Ray Bradbury, it sort of clicked together.

When they watched Beast From 20, 000 Fathoms, Kate went on a behind the scenes lecture about its history and significance in the Kaiju genre despite being a one shot. She also brought up how it was based in part on Bradbury's The Foghorn, and how being a partial inspiration to Godzilla was to Bradbury's chagrin.

Bit by bit, Victoria found that Kate took up being a light drinker to cope with what's happening. She gets pretty talkative and more confident when buzzed.

As it turns out, Kate has been receiving "worried messages" from her church group and some of her more conservative family members. Very little were of empathy of what she has gone through; more were about worries she was falling off the good and pure path they worked so hard to keep her on.

Many have taken to comparing her to one Chloe Price, whose name was thrown around after Arcadia Bay's "sinking".

Especially from the "Prescott/Amber '' narrative certain outlets pushed. Arcadia Bay was sensationalized enough; with people like the Prescott family or James Amber putting their children in the spotlight, with Nathan and Rachel unable to speak for themselves.

If you go by what the Prescott's say, it was about Nathan being a troubled, poor little rich boy, who really didn't deserve what he got, and despite all the bad he did, was a good guy at heart; if you go by the narrative pushed by the Amber family, it was about the precious, perfect daughter they lost to "undesirable elements" that lead to her death.

Then you got Chloe, whose name was thrown around as if she were the root of all of Arcadia Bay's misery and corruption.

It was mostly thanks to the character witness statements by one Eliot Hampden, among others digging into her behavior, dating as far back as when she was a kid (notably an instance on a camping trip the summer after her dad died, in which she broke down during a song and "ruined the other campers fun").

Compare this to the stuff that Nathan, Jefferson, even Victoria herself did to Kate. Alas, Victoria being a former bully, and one who was more responsible for nearly pushing Kate to the edge, was considered a small issue by the same people concerning themselves over that one time Chloe vandalized a bathroom.

In this case, Kate was seen as the "Anti Chloe'', and vice versa for reasons that boiled down to "perfect victim mentality"; Kate was cute, innocent and pure, coming from a good background and was outspoken in her (now deteriorating) faith. Chloe was a delinquent from a broken home, who had a heap of anger issues on account of her troubled relationship with her family, and untreated BPD.

Kate, who was still close to Max, got to know Chloe a little better. She even tried to speak out using her platform; saying that Chloe is an example of how children from unstable homes, and poor backgrounds should be given a chance to heal like Kate herself has; how people should reach out to them, provide a support system and help find a way to overcome their traumas.

This public statement fell on deaf ears, and boiled down to people using it as a way of bragging of Kate's virtue. Very few even entertained the notion of helping girls like Chloe or even girls that could end up like Chloe, unless it meant conforming them to their standards.

By September 2014, Kate was among the girls attending another party. This one to celebrate Max's birthday in some dance club in Seattle. Kate was just looking for a little escapism from what her so-called church friends were putting her through.

When Kate started drinking, she spent the better part of the party venting about her issues to Max and their friends...up until a friend of Max's gave Kate a little something to take her edge off.

It was a small amount, not enough to cause any serious damage, but enough to give her a light buzz and clear her head. To be fair, Kate was warned that she could only take it if she was absolutely sure this is what she needed.

And by God, did it give Kate a clear head. And as each day went by Kate took in more of the Mary Jane plants. Other than that one time where all she could see was Martians, there weren't any significant mishaps.

And with each and every moment of "clarity", Kate came to a realization; her faith was really shaken at this point. She thought she regained it when Max first reached out and helped her, but it slowly started to slip away when her church tried to make it about them.

Come 2015, Kate really let her church group have it over a Facebook post. It boiled down to a speech about how if any of them actually genuinely cared about her, they wouldn't have put her through hell, and how the lot of them wanted to exploit her trauma and pat themselves on the back for "helping" her.

Kate in the meantime ? Relied more and more on Max, Victoria, and all the other girls left behind from Arcadia Bay. But for one reason or another, she was drawn to Victoria.

Eventually, the very people who tried to focus on Kate as an exploitable victim, became turned off by her. In time, Kate started dressing more boyishly, became a regular user of pot, developed a love for rock music and the party scene, and would lash out in anger at her former church. And above all else, sought to explore her sexual or romantic preference.

She even got a pink stripe dyed into her hair to go with a new look.

In short, just about the only difference from Kate Marsh and Chloe Price at this point, was their names. That and Kate had a better support system than Chloe did back in the day.

Each and every time, people from Kate's old group would try to reach out to her, with "Thoughts and prayers" of course. Kate rejected their support all the time, to the point that the only ones still willing to support her are her father, sisters and grandmother.

The straw that broke the camel's back was on March 24, 2015; there was a party where Kate officially came out, with her new relationship with Victoria. They were at this club, and when Keri Hilson's Knocks You Down came on and spurred the two in a dance.

And at the end of it all, the two kissed.

Kate didn't care if people took videos or pictures this time around; she wanted everyone to see this.

Her church group practically imploded at this. Aside from their usual jargon, it was interesting to note that now Victoria was romantically involved with Kate - after about two years of healing between them - then and only then, did Victoria being a former bully actually matter to them.

"To hell with them!" Kate would say "All I got was the devil from them; I found God with you."

----

In 2017, quite a few things changed in their lives.

First they moved in together at a penthouse set up in Broadmoor.

Between Victoria's parents landing her a comfortable job as a photography studio, and a hobby as an art historian, and Kate getting a massive inheritance from her deceased grandmother, the two were living a fairly stable life.

The second thing was someone finally got Victoria to talk about what happened in Arcadia Bay.

It started when a writer got into contact with Victoria on her computer. This writer was someone who had an interest in telling the story about what happened in Arcadia Bay, from the perspective of those who never spoke yet. Specifically it was to be an unbiased, unfiltered version of events, free from both James Amber and the Prescott families influence.

Victoria was willing to speak on her own, but what sealed the deal for her was the email heading she received.

"How's the Tempests tea ?"

When Victoria read this message, she asked who this was; the sender was introduced as Vivian Manning, writer of some vampire books. They weren't exactly Victoria's genre. She was more of a Stephen King girl.

"Look," Manning's next email says "I'll just go out and say it. I'm a friend of Steph Gringrich...actually let me correct that, we are girlfriends. She told me she reached out to you and others after what happened in Arcadia Bay. That's how I got your email."

"Steph ?" Victoria writes "I haven't heard from her in a while. Didn't tell me she was dating a writer."

"I like to keep myself private." Manning's reply starts "Few people know it, but Vivian Manning is a pseudonym. For the sake of privacy, I am not comfortable giving out my real name. Just know, I was in the Dark Room too. And Blackwell."

"I see." Victoria writes "Look, I don't know why you contacted me if you value your privacy so much."

"Because the truth of what happened needs to get out; unfiltered. Unbiased. I've been looking into what happened with Nathan, and Rachel. You and I both know what they were like, do we ?"

Victoria shakes her head "Do we ? Look, I knew Nathan Prescott; he was one of my best friends. He didn't deserve to be hurt by his dad, or used by Jefferson, but what he did...I don't know if I can think of him the same way again."

"But you were there, and last I checked, the Prescott family didn't use you as a character witness." Manning writes "Look, Victoria, I have been where you are. Nathan was a friend of mine too - although I don't think we are as close as you two. Anyone willing speaking on his behalf so far, all came from or worked for the Prescott family, not those who were close to him."

"So...you want to write a biography ?" Victoria writes "About Nathan ?"

"About Nathan, about Rachel Amber, Chloe Price; more so about them - I want to cover what actually happened then, in the days leading up to Jefferson's arrest and the downfall of Arcadia Bay." Manning's message reads "Even if I have to make a documentary.  I am doing an expose, for the Prescott's, Amber's - Arcadia Bay was something people really want to know about, and I reached out to four of your friends. Talk to Taylor and Juliet, and they'll confirm what I'm saying. I just want to get your perspective."

Victoria takes a moment to think before she types "Can you send me a picture ? Who are you, really ?"

She is sent a link picture; it's of two women holding each other for a selfie on a forested area, probably a hiking trail, overlooking a mountain range. The city could be seen from a distance.

One woman she scarcely recognized as Stephanie "Steph" Gringrich (the wonders a change of clothes will do). The next one is of a woman with short cut, black hair. She was wearing a hat and a set of shades that slightly obscured her face, but there was something about her features that felt familiar to Victoria.

She couldn't put her finger on it though.

"You're not gonna ask me for nudes, are you ?" Manning's next reply asks.

"No, of course not." Victoria writes "I'll check in on my friends. If they say you haven't contacted them, the answer is no."

Shortly after, Victoria gets into contact with Juliet and Taylor; sure enough they have also been in contact with Vivian Manning, and have agreed to be interviewed for their perspective on certain events and people.

The narrative has been controlled by two parties, both of whom never really let those directly involved speak out.

It wasn't just them either; just about everyone who was available to speak was called to be interviewed. Some did so individually, others (the aforementioned Taylor and Juliet) did so via a skype call.

It was a face cam session, but the only one who didn't appear on camera was Vivian Manning. She said her cam was acting up, but she could be heard loud and clear.

There was something about the way Manning talked that struck something in Victoria; she had a familiar enough voice, but an accent about her that sounded like she was trying to disguise her voice - something along the lines of a southern belle or a valley girl voice. And the way she spoke with such familiarity and confidence was a little off putting.

Victoria knew this was supposed to be a Blackwell girl, but you'd think Victoria would be able to pick up who she is. This Manning girl was acting like she was a friend of theirs for years. Taylor and Juliet didn't seem to notice or care throughout their interviews, so Victoria decided not to press the matter.

"I just don't see why this is that important." Taylor says over the call "Pretty sure Arcadia Bay is a closed issue at the point. A lot of us tried putting it behind us."

"Yeah," Victoria says "There was like, a shooting back in October; dead cop and and a manhunt ? Arcadia Bay is old news."

"It's a matter of making sure the truth is out there; unfiltered." Manning says "I got word from friends in LA that James Amber has given a studio the rights to make a docudrama about his daughter's life and death; gonna be on Netflix or something. They are already looking for a director."

"And ?" Juliet asks.

"I have a vested interest in making sure the true story gets out. Arcadia Bay isn't a closed issue if people keep trying to revisit the damn place."

It was good enough of an answer as any, and Manning did get her interviews by day's end.

Days after the fact, Victoria got to thinking about who this Manning girl is.

She narrowed her options down and had a feeling Manning could be Samantha Myers.

Samantha was close to Nathan, and left the fall before everything went to shit. She was among those that people sought out after Jefferson and the Prescott's came to light, with rumors she could be a Dark Room victim. Problem was no one saw or heard from her until December of 2013.

And Victoria remembered Samantha as being the shy and sheltered type; most of her interactions with Myers was from when they both hung out with Nathan. She was hardly the person who would have this intimate knowledge of the Vortex Club.

So while Samantha was her initial option, there was too much ruled out.

Victoria looked back at the picture Manning sent her. The one with her and Steph.

Victoria just couldn't put her finger on it. If this person was Myers, she was pretty good at disguising herself.

Even so, there was something about Vivian Manning's facial features that kept nagging at Victoria's head. She'd look at the picture for hours each day. One night, in a dreamy haze that no amount of caffeine could snap her out of, and epiphany hit Victoria like a speeding pickup.

"It can't be..."

Rachel's face was the kind you get used to seeing, be it in the flesh, photographs or memorial pictures. Sure, Vivian had different hair and was hiding her eyes...but Victoria started to recognize the face; that nose, her cheekbones, the mouth. That voice in the skype chat. Everything.

"No, it's not her. It just can't be." Victoria thought to herself.

"Couldn't it, Tori ?" She thought back to herself "Why else would she be so invested in getting the truth about Rachel out ? Who's to say that Rachel couldn't be in witness protection or something ?"

But...Rachel's body was found after the fact. It was dead and buried for months before it was found. It was one of the biggest documented findings after the Dark Room was covered. DNA residue was all over the place and some jackass tried to leak crime scene photos from when her body was found.

And then, a not a day later, that body disappeared from the morgue.

But even if Rachel was in some kind of witness protection program, and that body was a decoy or something...that makes less sense seeing as you'd think that would mean the government would have been onto Jefferson as soon as she disappeared, right ?

It didn't add up.

What was she supposed to believe ? That Rachel Amber just came back from the dead, got caught up in some secret vampire society, which is why her pen name could be found writing vampire books ?

Are you seriously gonna tell Victoria that this Rachel somehow knows some kind of hidden truth of vampires and mythic figures, and is revealing this hidden truth through her books ?

Who comes up with this stuff ?

It was simultaneously the most logical and unbelievable at the same time.

Still...how the hell did Vivian Manning know about the Tea incident ? Only other people who knew of that prank were Rachel herself, and Kari- Chloe Price, and she knew for sure that Vivian is not Chloe.

So about a week into her search, Victoria contacted Vivian; she was unsure of how to go about it. She started by asking questions about Vivian.

"How did you know us ? In Blackwell, I mean." Victoria would start.

"You and me ? We didn't get along that well." Vivian answers.

"Do you have any idea of how little that narrows it down ?" Victoria asks.

"Sorry, but I can't say too much. Part of my deal. I took a risk reaching out to you." Vivian's next message says "For what it's worth, Victoria, I think if I did meet you face to face, I think we'd get along a lot better than we did then."

"You think so ?"

"I mean, do you consider yourself the same person as you were in Blackwell ? Is anyone the same person after four years ?" Vivian says "I've followed your story, among others. It fascinates me really, to see those left behind and how experience changes them. How much do you consider yourself changed ?"

There was something about Manning's line of questions that inspired Victoria to air out everything; specifically what happened between her and Kate over the years. How much their relationship changed.

Vivian brought up that she never met Kate during her time in Blackwell, but heard of her by reputation considering how her name was tossed around.

So Victoria took her time describing Kate. Of how Kate went from this pure innocent church girl to a rock loving, pot taking, tomboyish and carefree girlfriend; whose kind and loving heart was among the only things left intact, in spite of everything.

Victoria finishes her story with a sigh and a "You had to have been there."

"I wish I was."

They went back and forth like this for weeks, months, a few years.

Late in 2017, Vivian Manning released the expose she was intending to write. It was a bio of sorts of Rachel Amber from those who knew her, and were willing to speak.

It covered the widespread faults and corruption within Arcadia Bay; from the Prescott's financing the Dark Room to their sham "charities". It covered the unanswered details of James Amber's first wife, and that deal he made with Damon Merrick.

It also covered Rachel's early life and the circumstances leading to her abduction and death. It talked of why people loved her, of why she wasn't the perfect angel so many made her out to be.

It even devoted a large chunk of time covering the exact relationship between Rachel and Chloe Price. It would take up quite a bit of the story. Despite it also covering Rachel's affairs,  the way Vivian described the relationship, seemed to imply Rachel saw something in Chloe others didn't at the time.

Not soulmates, but a kinship.

To quote page 347, paragraph four; "Perhaps what drew Rachel to Chloe Price in the first place was two people seeking a kindred spirit; a living crutch to rest a weary head. They didn't want to face their problems, but escape them. Some would say Rachel was able to fill a hole in Chloe's heart, even if she wasn't the right shape. Perhaps Rachel was trying the same, but her heart kept seeking more than just Chloe to fill her empty spots. One wonders, what confrontation or apology they would say, should they cross paths again ? In this life or the next."

Needless to say, the book gained a small following, and with the unearthed skeletons, caused a bit of a stir. With the Prescott and Amber family trying to discredit the story, and it lining up with the testimony of others who were involved in Rachel's life, it only served to re-open previously shut cases.

Even so, with those still looking into Arcadia Bay's conspiracies, most of the world moved on from Arcadia Bay; other than James Amber dropping off the map and Rachel no longer being the poster girl for Arcadia Bays lost children; the Netflix documentary was a bust. And finally, many become more concerned with the ongoing investigation regarding a slain cop, a slain father, and two brothers who ran away from the scene.

Still, Victoria found herself drawn time and again into a correspondence with Vivian Manning. They went back and forth so much that if Victoria didn't know Manning as a friend back in Blackwell, she sure did now.

They would talk about their lives, their relationships, and the past. Even if Victoria didn't know who Manning was, despite her suspicions, she didn't mind not knowing if she was Rachel or not. Vivian spoke with a sort of confidence and assurance that convinced Victoria that she had to be someone she knew.

By that point it mattered little who exactly Vivian Manning really was; if she was somehow Rachel Amber, back from the dead, it really didn't concern Victoria anymore.

----

In late 2017, Victoria ended up sharing a bit of news to Vivian about another change in her friends lives...when Max Caulfield, became pregnant.

"Did I read correctly ?" Manning messages.

"Unlikely. I had to do a spell check." Victoria replies.

"Okay then, so whose the father ?"

"Not important. Some donor probably." Victoria writes "It's Chloe's eggs she's using though."

It takes a while for Manning to replies with a message "Well, you and Kate best keep an eye on Max then. Looks like she could use all the help she can get."

"That's the plan. Kate's plan at least." Victoria writes.

"And if it's not too much to ask...can you keep me updated ?" Vivian replies.

And so, Victoria kept Vivian Manning updated on the pregnancy.

Come March 5, 2018, when Max brought William "Bill" Caulfield Price into the world, and consented to Victoria sharing the pictures.

Vivian had only this to say.

"I wish I could meet him."

When Bill Caulfield Price entered the world, the dynamic between the girls changed. And as cliché as it would sound, it really did feel like it was for the better.

Blackwell's survivors as it would, did share a sort of bond as they healed over what happened, mostly alternating between friends and lovers, but this was the first time they felt like a family.

Out of all of them, Aunt Kate and Aunt Victoria was the closest to the new baby (besides Aunt Dana, of course). Throughout Max's pregnancy, Kate and Dana both spent the lot of their time with Max and her people, helping in any way they can.

Often to a very competitive degree. Really, really, really competitive! It was genuinely scary at times.

Victoria, she wasn't as close to helping Max, feeling that such a thing was a little intrusive - and pregnancy in general was not something Victoria was used too. Whatever help Victoria provided was rather minimal.

That all changed when Victoria was first introduced to Bill. The moment she took the chance to hold the baby, what was left of her frozen heart melted with the heat of a volcano. A feeling best described as uncontrollable fear and affection, wrapped into a ball to small to contain it, winding tighter and tighter.

And of course, there was the times Victoria was alone or thought she was alone with the baby. Nothing but raspberries, baby talk and cuddles from Aunty Vic, as much as she vehemently denies it when caught.

It was then just about everyone involved in Bill and his life agreed that he was probably worth sacrificing the lives of a city full of people for.

The world even.

Out of the babysitters, Victoria and Kate were the most available outside of any grandparents that happened to be in the area.

----

Such was the case in March 14, 2020.

Bill's mother(s) was planning a trip to visit Great Grandma Price, all the way in San Francisco. Due to reasons she's not comfortable talking about here, Bill won't be joining.

On the 14th, Bill was dropped off, with his mother giving the rundown with Kate, while Bill toddled his way to the living room already. Victoria already had his eyes on him, putting on The Loud House for the tyke.

"Okay, he will tell you that I let him have peanut butter crackers before bed. Don't believe him; we think it might be giving him nightmares."

"How bad were they ?" Kate asks.

"He has this dream that was basically the Red Wedding. Say's it's the same guy in every dream. He was putting it all in his drawing book; I don't know where the kid gets it, but it's kinda fucked up if you ask me."

"Aw, poor sweetie." Kate pouts, taking one of Bill's bags, taking his drawing book out of one of them, flipping through the pages.

He uses a black crayon usually, giving his drawings a monochrome look; other than that, his drawing skills were nothing special - he is two years old after all.

"You haven't been letting him watch Merlin, haven't you ?"

"No ? Why ?" Kate asks.

"For a two year old, he sure seems to know about King Arthur stuff. One night, he woke up screaming Mordred. And I'm wondering how the hell he knows that name." she explains, taking something from her own bag.

It was a CD case.

"Play this for him. It has the softest Disney songs I could find. It used to get him right to sleep. If he has a nightmare, you just rock him to sleep, play these songs for him. If all else fails, he sleeps in your bed."

Kate nods "That won't be a problem. My house is a nightmare free zone. Yours is probably haunted - I think I saw that one picture blink."

"You too ?"

Before she took her leave, Bill ran out the living room to hug his mother, practically jumping to wrap his little arms around her neck.

"Bye mama. I love you." He says, although being two, his voice has a bit of a babble to it, still barley managing to form words.

His mother smiles, hugs him back, and gives him the biggest wettest kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too my little cub. You're my whole goshdarn world." She says, careful to mind her potty mouth around him. "I'll see you in five days. That's five sleeps, okay ?"

"And I call you every night." Bill tries to say.

"I promise. Not a day will go by when you can't hear my voice."

----

The first night came and went without a nightmare.

Still, looking at Bill's book of drawings got the two aunts curious. Especially the stories Bill told about his drawings.

Victoria, the BBC Merlin buff of the two, had some familiarity with the King Arthur myths, but this was new.

For one thing, Arthur was a vampire; his sword drew power from the blood of it's slain; Arthur would feed blood to his court; Arthur butchering a city for reasons unknown; the presence of these two ghost looking...things, watching and following these knights. According to Bill, these things were called Merlin and Morgana (although he had trouble pronouncing the names).

Something like this, wouldn't be out of place in those Lost Chronicles books Vivian Manning wrote. She recalls one email, talking about how there were plans to adapt the King Arthur story into The Lost Chronicles; it's just the story wasn't "complete" yet.

And as it happens, Manning was reported missing back in January.

...but that had to be a coincidence.

Eventually, Kate sat Bill down in the living room for "drawing time."

"Hey there, cutie." Kate says, taking a seat at the coffee table "What are you working on ?"

"Drawings." Bill says plainly.

Victoria takes her place, at the corner of the room, careful not to disturb her nephew from his activity.

"I see..." Kate says "Do you use, other colors in your drawings ?"

Bill looks at Kate and shakes his.

"You know Bill, I used to draw in black in white all the time when I was a kid." Kate starts "When I don't know what colors to use, I use these." Kate walks to a cabinet at the rooms end, opening one drawer to take out a small stack.

"Whas that ?" Bill asks, looking at the stack curiously.

"Colored gels." Kate says, placing the colors down across the table in a reverse rainbow order "Sometimes when we take a picture, we find black and white can get a little boring; I find color brings life."

Bill picks up the red gel, holding it up the light and looking through the red item and giggling. Bill picks up the blue and looks through it as well.

"Everything changes color!" Bill gasps with a genuine astonishment, getting a laugh from both his aunts.

Victoria makes her way to the coffee table taking a seat, wanting to chime in.

"We use these sometimes when we want to colorize our photos, and give them a trippy look." Victoria says "We put red on a black and white picture, it becomes red. Same with yellow, green, and this ?" Victoria takes the red and blue gel, placing them together, letting Bill look through the purple result.

"Wow!" Bill says enthusiastically, looking and walking around the room through the purple color.

"Some people try to color old movies." Kate adds "The results are quite literally mixed."

In time, Auntie Kate was showing Bill how to apply the colors to his drawings, taking out colored markers to fill out what Bill picks.

The current drawing was a little out there, but not as disturbing as Bill's "retelling" of King Arthur's tale.

This drawing was of two women, a pair dressed in these dark, fantastical costumes, resembling crows to some extent. It looked as if one was proposing to another, and that they were on a stage.

----

It went on like this for four days.

Each night Bill wouldn't have a nightmare. Each day they would go on some sort of mid day outing - or would if it weren't for lockdowns. They'd retire to the living room, put on a movie or cartoon, and Bill would draw.

As usual, Bill would say they are of his dreams. First few drawings were decent, in-spite of how out of place it would be for Bill.

First one was of the same two girls; one they were watching a tree burn; the same girls sitting at a dinner table, one smashing a bowl through said table; the same girls riding a train.

And then Victoria was handed one drawing with Bill saying "It's you."

One look at the picture and Victoria knew what it was; that drugged tea prank Victoria tried to pull on Rachel...

But there was no way Bill, could know about it. Right ?

Victoria would watch as Bill drew in most of his drawings, when both she and Kate saw he drew something in particular - in a lot of these drawings of (who had to be) Chloe and Rachel, Bill would put in a little black bird in the background. When Bill was coloring them in, he would draw red around the bird, in the shape of a woman.

"Bill, sweetie, who is that ?" Victoria would try to ask.

"Morgana." Bill says plainly, as if his aunty just asked what color is the sky.

Victoria nods, trying to keep a calm composure as she notes that with each drawing, this Morgana seems to be getting closer and closer to the girls.

The last two days, and last eight drawings, gave both aunts a pause.

Victoria privately concluded that these women Bill draws where supposed to be Rachel Amber and Chloe Price. But besides the fact there would be little to nothing about these events Bill would have been told about, there were things he shouldn't even know about.

One such drawing, as a depiction of Rachel, Jefferson, Nathan, in the Dark Room, with the black bird looking directly over her - as well as "Morgana".
When asked how Bill knows of these people or events, he'd always reply that he simply dreamt of them.

The next and final day, Kate decided to go for something new; letting Bill listen to music while making him a lunch of peanut butter and crackers. If there was one thing Kate loved to talk about more than movie trivia and history, it was song trivia and meanings. Today, she was showing off her 70's collection

"This one is called You're the One That I Want." Kate says, putting a dish on the table before Bill "It's from a play called Grease."

Victoria took her seat beside Bill, playfully lip synching the lyrics "...And my heart is set on you/you better shape up/you better understand/to my heart I must be true..."

Once Victoria took her seat, she playfully twirls a finger through Bill's short hair. Bill shakes a little, annoyed causing Victoria to stop.

"Sorry sweetie. I just really like this soundtrack."

"Is it the grease you put in chicken ?" Bill asks, already taking a bite out of one of his crackers.

Kate takes her seat, having settled for a simple sandwich "Nah, it's this play - there was this good girl named Sandy, and bad boy named Danny."

Victoria pipes in "His last name also happens to be Zuko, but that's neither here nor there."

"They keep going back and forth in their relationship, and if viewed in modern lenses, it would seem problematic...but this was the 70's depicting the 50's, so, what are you gonna do ?" Kate shrugs.

Bill just looks on, clearly not quite getting what his aunt was talking about.

"Their car also flies in the end." Kate adds.

Aside from You're the One That I Want playing in the background, everything was quiet for a minute. The song comes to an end, another one starts to play.

Kate and Victoria don't say anything, but find themselves amused at how much Bill was getting into the beat.

Bill was kicking his little feet in the air, "dancing" and humming to the beat, as if it were a familiar lullaby. It very well possible he could have.

Kate and Victoria glance to each other and shrug; it's not out of the realm of possibility he's heard this one. It's a certified classic. And their suspicions were confirmed when Bill started to (try) singing along with the lyrics.

"Come on baby/And she had no fear/And she ran to him, then they started to fly/They looked backward and said goodbye/She had become like they are/She had taken his hand/She had become like they are..." 

Bill stops when he notices the way his aunts looking at him. As it so happens, he can be a messy eater, and had peanut butter, and cracker crumbs all over his mouth, cheeks and chin.

"What ?"

"Firstly, table manners." Victoria says, taking a napkin, reaching over to wipe Bill's face. 

"Secondly," Kate says "Bill, do you know what that song is about ?"

Bill shrugs "Not being scared of the weeper ?"

Kate chuckles, before quickly going into "Educational Aunt" mode.

"It's a love song. It's about how true love, transcends even death. Conquers it even. The last verse of the song is about-"

She stops, noticing how Bill is looking confused at her. It occurs to her that a two year old would not understand the original meaning, and context of Don't Fear the Reaper. With how it is gratuitously used in horror contexts, most grown ass adults clearly don't understand themselves.

You could put Don't Fear the Reaper in it's proper context, and the ideas behind it would go over most listeners heads.

"It's just a love song." Kate says plainly.

The rest of the day went on as normal, although Bill kind of verged onto being annoying as he kept humming and singing Blue Oyster Cult's classic.

----

Once again, he had no nightmares, but the next morning (the day his mother was to come pick him up) Victoria saw Bill sitting on his bed, in his footie pajamas, once again drawing a picture in his little book. 

Wondering if she was going to regret asking, Victoria walks into his room and takes a seat "What are you drawing now ?"

Bill looks up, holding up a drawing.

He was getting more used to working with colors; in the drawing, six girls stood side by side, holding hands - Victoria quickly recognized two of them as attempts to draw her and Kate - there was of course his mother, but the one thing that stood out was that same girl he drew during his stay; the one who had to be Rachel Amber.

Only this time she was drawn with two sharp teeth coming out her mouth, like how a little kid would draw a vampire. The floor beneath them was red, and the lines surrounded the girls were a light blue; it looked as if the blue was raining around the girls...or that the girls were glowing blue ? Victoria couldn't tell.

It was oddly, wholesome, vampire teeth being about the only unsettling thing about the picture, so Victoria smiled and said "Looks pretty. Where'd this one come from ?"

"I don't know" Bill says, with a shrug.

Victoria stops him before he starts "You haven't been dreaming about those knights again have you ?"

Bill shakes his head "Just the girl." he says pointing to the one with the fangs in his picture "I like her dreams more than the Mordred ones."

"And uh...how do you know that knights name ?"

One again Bill shrugs "They say his name in my dreams. There's Arthur, Lancelot, Percival, Galahad-"

Victoria stops him "Okay, you're going to make an English teacher very impressed one day."

"But auntie, I already know English." Bill says, in an annoyed babyish voice.

"Well, you're learning." Victoria adds with a poke on his nose "Now your mom's coming to pick you up today. She should be here after lunch, so we gotta get you up and ready before than."

Bill nods and hops off the bed to his one of his bags, picking out his clothes for the day. Behind him, Victoria was looking through his note book, looking at his drawings...they were a little more unsettling.

-----

The afternoon of that day came, along with them was Bill's mother(s).

The little tyke rans to his mother, being scooped up into a great big bear hug, talking at a fast pace about how much fun he had at his aunts while his mother nods trying to keep pace with how fast he was talking.

"I missed you too, sweetie." his mother says "I kept waking up and thinking you'd be there."

She remembers something.

"How have you've been sleeping by the way ?"

"No bad dreams." Bill says "I had better ones about-" he stops as he tries to remember what they were about "I don't know. I drew pictures though."

"Can I see them ?"

Bill's eyes widen as he remembers, "I left my book in my room!" he says, taking off like he were The Flash.

With his mom alone with his aunts, Victoria was the one who broke the ice.

"Out of curiosity, how much does Bill know about Blackwell...or Arcadia Bay for that matter ?" Victoria asks.

His mother shakes her head "I don't know, we don't really talk about it. I'm not sure he's ready to know."

"Okay, how much does he know about Rachel Amber ?" Victoria asks again.

"...I can't say I even mentioned her name to him. Why ?"

"He's been drawing his dreams, as usual." Victoria says, taking out her phone, and going to the photos app "You might want to see this."

Victoria hands the phone over, and Bill's mother flips through the photos Victoria taken from Bill's drawings.

One was of Rachel in the dark room; Rachel's body being found, with a crying Chloe over it, while Max holds her; pictures of a funeral; Arcadia Bay being wiped out by a storm.

Pictures of Rachel waking up in a crudely drawn morgue (hereafter drawn with fangs), walking through the woods; living in the city; in a hospital; on a road with three unidentified kids while a town arounds them burn. 

And finally, and most spine tingly, the woman in red that Bill calls "Morgana", holding Rachel like a puppet while a city burns around them. One of the crudely drawn towers suggests this is Seattle.

Bill's mother looks a little unsettled when she sees these, but tries to downplay it when she finds the words "I'll...talk to him about it later."

Bill returns with his notebook, ready to go, and like that the drawings were seemingly forgotten "I got everything now."

"That's great honey. Tell you what, it's been a long day, how bout we pick up some McD's on the way home ?"

"Okay!" Bill nods excitedly.

His mother looks to the other two women with a playful smile "I'd stay longer but we're burning daylight."

"Wanna skype tonight ?" Kate asks.

"Nah, you've had this little guy on your hands for five days now. You two need all the time you can get to unwind; you know, watch a movie...take a long hot bath...see where the night takes you."

Victoria nods with a smirk "Well, if you say so. Gonna missing having this one around though." She says, running a finger through Bill's hair and kissing him on the cheek.

Bill flinches away, his face red in boyish embarrassment. Kate giggles, before leaning in to give Bill a bigger, wetter, mushier kiss on the other cheek, to his further embarrassment.

"I'll get him out of your hair now. You two enjoy the rest of your evening." Bill's mother says, hoisting him up with one arm, and their bags in the other hand.

"Bye, Aunt Kate! Bye, Aunt Vicky!" Bill waves as his mother carries him to her van "I love you!"

"We love you too!" They both say in unison, waving as the van pulls out the drive way, and watches as it disappears down the street.

The two pause and look at each other as they step back into the house.

"So...what now ?" Victoria asks.

"I saw we take up her advice...just enjoy the rest of our evening." Kate says with a smirk.

-----

Kate and Victoria were laying on one of the large sofas in the living room late in the afternoon. They were cuddled up on the couch waiting for the snow flurries to pass. The winds been blowing increasingly that day and wasn't going to stop until about midnight.

That wasn't to say, they weren't content with lazing about on the couch.  They decided to spend their time watching movies together; although really it was nothing background noise.

When the familiar tune of Dies Irae from The Shining plays on their TV speakers. Stephen King movies tend to put Kate in bit of a mood.

They seen this movie and it's sequel several times since Doctor Sleep came out on DVD. At this point it was one of those movies they turn on when their home becomes too quiet. They would spend their time talking about general things, but having their nephew out of the house and being coped up for so long...well there was little to talk about.

Victoria herself was a more focused and casual girl. She was fine with re-watching the movie and sleeping the day away.

Kate, well, she wanted to do other things.

"I'll be back in a few, honey," Kate says, kissing Victoria on the temple "Popcorn awaits..."

Kate gets up from her couch with a mischievous grin she tries to hide from Victoria as she made her way out of the room. She was practically giggling as she started undressing.

Around the time Jack Torrance drove his family to the Overlook Hotel, talking about the Donner Party, Kate came back to the living room with a big bowl of popcorn in hand. Victoria's attention was caught off guard as she felt her mouth dry at the sight.

"What's the matter Tori ? Is it what I'm wearing ?" A scantily clad Kate Marsh asks, wearing nothing but a set of her bra, panties and a set of socks "Or ack thereof ?" she finishes, walking forward with a bit of a sharp swing in her hips.

If Victoria was wearing a monocle, it would have dropped. This was far from the first time Kate pulled something like this on her, and as usual, Victoria reacted like Kate just grew three other heads.

Kate giggles as she places the bowl in Victoria's arms, and flopped herself down in her lap. ”You're cute when your jaw slacks..” Kate says cutely, taking a piece of popcorn, and placing it into Victoria's dropped mouth.

Kate pressed her lips on Victoria's and felt said piece go down.

----

Later in the movie, the two were lying their sides, face to face, as they laid a blanket on the floor beneath them, arms gingerly going up and down , and Kate's leg was resting atop Victoria's. Their mouths where still on each other, either kissing on their mouths, foreheads, necks, cheeks, and breasts.

The Shining was still playing throughout.

"I love you, Kate."

Kate smiled and stroked her cheek.

"A-And I love you, Victoria."

Their movements weren't urgent, but nice and slow as they crept toward their fourth to fifth climax of their session. Their hips rolled against each other at a gingerly pace.

"I'm yours, for life. You know that, right?" Kate whispered, rubbing her hand along Victoria's cheek  "And I want you to leave your mark on me" She put her arms around Victoria and moved so she was on her back, and Victoria was (in a rare instance in their relationship) was on top.

"Most people- AH- use a wedding..." Victoria gasps out.

"We could. Oth-others use a family."

"I mean," Kate bites her lip "After having Bill around, I've been wondering about bringing a kid into our lives myself..." As Kate says this, her voice starts to take a mutedly high pitch "Ahhhh Tori!" she whispers out.

"I don't know." Victoria says "I don't know if we are ready yet. Foots acting up, you know ?"

"What are you saying ?"

"Give it a few years. Just so we are sure." Victoria says.

Victoria leans down to kiss Kate again.

"For what it's worth." Victoria says with a content sigh "A wedding would be nice."

"You think so ?"

They laid together in comfortable silence, wrapping each other around in the blanket, not caring that it was a little damp.

"I mean, yeah." Victoria nods "I do want to marry you, Kate. But-"

Victoria was interrupt when Kate wrapped her arms around her body "You only need to ask you know."

"...I'm not sure if I'm ready too." Victoria adds. 

Kate releases Victoria, looking down at here with a concerned expression. Victoria notices and corrects herself.

"When I'm ready, I want our proposal to be something special; public. Not like this." Victoria explains "I want it to extravagant, for the world to see; let them know you are mine, and I am yours."

Kate smiles and wipes her eyes. Victoria reaches up to brush Kate's cheek, wiping another tear with her thumb.

"I just want to know when it'll be safe to do it, what with everything that's been happening lately, I want to know if we'll be wearing masks going down the isle, y'know ?" Victoria finishes.

"Well, in that case," Kate says getting up from the floor, groaning at the strain of her muscles "I'll practice my I do's for now. In the meantime, I gotta take a phone break."

Kate walks up to her coffee table, intentionally putting on a little show as she bent over and picked it up her phone....

She let's out a shrill gasp at the news alert she got her phone.

"What's wrong ?"

"Turn on the TV."

Victoria gets up and does as told, flipping the TV settings to the news channel.  

The immediate heading read as such "Beaver Creek attack - sixty four confirmed dead. Missing Persons increasing."

A new anchorwoman appears on camera, in what appears to be a distressing situation, standing at a sign reading "Welcome to Beaver Creek" as several police cars surround the area. At least one police chopper is in the background, as the woman gives her statement.

"...In this developing story, we have received word that state troopers are to aid in an evacuation of civilians. By all accounts, no one is quite sure of who is an attacker or who is the victim. We are still not allowed past these parameters, but we have word that this attack apparently stopped at a local hospital in which-"

The anchorwoman flinches away as another cruiser drives past her.

"Witnesses say these, pillagers, as some called them, were attacking in the manner of predatory animals. There are currently seventeen wounded being treated for bite wounds and-" The newswoman pauses, pressing into her ear piece "We have just gotten word that one of the missing persons is one Daniel Diaz. Diaz, eleven years old, is a key witness and person of interest in multiple ongoing investigations, including the slaying of police officer Kindred Matthews, and civilian Esteban Diaz. A case that is still the source of conspiracy and controversy to this-"

Victoria mutes the TV and shakes her head "What was that one nightmare we were told about ?"

"Which one ?" Kate asks.

"You know," Victoria starts "It was in one of Bill's notebooks; vampires attacking this one town."

"Tori, those were a little kid's dreams." Kate says, placing a hand on Victoria's shoulder.

"Little kids shouldn't be having those dreams." Victoria sighs, "Besides that, do you remember those pictures Bill drew ? That girl in them ?"

"The girl you say is Rachel." Kate nods. 

"Do you remember when I was corresponding with Vivian Manning ? And how a few months ago, she went missing ?"

"Yes." Kate notes again.

"This is going to sound crazy but I think it has to do with what happened in Arcadia Bay."

"You mean ?" Kate starts, covering her mouth.

"The FBC people ?" Victoria nods "When they telling people to be quiet about what happened ? And how they found all those bodies, drained of their blood."

Victoria looks at the TV to see the news woman being told to turn her camera off, while a firing squad was appearing around a blockade set at the town's entrance. Whatever was in there, wasn't getting out. Apparently the current death toll is now at a hundred, at least.

Victoria speaks again.

"Kate, I think I know what's going on. This may, take some explaining."

Chapter Text

Beaver Creek, March 19th, 2020

"Daniel ? Daniel ?"

A door knocks as Daniel Diaz finishes packing his third bag, placing it in a corner with the other two.

"Speaking," Daniel says, just getting off his bed.

Daniel unlocks his bedroom door to find his grandmother Claire.

"I was just checking in." Claire says "Was making sure you had everything you needed."

"And more." Daniel nods with a smile, eyeing one of the bags he really hopes Claire doesn't check out.

"I heard you talking  on that pad of yours last night." Claire says "Have you been keeping up with your brother ?"

Daniel shakes his head "Uh, no, it was Finn and Cass. They've been talking about when they come visit."

Claire stifles her lip upon hearing it.

Daniel didn't really hold it against his grandmother - she wasn't homophobic as far as he could tell (when Jacob settled into Beaver Creek, she tried to help him reconcile his faith with his sexuality), but given her upbringing, Daniel figured she might not be comfortable with Sean's polyamorous relationship.

Or at least, if she was against it, she sure wasn't vocal about it.

"Ah, and what are they planning to do ?" Claire asks.

Daniel shrugs "The usual. She uh, might have a surprise for us."

"Don't you mean they ?"

"What ?"

"You said, she might have a surprise." Claire says "I thought both were coming.
"
"Oh, yeah. Uh..." Daniel thinks "Uh, Finn thinks he can get me a copy of-"

"Doesn't sound like that much a surprise if he just told you." Claire squints her eyes suspiciously.

"It was a flub." Daniel insists "It ain't that deep."

Claire sighs before nodding "Okay, if you say so...What about Sean ?"

Daniel shakes his head "Wasn't available."

It's been about four days since they last spoke, having more to do with a sleepover he's been planning with Chris.

On the other hand, Sean was probably busy too; in spite of his circumstances, Sean was able to write and publish a graphic novel that gained a small following; and it didn't take too long for people to figure out it was about the brothers' experiences.

And even besides that, Daniel knew he couldn't contact Sean all the time.
Claire nods and places her hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"And you and Chris are absolutely sure you'll be okay ?"

"For the seventh time, yes." Daniel says "You don't have to treat me like a baby, I'm twelve."

"I'm the grandma." Claire says with a bit of a teasing tone in her voice. "I decide when you stop being a baby." she adds jokingly.

Daniel rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"Whatever. Anyways, they'll be here next week. They might be getting their own room, so we don't have to worry about space or nothing."

Claire nods a final time, before taking her leave "Well, I'll be out of your hair soon. Just reminding you that Deputy Nick's down the road if you're in any trouble."

"There won't be any trouble. Promise." Daniel says with a wave.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Claire crosses her arms.

"I won't," Daniel says "Now that one is a promise."

Claire takes her leave, and Daniel sits back onto his bed, watching the sky and letting his thoughts drift back to that discussion he had with Finn and Cass. Aside from Finn offering to pick up a pirated game for him, Finn also asked if another present of his came through.

"Yeah, why ?" Daniel would answer.

"Just want to be sure you know how to use them." Finn says "I think they stopped using these back when you were a baby."

These long since discarded devices of old, were in fact VHS tapes and a VCR. The first tape was a copy of The Lion King, and came with instructions for Daniel to use in case he got confused. The other tapes were currently in a bag Daniel was going to bring with him to Chris'.

----

"You sure you couldn't get me them on DVD ?" Daniel asks.

"What kind of self respecting hipster would I be if I didn't make a hobby out of circulating tapes ? Besides, they are easier to take care of than DVD's." Finn explains "Give it a few more years, and VHS will be of more value."

"Whatever you say." Daniel shrugs.

"Now careful with those ones. These movies got me through my adolescence." Finn jokes.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Finn looks over off camera, the sound of a door closing implies that someone has stepped into the room "And that's my cue for a bathroom break." Finn says, getting up from his seat and moving off camera, while a disheveled Cassidy takes his place.

Cassidy, simply put, looks like she just got off a roller coaster, and cleaned up like she lost her lunch.

"Sorry to keep you waiting kid," Cassidy says with a sigh "Stomachs' been bothering me all morning."

"Geeze, that's rough. Is it bad or- ?" Daniel starts.

Cassidy shakes her head "Nah, it's probably something I ate," she dismissively waves her hand "McDonalds hasn't been agreeing with me lately, but that's all Finn's been picking up."

"Lucky you." Daniel rolls his eyes "I'm lucky to get a Tim's in me with how much I go out."

"It's just, I've been acting up for a few days now. I might get checked, but-" Cassidy starts, before shaking her head "Anyways, enough about me. What have you been up to ?"

Daniel shrugs "More of the same. My grandparents are keeping me out of school for a week or so - just until things blow over with what's going around. I'm going to be spending the night with Chris in the meantime. Boy's night in."

"Hmm," Cassidy smirks "By that you mean-"

"Junk Food and video games ? Yes." Daniel nods, before realizing something "That thing though...you don't think you got-"

Cassidy interrupts "It's not like that. It's just my body's a little off schedule."

"Like what, you're monthly visitor didn't stop by ?" Daniel asks, offhandedly, before he notices a look on Cassidy's face "Cass ?"

Cassidy bite her lips and her cheeks turn a dark pink as she says "I mean..." her eyes darted back and forth "Couple of weeks ago, it was just me and Sean-"

Daniel's mouth drops, but before he can say anything, Cassidy reassures him.

"B-but it's not confirmed yet!" Cassidy insists "Could be nothing I mean-"

"Does Sean know ?"

"No, and I don't want you talking to anyone about it, until I know." Cassidy says firmly.

Daniel doesn't know what to say or think for a few seconds, before he readjusts, and zips a line across his lips.

Right on time, as Finn could be heard stepping back in the room "Cass, you gotta remind me to stop picking up McD's. I don't think they make the best lunch breaks."

"What cued you in ?" Cassidy says, deadpan.

The rest of the discussion went as otherwise normal. Mostly it was Finn talking about a friend of his who can pirate movies and video games. Mainly about getting an X Box copy of a Playstation title, or making a VHS copy of Frozen.

In spite of this, there was an underlying current within Daniel about what he and Cassidy are suspecting. From what he understands, if Cassidy's suspicions are confirmed, Sean should be calling him with the good or bad news.

It's been about two days, and Daniel still hasn't got anything to confirm he's going to be an uncle in nine months.

----

Daniel's life after the border wasn't the most comfortable one. Aside from going in and out of courts throughout 2017, and 2018, he didn't have the best time adjusting after everything.

Settling in with his grandparents, and the former two slowly repairing their relationship with his mother ? That was all well and good. The hard part comes with trying to go about civilian life.

When Daniel first started going back to school, or on outings with his friends or family he'd often get these suspicious looks; police, parents, teachers you name it. It didn't take long for people to to find out he was one of the elusive Diaz brothers, running across the country - the ones suspected for the murder of a police officer.

While he didn't get as much flack over Officer Matthews' as Sean did, being a kid and all, it didn't get any easier until their story was unearthed, bit by bit by the courts and investigations. Then, the media spread their story.

Once Sean was officially cleared of Matthew's death, thanks to a little thing called forensics, and their misadventures came to light, Daniel was seen more and more as a victim and witness each day; in the end, it was the other stuff that separated the brothers.

In spite of this, Daniel was considered an essential witness by the FBI after everything was uncovered.

Pretty much, the one thing Daniel didn't have to testify for was Jonathan Merrill's trial. Aside from the lab explosion (which was ultimately blamed on a gas leak) there wasn't much Daniel could talk about that couldn't be provided by Finn, Cassidy or Jacob.

One other thing he did have to testify for was when the FBI looked into mentions of Hank Stamper's assault and kidnapping of Sean. The case ended with Hank having to wear an ankle bracelet, and the Stamper's having to make a settlement to keep  Stephen and Claire from pursuing the matter further.

The case against Lisbeth Fischer was another story. When the Fed's starting looking into her activities, Daniel spoke up of his time there, as well as Jacob speaking of some abuse he's been suffering from a therapy camp, Fischer was in an uncomfortable spotlight.

The investigations didn't start until 2019, when Daniel was starting to settle back in after the whole courts thing. Daniel has told his friends about his fears of Lisbeth coming after him, which was about the one thing that kept Daniel from completely adjusting at this point.

In spring of 2019, a bright blue jeep was seen parked off the local school yard. Ir would always drive off whenever Daniel's grandparents or Charles Eriksen showed up to pick up Daniel and Chris.

This happened for an entire school week, and concerned teachers made calls to parents and police to look into it. Nothing was made of it until about a week later.

That weekend, Jacob took Daniel, Chris and Sarah Lee out for ice cream on the weekend, and that same car was in the parking lot.

----

Daniel and Chris were sitting alone at a picnic table outside the parlor, while Jacob and Sarah were getting their cones. They were talking about this book series Chris has gotten into, "The Lost Chronicles". It was pretty much a revisionist story telling of different mythic or historic figures, revised as vampires.

"I don't get it." Daniel says, taking a lick from his cookies and cream "They were saying this Grendel guy was a vampire right ? So how does he go to that hall when he's uninvited ?"

"No," Chris groans, "He's a dhampir, pay attention to the lore!"

"I don't don't know what that is." Daniel remarks "Also, how is it that Beowulf got to grow up if you said he was turned as a boy."

"Turning," Chris says, "He started turning when he was a kid, but wasn't a full vampire until he was an adult. I can't hold your hand through this-  you just gotta read the books yourself!"

As they spoke, the jeep pulled up in the parking lot, and two people stepped out. Dressed in plain suburban clothes, they were a white man and a black woman in their early thirties. When they saw that the two boys were alone, they made their way to their table. The woman was holding a red leash.

"-and that was how he was able to fight the dragon, unarmed." Chris finishes, before he and Daniel are interrupted by the couple.

"Excuse me," the woman greets "We were walking our dog and he got loose; we were wondering if you have seen him." lifting her leash up to prove her point.

"Uh, what kind of dog is he ?" Daniel asks.

"He's a small dog," the man says "We were taking him for a walk when he got off his chain."

"We saw a husky pass by about ten minutes ago." Chris shrugs "But you want a small dog."

The woman looks like she's pretty upset "It's just, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to my baby. Do you think you can keep an eye out for us ?"

"What's his name ?" Chris asks, not the least bit cautious of the strangers, and more concerned that they could have a missing dog on their hands. Even Daniel started to get swept up, thinking back to Mushroom.

One would think that experience taught him to be weary of strangers, and to some extent it has, but Daniel was otherwise surrounded by people he could trust. They couldn't cause too much trouble, but even then a dog's life could be on the line.

"His name is Daredevil, but he answers to Darrie." The man says "And he's a husky. If you step out with us to our jeep we can show you his pictures."
Daniel and Chris look to each other, before nodding and getting out from their seats. It wasn't until they were at the door did common sense come back to Daniel.

"Wait," he says, getting Chris to stop "You said you were walking him, right ?"

"We did ?" The woman asks.

"That's why you have the leash." Daniel adds.

The man chuckles "Nothing gets past you, Holmes. Hopefully you can keep that eagle eye of yours out for Daredevil."

"Do you usually take your jeep for a walk too ?" Daniel asks.

The man chuckles again "If she's been good, but-"

"Daniel! Chris!" They are interrupted by Jacob, who was looking at the couple and pointing them out "Step away from them! Right now!"
This caused a bit of a scene as the other patrons looked at the couple and the two kids.

Chris tries to run from them, but the woman takes a hold of the back of his shirt collar and pulls him to her rather forcefully.

The man in the couple tries to calm the situation, claiming they are the boys guardians and were out on a day on the town. These fell to deaf ears, as the Hackerman's, along with Chris and Daniel were regulars at the parlor, and they were both seen entering with the Hackerman's.

The man grabs hold of Daniel's arm when a few of the patrons start to stand up. A few outside even tried to block the door.

As Daniel tries to pull away, three things happen in the confusion.

One, the ground shook a little - Beaver Creek has been getting used to these small tremors lately, nothing new. Two, the one jeep in the lot's engine burst into smoke, and it's two front tires collapsed. Three,  the man who was taking Daniel into a choke hold had his shoulder dislocated.

The official report said Daniel managed to break the arm while struggling in a fit of panic induced strength.

As her partner collapsed onto his knees in a screaming fit, and she saw her jeep collapse, the woman released Chris and was easily cornered to a wall.
Police were on the scene in minutes, looking over said scene and taking statements.

----

The short of it was, Jacob recognized these two - Gus and Lily - as employees of Lisbeth Fischer, who did work for her outside their community.

Specifically, they where the ones who took him to a conversion therapy camp, and occasionally spent time in her church. Looking into the couple's jeep, police found two guns, fish paralyzer, sleeping bags, and pictures of the boys' school...and the Reynolds house. They were otherwise packed for a long, long trip.

Despite the interrogations after their arrest, the couple refused to confess to anything or even alluded to Fischer's involvement.

And once again, Daniel was made a person of interest.

As the investigations against Fischer began, the police and FBI both took measures to ensure Daniel's protection.

Agent Flores made a point to check in on Daniel twice every week, as opposed to their previous monthly arrangement.

A police officer or two would always be on duty, watching both the Reynolds house and the Eriksen's house; it would mostly be Charles' friend Nick.

Daniel, pretty much was more "under watch" than usual.

It used to be he couldn't leave the town without a police escort watching over him; nowadays, it was whenever he left the house. And even when he stayed in the house, there were two cruisers parked down the opposite sides of the road, and would always pull up whenever someone stops their vehicle around the Reynolds' residence.

The few times Daniel was allowed to leave Beaver Creek, he would be followed and watched by a police escort of sorts. Which was fine all things considered.

Other times, Daniel's trips to Seattle were an emotional chore to get through. He spent a few weeks in the city with both his mother, and grandparents, packing the last of his things, and catching up to what he missed in school, saying goodbyes to friends from his old school.

And of course, going through the trials of both his father's death and that of Officer Matthews.

While Sean was found innocent of Matthews' death, which was declared inconclusive, it did not stop a borderline smear campaign against him for the other stuff. It was mostly pushed by the "character witness" narrative provided by Brett Foster. 

But considering the character witnesses against Brett himself, that house of cards quickly fell. Brett's own history briefly had him considered a suspect in Matthew's death, especially when fireworks and firecrackers were found in his bedroom.

The only reason he wasn't seriously considered was due to the lack of gunpowder residue on the scene, but Brett displaying an utter lack of remorse over what happened didn't do him any favors.

So, in the end, Sean would be blamed for fleeing from police and the FBI; that incident at the gas station; working for a drug dealer and that fight at the border. Sean's minority status, may or may not have influenced people's view on these crimes.

On the upside, none of this stopped Sean from writing a graphic novel and getting himself a sizable fanbase.

Nowadays, Daniel only ever returned to Seattle for special occasions, mainly his birthdays and memorial visits to his father Esteban. The 2018 trials ended with Esteban's "proper" funeral, where family and friends were allowed to pay their last respects.

As for the past seven months, little to nothing turned up in the investigations on Fischer. Now about one officer stays on duty, looking out for the Diaz and Reynolds houses.

The most that happened is several federal agents and state troopers disappeared within Nevada that were supposed to be looking into Fischer's compound. From such, that is where the government is putting most of their attention.

The point is, no such activity occurred within the Beaver Creek area, and anything from Oregon was considered minimal.

As of the past week, both Charles Eriksen and the Reynolds' couple had more immediate things to worry about. About a month or so back, Charles got a call from an insurance agency from out of town - apparently the agency has been holding back on Emily's life insurance, and he needed to look into how the Eriksen's could pursue the case.

Normally, Chris would be put under the Reynolds' watch for these out of town trips. But as it so happened, the Reynolds' had to make a visit to this hospital outside of town; a friend of theirs got into a car accident. Said friend was otherwise fine, but given her age, Claire tends to worry.

In such cases, Daniel would be spending the night at the Eriksen's. The short of it was this would be the first time Daniel and Chris would be having a sleepover, unsupervised (not counting Officer Miller, who was just down the road).

This was something their respective guardians were a little cautious about, but considering the boys were almost twelve, and there was a cop on watch, they reluctantly accepted this. On the plus side, the house that Jacob and Sarah Lee were staying at was a quarter mile away, so if there's any trouble, it's not like they couldn't have someone to check in.

Hence the presents Daniel got from Finn; VHS tapes for when he hits the big PG 13.

They were off about a year, but Finn went on to say that he and his brothers used to watch these movies when he was a kid ("And looks how good we turned out!" he'd say). Technically, Daniel was only supposed to open them when he turned thirteen, but he considered this a special occasion.

The initial collection also included The Girl Next Door and the Van Wilder duology, but Cassidy told Finn to keep those on hold. That being said, Daniel was told there was nothing in those movies Daniel would see that he hasn't whilst camping in Humboldt County.

----

After Daniel waves off his grandparents, he steps into the Eriksen's household to see Charles listing this for Chris in the house's main hall.

"...so to repeat, the generator is out back."

"I know." Chris nods.

"And if anyone calls, and it's an unknown number-" Charles starts before Chris interrupts him.

"Just let it go to voicemail." Chris nods.

"Right," Charles nods, regarding Daniel as he stands at the doorway. Charles snaps his fingers at Daniel, pointing to his shoes. Daniel quickly nods, and takes his shoes off, taking them to the shoe rack.

"I want you to be sure to call my phone every three hours to check in. Or I'll call you."  Charles says.

"What if I'm asleep ?" Chris asks.

"I saw your snack stash. That won't be an issue." Charles says with a smirk "Now, you kid's don't have too much fun now you hear. I don't want to worry over you more than I have to." Charles says, putting a coat on and picking up one of his bags "I should be back by 4:00 tomorrow, so y'know, don't wait up."

Charles opens the front door and starts to step out, when Chris says "Bye dad. Love you."

Charles briefly stops before turning around with a "You too, kid. See you tomorrow."

Now that the two boys had the house to themselves, the two looked at each other with  boyishly excited smirks.

"So..." Daniel starts.

"You got them ?"

Daniel playfully looks back and forth like a skeevy drug dealer, placing down one of his backpacks, opening it with a "Present and accounted for."

Daniel takes the bag into the kitchen and lays out the tapes on the table.

What they had on their hands was The Hot Chick; She's the Man; Mean Girls; and The New Guy.

"What about you ?." Daniel shakes his head "You got your goods ?"

Chris jabs a thumb towards the stairs in the hall before saying "Yeah, my dad found the stash though, but I guess he's cool with it."

The stash of course consists of two large soda bottles, four bags of chips, and a grocery bag of chocolate bars. They may get sick, their teeth may rot to the point they're value will drop in Tooth Fairy money, and they'd be lucky if they get a single penny for it.

But it'll be worth it.

After they took half an hour to settle in, and fix up a TV with a built in VCR in Chris' room.

As the evening rolled by, and the two boys were celebrating their first night solo, something was stirring outside of Beaver Creek.

Two pickups were spotted late in the afternoon, parked off road and in this forested area. Police were called to check for the suspicious activity. That is when the police radio started calling for backup.

When the backup arrived, they found two empty trucks, drivers drained of blood, and the first responders torn to pieces in a way too gruesome to be attributed to any animal recorded in the area.

On top of all that, multiple blood-soaked footprints made their way into the trees.

----

In a house, a quarter mile away from the Eriksen's and Reynold's respective houses, just at the edge of Beaver Creek, an eleven year old Sarah Lee Hackerman lied on her bed, flipping through her phone.

It has been about three years since she saw her parents, and several months since she heard from them. When she was nine, and she first ran away with Jacob, she didn't quite understand the truth of her situation. It took a few years for her to really accept it.

A few years ago, she would have been dead, and her parents probably would have let her die if it meant appeasing Lisbeth Fischer's demands for her life. When Daniel's trial was starting, Sarah Lee and her brother were both asked questions regarding Daniel. That's how she found out about what Lisbeth was doing.

First few months passed with Sarah Lee getting into phone calls with  her parents, monitored by Jacob of course, and as Jacob's concerned convictions showed...the Hackerman parents were still effectively loyal to Lisbeth. They kept trying to guilt them into coming back, saying that Jesus would be disappointed in them for running away.

These really upset Sarah Lee back then, especially as they became more vitriolic over time.

Jacob and Sarah Lee settled down in Beaver Creek for the dust to settle, and by the time of 2019, Jacob was eligible for being made Sarah Lee's guardian.
She remembers a discussion they had when they first settled in.

----

"Is it true what they're saying, Jacob ? All of it ?"

Jacob would hesitate to answer, but "Yes, Sarah...but mom and dad, they can't be trusted right now."

"And the Reverend Mother ? What was she doing ?"

"Remember when we were taught stranger danger ? How there is good touch, and bad touch ? Remember when I was sent to stay at that camp ?"

Sarah Lee nods.

"Well, they did some of the bad touch there so to speak." Jacob says, almost too embarrassed and upset at recalling the memories "They uh, wanted me to like girls in a way I couldn't. And they...give you bad medicine there. Remember when I told you there's good pills and bad pills ?"

Once again Sarah Lee nods "The kind that makes you sicker ?"

"Yeah, they...didn't want my brain and body to work." Jacob nods.

"What about me ?" Sarah Lee asks "Did...Fischer want me to die ? What about mom and dad ?"

Jacob shakes his head "No! Mom and dad were lied to. They just choose to believe the lies."

----

Afterwards,  Jacob has taken up work to support their new living conditions, currently working at a pharmacy. As of late, he's been working double shift for a better paygrade, leaving Sarah Lee at home alone more and more.

This evening was no exception, but on the plus side, Sarah Lee had leftovers to live on when her brother worked evenings.

School was also a decent benefit. She made fast friends, but was especially close to Daniel and Chris. At the time she settled in, she hasn't really gotten a proper education since she was seven. As with most kids, she didn't consider herself as having long term plans for the future, but did have immediate interests and passions.

In Sarah Lee's case, she took a quick fancy to books and TV; her favorite show to watch was Avatar the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra. It even gave her a bit of motive to help her brother make money.

In 2019, she started a YouTube channel, in which she would do reactions to ATLA or LOK episodes - to go with these reactions, she would use a couple of costumes she put together and make these quick skits in which she'd play Azula and Ty Lee, who she would sometimes use as part of her reactions.

She was able to raise a decent amount of money from what she was able to monetize, and had a subscriber count in the 400's.

Currently, Sarah is laying on her bed, watching her latest video; it was her reaction to The Beach episode of ATLA, in which she had her Tyzula sketch be about Azula being a comically overprotective girlfriend regarding the boys surrounding Ty Lee. She hasn't been making these videos as often lately, on account of underlying fears.

She's not a dumb kid, she follows the news. After that mishap at the ice cream parlor a year back, she knew that Daniel's fears of Lisbeth coming for him were not unfounded. And if she was coming for Daniel, who is to say she isn't coming for her and Jacob as well ?

What had her particularly on edge was the reports that several state troopers and federal investigators started disappearing in the area. As it so happens, there are reports of animals and people being found dead, or drained of blood in the rural regions of Nevada.

One particularly angry farmer, had his entire livestock butchered days ago, resulting in a pretty vitriolic meltdown when the news spoke to him; going on a xenophobic rant about a "Chupacabra" in the area while his buddy looks embarrassed in the background. The rant became an overnight meme.

You'd think something like that would be irrelevant to the issue at hand, but for the past three days, both Sarah Lee and Jacob had received what they thought were spam messages on their phones.

They were from someone calling themselves "Mr. Bean", sending them article after article of these "Chupacabra" incidents. Each one came with a picture of a different area between Nevada and Oregon.

Jacob told Sarah Lee not to worry about it, but if she was really scared, he'll see who to contact about it. In the meantime, all they had to do was block the number of this "Mr. Bean". Chances are he's just some prick trying to get a scare out of her.

...that was until this morning, when the moniker of "Mr. Bean" put a link in one of her ATLA videos, along with the words "Portland".

That scared Sarah Lee enough that she asked Jacob to call the police or someone, to do something about it.

She's been waiting all day to hear from Jacob, and just as she started thinking back to it, her phone went off to his number.

Immediately answering, Sarah Lee holds the phone up to her face "Jacob ?"

"Sarah, I need you to listen to me." Jacob says plainly, sounding a little on edge "Keep all the doors locked and don't let anyone in."

"Jacob, what's happening ?" Sarah Lee asks, getting up from her bed.

"Look, I need you to listen to me. Don't answer to anyone that isn't me. I'll be home as soon as I can." Jacob says firmly, but with a nervous edge in his indicating not all is well at the local pharmacy.

"You're not answering my question, Jacob!" Sarah Lee says, in a rare instance of her life where she'd raise her voice (at least outside of her Azula routine).

"I-I don't know." Jacob replies "I'll be home as fast as I can. We-I gotta get to Daniel and Chris, but you need to stay where you are."

Sarah Lee nods "Okay. Just hurry!"

Sarah locks every door of their small house. Peering out the front window, she got a decent view of Beaver Creek, from the hillside. Going with the fact the sun all but disappeared behind the trees, it did not bode well at all...

In the distance, where the twin hospitals are supposed to be located, she could see smoke all over the area, completely obscuring where she would usually see the hospitals.

In the town itself, several buildings were already smoking, and the distant sound of police sirens could be heard. Several police cruisers made their way into the town, and the sound of gunfire in the distance had Sarah Lee clutch her mouth.

Out of instinct, she runs to the bathroom. It was a small enough space, and had its own lock. And absolutely no windows.

Even still, it wasn't enough to quill the panic. In the back of her mind at least, she could still hear the sound of police sirens and gunfire in the town itself.
Actually, she couldn't tell if it was in her mind, or real life, but they still rang.

After what felt like ten minutes, she looked at the time on her phone to see it was a measly two. She didn't normally curse, but the "Fuck" that slipped out of her mouth just felt right.

Soon enough she heard it; banging on the front door.

Despite what Jacob told her, Sarah Lee dashed out of the bathroom towards the door to see someone out the door's window.

He was a guy in his mid twenties, blonde hair, neatly dressed, if disheveled. He was a thin, tanned, sweaty mess of a guy and he looked like he just ran out from Hell.

"P-please!" The guy says as if he were out of breath "They're all over the place! I need in ! I-"

Sarah Lee backs from the door shaking her head "I- I can't, I have to wait for my brother!"

"Please!" The guy says, pounding the door so hard, Sarah Lee was scared it would fall off its hinges "Goddammit, I think I was bitten!!"

Sarah Lee would back off further, but she was frozen like a deer in headlights.

"These dead things! I don't know what they were, but- they were eating people!! I have to come in, it's not safe out there!!!" The guy screams.
It's around here, Sarah Lee noticed the bloodstains on his clothes...his hands...and his unusually sharp teeth.

It took a few seconds before the guy noticed the way she was looking at him. A big toothy grin formed on his face.

"Well...looks like we're going to have to do this the fun way." The man backs away from the door, out of view of the glass. Sarah Lee heard a car door open and close, before an engine started, and she just knew.

She ran back, towards the stairs, and was about half way up, when she heard a loud crash; when she looked around, she saw the entire area surrounding her door was a wreck. The small deck up the doorway was smashed to bits, parts of the roof, and the surrounding walls collapsed, and there stood a reddish orange Prius, with a smoking engine and busted windshield stood in its place.

The guy staggers out,  looking as if he took the bulk of the damage from the crash. Sarah Lee was at a loss for words as he started pulling his joints and muscles back into place.

Her dread would have kept her in place, but the feeling of panic overwhelmed her. On instinct, she dashed up the stair way, hoping to a God she wasn't sure was listening towards her bedroom.

At the back of her mind, she knew this wasn't enough to hold this monster at bay. Throwing caution to the wind, Sarah Lee runs towards her bedroom window, opening in as she hears the sound of footsteps trailing behind her at the pace of Michael Myers.

It was snowy out, and dark, but fuck it. If she was fast enough, she would know where to go for safety. If she was fast enough, she could make it there in time, and outrun this...thing.

Besides, she wasn't in the right mindset to ponder whether or not it is better to be eaten alive or freeze to death.

She made this run before, albeit in better circumstances. On a good day, it would take her about seventeen minutes.

And so, Sarah Lee climbed out the window onto a snowy roof, slid her way down a storm pipe, and made her way into the woods.

She turned around, unsure of where Jacob was in all this, but she saw the man that was initially chasing her, waving at her through the window. Probably thinking it won't be worth the chase.

----

At the Eriksen House, Daniel and Chris were four movies in by the time the sun disappeared from Beaver Creek.

They started early in the afternoon, with Mean Girls, and She's the Man. They were interrupted once after they finished the latter; Officer Miller stepped in from watch duty, and informed them that something was going on in town.

"What is it ?" Daniel would ask.

"We don't know yet, but it seems like the situation is escalating. Now I'm just outside in case anything happens." Miller says "Just keep the doors locked, and stay inside somewhere safe."

"We're just watching movies in my room." Chris says.

"Okay," Miller nods "You two stay there until further notice."

The two boys nod, before returning to Chris' bedroom.

When they watched the next two movies, there was an uneasy undercurrent in the air. Sure, some of the jokes in The Hot Chick and The New Guy made them laugh, and the stories kept them otherwise attentive...but there was that cold and creepy feeling running down their backs.

Like something bad was about to happen.

They didn't hear the knocks again until part way through Van Wilder. Daniel went to answer to see Officer Miller with a shivering, Sarah Lee Hackerman standing beside him.

"What happened here ?" Daniel asks with a nervous edge in his voice.

Sarah Lee wasn't in her winter clothes, nor any proper footwear; looked like she would have died had she been out there a few minutes longer.

"She was out here alone." Miller says "Says someone has been following her."

"Okay ?..." Daniel says, not really knowing what to do or say "What do you need us to do ?"

"Just get her warmed up; try to call the ambulance." Miller says, sounding like he's trying to put on a brave front "Look, she says whoever's following her is still out there. I'm gonna check the perimeter, maybe get some back up. You three stay in, keep the doors locked, and don't answer for anyone that isn't in uniform."

Daniel snakingly nods as Miller takes his leave. He then turns his attention to Sarah Lee "Are you okay ?"

"I don't know." Sarah Lee barely manages to whisper "I'm...too cold to think."

"Alright." Daniel nods, a little more calmly "I'll...I don't know, mix you some cocoa, get you into something warm."

Sarah Lee nods and lets Daniel lead her up the stairs. As the two went up, Daniel looked over his shoulder; despite the dark sky, he could swear he saw smoke in the distance, and the orange glow of a massive blaze.

Where the rest of Beaver Creek was supposed to be.

Daniel was about to ask where Jacob was, but there was something in the pit of his stomach telling him, it's best not to ask.

As they reach Chris' bedroom, they interrupt the movie much to the blondes confusion and concern.
"Sarah ? What's-"

"She needs warm clothes." Daniel says firmly " She also needs - anything to warm up."

"Right," Chris nods, "Bathroom's to the right." he points out to the hallway "I'll see what I can find."

Sarah Lee nods and makes her way to the bathroom.

Chris stops the movie, and he and Daniel look through his closet and drawers to find the heaviest indoor clothes they can find.

During which, Chris asks "What's going on ? Is Jacob with her ?"

"I don't know," Daniel shakes his head "I was too scared to ask...but I think something's going on downtown."

"What makes-" before Chris can finish his question, he heard the sound of gunfire in the woods nearby.

One shot.

Followed by two.

A third shot.

And then nothing.

"Fuck." Chris breathes out. He's usually not one to curse, but still, it felt right.

"I think what's happening in town is coming here." Daniel says.

Chris started to fidget nervously, his skin paled at the revelation.

"I wish you hadn't told me that..."

"I think I have to do something." Daniel says, as he realizes it "Something I haven't really done in a long, long time."

"You don't mean ?"

"You feel like a hero today, Captain Spirit ?" Daniel asks, trying to sound confident. Keyword being "trying".

"We haven't played that in two years." Chris says.

"I ain't playing this time."

As Daniel says this, he reaches a hand out, and out from under Chris' bed, a baseball bat flies out, with Daniel catching the handle in his hand.

"Okay," Chris whistles "Before we do any of that...I gotta call my dad. Let him know wh-"

The sound of gunfire makes them jump, this time sounding farther away.

"You do that." Daniel nods "I've been holding this in for too long."

Daniel takes his leave from the bedroom, as Chris goes to make his call.

He stands at the front door, watching as two police cruisers drive past the house. He's seen them enough to know these are state vehicles. Daniel just needed to know what they were up against. He had a feeling this wasn't just a bank robbery or a really bad case of jaywalking.

All he knew was Sarah Lee saying that whoever chased her from her house, might still be after her. In 2018, Daniel hoisted a bully into a basketball hoop when he called her bible girl. Whoever was trying to hurt her, would be in for some shit, that was for sure.

About twenty minutes later, Chris and a newly dressed Sarah Lee descended down the stairs.
"Did you see anything ?" Chris asks.

"Just a few cars." Daniel says "No gunshots yet but..."

As he says this he sees something or someone moving through the trees, just out of reach from the lights.

He looks back at the other two and says "Okay, I'm gonna step out real quick, alright ? If I say run, you run. But you stick with me. Whatever happens, you stick with me."

The other two nod shakily, neither as used to harrowing situations as the young Diaz boy.

Daniel opens the front door and calls out "Miller ?...Miller is that you ?"

Something lands in the snow, just at the light of the porchlights; Miller, either dead or unconscious, but pooling in a crimson liquid that Daniel was sure wasn't Kool Aid.

He then saw them, the white eyes.

There had to be anywhere from twelve to twenty sets of them, making their way towards the house. It looked like something from a zombie movie. Butut these people didn't look quiet like what you expect a zombie to be like.

Some were pale sure, but not quite convincing as a walking corpse.

When they made themselves more visible, Daniel saw they weren't in the right clothes for winter.

Out of them all, a man about fifty years of age stepped forward. He was dressed in biker attire, and haggard in appearance. He has a small beard forming, and messy reddish grey hair. He regarded the boy with a grin - from which Daniel could clearly see fang like teeth.

When he spoke, he had a European accent, probably something from Scotland or Ireland.

"Daniel Diaz." The older man says, as he continues to make his way to the porch  "We have come through a lot of trouble to find you. You made a new friend of my family, very upset."

"Who ?" Daniel says trying to sound braver than he was. He has to be brave, he's been in pretty shitty situations before, and now he may have to use his powers to win a fight - probably to kill - he just wasn't sure he was prepared for this.

"You know who. As for me, well you can call me Mr. Bean; an unfortunate name, especially given that comedy show,  but you can't help what you were born with." The man says with a shrug "Come with us, and all those we killed and taken tonight won't be in vain. We can do this the easy way or the hard way; but I can assure you, it's easier for you to walk on unbroken legs."

A few other of these "people" step up beside Bean, Daniel could hear Sarah Lee gasp over his shoulder.

Daniel looks over his shoulder and asks "Which one of these is the guy that chased you ?"

With a timid hand, Sarah Lee points at the blonde, somewhat well dressed man, who spots her from behind Daniel.

"Good to know." Daniel breaths out, before reaching a hand out.

That was about the only warning they had before the sound of a tree uprooting caught their attention. The crowd widens their eyes, and turn around to see a large tree barreling towards them. The rest scatter out of the way, but the blonde stalker lets out a bloody gasp as two branches go through his chest and neck, and a third goes through his stomach.

"What sort of-" Bean starts to say, backing away.

"We weren't told he had the force!" Another can be heard shouting.

Daniel raises his hand into the air, and the tree goes up in a pendulum motion, about thirty feet into the air, before Daniel waves his hand down; the tree swings downwards, knocking about a dozen of these figures back in a single swing.

Bean manages to drop into the snow, just barely managing to dodge the tree, as he starts to crawl back.

"Swarm them!" Bean calls out.

Daniel looks down at Bean, and with another wave of his hand, Bean is caught up into the air, colliding through the windshield of Miller's cruiser.

Dozens more of these "people", emerge from the trees. Daniel lost count, but there had to be forty of them, on the Erisken and Reynolds property alone. Any other day, Daniel would have thought this was a zombie movie come to life, but these things ? They were smart, talkative, coordinated
.
Six alone runs up onto the Eriksen yard, and Daniel makes another gesture; one that sends Miller's cruiser barreling into them like a bowling ball with pins. The impact causes Bean's body to drop to the ground, twisted and broken at several bones and joints...to the kid's astonishment and horror, Bean started to get back up, breaking and twisting his joints back in a manner looking like it hurt worse than the impact.

Bean stood upright, flashing another manic grin, spitting out a couple of large, doglike teeth.

Daniel wished he could say he could do this all night, but even after all this time, he could only ever focus his power on one object at a time. If he could keep count, he'd probably say there were hundreds of these things advancing on him at once.

They were cornered; not like they could run to the Reynolds house, as the lot of them were on that property.

That is when Daniel felt Chris grab hold of his shirt collar.

"Out the back!" Chris shouts.

Daniel was in flight or fight mode at this point, and the instinct of flight took precedence. With Chris leading, and Sarah Lee between the two boys, the three kids made a mad dash to the Eriksen's back door, and out the back yard.

Sure enough they could hear them running towards and around the house, but the three stood a head a decent distance.

With nowhere else to run, they made a dash towards the fence, and into the forest line; with Daniel breaking down the fence as they ran to the trees.

----

From there it was a labyrinth of trees.

The three children would run wherever there was a clearing; left and right, left and right.

They were deeper into the woods than they usually ever went without adult supervision, the darkness and the snow obscuring thier view in a way that their spring or summer hikes never did.

And of course, they were still being chased.

Vampires. They came to that conclusion very quickly.

About fifty to eighty of them were chasing them through the trees, and each time one got close enough, or cornered them, it was a matter of Daniel flinging them back.

In more extreme cases, Daniel would uproot a tree and barrel the vampires out of the way.

They had to have been running for about an hour, and it was twenty minutes since they saw any sign of the vampires, when the three kids happened across the highway. They figured they were somewhere east, given they could see the smoke from the twin hospitals a short distance away, and the smoke from the rest of Beaver Creek an even greater distance.

As the three took a moment to process this, Daniel was haggardly catching his breath, Sarah Lee was letting out sobs that she has been holding in for a while; Chris was trying to hug and comfort the girl, but was on the edge of a breakdown himself.

Daniel thinks to himself; these two haven't really been through the same things he and Sean went through back in the day; no facing off with wild animals, dealing with people out to kill or arrest them. Being isolated in the wilderness with little to no protection, nothing.

So this is what it's like, Daniel would think to himself; it looks like now it was his turn to be Sean.

"Okay," Daniel says, catching his breath "It's gonna be okay, we just gotta come up with a plan."

"How ?" Chris says, his voice breaking a little "What can we do ? Town's on fire, vampires are all over the place; we don't know whe-"

They are interrupted when they see something flashing down the road.

It was headlights and siren lights. It was coming from the direction of the twin hospitals.

As it got closer, they could see it was an ambulance.

The three walk to the middle of the road to wave it down, shouting at the driver. But as it drew closer, they noticed blood on the cracked windshield; someone or something was on the roof of the ambulance, holding on for life.

It had to have been another vampire.

Unfortunately, the ambulance pulled to a fast stop, flinging the attacked off the roof, rolling several feet in front of the vehicle.

The three of them watch, as the ambulances' back door burst open, as someone - most likely another vampire - is thrown out the back.

Someone else hopped out after the vampire - a teenage girl or young woman by the likes of it - she was in winter clothing that made her look a little on the bulky side, but a second look would show she was pretty thin all things considered. She looked familiar enough, maybe someone from a wanted poster or news article.

She had a fire-axe in hand as she made her way down to her opponent.

One glance, one could have mistaken her for Chris' mother Emily, but there was something off about her in the second glance; their hair was different shade of blonde for one thing, and she clearly looked younger than Emily. It was almost like Emily Eriksen had a younger sister.

All this train of thought occurs when the woman brings the blade  of the axe down into her attacker's head. It was luckily dark enough that no one could really see the gore from it.

The girl holds the axe blade up, glancing at the bloody mess she made, and unconsciously licks her lips.

That's when she saw them; Daniel, Chris and Sarah Lee, looking at her with terrified expressions, while her eyes widened in a mortified expression of her own.

"Oh shit..." She says.

Then she sees the other vampire get up from behind the kids.

"Oh shit!" She exclaims.

In a flash, she dashes past the kids towards the vampire, tackling it into a wrestling grasp, biting down into the neck, deep and hard enough to loud out a loud crunch. She releases the vampire which drops to the ground in a limp, wiping blood off her mouth with her sleeve. She then turns back towards the three kids.

"You know, rule of three dictates I should say it a third time, but I don't like cursing in front of youngsters."

Daniel steps forward, raising an arm defensibly, while using the other arm to keep Chris and Sarah Lee back.

"You're one of them, aren't you ?" He asks.

The girl nods "Kinda."

"Yes or no ?"

"I'm one of them, but not one of..." She starts, pointing at the dead vampires on the ground "Them."

She tries to take a step towards them, but Daniel steps forward, still holding a hand out in a protective manner.

"Stay back! I'm warning you!" Daniel shouts.

The girl chuckles, speaking in a way that suggests she is not taking the threat serious "What, kid ? Let me guess, you're a Jedi knight or somethi- OH, FUCK!!" The girl was lifted into the air, and tossed onto the front hood of the ambulance, with a groan.

She slipped off as the hood looked caved in, and stood up on staggering legs, popping a few joints back into place in her legs, back and arm.

"I'll take that as a yes." she breathes out through gritted teeth "I'm really glad people don't have powers where I am from."

Daniel steps forward and the girl holds her own arms out in a defensive manner.

"Wait! I'm a friendly!" she loudly insists, dropping to her knees. Thinking quickly, she looks over Daniel to see Sarah Lee shaking "Your friend, she's cold isn't she ?"

Sarah Lee nods "I had a shower before we got out here. Everything happened so fast."

The girl nods, unzipping her jacket, revealing a plain T shirt beneath, tossing it in the space between them.

"It's a few sizes big...but it should do."

The three look between each other hesitantly, before Chris steps forward and picks the jacket up, taking it to Sarah Lee. As he does so, Chris looks over at the girl "You...look familiar, I think I saw you somewhere."

"I spent a few weeks at the twins," the girl says, looking over her shoulder at the smoke "It's kind of a mess back there. I wouldn't recommend going."

Taking a step forward on her knees she speaks again.

"Rachel. My name is Rachel."

The other three exchange a quick glance before addressing Rachel.

"Daniel."

"Chris."

"Sarah."

"See ? Now we're not strangers." Rachel says with a smile.

"You said you were at the twins ?" Daniel asks.

Rachel nods.

"My grandparents were supposed to be there. Visiting a friend, who got to this car accident." Daniel explains.

Rachel looks down, biting her lip before looking back up "I'm sorry, I wouldn't know if they were there. But I did see some old folks checking out with a friend - I think I heard mention of a car wreck. Probably right before the shit hit the fan. Pardon my potty mouth."

"I'll take what I can get." Daniel nods.

As they were talking, Chris looked over his shoulder and saw the headlights shining on a sign - Winston Road. The route was familiar enough that an idea popped into his head.

"Daniel, where did your grandparents say your friend lived ?"

"The cabin road ?" Daniel says.

"The what ?" Rachel asks.

"Keystone Road it's called." Chris corrects Daniel "It's basically a cabin and lodge community. One of their buildings is a retirement home."

Daniel nods as a realization comes over him "My grandparents have been spending more and more time there seeing their friend. If she's out of the hospital, they're probably looking out for her there."

The three kids look at each other, quickly agreeing to the plan, and turning to take their leave before Rachel interrupts them.

"Uh, I hate to burst your bubble, but you do realize that there's a slim chance they are actually there, right ? If they aren't, what's plan B ?"

Chris pauses to think "My dad has a cabin we go to in the summer. It's more of a guest house. The real owner is a neighbor of ours, I sometimes cut his grass during the summer."

"If you say so." Rachel says with a shrug "But how are you planning to get there ?"

"We can walk. I did something like this a few years ago." Daniel says confidently.

"How far away is it ?"

This stops them, and Chris takes a moment to answer "When my dad drives, it's an hour and a half from here."

"That's by vehicle. What about on foot ?" Rachel says.

The other three look at eachother, not saying anything.

"I thought so. Luckily, I have a solution." Rachel says, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the ambulance.

"You expect us to just trust you ?" Sarah Lee asks.

"I mean it's not like you have that much options." Rachel shrugs "You're cold, lacking proper clothing. I saved you back there, and brought with me a means of transportation. Now what kind of friendly neighborhood vampire would I be if I let you youngsters loose into the woods ?"

They glance at each other hesitantly before Rachel points to the axe she left on the ground.

"You can take it, and if anything happens on the way, you can use it however you see fit."

Chris nods, before going to retrieve the axe.

By the time they got into the ambulance, Rachel curse out as the engine won't start.

"Oh, goddammit!"

"What's wrong ?" Sarah Lee asks.

"Engine's busted." Rachel sighs, before narrowing her eyes at Daniel, "It's like something heavy was just dropped - smashed even - onto the engine. Now it's busted."

"What now ?" Chris asks.

"Back to plan A, I guess." Rachel says "It'll be risky, but I think we can make it."

"You think or you know ?" Daniel asks.

"Taking the wild animals, and possibilities of loose vampires still in these woods, it's probably a safe bet you stick with me." Rachel says before gesturing to Daniel "But at least with Anakin Skywalker here, we know we are in further safe hands."

"I never liked the prequels," Daniel shrugs "I thought I was more of a Ben Solo."

Rachel raises an eyebrow with a Seriously, him ? expression, before shrugging with "Whatever floats your boat, kid. I was always an Azula stan myself."

The four were soon enough walking their way down the road, Sarah Lee carrying a hot water bottle from the ambulance, Chris carrying the axe, Rachel carrying a fairly large bottle of an unknown liquid she keeps on her person. Daniel had on his person, a bag of rations, also from the ambulance - mostly just granola bars and boost, which they'd have to use sparingly. But he kept his eyes on Rachel.

"So uh, Rachel was it ?"

"Yeah. What's up ?" she asks.

"What exactly got you out here ?"

"Hmm ?" Rachel regards Daniel.

"It's just, I normally wouldn't think someone stealing an ambulance after spending weeks at the hospital would, be seen as normal. Especially for a vampire after a big vampire attack like this." Daniel explains.

Rachel laughs.

"It's kind of a long story. You got a minute ?"

"I think the three of us got all night." Daniel nods.

Chapter Text

March 7th, 2013

Rachel is roused from sleep and it takes her a minute to adjust her vision to see where she is.

Once her mind is clear, she sees she's in Mark's car; the radio on some 80's station and to her dismay, it was only four in the afternoon.

"Where are we ?" Rachel says with a yawn and stretch.

"Interstate 405." Jefferson says calmly "Stopped at McDonalds if you are hungry." Jefferson jabs a thumb over his shoulder to see two bags he placed behind his seat.

"You know what that's full of, right ?" Rachel says, although she still reaches for the bag.

"You know that documentary was bullshit, right ?" Jefferson says back.

Rachel notices a Sprite in the cup holders, takes it and drinks it down to un-parch her throat. She smacks her mouth a little to get that morning breath sensation out.

----

It's like two or three weeks since Rachel and Jefferson have been seeing each other like this.

It started of course, when Rachel left her phone behind in class. Jefferson found her phone and handed it back to her the next day, but told Rachel she wanted to talk about the pictures she's been taking.

When they spoke after class, Rachel thought she was gonna get an earful of the more...not safe for school images she saved of herself, and was prepared to give Mark an earful about it to save some sort of face, and how he shouldn't have gone through her phone.

She was shut up when Jefferson reminded her she should have installed a password, and that in his day, girls were hurt way more for less.

Rachel would put up an act of mortified embarrassment she's been preparing - she had no real issue with her body being put out there, but if it kept up the appearance of her being the Perfect Queen Bee of Blackwell Academy, she's been preparing for the waterworks (using memories of her late grandma helps).

To Rachel's surprise, Jefferson was nothing short of casual and understanding, expressing no judgment on his part and even gave her tips on maintaining the image of faux innocence. It was so casual and easy going, that it threw Rachel off whatever sympathy string she was gonna try to pull.

From there things escalated, or de-escalated, into a simple conversation of Rachel exploring her more secret interests, and Mark opening up a little about his own past.

For example of this was Mark having a girlfriend in college, who was obsessed with cryptids, and had a hobby of analyzing photos of them. It was something they bonded over. Mark even got some of Rachel's sympathy with a story of how he lost his girlfriend in the Pine Barrens years back, looking for The Jersey Devil.

In Rachel's case, she felt like Mark could read her like a book, the same way she reads other people. With the way Mark could see through her, Rachel felt like she could be more open to Mark in ways she couldn't be with other people. Even Chloe.

They met after class like this for days on end, before going on an unofficial movie date. They ended up seeing Warm Bodies.

It was out of town of course, but even then they tried to keep on the down low; they entered the theatres separately, paid separately, and didn't draw attention to themselves when they took their seats. The only thing that could possibly raise suspicion was the two sharing popcorn.

Their movie date ended with them leaving together, when the worst thing that could have happened, almost happened. As it turns out James and Rose Amber were seeing Killing Lincoln at the same theatre, and they spotted Rachel with Mark in the parking lot.

Rachel wasn't on speaking terms with her father, but shared a few words with her stepmom. Mark was able to spin a quick story that they happened to see each other at the same movie, and that Rachel's date walked out on her; he was just being a good teacher looking out for his students.

Something told Rachel her parents didn't buy that story, but otherwise accepted it. James, for his part, only seemed cautiously concerned towards Rachel, and advised her to be more careful with "this one".

These little "student teacher hangouts" went on for a few weeks, escalating to the point that Rachel spent  the night at Mark's condo, sleeping on his couch.

As of last week, something happened that made Rachel ditch class; that something being Sera Gearhardt being admitted to a hospital for the third time.

After three days, Mark found Rachel, lying on his bed, drunk, stoned, and Eeyore levels of depressed. Mark didn't really know what to make of it, but Rachel mentions having her friends out of town (this Chloe girl, was seeing her grandma out of town for example) and how Sera wouldn't want her to see her "like that".

Mark didn't know who Chloe was, who Sera was, or why they had Rachel in a bind, but he thought he'd throw her a little "merciful favor"...

Just for the night of course.

Two days after that, Mark reached out to a despondent Rachel, asking if she'd be interested in a trip to Portland; there was an art gallery, and he was gonna be hosting some of his more recent pictures there.

And with nothing better to do or get her thoughts off of recent events, Rachel agreed to come with.

----

The sun had set to a pinkish blue sky as Mark pulled into the parking lot. Ironically, Rachel was as far from sleep as one can be.

Mark booked them a suite at a Quality Inn; two bed rooms of course, in case Rachel wanted her space, or that she needed Mark to "get her mind off of things" during their three day stay.

Once they settled in, Rachel sat on her bed, reading a brochure for the gallery; it was something fruity sounding - "Dark Eccentricities: For When the Artist's Eye Sees in the Dark '', or something like that.

To Rachel's understanding, it was for artists to showcase some of their darker work, and an appreciation for artists who wanted to push their talent to the limit.

Rachel personally didn't see the point in it; if she wanted to see someone's edgy art, she could always go on DeviantArt. But it got her out of town, which is something Rachel could use. And it at least gave her something to do.

Speaking of something to do, Rachel looked over at the TV; The Patriot was on, and it didn't really spark her interest, but that was about the only thing on at the time. Bored out of her mind, Rachel opened the door to Jefferson's room to see he's already asleep. Careful not to wake him, Rachel slips out of the room, and to her suitcase.

She takes out a bathing suit from her suitcase, and a towel from her room's closet. She leaves behind a note saying "Out to the pool, have the key, but I'm locking the door to be safe. xoxo."

By the time Rachel reached the pool area, she saw there were two families with little kids making use of the shallow end of the pool. Rachel regarded them with a smile as she made her way to the far, deep end, settling her towel down on a chair, diving in headfirst.

Rachel kept to herself at the far end of the pool, watching as the kids splashed around and frolicked at the safer side.

It could have been about ten or fifteen minutes, when Rachel notices a four year old girl at the pool's edge; while her apparent family was watching the other kids, the girl had her hands and upper body on the pool's edge, with her feet under the surface.

The little tyke crawled alongside the pool's wall, towards the deeper end, a sight that Rachel found cute; it reminded her of someone playing Spiderman. Of course, the back of her mind had an increasing sense of concern. Her parents should be looking after her right.

Rachel swam a little closer to the kid. Not too close, but a safe distance.

"Do your parents know you're here ?" Rachel asks, trying to sound friendly, but the echo it caused caught the parents attention.

"I'm trying to swim like a big girl!" The little girl says, pretty oblivious to what she's doing.

One of the parents, a woman in her late twenties turns her attention and shrieks out "Darla!"

The girl, apparently named Darla, turned her attention to her mother and shouted back "Mommy, look! I can swim deep too!"
With that, the girl lets go of the pool wall...and goes under the surface like a rock.

"Oh fudge bucket!" Rachel gasps, but the sound was a whisper compared to the mothers screaming.

It became silent and muffled, as the four year old was now four feet deep, trying to kick her way to the surface.

Rachel dove in after Darla, grabbed the little girl's waist and swam her up to the surface, with the girl's mother standing over them at the pool's edge.
Darla let out a loud gasp for air as Rachel lifted her to her mother's hands.

"See, mommy! I can swim!" Darla says enthusiastically, but coughs between words, apparently oblivious to the peril she was just in.

"Darla Katherine Green!" The mother scolds as she holds the child close and Rachel backs away "Don't you ever sneak away like that on me again!" She turns her attention to Rachel as the girls apparent father walks rushed to his wife in concern "Thank you so much; I don't want to think about what I would have done if you-"

Rachel waves her off with a friendly smile "Think nothing of it. You probably would have dived in after her had I not been here. If anything, I saved you the trouble."

As the parents said their quick "thanks", a woman entered the pool area, clad in a black bathrobe, matching her short cut black hair, contrasting her pale skin. She watches on, not letting herself be noticed as the families exit the pool area.

One it was just her and Rachel in the room, the woman makes her way to the hot tub and climbs in.

The two don't really pay each other much mind until Rachel notices her entering a sauna. Rachel pulls her hand out the water to notice her fingers are getting wrinkly.

Deciding she's had enough of the cool, wet water, Rachel makes her way out of the pool and into the sauna. Her towel did little to keep her from shaking in the cool air, and goosebumps spread across her body.

A few minutes, maybe an hour in a hot, steaming room should fix that.

When Rachel entered the sauna room, she felt a wave of heat wash over her face, and it wasn't from the temperature. She takes with her a bag of clothes, with her phone in it.

The dark haired woman from earlier was leaning back on the top bench, looking almost as if she were asleep...and wasn't wearing her top.

Rachel let out a shrill gasp at the sight, causing the woman to perk up and glance at her. As Rachel averts her eyes, the woman quickly covers her breasts, the dark haired woman sheepishly apologizes, speaking with a British accent.

"Terribly sorry, I thought I was alone."

"No, I'm sorry." Rachel says, still looking away, but giving a quick glance as the older woman puts her top back on "I get it, sometimes a girl needs space to...breath."

"I can step out if you-"

"Nah, it's fine." Rachel reassures her, taking a seat at the far end of the sauna "You could have locked the door you know. It's what I'd do."

The two sat on opposite sides of the bench, but the awkwardness was so thick a knife would break trying to cut it. The woman speaks again.

"So, are you on vacation ?"

Rachel glances at her and replies "I think my business is my own."

"Fair enough. It's just, you're what ? Seventeen, eighteen ? Most runaways can't afford to stay in a place such as this; and seeing as you're apparently well off enough, and it's a Thursday, I doubt you'd be here on a school night."

Rachel gives a shrug and a smirk "You don't know me. For all you know, I could be playing hooky. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Is that so ? You do it often ?"

"Depends." Rachel says "About two years ago, a friend and I skipped town for a Taylor Swift concert. Personally I wanted to see Within Temptation, but that was a little beyond my allowance."

"Ah, I see you're a woman of culture as well," The woman grins "And I assume you're here to see...?" She doesn't finish the sentence, hoping that Rachel would do so for her.

"This art gallery. Here to support a friend of mine. Actually, he's more of a-" Rachel starts before she's interrupted.

"Boy toy ?"

"No, but he's a pretty cool guy. He's more of a mentor really, helping me with my own artistic vision." Rachel clarifies.

"Ah, so you're a protégé ?"

"Pretty much, it's a little under the table though." Rachel says.

"What's his name ?"

"Mark. Mark Jefferson."

"Ah yes, I know who he is." The woman slides across the bench towards Rachel, holding out her hand "Mary Reid; gallery hostess."

"Vivian Manning." Rachel answers, using a pen name she bought her pass under. Can't have people knowing that Jefferson is taking one of his students out on a little vacation, right ? "So you're the host ?"

Mary nods, leaning back as she takes a deep inhale. It may be the heat getting to her, but Rachel finds herself oddly fixated on the way Mary's chest heaves, before directing her attention to Mary's confident expression as she turns her attention to Rachel.

"That's what I said," Mary says placing both of her hands on the back of her head, as she continues to lean "I got people coming in for the gala; I'd invite them to my condo downtown, but my sister-in-law is a real neat freak and homebody, so I'm renting a room out for her. While I was waiting, I thought 'What the Hell ?' "

"I see," Rachel says, letting a small pause beat before Mary continues.

"So you're a photography artist yourself ?" Mary remarks "What kind of pictures do you take ?"

"I'm not good at taking photos myself. There's always something off with them, or something always throws me off. Last year I tried to take one of a bear cub in the woods, and it's mother turned up- that's a different story. But the short of it is I like to model."

"You model for Jefferson ? So I can expect to see your pics in my gallery ?"

"Not yet." Rachel shakes her head "Mark says I'm not ready. He wants to wait until I graduate. I had a friend take my pictures though."

"And I take it, you have them on your person; might I see them ?" Mary asks, noticing the sudden hesitance in Rachel's eyes "You don't have to show me though. Call it a critic's curiosity. Unless you're a youth still-"

"No, I turned nineteen last July." Rachel clarifies "It's just...a few people have seen me model. Besides, I'm more of a dinner and movie gal." Rachel adds, only half way joking.

"I can assure you, unless pushed, I am nothing short of professional." Mary says "But if you do not wish to, I won't push you."

"No- no, I'll show you," Rachel says, getting up towards her bag "I'm not ashamed of my body, if that's what you're insinuating, it's just I took them for one person." Rachel pauses to think for a few seconds before she says "But I could always use a professional opinion. When I become professional myself I mean."

Rachel takes her phone out of her bag and turns it on for Mary.

"No password." Mary remarks as Rachel taps the photos app.

"I can never think of one clever enough." Rachel shrugs, apparently non-chalant about sharing her more intimate photographs to an allegedly professional artist and gala hostess. Then again, Rachel saw Mary's boobs just minutes ago, so maybe this would put the universe in balance or some shit.

"And you say your name is Vivian, but your phone says Rachel." Mary remarks.

"It's a pen name." Rachel answers.

Rachel flipped through the first photo; it was of her laying on her stomach, taken from a side angle, while she faced the camera, wearing a Bigfoot Football Jersey and nothing else. Her legs kicked up along her back, with the profile of her hips and tuckus was plainly visible. Rachel had a facial expression on her face that indicated she couldn't believe she just did that.

After a few seconds, Rachel flipped to the next photo; she was standing apparently nude before a brightly lit window, with a curtain wrapped around her. It was a white curtain, and transparent enough you could just see the silhouette of Rachel's figure.

The next was of Rachel in a bathtub; overflowing with suds; she has a towel wrapped around her head, green tea getup and a cucumber slice on one eye; Rachel was taking another slice off her other eye, and had a facial expression of indignance, playing the role of someone caught with their pants down.

Next had Rachel completely in the nude, save for a pair of reading glasses and a hair bun, sitting on a chair in a dimly lit room; one of her legs was crossed over the other, covering her vagina, while her breasts were covered by the book she was holding in front of her chest.

It was a copy of The Silmarillion. She had an expression of poised dignity on her face, as she gave the camera the smallest of glances.

"Remarkable. What studio do you take ?"

"I've rented out an apartment recently. Have a friend take some of these." Rachel explains as she rubs the back of her neck "Gotta make do with what I got."

"Ah, you're quite the resourceful one." Mary says, "I have a photography studio of my own, you know. Got three condos in this city alone; one of them is where I host the gala. If I see you tomorrow, perhaps you may wish to visit ?"

"Sure," Rachel smirks.

On instinct, Rachel flips to a fifth photo, the only where she is full frontal. She was lying on a couch, wearing only a necklace with a blue - probably fake - diamond in the shape of a heart. If you've seen Titanic, you should know the exact pose Rachel is making.

Mary glances at Rachel, a little taken aback at how unabashed the girl is being to her, while Rachel looks a little proud of her body.

"I take it your friend is a Jack type ?"

Rachel pauses to think, a mirthful smile growing on her face "In a manner of speaking, yes. In a few ways actually. It's weird how we got to know each other in three days."

"Is he a photography student too ?"

Rachel shakes her head "She. And nah, she's not a student anymore. But she talked about this friend of hers who was into that kind of stuff, and told me so much about her. When I started taking these classes, my friend, Chloe, wanted to know what all the excitement was about."

Rachel flips to one; a post shower selfie with herself covering her breasts in front of a mirror; Chloe photo bombed that picture and kissed Rachel on the cheek.

"Personally, I think I work better as a model, but Chloe doesn't think that much of her own skills."

"It may not mean much of anything, but I think she's wrong. I mean, you say she takes these pictures and she's not a student any more ? I think with the right influence, she can really make something of herself." Mary explains "I always keep my eye out for up and coming artists that need a direction in life; as well as models too, if you're interested."

"I'll think about it." Rachel shrugs when she hears her phone go off.

It was a message from Mark; "I'm ordering tonight's dinner, want to know what you're up for."

"Ah, looks like I gotta take this one." Rachel says "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess. We can talk more about it then."

"Look forward to it." Mary says with a cheeky smile.

Rachel takes her bag and a bathrobe giving Mark a reply text as she exits the sauna "I wanna see what's available, I'll be up in a minute."

Once she's alone, Mary leans back on the sauna bench, letting her towel drop. She's so relaxed at this point that she was near sleep. She places both hands behind her head, almost prepared to drift off to dreamland.

For whatever reasons, her mind kept focusing on that one picture of Rachel and Chloe. Not particularly about it's content, no. Rather she was thinking of how familiar that Chloe girl looked to her. Like a face she was oh so used to seeing decades ago, disappeared since then and now has reappeared.

No matter what, Mary just couldn't get Chloe's face out of her head. She looked almost like...it couldn't be, could it ? A lot of girls looked like that. But Chloe just resembles someone she just had to know, she just couldn't put her finger on it to save her life.

"That one," the Queen's voice whispers in Mary's head "She's the one that I'll have."

"No," Mary breathes out "I'm not on your leash anymore."

"For now, but your son always will be."

----

March 8th, 2013

The gala was hosted in Mary's condo.

Specifically, it was the one she cleared out to be a studio, fittingly enough, it was a studio type apartment. Absolutely spacious place.

There were about sixty people in attendance, although Rachel probably lost count. She was just taken aback at the turn up.

It was about the biggest high class gathering cliché you could think of. Pretty nondescript. Rachel attended a few such parties in her day, and was accustomed enough that she could play wallflower just like that.

Everyone was dressed elegantly and high class, you'd think they were attending a wedding. Everyone was in the same kind of black or white suits or dresses; with the occasional blue or grey; the hostess, Mary, wore a red dress that made her stand out a little more, while Rachel's was a light blue.

Mark was setting up his exhibit, and quickly made himself at home with the other artists and attendances.

Rachel for her part just wandered around, putting all the noise in the background, from Mary's greetings speech (which Mary herself seemed phoned out of), to the music Mary played to set the scene.

As the title Dark Eccentricities implies, the art pieces, from photographs, paintings and even statues, were clearly made with edge in mind.

You've got this Navajo artist by the name of Clay Nez, who made a statue of fiber glass animal bones. His exhibit was supposedly a homage to the creatures that gave him nightmares as a kid, and he used said nightmares as an inspiration for his work.

The statues he presented were of animal skeletons built in a bipedal fashion, including cats, coyotes, owls. All dressed in human clothes and painted with these marks. Or at least they looked like skeletons; they were pretty convincing.

"Are these real bones ?" Rachel would ask Nez, as she looked over his four models.

"Of course not." Nez chuckles "All prosthetics, but had you fooled didn't I ?"

"I'll say." Rachel remarks, looking down at the cat one "These give you nightmares ? Goddamn, what kind of stories did you grow up with ?"

"Oh, honestly, it's been a while I forgot the stories myself. Really all I remember is the nightmares they gave me."

"I see," Rachel says before regarding Nez "You have a good evening, and keep up the good work."

"Same to you."

Next picture that caught her attention was clay model rooms - specifically, photographs of clay models depicting events and prisoners of the holocaust. The artist, Heshel Mintz did it as a tribute to his grandmother, the only survivor of her family when they were sent to Auschwitz.

Next exhibit was photographs of crime scenes, or accidents - staged obviously, as they were all the same model, set in different eras in history. The model's name was Vanessa Quinn, who was trying to put her work out there by taking more edgy stuff.

Rachel didn't really talk to her, as Quinn was talking to Mark about the possibility of modeling for him.

Rachel instead moved onto paintings by Ashley Martin, who Mark recommended as a former student of his.

Martin's paintings were of children in different places that would otherwise be safe and wholesome; the bedroom; the school yard and jungle gym surrounded by other kids; the classroom; a birthday party, surrounded by their families.

The constant was, there was one child, covered in blood or ash staring blankly at the viewer, while others in the pictures were oblivious to the child's apparent plight. It would be a different child for every picture, but they would always be wearing ripped or tattered clothes.

Rachel was so engrossed by these pictures, that she nearly jumped out from her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and was a little relieved when she saw it was Mary.

"Scared you, didn't I ?"

"Startled." Rachel says with a mild huff.

"I'm just glad you turned up is all." Mary says.

"I said I would." Rachel shrugs.

They're attention was caught by Ashley Martin, as she looked on at Jefferson, who was still setting up his own exhibit. Martin notices her exhibit is being looked at and steps forward to make introductions.

"Not the prettiest thing in the world I know, but at least it's real." Martin greets Rachel, Mary and four other observers who made their way to her exhibit.

"Of that I can see," Mary notes "I am also sensing an underlying theme here."

"Of course, you do." Martin nods, before addressing her audience "As you can see from these pictures, I was trying to make a statement. I'm sure a lot of us here have pretty...mixed backgrounds and upbringings. A lot of us look at things at surface level, and don't really try to look past it. Or even want to."

Rachel overheard one of the guests as a question "So, you mean to say it's a loss of innocence sort of deal, am I correct ?"

"It can be seen as that, yes." Martin nods "But what I was going for was the mask of innocence. The kind of fronts you put up to cover what scars you. A lot of us here like a pretty picture. We never want to know what's behind it. It's a front that a lot of us are familiar with I'm sure."

Before Rachel could really ponder what Martin was talking about, she felt a familiar presence make it's way behind her. She breathes in deeply and exhales - no way, was she gonna get jump scared twice in a row - when she feel's Mark Jefferson standing behind her and addressing Martin.

"You've always had that way of looking at things, Ashley." He says with the friendly greeting tone of one who knew this artist for years. Martin, for her part, froze like a deer in headlights "Always seeing the best in some people, and the worst in others."

Martin crosses her arms, and grins despite herself "That's just the way I am, Mr. Jefferson."

While Mark and Martin introduce themselves to the onlookers, telling them of their brief history as teacher and student, Mary nudges Rachel on the shoulder and gestures to her to follow.

Rachel slinks back from the crowd following Mary's lead to the drinks.

"Life can be a bitch, can't it ?" Mary breaths out "You gotta put on an act, keep up appearances for the family you were born in."

"I take it you're brother hasn't come ?" Rachel asks.

"Truth be told, I haven't heard from him in two years." Mary nods "My sister-in-law is another story, but she's a no show herself. Can't say I blame them, these kinds of gatherings can be draining when you've been doing them for as long as I have."

"I hear that. I remember when I was a kid, this club my dad was in would host these parties on special occasions. While the other kids get to play Haunted House on Halloween, or have snowball wars on what was usually the golf course, I had to play daddy's girl, sit by his side, smile and look modest." Rachel explains "I didn't mind at first, but after three years, a party becomes just another chore."

At the table, Mary nods downing one of the drinks "There's a dance club just down the block, y'know. Almost every night I'd be putting my body to work, but then you got to go to actual work. Every now and then, it feels like you're going through the motions. To be honest this was more for my family's benefit, but since they're not here, I'm wondering what's the point of setting this up ?"

"To show off other people's work ?"

"Maybe," Mary shrugs "To be honest, I'm normally one who mixes business with my pleasure. Family is a whole other deal."

"How are things though ? Between you and your brother I mean." Rachel asks.

"It's a long and complicated story, but the short of it is that things are on and off. It hasn't really been the same since my nie-" Mary stops herself before she can say anymore "As I said, it's a long and complicated story. Not one I'd tell newcomers."

Mary takes a glass and hands it to Rachel, which Rachel drinks down after hesitating for a second.

"So anyways, I said last night, that I was thinking of showing you my studio. Still up for it ?"

Rachel nods, looking back at Mark, who was still talking and socializing amongst the other guests. He can wait for now.

"Sure, let's go for it." Rachel says.

Mary smiles and takes Rachel by the hand, leading her through the apartment and to a stairway.

They walk down a narrow hallway, reaching a door, Mary opens it to reveal a spacious room; at the far end was a double king sized bed; on one corner an massive aqua tank with a background resembling the seafloor, filled with exotic fish ("Those poor fishes must get so confused." Rachel thinks to herself) - at the other was a closet no doubt filled with supplies, with a few standard sets out on display.

Mary speaks again "My business works in tandem with my sister in laws. She's sort of a big wig, you know ? Runs all these different fronts ? Perhaps you heard of the Ashbury market ?"

Rachel shakes her head, as she walks around the studio, taking in the sights "Can't say that I have; you interact with enough high profiles, you lose track of more names than you learn."

"I see; well, she has a hand in the fashion industry - I have another friend in the adult entertainment industry, so I thought I'd utilize both."

This catches Rachel's attention "You shoot porn ?"

Mary shrugs "I worked with a few professionals, but you won't find me in any videos or movies if that's what you're asking, gutter mind." Mary says, walking past Rachel and flicking her on the nose, as she made her way to a desk at the side of her bed.

"I am more interested in modelling; mostly involved in putting people's images out there. As of last summer, I made a killing in marketing swimwear for Ashbury Market." Mary pulls open a drawer, and takes out a photo album "Even took a few shots of myself."

Mary walks up to, and hands Rachel the photo album. The younger woman flips through it, seeing pictures of male and female models - some in swimwear at a beach or pool side; some in winter clothes and winter settings; you name it. Rachel even recognized a few faces and names from her not so safe for work search history.

Mary interrupts Rachel's viewings to speak further "I considered starting a mentorship program myself. Thinking of branching out to LA - that's where I hear the getting's are good. How far are you from graduation ?"

"A couple of months."

"And your friend ?"

"Chloe ?" Rachel answers "She's not in school at the moment, so she's not graduating in the foreseeable future."

"Grand," Mary smiles "I do recommend reaching out to her. If she took those pictures you showed me, she might have something in her that needs utilizing."

"Maybe, but Chloe isn't exactly for everyone." Rachel shrugs "Besides, I'm thinking of extending my mentorship with Mar- Mr. Jefferson. He's been talking about these projects he has in mind for me. Once I graduate, of course."

Speaking of, Rachel heard her phone go off.

"Looks like his exhibits are ready." Rachel sighs after checking her phone.

"Ah, so it's back to business then. Mary sighs, taking the album and setting it aside.

----

Mark's exhibit was, admittedly, a bit of a bore.

Rachel came to support him yes, but listening to him prattle on that same speech she's heard him prepare all day and all of last night.
There were seven of his photos on display.

One was of two models; a while woman dressed in black, and a black woman dressed in white. They lay upon a white floor and the picture was taken from a bird's eye view - they were curved together, lying in a circular motion; they're facial expressions looked uncomfortable, like they wanted to move but couldn't. Their position didn't look any more comfortable - it was like a human ying yang symbol.

There were three other pictures of these girls from different angles.

The next two were of an estimated eight months pregnant woman. Her face could barley be seen behind her matted hair, but she was stripped down to a bra and clutching her stomach protectively. She was a dirty blonde, estimated to be about college aged. Rachel has heard of pregnant models before, but from what Mark has told her, models that worked for him knew there was some kind of risk to it.

It didn't make sense to Rachel why someone would take a risk like that when they appear to be so close to their due date. Rachel shook the thought off - it's her body after all. But in one picture close enough to her face, Rachel could have sworn the woman was glaring.

The next two models Mark showed off in his presentation were more of the same, until Mark got to the part of his speech he didn't rehearse.

"...A lot of you may not know this, but I'm not exactly open about my family life. And to be fair, there's not much to talk about. Born in Arcadia Bay, high class background. Dad was out of the picture by the time I was seven, but my mom always encouraged my hobbies."

This got a few laughs from the guests, and Mark pauses before he continues.

"Yeah, yeah yeah. To be honest, I didn't consider myself as close to my mom when I was growing up than I did as a kid. I think it was when I went to college things sort of drifted between us. Between my early career and my girlfriend Lexxie, I was pretty distracted. I think it was 95 my mother tried reconnecting with me. And it is when I got her to take part in one of my early shoots, I felt like it was all the conclusion of all the work she has done for me."

With that, Mark presented two previously hidden photographs of an older woman - she looked to have been in her mid sixties at the time these were taken. She was thin, disheveled, sickly even. She didn't exactly have the brightest of smiles, as she was on her sickbed.

"And here we have her, Lydia Jefferson." Mark presents proudly "In many ways, she is the woman who made me who I am today, helped me find my craft so to speak, encouraged me in my early passions. Honestly, there are times where I look back and wonder what she'd think of the man her baby boy has become. I don't normally dwell on these things, but it's always a wonder to look back at your roots, and see how far you have gone. I think the lot of us have that voice in the back of our heads, you know pushing you to your goals, while also pulling you back to where you came from. I guess that's what brought me back to the Bay."

As Mark went on about his mother, how she battled lung cancer for years, and passed when he was mastering his craft, Rachel's mind was elsewhere.

Seeing this older woman, in such a state, all but directly being exploited - by her son no less! - gave Rachel a shiver, and she'd think back to her recent visits to the hospital.

How Sera was lying there, her eyes glassed over, her voice barely a whisper ("Get out Rachel..I don't want you to see me-" before being interrupted by a barrage of coughs, before then telling a nurse to "Get her out!").

Rachel made her way to the bathroom. She's not a crier, especially in public places, but she feels something coming.

Minutes later, Rachel is breathing heavily, trying to hold back her sobs, as she washes her face at the bathroom sink. She's shaking, trying to hold herself together.

"I had to be there, mom. I had too." Rachel says, her voice near inaudible as she continues breathing heavily.

She hears someone opening the door. Rachel does her best to compose herself when she sees Ashley Martin, purse in hand, step in and see her.

"Oh sorry, I-"

"No, it's okay." Rachel exhales "Just was having a moment."

"I get it," Martin says "Jefferson's work can...it can really invoke some things."

As she says this, Martin takes out a pair of cigarettes from her purse, and offers one to Rachel.

Rachel hesitates before accepting the offer. She doesn't normally smoke (Tabaco, that is) but right now she could use something to take the edge off.
After inhaling deeply, Rachel breaths out smoke as Martin takes hers in a more slow and even pace.

"I understand you were a student of his." Rachel says, trying to make conversation.

"About three years ago, yes." Martin nods, smiling cynically to herself, like she was thinking on a bitter memory she was holding back "You can say I learned a lot of what I know now, or how I see the world, thanks to him."

"Ah, so he helped you get where you are now ?" Rachel says.

"I had a few people get me where I am now, but I was going through a dark period in my life when Jefferson was teaching me. Really helped me open my eyes." Martin notes before dropping her cigarette and crushing it below her heel "How do you know him ?"

"He's mentoring me...I'm going through a rough patch myself." Rachel answers, dropping her own cigarette and likewise crushing it.

"Has he, you know, taken your pictures or anything ?" Martin asks after hesitating.

This caught Rachel off guard, but she answered truthfully "No. He says he wants to wait before we get to that.

"Look, take my advice, be careful of that one." Ashley says plainly "If he's helping you for something, it usually means that he wants something out of you. Trust me, it tests your limits."

Rachel sighs "Trust me, that's something I'm used to seeing in most people."

"If you say so..."

As Martin left the bathroom, Rachel waited a few seconds to make sure she was alone. Taking her purse off her shoulder, she opens it to pull out a balled up, unused napkin, opening it to reveal two green pills.

"One pill, makes you larger/And one pill makes you small," Rachel sang quietly to herself "And the ones that mother gives you/ don't do anything at all."

Rachel takes the pills and swallows them down. Quick and painless - she made the mistake of biting down on one of these pills before.

"Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall."

When Rachel rejoins the gala, her mind is elsewhere. She's good at hiding it, but she is currently in a blissed out fog of a mind.

Mark was droning on with some stories of his past, all but admitting to taking advantage of his mothers ailing health and the sympathy it generated for him to kickstart his career. Rachel, despite standing in the same room, several feet from Jefferson, was a million miles away for the rest of the party.

She came slowly back down to Earth when Mark told her it was time for them to leave.

As they did so, Rachel could have sworn she spotted Mary giving her a knowing smile from the crowd, and a friendly wave to go with it.

----

June 24th, 2014, Hollywood Hills

After her tour with Mordred - or as his current pseudonyms "Miles Winter" or "Gerald Wilfred" - Rachel has returned home to ponder the options he laid out for her.

Rachel walks towards her bedroom and slops down onto her bed in an exhausted heap. After a few moments, she drifted off to sleep. More of a force of habit she picked up over the past few months, and a genuine tiredness from the night.

By the time Rachel woke up the sky was a red orange color.

She was jolted awake by a missed phone call from Steph.

Rachel was ghosting her calls all of last night and the night before, and was out of excuses now that she was home.

Picking her phone up and dialing a return number, she mumbles a bit when she asks "Hey, Steph sorry to keep you waiting; was on a bit of a bender..."

"Hey Viv," Steph's voice answers. In the few phone calls they shared, Steph would call Rachel "Viv" as a sign that Cathy was with her.

"Is that about your show ?" Rachel asks "I didn't think you'd still be doing shows with your hand in the cast ?"

"It's not that," Steph says in an uncharacteristically timid and somber voice "I can't stay on the phone too long. Cath and I are going to be out of town..."

"Okay..." Rachel starts unsure of herself "And you want me to check the m-"

"No, nothing like that." Rachel could practically hear Steph shake her head insistently "Cathy and I are going to be gone for a while. She just wanted me to let you know..."

This made Rachel tense. Given what she saw/heard/learned of Cathy, she had some suspicions, but couldn't exactly connect the dots. But if her suspicions are confirmed...

Rachel practically felt her fangs start to bare as she grit her teeth at the thought.

"Where you going to go ?" Rachel asks.

"Cathy didn't say."

"How long will you be out of town ?" Rachel asks again.

"That's for Cathy to decide." Steph says in a practically monotone voice.

"Do you want me to come over ?" Rachel asks "You know, to lend a hand ?"

"No!" Steph says insistently "No, Viv. Just leave me and Cathy to it. I'll be fine. Don't worry. Please, don't worry."

"This is giving me the opposite effect, you know." Rachel says in her head before speaking out loud "Okay then...I'll see you around, Steph."

"Please Viv," Steph says "Don't worry yourself. I'll be fine...Cathy and I have to work some stuff out." She ends the call with a "Goodbye, Viv."

When the call hangs up, Rachel gets back up from her bed and paces around the house. She didn't notice she was huffing and puffing at first, and didn't know how long she was going at it until she eventually looked out the window on her balcony, and saw the sky was a dark blue.

Rachel didn't know what she was thinking or why, but she was probably letting her feelings get the better of her when she went to pick up her phone.
She was given Mordred's number - listed as "Miles Winter" and called.

"Speaking," His voice answers.

"It's me..." Rachel sighs.

"I know who it is, I have a caller ID you know." He replies "I take it you have made your decision ?"

"I still have three days, do I ?" Rachel asks.

"Indeed you do, but I doubt this is a social call. Let me advise you that it is in your best interests not to stab me in the back, if you expect me to scratch yours."

"I need a favor, we can talk about what I owe you when the time comes." Rachel says "It's...it's for a friend."

"I see." He answers.

"Can you look into someone for me ? It's just I'm looking for dirty laundry; addresses, workplaces, associates. Closet skeletons. Things like that."

"I'll see what I can find." He answers "Does this person have a name ?"

"Cathy Mortimer."

"Hmm, I may have heard that name once or twice." Mordred's voice replies "You know, I have been working with and observing multiple young girls in recent years, it's hard to keep track of them all."

"Just run that name by some of your contacts, can you do that ?" Rachel asks.

"I can, but why ?" Mordred asks "I consider myself a good boss and all that - it has been about twenty eight years since I killed one of my boys, which I consider a personal record - but of course, I am going to be owed a little more for doing this one."

"I'll do whatever you need of me." Rachel sighs "I have a friend who may be in trouble. I just want to make sure she's okay is all.

"Well, when you put it like that. I'll see what I can scrounge up. As a bonus, I will give you a week to think of your final decision, as opposed to three days. How's that sound ?" Mordred answers "Till then, don't call me, I'll call you."

----

In the days that passed, Mordred - Miles Winters - did eventually call back, and sent Rachel what he could find on Cathy Mortimer.

Daughter of a rich family from Louisiana, second generation of French parents who immigrated to America, Cathy was the kind of person in public you could look up to.

An overachiever in school, college, the ideal daughter and ideal student from such a family, and as  a grown as woman, made a habit of traveling the world and country, and share her experiences with any at all social media.

Pretty much the same way one could describe Rachel based on what is known of her publicly, which is why Rachel wanted to know more than just the surface level.

As far as skeletons in the closet go, Cathy was/is a pretty toxic person, who despite an extravagant lifestyle, likes to swing in the lower crust.

You got an incident when Cathy nearly OD'd on coke during her high school graduation, which was kept under wraps. You got a charge for animal neglect, in which a dog of hers was malnourished, that was kept under the radar.

And finally, an ex girlfriend of hers, Natalie Skinner  - reporting domestic abuse, and sexual assault against Cathy.

The charges were dropped, in part of Natalie's own delinquent history and drug habit that made her claims in-admissible, but Cathy used her social media platform to send a harassment mob onto Natalie. Last anyone heard of Natalie was that she checked herself is a psyche ward, and is currently on suicide watch.

"Well, that sounds problematic." Rachel bluntly put as she went over the information. Understatement of the decade, right ?

In public, Cathy had a mass social media platform, and the kind of girl that would flaunt her privileged background, like she was an influencer or something, especially after graduating college.

A summation of her content goes as such "You common folk go see movies for entertainment ? Bah! I see stage shows every other week."

But wait, there's more!

Turns out Cathy had a few more under crust connections she kept under wraps, such as gangsters and drug dealers she used to sleep with.

Three of which were under suspicion or investigation of sex trafficking charges. Mordred (or Wilfred in this case) found this out because one of them - a young pimp named Monty - happened to be in debt to him, and ended up spilling his secrets when the name "Cathy Mortimer" dropped.

At the time, no word on Steph herself, but a little birdie said that Cathy was using a farm house in Pinyon Pines, that Monty, three of his boys, and two of his girls are laying low in.

Bitch uses it as a vacation house, and as it happens, couldn't resist taking a sunset selfie from the house's balcony for her followers. All it took for Rachel to get there was a car ride that a certain former Arthurian Knight was willing to offer.

----

Pinyon Pines, California, June 28, 2014

The ride was long and quiet, save for the radio playing early 2000's music - as well as Mordred (or Wilfred) occasionally humming and singing softly under his breath.

Rachel's mind a thousand miles away already, looking as the California sky turned dark, and she kept the window rolled down.

Until recently, Rachel didn't consider Steph that close of a friend. She wasn't completely indifferent to Steph back in the day, but back then mostly knew her through Chloe.

At best the two hung out two or three times, but didn't make anything of it.

Sure, Rachel knew Steph had a crush on her, but c'mon; it's Rachel Amber.

As of late, Steph meant something to Rachel. A tether to her past. A reminder of a person Rachel used to be. Perhaps the kind of person Rachel could have been, had fate (and questionable life choices) not separated her from Chloe.

And as of right now, Rachel's current thoughts and feeling can be summed up by a song that was playing part way through the drive; 'I'd do anythi-i-i-ing/Just to hold you in my arms/To try to make you laugh/Cuz somehow I can't put you in the past'

It was 10:15 when they pulled off the highway down a forested dirt road.

"Are you nervous ?" Wilfred asks.

"Not really ? I thought you had a plan for attack or something." Rachel answers, finally taking her attention off the starry sky.

"This is the plan of attack, Miss Amber." Wilfred clarifies "In case you have forgotten, we are creatures of the night, and there is little damage they could do to us, in the way of mundane weapons. And in case you don't recall, I'm yet to see you in action. Besides, I can't just lead an army or crew to another siege. After Arcadia Bay, my enemies already are looking into my followers' involvement."

"That was back in October, right ? And it's not like you'd be drawing attention to yourself with a few thugs."

"My connections have connections. They will be looking into what I did to their friend, and word will reach careful enough ears. As for Arcadia Bay.." Wilfred continues before he drifts off into thought.

"What is it ?"

"Mother's other children paid the region a second visit, back in May. Not sure if you followed the news, but a new investigation has started. Point is, one of my associates was caught, now everything that happened in October and May has us under a microscope. That is why I sought you out, Rachel Amber. I need someone to hold down the fort, while I once again disappear from the area." Wilfred explains, as they come across a barbed gate, and surrounding fence.

As they approach the gates, Wilfred turns off the headlights, and the engine. "Consider this your practice run, Rachel Amber. You're barely a hunter, but people will still wish to see you harm. Especially since many now seek you out."

"B-but I'm not a killer." Rachel stammers out.

"What did you come out here to do then ? Try to reason with the ruthless criminals ? Just let the police do their jobs, when more than likely they will give them the slip, like they have for the past three years ? You've had your new teeth for a while now, Rachel, learn to use them."

Rachel says nothing, but sighs, shaking her head and before muttering to herself.

"What have I gotten myself into ?"

"If it makes you feel any better. This crew is supposed to be child traffickers." Wilfred says, catching Rachel's attention "In fact, they recently caught some attention when a sex cult they work with had a compound raided. Seven underaged girls were found pregnant, and six died in the process of-"

He stops when he sees Rachel's expression of slack jawed horror. Rachel then closes her mouth and nods, a more reserved expression on her face.

"Fuck it." Rachel says "Let's ice these fuckers."

----

It was simply a matter of going around the fence on foot, to find an opening. Especially since it was barbed wire.  It took about seven minutes till they founded a less hazardous, wooden fence. The only issue was that it was built eight feet high.

On their way, they could hear at least three men arguing, and the sound of dogs barking. Six in total.

"Alright, what do you wager we do ?" Mordred whispers when they reach a clear spot.

"I don't know," Rachel shakes her head "You can give me a boost, and I can pull you up."

"Sure," Wilfred shrugs, "If you want to go the easy way, but we can easily get spotted that way."

"Well, what do you propose ?"

Wilfred walks across the clearing, knocking on each board of the fence, before noticing one more soft and loose.

"There we go."

And without any other warning, Wilfred blisters his way through that board, stepping through the opening, with Rachel following behind him. From where they stood, the farm house could be seen fifteen acres across a field. Plenty of space and time to catch intruders.

Matter of fact, the dogs could be heard acting up. And they sound aggressive and angry.

And by the further sounds of it, they were rushing their direction.

"Oh fuck." Rachel breaths out.

Wilfred inhales deeply, before noting "I count eight dogs. German Shepard. Two Pitbull's; two Rottweilers; St Bernard; and a Siberian Husky. Eat once a day, and are on a raw meat diet."

"How can you-?"

"All male, non fixed. Keeps their aggression up." Wilfred interrupts matter of factly "You'd be surprised at what you can pull from a guy when you're cutting through his digits. Now take off your shirt."

"What!" Rachel blurts out

"Draw off your scent. You go east." Wilfred points across the field "I go towards them. Just trust me on this."

Sighing reluctantly, Rachel turns around, and lifts her shirt over her head, revealing a black bra. Rachel covers her chest, and tosses her shirt to Wilfred, who quickly wraps the sleeves around his neck like a makeshift ascot.

Wilfred gestures Rachel to run, as he walks towards the sound of the advancing dogs, with the casualness of a morning stroll.

As Rachel ran, she saw three flashlights following close behind the sound of the dogs. Keeping herself unseen and unheard, she slowly makes her way to the barn house, and watches the commotion unfold.

Once three of the dogs - the Pitbull's and one of the Rottweilers, surround Wilfred, they stop and only bark at the man before them. The others keep their distance. It's like they know what he is, and know that attacking would mean their deaths.

As their owners made their way to Wilfred, Rachel could see they did not look like stereotypical gangsters; in fact they looked closer to stereotypical frat boys.

Then again, Mark Jefferson didn't look like what you expect a serial killer to look like.

"Well, well, well; what'd you find Gordo ?" One of the thugs said, patting the Pitbull on the head.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Wilfred greets "Name's Timothy Webster. Uh, I didn't know where to go with this, but my car broke down down the ways and-"

"Did you think to call somebody ?"

"No service out here. But a friend of mine lives in the area, and I was told I stop by his place if I needed a lift. Does the name Monty Winston mean anything to you chaps."

"Monty ? The fuck do you know about Monty ? Where's he at ?"

"I saw him just this morning. In fact he's back at my place and he sent me to pick something up for him." Wilfred says "If I may-" he says, gesturing towards the farm house.

"No you may not." One of the thugs gets close to Wilfred, putting a gun under his chin "It's best you start talking, and not tell us any bullshit."

Wilfred smiles "If that's how it's gotta be."

----

Rachel did what she could to stay out of vision. The house itself had motion detecting lights around the property, but she was quick to dodge any beams she crossed. From where she stood, she could see a window upstairs.

There was Cathy Mortimer, presumably in a bathroom, brushing her teeth with a towel wrapped around her waist, paying no mind to what was outside said window.

Rachel felt her fangs bearing, and tried to think of a strategy.

As far as she knew, vampires cannot be enter a residence without the owners permission, but according to what she read up on, that only applies if the rightful owner was in the residence. Renters, squatters and burglars would be free game.

And from what Rachel was told, these people have been renting this house from some playboy in the hills.

What does Rachel do ?

If she broke in through the ground floor, she could easily be caught. She could kill the other two gangsters in the house, but if she's still not 100% she can.
Maybe Cathy though.

Whatever train of thought Rachel had was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot and the sound of dogs barking. Rachel slinks back into the darkness, as Cathy checks the noise outside the window.

Rachel could hear the sound of the two people on the ground floor; two young women by the sound of it, rush to the front door.

Whatever was happening, this was her chance.

As fast as she could move, still staying out of sight, Rachel dashed around the house to the back porch.

Thanks to heightened vampire hearing, Rachel could hear the two women arguing from the other side of the house. One of the guys made it back to the house and can be hear shouting.

"You two stay inside!"

"Bobby, what's happening ?" One of the woman says back.

"I don't know, trespassers got the gun, and he killed Gordo!"

"Where's Mick ?" Another woman asks.

"He's in the field."

"And you just left him ?"

As Rachel overheard the commotion, she tried to listen for any signs of Steph. Only thing she could hear was one of the girls - Tina apparently, tries to run into the field, calling out this Mick's name, while this Bobby fellow tries to hold her back.

But behind all that, Rachel could heard Cathy quietly, but angrily telling someone to stay quiet.

Rachel felt her fangs grit; Steph was here alright. And she doesn't know what she's been through, but whatever it is, Rachel may finally know the taste of warm blood fresh from the throat before the night is over!

Dashing her way up the stairs, Rachel listened into each room; she heard a door open, and close only to see Cathy stepping out wearing a white bath robe.

"Eeep!" Cathy let out.

"Mortimer," Rachel growls out, with eyes looking like a mother lion caught something threatening her cub.

'Vivia-"

"You can cut the crap." Rachel says, advancing on Cathy, grabbing her by the front of her robe, and pushing her to the wall. It was the first time Rachel realized she was strong enough to lift someone above her head.

"Where is she ?" Rachel growls out.

Cathy breaths become a lot calmer as she glances to the side "Took you long enough."

Rachel glances around to see one of the girls - a young Asian dressed in goth getup - holding a taser.

And with a sting on her neck, Rachel saw everything turn to black spots.

----

When Rachel came too minutes later, it took her a bit to blink the dark spots out of her vision before she could tell where she was.

It looked to be the houses dining room, Rachel herself was on the floor, and both wrists cuffed to a tables leg. Standing around her was three women, including Cathy (now wearing a black tank top, and form fitting jeans), and two of the men Wilfred went to confront in the field.

"...She's awake." One of the girls says.

"Yeah, not for long." One of the guys, and older Asian man says. He looked enough like his female counterpart, that Rachel had wagered them to be twins.

"What are we gonna do with her ?" One of you younger guys, a black man named Bobby says.

"I just said, she's not gonna be awake for long."

"We should go," The Asian woman says "Neighbors had to have heard the gunfire. If not them, someone's gonna-"

"Ain't nobody gonna call no one."

"Yes they are," Rachel finally manages to say despite her disorientation and dry mouth "You just used a double negative."

"Oh, we got ourselves a smart one do we ?" The man Rachel corrected says, standing over her with a menacing expression.

Cathy steps in between them, crouching down at Rachel's eye level.

"You got a problem, don't you ? Sticking your nose in other peoples business ? Looking around for people who don't want to be found- it's a bad habit of yours that's gonna get you into trouble." Cathy explains.

Rachel opens her mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a cough. She feels her stomach tighten inside her, the scent of blood was in the air, and her mouth was still dry.

"Your think you can help her, do you ? Truth is, I'm the only one Steph can rely on. She just needs discipline here and there." Cathy continues "Clearly, you haven't gotten enough discipline in your little life."

"What the fuck did you do to her ?" Rachel manages to say, her voice sounded more like a parched growl than she intended. That said, her throat was parched and she was genuinely angry.

And she hasn't had her fill in about seventeen hours.

Cathy gets up and smirks.

"She's grounded to her room." Cathy answers plainly "My friends here, know have plenty of experience in breaking some discipline of little, disobedient brats like her. If anything, we're spoiling her compared to the nasty shit they do to their usual girls."

Rachel had different one liners in her head to respond, but her head was a haze of negative emotions, that all Rachel could muster was a death glare.

"Of course, the toys I like to play with, end up getting broken, more often than not."

"Oh my god," Rachel groans out "You have to put on such a cartoony supervillain act ? I half expect you to twirl some mustache, singing Be Prepared."

"What can I say, Viv ?" Cathy shrugs "Hanging around you thespian types, you can be a bad influence on me."

As Cathy keeps talking, Rachel looks up at her, hearing the slow confident beat of her heart. In fact, Rachel's vision was becoming a dark haze at this point; she could see their hearts and blood streams, pumping within their bodies.

And with that, Rachel unconsciously licks her lips. Something that doesn't get past Cathy's notice.

"Holy shit," Cathy smirk and chuckles, crouching back down to Rachel's level "I've been told you're a thirsty type, but goddamn, hold yourself together!"

Contrary to the words coming from Cathy's mouth, the woman takes Rachel; by the hair an twirls it around her finger. All the while eyeing Rachel back and forth between her eyes and bra.

Cathy looks over her shoulder to see her "friends" looking away uncomfortably.

"Oh grow up, it's not like you don't watch this stuff all the time!" Cathy scoffs.

"Don't mean we enjoy it." The Asian girl says.

Cathy licks her lips and looks back to Rachel "Tell you what; I might let you off the hook, if you learn to play ball. First step is making me...a very, very happy woman."

Rachel looks to Cathy, with wide eyes and noticeably pale complexion. Almost as if she couldn't believe what she was saying, Rachel answers "What do you need me to do ?"

Cathy playfully puts her finger on her lower lip and pretends to think it over "I can get you on our bed, bring out Steph to see how well we get along now. How's that sound ?"

"Like a plan." Rachel says, monotone, looking at Cathy with an intense expression "Come her for a sec."

Cathy leans forward and was only slightly surprised when Rachel captures her mouth in a kiss.

...she was a lot more surprised when she felt Rachel's fangs bear, cutting into her gums, lips and tongue.

Cathy tries to pull back with a muffled scream, but Rachel's mouth has an iron grip. Even those thugs look taken aback at the sight of blood leaking between the two girls mouths.

When Cathy finally manages to break free from Rachel's grasp, it isn't pretty or clean. A screaming/sobbing Cathy had to be taken by the two girls, covering her mouth in a futile effort to stop the bleeding.

Rachel spits out what had to have been Cathy's lower lip and/or tongue, and began licking the bloody mess she made off her mouth.

She sighs contently, almost sounding like a hiss, before she shows off a big toothy smile, her eyes darken and she even begins to giggle silently at the frightened reactions of these thugs.

"What the- what the fuck is she ?"

"Oh fuck me, she's one of them!"

Rachel for her part could only hear the muffled versions of their screams, and with little effort, pulls her wrists apart. The cuffs snap, and with it the table collapses.

What follows is a flash of screams and panic.

One girl takes a butchers knife from the counter and lunges at Rachel. Rachel takes her wrist, snaps it and lets the knife drop into her hand. With that, Rachel sticks the knife into her attackers stomach.

Two of the guys take Rachel by the arms and try to wrestle her back, and in her blind fury, Rachel smashes both of them together.

While they are dazed, Rachel jumps onto the bigger ones necks, and bites down so hard that the guy's jugulars were torn apart. If the man wasn't dead when he hit the floor, he will be in under a minute.

Rachel turns her attention to the younger man, who starts to back away in a panic. Rachel lunges to him, taking him to the ground, with enough force the man's neck broke on impact.

Rachel looks to see the last remaining male and female of this group, the two Asians, both taking out a set of hand guns. Before a shot could be fired, Rachel dashes at the woman's arm, and redirects her aim to her twin, right as she pulls the trigger.

"Chol!" The girl, who the police report would later identify as Kimi screams as the bullet she fires grazes her twin bother's neck and he collapses to the floor.

While she's distracted, Rachel bites down into Kimi's neck and begins drinking. It's only once she's had her fill does Rachel stop and notice what she's doing.

Rachel drops Kimi to the ground. Everything is a high pitched ringing in the back of her head as she stares a thousand yards a head of her.

She tries to make sense of what she is feeling; you'd think she'd feel immediate remorse, horror, shock. If you wanted to see her in a darker light, you could argue she was supposed to feel catharsis or satisfaction.

And yet she felt...numb.

Rachel nearly jumps out of her skin to feel a hand on her shoulder.

She turns around to see Mordred, standing there with a knowing and satisfied smile.

"I knew you had it in you." Mordred says with a proud tone of voice.

"I- I-" Rachel said, finally finding her voice but still collecting her thoughts.

"Everyone doesn't know what to make of their first kill, you're nothing special." Mordred says in a calm and understanding sounding tone of voice.

Wordlessly, Rachel tries to compose herself as she staggers towards the kitchen sink, and undignifiedly began to vomit out a red mess.

Mordred looks away with an awkward expression on his face.

"Just let it all out." he says, only turning around forty second later to see Rachel was still throwing up.

After a minute or two, Rachel stops, spitting out the last of the blood, coughing a little as her eyes start to water.

"She's still here you know." Mordred says, pointing up at the roof "They have her locked up."

"And at no point, did you think about stepping in ?" Rachel asks.

"As I said; I wanted to see what you were capable of. And I gotta say, I'm impressed. Most of Mother's newborn girls attack two at a time for the first several months. You got the hang of thinks pretty quickly." Mordred once again gestures to a hallway where the stairs are plainly visible "Go. For once, I can proudly say, your Princess isn't in another castle."

Rachel nods. She takes a minute to wash off her face, and torso, noticing a black hoodie hanging off the back of one of the chairs. She puts it on and zips it up.

"What about the mess ?" Rachel say.

"I have plenty of experience sweeping these things under the rug." Mordred says.

"And the bodies ?"

"I just said, don't worry about it."

They are interrupted by the sound of sniffling. They turn around to see Cathy, still holding her bleeding mouth, pale and wide eyes as she's huddled in the corner.

"What about her ?"

"Like I said, I'll take care of it." Mordred says, gesturing Rachel to go into the hallway, as he made his way towards Cathy.

Rachel hesitantly walked into the hallway and towards the stairs.

She couldn't tell exactly what happened to Cathy, but the sound of her more panicked sobbing, a loud splatter and snap, before total silence, told Rachel all she needed to know.

Rachel silently entered the second floor, listening for all the rooms, hearing the faintest sound of breathing (or sobbing).

She follows the noise to a bedroom, presumably once belonging to Cathy and heard Steph trying to breath steadily behind a closet door.

Hesitantly, Rachel knocks and says "Steph ? Steph, it's me."

When Steph, stopped, Rachel opens the door to see Steph huddled in the corner of a spacious closet. Steph looked up with wet, bloodshot eyes.

Steph was normally cute, gorgeous even, but this Steph was a sight. She looked like she hasn't seen the sunlight in days, and barely eaten within those days. Notably, her nose appeared to have been bleeding.

"Steph ?"

"This isn't a dream, isn't it ?" Steph asks.

Rachel crouches down to Steph's eye level, taking Steph by the hand and placing it on Rachel's heart "Does it feel real ?"

It was a little dramatic of her too do, but it felt right.

"You're here." Steph breaths out, reaching forward and wrapping her one good arm around Rachel's neck.

Rachel was holding her close, expecting Steph to cry, but all the girl did was breath heavily. The two held on like a great weight was lifted off their shoulders neither particularly minding that one smelled of blooded and the other clearly hasn't bathed in days.

They didn't leave the room until the sun was up.

By then, there was no signs of Mordred himself, nor his and Rachel's killings.

----

When the girls made their way to the nearest hospital to get Steph looked over, a police report was called in. The initial report called it a viscous animal attack and seven bodies found slaughtered at the remains of a campfire just off the farm houses property.

Steph insisted to police, Rachel and the doctors looking over her that she wasn't raped. And the medical report confirmed that while Steph was severally malnourished and sleep deprived, she appeared to have no sexual trauma.

As Rachel learned, this was a tactic these traffickers would use on previous victims; isolating and starving them to compliance, keeping them awake through drugs to amplify any stress they have.

The conclusion was that Cathy was subjecting Steph to this in an attempt to keep her in line.

Cathy's affiliation with these traffickers wasn't known until she was identified among the bodies found off the property. By the reports, the bodies were in a state that quote "Was like a mountain lion and a pack of coyotes fought over the remains."

These traffickers had a bit of a history to them as well. Apparently they were suspected in the disappearance of a twelve year old and two fourteen year old girls, whose were later discovered as victims of Mark Jefferson ("Small world," Rachel thought cynically).

When the farm house was looked over, apparently these traffickers had a religious motivation for some of their work, calling themselves the Children of the King Below, behind their families backs; getting their name out of worshiping the aforementioned entity.

Of course, no one the worship or possible existence of the King Below seriously, right ?

But in either case, any conflict or guilt Rachel had over killing these pricks evaporated. Same with whatever grief Steph may have had for Cathy.

As far as Cathy's affiliation goes, she knew of their practices at least, and frequently bought drugs from the group.

Rachel rarely if ever left Steph's bedside for her stay at the hospital. It was uneventful, and Steph barely talked.  She'd mostly sleep, start to have a nightmare, and wake up to see Rachel patiently looking over her, reassuring her each time before she'd go back to sleep.

When it came to Cathy, Steph really didn't want to talk about it. In fact, the most talking she did do was over the phone. Steph took the time to try to reach out to her parents. Or at least her dad, and by the sound of it, Mrs. Conservative was still in the picture.

Rachel mostly spoke to Steph in her sleep; she'd tell her the same vampire versions of ancient myths she learned of over the past several months. From the tales of King Arthur to Beowulf, the apparent true story of Dracula, and of course, Carmilla.

Even if Steph couldn't hear any of it, the stories seemed to put her at ease. Maybe it was Rachel's presence and voice that kept the nightmares at bay.

----

Four days into their stay, Steph's father and stepmom made a stop at the hospital. Since Mr. Gringrich at least knew who Rachel was, Rachel herself took this as her cue to stay out of sight or mind. Can't have too many people who recognize her see her out and about.

Keeping a hoodie on, and hood over her head, Rachel made her way to a café area to see another unfortunately familiar face; Mordred, in his "Miles Winters" guise.

He waved Rachel over to his seat.

"Looks like you and your friend are out of the woods," He says as Rachel takes a seat across from him.

"For now." Rachel adds and nods, taking her hood off.

"Yeah, I'd say your luck is about starting to run out." Miles says "I really don't want to see your talent and new life wasted, you know ? Really come to like you over the time I spent with you."

"So what do you need me to do ?" Rachel asks.

"What you came here to do ?" Miles answers, but inflections rise to sound like he's asking something "Have you forgotten your end of the bargain ?"

"I haven't," Rachel shakes her head "But out of curiosity, what do I get if I say no ?"

"As I said before, you accept our terms, you will have a great hand in tearing the old corrupt world asunder, and building anew. Fix what is broken." Miles shrugs "Refuse, and not only do you die, but those who know who you are, which is mercifully a short list."

"Steph ?"

"I say the word, and the official story was she commits suicide by overdose, and your body will ashes cast off into the sea." Miles says plainly.

Rachel pauses and breaths in before nodding yet again "Fine, I'll do what you need of me."

"That's a good sport. All I need you to do, is hold down the fort for Miles Winters and Gerald Wilfred. You know both games and how to play them, and if you don't I have friends in both industries that can show you the way. If anything you need to be an overseer. I'll send you the emails if you need to go over anything else."

"What, that's it ?" Rachel asks.

"What's it ?"

"I feel there's something you're keeping from me." Rachel says.

Miles hesitates before he answers in a low whispered hush "Some friends of mine ? They don't recall Steph's involvement in this-"

"What's that got to do with-?"

"My contact in the FBC ? We tried keeping tabs on Steph; see if she was too much of a threat to your stay, but for the life of me, there are it's like the records of her being in the city keep appearing and disappearing." Miles explains "One letter says she's a stage actress one day, the next day it disappears and reappears. One note says she is living her in LA with Cathy Mortimer, another note mentions her in connection to an Alex Chen, living out in this place called Haven Springs, but it just get's weirder from there. None of these notes exist at the same time."

"Okay ? How does it get-" Rachel asks.

"Those notes say she was living there in 2019. Five years from now. Not a peep about LA." Miles says.

"How does that work ?" Rachel asks, a little in disbelief, but considering she is a vampire talking to a legendary former knight, she supposes she can suspend her disbelief a little.

"I can't wrap my head around it. Perhaps there are things even beyond my Mother. That Monty guy tried running his mouth to me about his King Below, before I stapled his tongue to the roof of his mouth, so maybe he's onto something there." Miles once again shrugs "All I'm saying is, keep a close and careful watch of this one; my foot falls asleep every time something is up, and the more I look into Steph Gingrich, the more I miss the sensation in my feet."

With that, Miles Winters, Gerald Wilfred, Mordred the bastard son of Arthur, get's up from his seat and takes his leave with "You look after yourself Miss Manning; I'll see you around."

Once he's gone, Rachel sits alone at her table, head on her forehead trying to collect her thoughts.

Rachel quickly tried to calm and rationalize to herself that even if Steph wasn't supposed to be here, technically neither was she. And it doesn't matter; what does matter is that Steph is here now.

----

In time, Rachel was lurking around the hallway near Steph's room, not letting herself be seen or noticed.

But honestly she was very tempted to reveal herself with the way Steph's step mom was going about. Give her a pain in the neck she'll never, ever forget.

The short of it was, according to Steph's stepmother, Steph brought this on herself with the life style she was living; and that there was no such thing as a healthy lesbian relationship, and blah blah blah.

On the side of Steph's father, he either didn't have it in him to stand up for his daughter, or gradually became too used to his wife to give a shit at this point.

Luckily, Steph was the one being angry for both of them.

Angry Steph was Scary Steph.

There aren't any words that can give it a good description - imagine if you will a young woman who has been traumatized or victimized, and people acting like they are the problem, to the point that more people are willing to side with an abuser than the victim, especially when the victim lashes out. It's an ugly scene.

And in the mist of their arguments, Steph said something that got her stepmother having to be dragged out by security, cursing up a storm, while a humbled Mr. Gingrich follows behind.

Honestly, Rachel was scared to re-enter the room with Steph in this stage. It had to be the first time Rachel saw Steph cry.

And despite Rachel's initial hesitance and fear, when Steph saw her, Rachel confidently stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the sobbing young woman.

It seemed like Rachel would be getting used to this, and honestly, she could. They both could use it right about now.

...especially when, unaware to either of them, the being discussed earlier stands at the foot of the bed, seeing into their world, from his own. Maybe Mordred is right, and there are things beyond even his so-called Mother.

----

In the weeks that followed, Steph Gingrich was out of hospital and was now a resident of Rachel's guest room.

She spent the first week or so, completely bed ridden. No way she could go back to the Hilton, too many memories there, and the place was rented out under Cathy's name.

And in a phone call Rachel overheard, Steph made it clear, in no uncertain terms that as long as her dad's girlfriend is still living with the family, she doesn't want to be in the same house with them.

Steph either took what happened to Cathy relatively well, or was just really, really good at hiding her angst. She mostly sat around, watched TV, with Rachel tending to her needs as Steph's wrist get's better. More often than not, Rachel would just pick up groceries or take out.

Rachel even tried her hand at cooking for Steph. She was no Joyce Price, but six out of ten of her pancakes didn't burn.

In the time they spent together, both Rachel and Steph came to the conclusion they were now girlfriends on week three. Steph was starting to get a little more outgoing, and the two where cuddling on the couch for a Lord of the Rings marathon.

The Two Towers at least marked the first time they kissed.

It was of course during Aragon and Arwen's kissing scene, when Rachel noticed how intently Steph was watching the scene, laying her head on Rachel's chest.

Rachel honestly couldn't believe what she was saying when she said "Steph ?"

"Sup ?" she asks.

"Can I- ?" Rachel starts before hesitating "Can I do something for you, if that's okay ?"

"You can say it." Steph says stiffing back a little laugh.

"I just don't want to take advantage of anything."

"Then let me," Steph says, before turning her head up, and taking Rachel's mouth into hers.

Rachel must have counted twelve Mississippi's before the kiss broke. She was staring off into space, causing Steph to giggle.

"I think you were more nervous about it than me." Steph says, cupping Rachel on the cheek.

Steph kisses Rachel again, twice on the cheeks, and a third time on the mouth.

Getting her brain functioning again, Rachel grins down at her.

The way Steph's eyes widen, Rachel might have been worried that her fangs shown, but that immediately went out the window when Rachel kisses Steph again, laying her down on the couch.

"I'll show you nervous." Rachel breaths out, rubbing her nose to Steph's.

The two kissed like this for minutes on end, letting their hands do the talking as they roam up and down eachother's clothed bodies. In the middle of it, Rachel climbed up on top of Steph.

Rachel began to slowly, gently, move back and forth, pressing her center between Steph's panted legs.

Steph bit her lip at the realization of what Rachel was doing, and Rachel felt a mischievous smirk form on her lips.

It certainly felt a little awkward, especially with clothes getting in the way, but Rachel seemed to know what she was doing. They still managed to get that tingly feely running down south either way, before Rachel stops.

While Steph had no way of knowing this, Rachel could hear Steph's heart racing. Steph must be really good at covering up her sense of panic, cuz Rachel could practically see Steph's heart was about to bounce out of her chest.

"W-wait!" Rachel says before pulling away and climbing off of Steph.

"What's wrong ? Is it something I did ?"

"No - no. It's not that," Rachel shakes her head "I'm sorry - I didn't want to take advantage or anything-"

"But Rachel-" Steph starts.

"I just don't think either of us are ready...if that make sense." Rachel tries to clarify, hoping Steph could understand, but the way Steph's heart slows tells Rachel she does.

The two take their seats, facing away from each other for a minute before Steph says "Is it okay, if we still...hold each other ?"

"If you want." Rachel nods, and the two resume their previous cuddling position.

They are mostly silent for the bulk of their watch. It wasn't until they were on Return of the King, and Eowyn kills the Witch King before Steph kisses Rachel rather passively.

Rachel let's Steph get her tongue in, letting it move around her mouth, before Steph felt something graze her tongue and pull back.

"Ow!" Steph says in a muffled voice, covering her mouth.

Rachel began to frantically apologize and reach for her shoulders "Sorry! I am so sorry! I got a little two excited and-"

"It's cool," Steph says, sticking her tongue out a little to look at it, noticing the smallest amount of blood "Eh oh. 'hat 'osen't look gd" ("Uh oh. That doesn't look good.")

Steph puts her tongue back in and says "Lemme get a drink."

Steph got up from the couch, and made her way to the kitchen to get something to wash her blood down, maybe sooth her tongue.

As soon as Rachel realized what Steph was about to see, this being the first time in her stay the girl opened her fridge, she lets out a "No wait-" before Steph yelps and jumps back.

In the fridges open door, beside the usual food and drink, was four, full, blood bags.

Steph looks at Rachel with a mortified expression on her face; Steph herself says nothing, but her eyes say "Well ? Out with it!"

"It's- it's fake blood." Rachel stammers out lying through her teeth "I'm holding it for a project. Special effects you know. ?"

Steph raises her hand to silence her, reaches into the fridge to take out a picture of water, takes it too a cupboard to pour herself a glass before drinking it down.

"Look, you do you Rae, but a little warning would be cool, you know ?" Steph says as she puts the picture back, shuts the fridge and makes her way back to the couch.

Other than that, the two girls day were uneventful.

----

As Mordred previously promised, Rachel was reached out to by associates of Miles Winter and Gerald Wilfred.

Or "officially" speaking, Vivian Manning was reached out to pick up Miles' load, and Scarlet Rivers was called upon to take Wilfred's load.

As Vivian Manning, Rachel's work was pretty mundane. At least as far as being mundane you can get for someone on LA's upper crust.

Manning had connections in the modeling industry, and porn industry. In turn that gave her smaller connections to a few actors and singers.

At work, Rachel would mostly just interview and sign contracts with a few up and coming models and actresses; sometimes she'd oversee a few porn segments get shot. In turn, she'd attend a few parties and find herself making small connections to more mainstream stars.

For example, a week into Manning's gig, she met Victoria Justice at a party and even got her autograph, even wished her luck and how that stupid meme surrounding her would die out eventually. By late August, Rachel (as Manning) got to shake hands with seven A list and B list singers and actors/actresses; got their autographs, pictures taken, etc.

As Scarlet Rivers, Rachel's hands gotten a little more dirty. Most of the time, she'd have to attend the fight clubs Mordred was running and collect the winnings.

One good thing to say about that was it gave her plenty of accounting experience. In more grittier times, Rachel would have to play loan shark, usually accompanied by two or three thugs, as she finds herself better at acting tough and intimidating than she actually is.

There was of course, a few drug deals, and drug production she had to oversee. The less she said about them the better.

It wasn't until late August, Steph started asking the difficult questions.

Rachel returned home the evening of August 27, ready to gush to Steph about a chance encounter she had with Elizabeth Gilles, when she saw Steph sitting at their dinner room table, looking over the books Rachel had in her bedroom.

"So, I take it you were shooting a vampire based porno or something ?" Steph asks, putting aside a text regarding Dracula.

Rachel sighs and takes her seat across the table from Steph.

"Honey, I can explain."

"Can you do so without stuttering ?" Steph asks.

"I-" Rachel starts, glancing to the side and scratching her ear.

"Or that ?" Steph adds.

Rachel sighs deeply, again, getting up from her seat and walking around the table to Steph and putting her hands on her shoulders.

"I have been wanting to tell you the truth for a long, long time, Steph. It's been weighing me down for a while now, but I don't know how to say the words without sounding crazy or freaking you out." Rachel says, making Steph look her in the eye.

"Last I checked, it only takes four," Steph says, holding out one hand and counting four fingers with the other "You. Are. A. Vampire."

There's a pregnant pause as Rachel drops her jaw, barely hiding the fact her fangs are out.

"You knew." Rachel finally musters out.

Steph snakingly nods, but maintains eye contact "I had my suspicions for a while."

Once again, Steph begins counting her fingers.

"That vampire paraphernalia in your closet, the texts you're keeping at your bedside-" Steph starts listing.

"You went through that ?"

"I ran out of books to read, okay ?" Steph snarks "Plus what happened to Cathy and those traffickers, the very night you found me was too convenient to be some mountain lion or coyote attack. Plus, you know, I had a feeling, smelled the blood off your breath. Then last night, I saw you drinking from those bags. It all sort of clicked."

Rachel once again stands silent with a slack jawed expression.

"And don't forget, I keep getting poked by these things." Steph said, reaching out to touch one of Rachel's fangs.

Rachel steps back before she finally says "And- and you're not freaking out ?"

"I'm a little on edge," Steph nods and shrugs "But after Cathy, this feels more like a cake walk. I try to keep an open mind about these things, you know ?" Steph stands up, taking Rachel by the shoulders and says "But Rachel, if we are going to make this work, I need you to be a little more honest with me."

"What do you-?"

"Just lay everything out. I want to make sure you aren't a man-eater or something."

And with that Rachel conceded.

The two spent the evening with Rachel going over everything; from the truth about her death, her awakening in the morgue; the cabal that brought her here, and their worship of a dark goddess.

While she didn't bring up the bit of Rachel being a "Maiden for the Vampire Apocalypse", she did elude to the existence of the Red Queen, her and her followers apparent activity in Arcadia Bay, and the apparent debt she owed these people.

Rachel also left out the part about Mordred, and how all this dates back to King Freaking Arthur Pendragon.

That might have been a little much for Steph to take in all at once.

But when all is said in done, Steph seemed to take it in stride, only being taken aback regarding Arcadia Bay.

"So...the vampires were behind-" Steph tries to say before Rachel corrects her.

"I don't know. Not directly at least." Rachel shakes her head "As far as everything's concerned, Mark Jefferson and Sean Prescott are monsters on their own. At most, from my understanding, the vamps where just exploiting them. Look, this shit runs deep, okay ?"

Steph nods "So were does that leave us ?"

"Us ?"

"You don't think I'm gonna let a little thing like my girlfriend being a vampire get in the way of what we got going. Besides, if my stepmom's still in the picture, maybe the whole vampire cabal thing is an easier option." Steph starts before quickly adding "You know, so long as you're not feasting on the innocent."

Rachel nods and smirks.

"You don't have to worry about that. Most my blood comes in bags. And I have a strict no kids policy, that really should just be common sense."

As Rachel says this, she thinks back last week. One of the fighters in "Scarlet Rivers" fight club was a woman who confessed to beating her kids. It was the first of few instances Rachel herself got into a fight, and taught Rachel she may have a Mama Bear streak.

"So, we are still in this together right ?" Rachel says holding out a hand.

"I mean, yeah." Steph smiles and rolls her eyes, taking Rachel's hand into her own "What's the worse that can happen ?"

----

January 30th, 2015

Returning home from her afternoon jog, Rachel, clad in a red sport bra and shorts, enters her home to hear her girlfriend/housemate laughing and chatting with someone unseen.

"Steph ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh ? In here, honey." Steph's voice answers in warm tone to of voice.

Rachel smiles as she kicked off her running shoes. Normally she'd take that workout bra and shorts off in the privacy of her own home, and ask Steph if she'd like to join her in the pool or shower.

As of yet in their relationship, Rachel and Steph were still yet to have sex; a personal boundary they set up until they were sure Steph was "ready" after Cathy was out of the picture. Still, cuddling on the bed and sofa or even the pool side, was a favorite pass time of theirs. And at the very least they where comfortable enough with each others bodies.

And sometimes a shower buddy was welcome.

But as of now, any of that was on hold.

"Why didn't you send me a heads up ?" Rachel asks as she makes her way to the living room, still in her sweat soaked clothes.

Steph was sitting in the couch, and sitting across from her at the coffee table was another woman.

She appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties; dressed in a white Hills Tank Top, black skinny jeans that shown off her figure and red high heels. She had bright red hair, and it was done in what would later be called "The Karen Cut".

At her side was a small black pug with a collar reading "Julius".

This woman and Steph where sipping tea while a movie was playing in the TV for background noise.

"Oh sorry Viv," Steph answers, remembering to call Rachel by her "public name" with guests over "Had a little mishap with the neighbors dog. As you can see, one thing lead to another."

"Sorry about that," The woman replies with a British accent "Julius here gets rather excited when we go for walks. He's new to this and still getting used to things."

"Little bugger ran right up to me I while I was washing our cars." Steph adds "Must have liked my music."

It was a Brittney Spears album she was playing. Clearly, this dog is one of culture.

The woman sets her pug aside and step up her her chair to shake Rachel by the hand.

"Eliza Ashbury," She says shaking Rachel's hand "At your service."

"Vivian Manning," Rachel replies "But I guess you already knew that."

"Your other half and I have been getting acquainted. My own significant other and I have bought a house up the road. We've been scoping the neighborhoods." Ashbury explains "We were hoping to meet our neighbors under different circumstances, but Julius had other ideas."

As she says this, the pug immediately scampers up to Steph, crawling on the couch, where upon the human girl is quick to play a game off tummy rubs.

"I see," Rachel says "Out of curiosity, are you in the business as well or do you plan to be ?"

"Not in cinema or the like, although I own a publishing company." Ashbury explains "Speaking of; Miss Gingrich and I have been talking about your writing projects...those vampire books of yours."

"The Lost Chronicles," Rachel and Steph answer at the same time.

In between their lives at home or in the city, Rachel and Steph have been working on a pet project of there's. Based off the stories Rachel told Steph to get her through recovery - basically revisions of classic myths and legends, with the added addition of vampires and werewolves, and other such monsters were none were present.

Steph, still a theatre student at heart, appealed to Rachel's inner literary student and talked her into writing a manuscript from these stories. Under the pseudonym of Vivian Manning of course.

"What about it ?" Rachel asks.

"Miss Asbury here says she's very interested in checking out what we written." Steph explains.

"I must admit, I found the concept curious." Ashbury explains "Years back we had a similar novelization in mind; a combination of history, mythology in folklore in a revised narrative. We scrapped the story at the time, but I'd be lying if what Miss Gingrich told me didn't revive my former interest."

As Ashbury says this, she excuses herself to look around the room, showing a particular interest in their bookshelf.

"Ah, I see you are an owner of Red Dead." Ashbury notes taking the book off the shelf and flipping through the pages "I myself own a first addition copy. Autographed by the author, no less." She adds, not mentioning she was the original publisher and her copy came with a "thank you" letter for getting the author out of a bad place.

"About The Lost Chronicles..." Rachel says "We are still quite a ways away from finishing them; and to be honest we were not looking to get them published at first."

"That's quite alright. I don't need to see it now." Asbury starts "That being said, I would like to discus it further with you on a later occasion." She says, putting Red Dead back on it's shelf.

"My other half and I are holding a house warming party for some friends we have in the Hills, once we are settled in. Your own rep as a party animal not withstanding, I would like for you to come." Ashbury says, crouching down, while Julius scampers towards his owner.

"We'll see." Steph says.

"You know," Rachel adds "If we have a clear schedule."

Ashbury stands up and smirks, pug in one of her arms. She looks to a set of notes they have on a desk and makes her way towards it. Taking hold of a pen, she writes down a number and hands the note to Rachel.

"Till then, I look forward to making more of your acquittance." Ashbury states "Business or otherwise."

With that, Asbury and her pet made their way out the front door.

After a moment, Rachel turns to Steph.

"So honey, you up for some pool time ?"

"No can do, just ate like twenty minutes ago. But you go right ahead."

"Well, then. I hope I present a good enough view for you." Rachel says, taking off her top like it was nothing.

Steph takes the item, smirks and rolls her eyes as Rachel makes her way to the patio and their pool, putting on a little show for Steph as she shimmies out of her bottoms.

----

February 2nd, 2015, Los Angeles.

As the sun went down days later, Rachel and Steph arrived at Eliza Ashbury's residence.

The two didn't know whether or not to go in anything too formal, so Rachel settled for stylish cocktail dressed that almost looked tie died in purple and blue, a set of black high heels and sapphire earrings.

Steph went for a more tomboyish look; a little blue over shirt with a white T beneath it, and rolled up sleeves, plus form fitting pants, and white sandals.

By the looks of the penthouse, Ashbury and her significant other didn't go too hard in appearing formal; it looked like one of those parties Rachel visited where the host was some pop artist. Rachel even spotted a few names she worked with the past year as Vivian Manning.

"Nervous ?" Rachel asks Steph as they made their way to the front door "You're not as used to these as I am."

"I'm still sorry about freaking over last time is all." Steph confesses, following closely behind Rachel.

"It was Mark Hamill, I was freaking out too... you know, internally." Rachel says as the two made their way in.

The party was more so on the outside than in. While the Penthouse was pretty spacious, the most that was happening inside was a couple a dozen men and women in their twenties to mid thirties socializing, while another couple dozen where outside - there was a barbeque going on and a pool party by the looks of it.

In the penthouses living room, there was a 219 inch TV, with a small crowd of people were gathered watching movies (it was 1931's Dracula, the one with Bela Lugosi) and standing near at the TV's side was a woman in dark hair , wearing a darker version of the attire Eliza Ashbury wore in her visit, giving a lecture about the history of the film, and it's differences with the Spanish version.

When Rachel and Steph made their way past the living room, Rachel noticed said woman. She felt like someone Rachel has seen before, but she couldn't put her finger on it, at first.

Wait, it couldn't be her ? No, was certainly her. Now Rachel knew why the Ashbury name sounded so familiar.

And when Mary Reid noticed Rachel, she gave the young woman a friendly wave and a knowing smile, continuing on with her lecture. Rachel meanwhile, felt a shiver run up her spin.

One look was all it took for Rachel to think back to that trip to the gala...and the trip to the club the night after. And that trip to Mary's-

"Wanna check out the patio ?" Steph asks.

Rachel nods absent mindedly, just barely able to register Steph's voice and what she was saying.

"Y-yeah, let's go." Rachel says, letting Steph take her by the hand and lead her out to the patio door.

As she did so, Rachel looked back at Mary, still giving her that friendly smile.

The patio/pool area was where the partying was really happening; there was more people in the pool than out of it.

On the deck side of things a few people where gathered around the grill, taking their own dishes for hamburgers and hot dogs. The barbeque was far from either girl's mind, as they kept a look out for their two hosts.

Music was playing, eighties track by the sounds of it; Def Leppard's Hysteria.

At the far end of the pool, there was a diving board. It was there, they spotted Eliza Ashbury, clad in a navy blue, two piece swimsuit. She made her way up the board, regarded one of the party goers with a nod, before bouncing backwards off the boards tip.

She does a flip mid air as she lands at the pool's center, just dodging a younger man carrying a young woman on his shoulders. Said man, throws the girl off his shoulders in a panic as Ashbury lands.

Despite this, there is good spirted laughter between them when both women resurface. Ashbury spots Rachel and Steph in the crowd with a nod, before swimming a round the poor for a lap.

Steph turns to Rachel and says "You mind if I get us a bite ?"

"What ? Rachel asks.

"Patties. We skipped dinner tonight." Steph clarifies, the music loud enough that any conversation could barely be heard.

"Not too hungry, but you go ahead."

"Kinda wish we brought swimwear." Steph notes before she takes her leave.

"Bras and panties work too." Rachel calls after Steph, before making her way to the pools edge.

Rachel crouches down as Ashbury passes her. Ashbury stops, turns around to glance at Rachel, wiping some wet hair off her forehead.

"I see you made it." Ashbury greets with a grin "I assume this is too your liking, Miss Manning ?"

"Oh, yes." Rachel nods "Glad to see you're settling in so far. Saw a few Marvel faces here on my way in."

"You have my other half for that. Johnny been a fan of their material for a long, long time. It's one of those quirks about him that make him a little more endearing when he's off work." Asbury explains, before looking over Rachel's shoulder "Speak of the devil."

Rachel turns around to see a man approaching them. He looked to be in his early thirties; short black hair and a short black beard. He was wearing black jeans, and dark blue Hawaiian shirt. He was carrying a towel over his shoulder.

He had this affable demeanor, but his eyes read that he was a little out of his comfort zone.

"You're quick at making friends, Lizzie." The man, Johnny apparently, greets and crouches down to hand Ashbury a drink.

"It's my fault really." Rachel shrugs "I have that effect on people."

She raises a hand to shake his.

"Vivian Manning," Rachel introduces herself.

"John Reid." Dr. Reid greets, although clearly off duty "Yes, Eliza was talking about a book of yours."

"More of a manuscript really." Rachel shrugs "I understand you two run a publishing company."

"Among other things, but it's all in my wife's name." Reid gestures to Ashbury, who has since climbed out of the pool, sitting on the edge alongside Rachel.

"Such as modeling. Really, that's more of my sister-in-laws department. No doubt you seen her on the way in ?" Ashbury asks, drying off her hair with the towel Reid hands her.

Rachel has a subconscious shiver run up her spine thinking back to those nights in Portland. But she breathes in and out to shake it off "No doubt."

"You seemed to be getting a bit of a rep here, Miss Manning." Ashbury says "Making a small name for yourself. My agency ? We like taking small names and making them big."

"We also understand you've been making rounds in the modeling industry and the..." Red looks uncomfortable as he says the next bit "Entertainment industry."

"Sex sells." Rachel shrugs.

"Indeed, that's what they say." Reid nods, looking away, quickly deciding to change the subject "But about your manuscript; we understand you intend to write a vampire novel."

"Novels." Rachel corrects "I have many stories to tell."

"What about ?" Reid inquires.

"The idea is that they are tales of mythic figures, revamped of course in a context that includes vampires, werewolves, etcetera etcetera." Rachel explains "You know ? Mulan, Cú Chulainn, King Arthur ?"

With that, Reid and Ashbury glance at eachother.

"Interesting." Reid says, before addressing his wife "That was pretty close to the plot of a novel you were planning to write way back when."

"I know, that's why I wanted to here more about her manuscript." Ashbury nods "I had the concept back in 98 before I scrapped it. Which is why I wanted to hear more about your version, if you please ?" Ashbury asks.

Rachel chuckles before saying "Sitting pool side ? That's where you want to talk about a book deal ?"

Ashbury grins of her own and chuckles "Of course. I do have my office ready, and can afford to disappear for a time. What say you, Miss Manning ?"

"I'm game if you are." Rachel nods.

----

Ten minutes later, Rachel was making her way through the Reid/Ashbury house.

Notably, she was avoiding where she suspected Mary to be, as she could feel the older woman's gaze on the back of her neck. It was like an itch she scratched long ago suddenly coming back with a vengeance. Rachel honestly couldn't tell if this was fear getting to her and an old attraction awakening in her.

Mercifully, Mary has talking her brother, with Rachel overhearing an "Are you sure it's her ?" from John Reid, but Rachel dashed her way pass them before Mary could notice her. Ashbury, meanwhile, excused herself from the pool party to dry off and get into something more decent.

Rachel was told Ashbury's office was on the second floor, third door on the left, which gave a spectacular view of the city.
But you see one city skyline, you see them all, don't you ?

Now what Rachel noticed the pictures these people had on their walls; some of them believably recent of Mary and/or John Reid, sometimes with or without Ashbury in different locations; notably one of Mary's brother shaking hands with none other than Stan Lee. There was something in Mr. Reid's eyes that said he was a little more star struck than he'd care to show.

The deeper she went in the halls, there was also pictures of them in eras where Rachel couldn't be sure of, but she'd speculate them to be taken in the early 90's, the 80's and the later 70's, all in different locations, be it family outings or vacation spots; even pictures of people who shouldn't even be alive at the points in time the three where supposed to be alive.

That was about the one thing that convinced Rachel these weren't taken with a sort of artistic style in mind. Not unless there was as much young Johnny Cash impersonators than Elvis Presley ones.

Speaking of, there was also one taken of Ashbury and Mary with Elvis Presley in a picture dated 1969.

When Rachel found the office door itself, there was nothing spectacular about the interior, aside from an assortment of old movie posters, three book shelves, and a shelf containing VHS tapes. There was of course Ashbury's desk and on it was a framed photograph.

Having seen what she seen so far, Rachel cautiously stepped towards the desk, picking up the picture and turning it over. It was a black and white photograph, and if the style of clothes was any indication, early to mid 30's.

In it, sat a smiling Ashbury on a rocking chair; and on Ashbury's lap, a girl about eight or nine years old. The girl was wearing a small white dress, Shirley Temple-like in design, and even a bow. She also had dark hair in a short cut style. At the bottom of the photo was an engraved message; "Diana Reid; A Miracle from Above."

What struck Rachel was the familiarity of Diana's face. She could have sworn she seen a face like that before. Perhaps in an old photograph, but the only one that comes to mind was when she and Chloe would look at the latter's girlhood photos.

But a passing resemblance is nothing, right ? After all, different people can have passing similarities in appearance all the time, without even meaning anything. Even here, there was a few tweaks in this Diana girls face that keep her from being a total dead ringer for-

Rachel is interrupted when she hears a knocking on the door behind her.

Rachel gently, but quickly places the photograph back where she found it, turns around to see Eliza Ashbury, now in the same getup she was in when she paid her and Steph a visit. Ashbury had a mildly annoyed, but calm expression on her face.

"Enjoying the sights, Miss Manning ?" Ashbury asks as she enter the room.

"Sorry, I was a little curious." Rachel says, taking a seat in a chair across Ashbury's desk "You've got a lot of old pictures hanging up now. Must have put a lot of work in staging them, right ?"

Ashbury pauses, before snorting back a laugh "Of course, of course."

Ashbury takes a seat at her desk, looking at the photograph with a sad smile on her face, before turning it to show Rachel once again.

"Old family picture. Striking resemblance, isn't it ? Or do I flatter myself ?"

"I swear, you could be twins." Rachel shrugs with a nervous smile.

"Now you wish to speak of the vampire story you and your partner are writing, yes ?" Ashbury asks, leaning back in her chair.

"If you wish, I guess." Rachel nods "Like I said, it's nothing much other than revisions of old folktales and mythic figures, outfitted with the inclusion of vampiric mythology."

"Can you give me an example ?"

"Are you familiar with Cú Chulainn ?" Rachel asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Celtic Mythology. Studied it for a near decade among other myths." Ashbury smiles, and waves off the question like it was something preposterous.

"Okay, well, the revisions of course, is that the titular warrior, and that among other things, his ríastrad can be attributed to him being one of the first vampires." Rachel explains.

"I see, and how did he become the first vampire ?"

"A recurring element in my book is that vampires, especially the original ones, were born from primordial spirits - I took a few liberties with the myths of Lugh to present the deity as such an example. It would be more accurate to say, Cú Chulainn was one of the first human vampires." Rachel explains further.

Ashbury leans in, her smile becoming more and more knowing "I see. Tell me more."

"Well, his story remains pretty close to the legend as it's known, with a few deviations."

"You didn't include the part of him and Aífe having a son when he was-?" Ashbury asking, sounding a little concerned regarding that part of the story, and Rachel quickly picks up on her concerns.

"Oh, what ? Eh n-no, no!" Rachel shakes her head a little squicked out "I tried to keep it otherwise true to the legend, but I ended up skimming over that part."

"Understandable." Ashbury nods in agreement.

"There's also the element of his war with Meb, who in my manuscript is also depicted as a vampire, serving under a different entity." Rachel says "Now unlike the original, he manages to take her with him into death - in fact the bit about Cú Chulainn bursting into a bright light-"

"Was him and Meb bursting dying by sunlight, which is how that aspect of the vampire myth was born." Ashbury answer.

This caught Rachel by surprise, and it took a second for her to find her voice "Yes, how did you-"

Rachel hears the door close behind her, to see John Reid standing there with a calm but cautious expression on her face.

"Someone has been reading up on their history." He says, taking his place at Ashbury's side.

"Yes, there's much she knows already." Ashbury nods before addressing Rachel "We got Mary's confirmation of your identity. Are you prepared to tell us all you know and understand of your situation, Rachel Amber ?"

Rachel could have felt her heart stop and her blood freeze at their question. Rachel clutched her chest to see if her heart was still beating. Even the two older vampires looked a little concerned as they glance at each other, before Rachel finally manages to breath out three simple words.

"Oh, fuck me..."

Chapter Text

February 2nd, 2015

Rachel was making her way through the Reid/Ashbury house.

Notably, she was avoiding where she suspected Mary to be, as she could feel the older woman's gaze on the back of her neck. It was like an itch she scratched long ago suddenly coming back with a vengeance. Rachel honestly couldn't tell if this was fear getting to her and an old attraction awakening in her.

Mercifully, Mary is talking with her brother, with Rachel overhearing an "Are you sure it's her ?" from John Reid, but Rachel dashed her way past them before Mary could notice her. Ashbury, meanwhile, excused herself from the pool party to dry off and get into something more decent.

Rachel was told Ashbury's office was on the second floor, third door on the left, which gave a spectacular view of the city.
But you see one city skyline, you see them all, don't you ?

Now, Rachel noticed the pictures these people had on their walls; some of them believably recent of Mary and/or John Reid, sometimes with or without Ashbury in different locations; notably one of Mary's brother shaking hands with none other than Stan Lee. There was something in Mr. Reid's eyes that said he was a little more star struck than he'd care to show.

The deeper she went in the halls, there was also pictures of them in eras where Rachel couldn't be sure of, but she'd speculate them to be taken in the early 90's, the 80's and the later 70's, all in different locations, be it family outings or vacation spots; even pictures of people who shouldn't even be alive at the points in time the three were supposed to be alive.

That was about the one thing that convinced Rachel these weren't taken with a sort of artistic style in mind. Not unless there were as many young Johnny Cash impersonators as Elvis Presley ones.

Speaking of, there was also one taken of Ashbury and Mary with Elvis Presley in a picture dated 1969.

When Rachel found the office door itself, there was nothing spectacular about the interior, aside from an assortment of old movie posters, three bookshelves, and a shelf containing VHS tapes. There was of course Ashbury's desk and on it was a framed photograph.

Having seen what she saw so far, Rachel cautiously stepped towards the desk, picking up the picture and turning it over. It was a black and white photograph, and if the style of clothes was any indication, early to mid 30's.

In it, sat a smiling Ashbury on a rocking chair; and on Ashbury's lap, a girl about eight or nine years old. The girl was wearing a small white dress, Shirley Temple-like in design, and even a bow. She also had dark hair in a short cut style. At the bottom of the photo was an engraved message; "Diana Reid; A Miracle from Above."

What struck Rachel was the familiarity of Diana's face. She could have sworn she had seen a face like that before. Perhaps in an old photograph, but the only one that comes to mind was when she and Chloe would look at the latter's girlhood photos.

But a passing resemblance is nothing, right ? After all, different people can have passing similarities in appearance all the time, without even meaning anything. Even here, there was a few tweaks in this Diana girls face that keep her from being a total dead ringer for-

Rachel is interrupted when she hears a knocking on the door behind her.

Rachel gently, but quickly places the photograph back where she found it, turns around to see Eliza Ashbury, now in the same getup she was in when she paid her and Steph a visit. Ashbury had a mildly annoyed, but calm expression on her face.

"Enjoying the sights, Miss Manning ?" Ashbury asks as she enters the room.

"Sorry, I was a little curious." Rachel says, taking a seat in a chair across Ashbury's desk "You've got a lot of old pictures hanging up now. Must have put a lot of work into staging them, right ?"

Ashbury pauses, before snorting back a laugh "Of course, of course."

Ashbury takes a seat at her desk, looking at the photograph with a sad smile on her face, before turning it to show Rachel once again.

"Old family picture. Striking resemblance, isn't it ? Or do I flatter myself ?"

"I swear, you could be twins." Rachel shrugs with a nervous smile.

"Now you wish to speak of the vampire story you and your partner are writing, yes ?" Ashbury asks, leaning back in her chair.

"If you wish, I guess." Rachel nods "Like I said, it's nothing much other than revisions of old folktales and mythic figures, outfitted with the inclusion of vampiric mythology."

"Can you give me an example ?"

"Are you familiar with Cú Chulainn ?" Rachel asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Celtic Mythology. Studied it for a near decade among other myths." Ashbury smiles, and waves off the question like it was something preposterous.

"Okay, well, the revisions of course, is that the titular warrior. Among other things, his ríastrad can be attributed to him being one of the first vampires." Rachel explains.

"I see, and how did he become the first vampire ?"

"A recurring element in my book is that vampires, especially the original ones, were born from primordial spirits - I took a few liberties with the myths of Lugh to present the deity as such an example. It would be more accurate to say, Cú Chulainn was one of the first human vampires." Rachel explains further.

Ashbury leans in, her smile becoming more and more knowing "I see. Tell me more."

"Well, his story remains pretty close to the legend as it's known, with a few deviations."

"You didn't include the part of him and Aífe having a son when he was-?" Ashbury asks, sounding a little concerned regarding that part of the story, and Rachel quickly picks up on her concerns.

"Oh, what ? Eh n-no, no!" Rachel shakes her head, a little squicked out "I tried to keep it otherwise true to the legend, but I ended up skimming over that part."

"Understandable." Ashbury nods in agreement.

"There's also the element of his war with Meb, who in my manuscript is also depicted as a vampire, serving under a different entity." Rachel says "Now unlike the original, he manages to take her with him into death - in fact the bit about Cú Chulainn bursting into a bright light-"

"Was he and Meb bursting dying by sunlight, which is how that aspect of the vampire myth was born." Ashbury answered, finishing Rachel's sentence.

This caught Rachel by surprise, and it took a second for her to find her voice "Yes, how did you-"

Rachel hears the door close behind her, to see John Reid standing there with a calm but cautious expression on his face.

"Someone has been reading up on their history." He says, taking his place at Ashbury's side.

"Yes, there's much she knows already." Ashbury nods before addressing Rachel "We got Mary's confirmation of your identity. Are you prepared to tell us all you know and understand of your situation, Rachel Amber ?"

Rachel could have felt her heart stop and her blood freeze at their question. Rachel clutched her chest to see if her heart was still beating. Even the two older vampires looked a little concerned as they glanced at each other, before Rachel finally managed to breath out three simple words.

"Oh, fuck me..."

"That's not an answer we usually accept, you know. We think it's best you come with-" Reid starts, reaching down to touch Rachel's shoulder.

Before he can finish his sentence, Rachel grabs Jonathan by the wrist, giving him a "staring daggers" look that he is all too familiar with.

Prepared for something like this, Jonathan reaches into his chest pocket, revealing a needle filled with a purple liquid. As he pulls this out, and readies it, Rachel lunges up at him, a fury scarcely seen in Rachel's entire unlife...

----

Boone Country, February 27th, 2013

Visits to Sera Gearhardt's was few and far between in Rachel's case.

After Chloe brought her and Rachel together, Rachel thought she'd be a lot closer to her mother than what they ended up being. But even so, Rachel makes due with what she can.

This can be thanks to the fallout of Rachel learning the truth behind Sera's kidnapping.

At first, Rachel stayed with Chloe's over the first three weeks, playing peacemaker between Chloe and David in that time (there are times she thinks that without her interference, the Price-Madsen house would be reduced to a disaster area).

And thanks to a few jobs with/for Frank, as well as a payment Rachel calls "Apology Money" gets from her father, Rachel was able to rent out a comfortable apartment just out of town whenever she couldn't use her dorm.

Sera has been on and off the wagon four times in the past few years, despite attending rehab for four months after initially meeting Rachel. All thanks to Damon, and Rachel's father.

And two close call OD's.

Between, as well as Rachel's colorful social life, Rachel visiting her mother was something that happened, like, every few weeks. Despite their strained relationship, Rachel thinks she's seen more from James than Sera in the past year alone.

But this was one such instance that Rachel had more free time on her hands.

Rachel ended things with Frank some time ago (or as she put it "I don't think we can go as far as you want too.") and Chloe was having a family visit of her own; Once or twice a year, Chloe would take these trips to California, where her grandmother Beth Price was residing.

There were instances where Chloe would go on and on about these visits with each time their due date came close.

By all accounts these visits were the highlight of Chloe's yea. The sole exception is when David joined Chloe and Joyce on one of these trips; Joyce and Beth already had a strained relationship following William's death, and let's just say David didn't make a good first impression on Beth.

In any case, this gave Rachel plenty of time to catch up with her mother.

The relationship between Rachel and Sera was a mixed bag - their worse days were closer to David and Chloe's better days.

After the first year, Rachel invited Sera to join her and Chloe at the Price Madsen house for Christmas dinner. Sera and Joyce got along well and good, and while David had this cautious air about him, but was otherwise in check for the occasion.

----

The more and more time Rachel and Sera visited, the more and more they didn't click in the way Rachel hoped they would.

An example of this is when Rachel was involved with another play in October 5th, 2012.

It was the musical version of Carrie, in which Rachel played the part of Sue Snell. It was one of the few instances where all three of Rachel's parents showed up to show their support, as well as Chloe.

That all said, Rachel's singing voice left some to be desired. She wasn't used to doing musicals, but she was able to add lib some lesbian subtext between Carrie and Sue, and believably pass it off as part of the script.

Mid way through the play, Sera took her leave. After the play was over, Rachel only took the time to talk to Rose after the play was over.

The following discussion went as such.

"I gotta say," Rose Amber says approaching Rachel as the latter exited the change room with Chloe "You knocked it out of the park."

Rachel rolls her eyes, before addressing Rose "You can say it. My singing sucks."

"Hey, what you lack in singing you make up for in ad libs." Chloe says, kissing Rachel on the cheek, "You two take your time, I'll start the truck. See you round, Rose."

With that, Chloe takes her leave Rachel and her stepmother alone to talk. As she walks through the exit door, Chloe passes James, waiting at the doorway. The two exchange glares as they pass each other.

"You know," Rose starts "I always did like the book better than the movie, but I gotta say, the stage has this way of bringing things to life-"

"You can stop buttering me up, you know." Rachel says bluntly.

"Rachel-"

"It's not you I'm mad at." Rachel has to clarify.

"Look, I can understand why you're upset, and while I can't support your father in what he did, he had his reasons for doing what he did."

"Are you kidding me ?" Rachel asks, unbelieving at what she was hearing "Are you kidding me ? Trying to keep up a squeaky clean image is an understandable reason for you ?"

"He was worried about you, what Sera could put you through." Rose tries to say, causing Rachel to scoff.

"What about what he put me through ? Or Sera for that matter ?" Rachel says.

"Like I said, I can't support it, but your father does care about you, Rachel. He just doesn't show it correctly." Rose clarifies.

"Nothing says 'I want to help my daughter' more than getting her mother back on the wagon." Rachel crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

It's then Rachel notices a sad and discomforted look in Rose's eyes, and softens her own expression considerably.

Rachel gives Rose a little hug and says "Hey, it's like I said, it's not you I'm mad it. I'm just a little uncomfortable around him."

"And yet you're comfortable with Bowers ?" Rose asks, causing Rachel to pause "We saw you with him a couple months ago."

"Wha-" Rachel starts to ask before Rose clarifies.

"At the movies ?"

"I mean, Avengers was a big release. A lot of people were there." Rachel tries to explain, glancing to the side and scratching her ear.

"Which is why you and him bought popcorn together ?" Rose says, taking a stern quality in her voice, and crosses her arms.

"He's a friend." Rachel says "Besides we haven't exactly hung out in a while."

Rose sighs and nods "Look, your father and I might not be seeing eye to eye lately, but we both worry about you, you know. Personally, I don't care too much for  the company you keep."

"You mean the wrong side of the tracks ?"

"I mean the wrong side of the law." Rose says "Your father told me how your...mother went into a very dark place with the company she kept. Neither of us want to see you go down that same route."

"Like I said,'' Rachel sighs "Frank and I haven't really seen eachother in a while. You don't have to worry."

"Can't help it. No matter what happens between you, your father, Sera, you're still my little girl."

Rachel winces when she hears this "Why'd you have to say it like that ?"

"Because it's the truth. Whatever you think of your father, just know that I'm at least being honest when I say I want the best for you...even if it pushes you away."

Rachel gives a sad nod to Rose, wrapping her arms around her step mom's waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not ready to accept him."

Rose gives a nod of her own and wraps her arms around Rachel's shoulder, pulling her stepdaughter in like she didn't want to let her go. But after a minute she did.

"So, uh," Rose says wiping an eye "How have things been with Sera ?"

Rachel shrugs "Can't complain. We have family in Ontario, you know ? We were thinking of taking a trip there over the holidays. It's were she got her support system after." Rachel hesitates "You know, what James got her back on."

To change an uncomfortable subject, Rachel brings up something else.

"You know, Chloe's going to be seeing her grandma this weekend; I was planning on taking her with me and Sera on a museum trip. Figured we could use the extra company."

"Oh, does she normally come with you on these kinds of trips ?"

"I've been trying to get her back into art. Found out she was into painting as part of her recovery; thought I could help reignite her passion."

Rose sighs, recalling Sera leaving mid way through the play, she didn't want to let Rachel get her hopes up. At the same time, she felt she had to respect her boundaries.

"I appreciate the offer, but don't you think it would be a little weird to have me and your other mom on the same trip ?"

"I mean, I thought you could get to know eachother. I at the very least don't want to cut you out is all." Rachel shrugs.

"Hmm, maybe some other day. I've got work to do over the weekend."

"If you say so," Rachel sighs "See you around, mo- I mean-"

Rose smiles and hugs Rachel back.

"I'll see you around too, honey."

After the play was done, and Chloe dropped her off, Rachel went to Sera's apartment to find out how she liked the play.

Sera was half asleep on the bathroom floor, having thrown up today's buzz until her breathing went back to normal.

Rachel said nothing, just rolling her eyes, and helping Sera onto the bed. She places a couple of Tylenol on the nightstand, before pulling the covers.

"'Night, mom." Rachel says, retiring to the living room.

She was too agitated to sleep, so she took a little something to take the edge off.

----

Boone Country, February 27th, 2013

Rachel and her Sera's relationship has its highs and lows for months like this.

On a good day, they'd take girl trips out of town; a couple of trips to a Museum, a trip to the movies. They wanted to go on a nature hike when the weather permitted.

It gave Rachel the time to learn more and more about Sera Gearhardt. How she was born in Sudbury, Ontario to a mixed family - Bohemian and Ojibwe - Sera lost her parents at the age of seven and was raised by her grandparents on a reservation area till they moved to the states when she was twelve.

Due to Sera's own problems, she became a drifter after James left her and has living in and out of sudbury, Rachel's whole life. She had a painting and drawing habit in high school (which was something she and James apparently bonded over) but has fallen out of her passion.

On their bad days, Sera would catch Rachel smoking grass and drinking, would go into "Mom Mode", and things would escalate to shouting matches that would have made David and Chloe tell them to dial it back. This resulted in both mother and daughter to go on separate benders to try to forget what they said to eachother.

All it did was trade one mucky feeling for another.

The week before, things got especially ugly. Of course, Rachel couldn't remember what was said or what the argument was about, but she'd hope she can make things up with Sera with a trip to a ski resort she saved up for. She at the very least remembers offering this trip before things got ugly.

Pulling into the parking lot, Rachel makes her way to Sera's front door; she notices the living room window, the TV was on, so at the very least someone was home. Sera doesn't usually go out that often, nor does she have people over.

Rachel knocks on the door, but when no one comes for about thirty seconds she rings the doorbell. After another minute, she bites the bullet and just opens the door.

"Mom ?...Mom ?" Rachel asks as she helps herself in.

She follows the sound of the TV to the living room with an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S playing. The lights were on, and by the looks of the couch, Sera was sleeping there the night before but wasn't there now.

Rachel checked the dining room. No sign that Sera even ate breakfast that morning.

Next stop was upstairs. The bedroom door was adjacent; still no Sera.

The hallway lights were off, but what wasn't was the bathroom light, shining under its closed door.

Rachel knocks on the door "Mom...? Mom, are you decent ?"

Six seconds of silence.

Rachel knocks again, louder and harder "Mom ? It's me, it's Rachel."

Four more seconds.

"I'm gonna open the door, okay ?"

Rachel covers her eyes with one hand, and opens the door with the other.

She expects an indignant "Rachel, what the hell ? Can't you see I'm bathing?" But when she doesn't hear that, Rachel peeks past her hand to see her mother.

Sera was lying over the side bathtub,  it wasn't filled all the way, just four inches deep.

In too much shock to be phased by her mothers nudity, as far as Rachel can tell, Sera was still breathing and conscious, but she didn't look too lucid. Rachel also saw three unused heroin needles on the sink, and two beside the tub itself.

It didn't take much to put two and two together. It must have been some strong stuff to make Sera just lucid enough to keep her head over the tub's side. Rachel could see Sera's eyes where wetter as she looked up at her daughter.

"Go away." Sera says weakly.

"Mom, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

"You're not, you need to-" Rachel starts.

"I just need to take it in smaller-"

"You need to cut loose, mom. Come on." Rachel says, getting up to Sera, and hoisting her mother to her feet with her own two arms.

"Come on, let's get you some clothes and something to eat, okay ?" Rachel says.

They barely made it two steps before Sera turns towards the toilet and begins to regurgitate.

Rachel looks away, unsettled by the sight. Ironically, it was something more unsettling that caught Rachel's attention; blood was coming from her mothers nose, and a little from her mouth.

"Oh shit!" Rachel exclaims.

-----

Rachel called the ambulance, had to dress her mother herself, before the paramedics arrived in seven minutes.

Sera was carried out on a stretcher, and despite her weak protests and wishes for Rachel to not see her like this, Rachel joined her in the ambulance.

Rachel stayed with her mother for the next day and a half.

Anyone could see what came next, happening a mile away.

When the time finally came, finally came, Rachel was numb with shock, before other unpleasant emotions started to overtake her.

A rational girl would have taken this incident as a lesson, off the dangers of substance abuse, and the effect it could have on you. Rachel was often a girl of emotion rather than logic, and all she could think of was how to escape that sickening, icky feeling forming in her chest and the pit of her stomach.

Chloe wasn't there to turn too, and Rachel wasn't seeing Frank at the time. That just left Brandy and Mary Jane to keep her company, to numb that sick, depressive, intrusive sensation that was overtaking her body.

All these substances did was take her out of the right state of mind, and into the condo of Mark Jefferson days later.

-----

February 3rd, 2015, Los Angeles

Rachel's eyes pop open with a gasp. An image out of Pulp Fiction.

It takes a few seconds for the black spots to clear from her vision, but once it does, she sees where she is. It's in an office, but a different one than the one she was just sitting in. Looks more like a therapist's office, in a plain white room, a desk on the far side, and a couch of sorts in the center.

As soon as Rachel takes the new air in her lungs, she begins coughing when she notices something; a needle in her forearm.

"Wh-ere, where am I ?" Rachel manages to ask.

That's when Rachel noticed two other people in the room with her; Eliza Ashbury was sitting  at her side, holding her hand with a concerned expression; John Reid has apparently taken a few steps back, and is looking over Rachel cautiously, having apparently administered the needle.

"You're in our other office." Ashbury says, rubbing Rachel on her back. When Rachel turns her head to the side, she sees the clock on the room's wall reads 2:34 AM.

Rachel smacks her mouth, trying to get that "Morning taste" out of her mouth. She winces as she feels Reid step forward and gently pull the needle out. Rachel notices a glass of red liquid, probably blood or juice on a desk. Rachel makes a gesture to the glass, and Ashbury nods, getting up to get Rachel her drink.

"The hell happened ?" Rachel says, placing two fingers on her forehead, trying to collect her thoughts.

"You blacked out, worked yourself into a panic attack. We had to give you something to relax." Reid explains, as Ashbury hands Rachel her drink, which the younger vampire simply downs.

"How bad was it ?" Rachel asks.

"Well, you flipped my office desk and nearly broke my arms when I tried to calm you." Ashbury shrugs "You must have been terrified."

It takes Rachel a second to think back to her revelation of who she was talking to. The name Ashbury should have rang some bells.

Rachel was told over her "education" into vampire history that the name was associated with Lady Blackwood, a vampire mistress having taken over this so-called Ascalon Society; how her lover was a slayer of sorts, responsible for hunting down The Mother's Children, and exterminating the Queen's chosen.

Really, a horror novel could be written by the stuff done in WWII by these two and their vampire society.

When Rachel realized who she was talking to, she'd freeze at first before her flight or flight response kicked in. It was otherwise a blur, but the end result was that Rachel had to be physically restrained by Reid, and administrated several shots over the past few hours to calm her down.

Reading Reid's notes on Rachel's condition, and you'd find that so great was Rachel's panic and physical reaction, if she were still human, she'd have a fatal cardiac arrest.

"What happens now ?" Rachel asks, knowing now who she speaks too and what to expect.

"We had to give you a medical examination." Reid explains, "Make sure you're not infected."

Rachel scoffs humorlessly "I already am infected; vampire, in case you haven't figured it out yet. I already know what I am, what you are and I have some idea of who you are."

"Is that so; how much do you know ?" Ashbury asks.

"I think by the stories I'm writing, I know enough about your history. I also know you two have something to do with this Lady Blackwood I heard so much about from my-" Rachel trails off, thinking about Mordred, and what exactly his relationship to her was.

Ashbury looked away, as if she was ashamed at the mention of "Lady Blackwood". Reid had a more understanding if cautious air about him.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order." Ashbury nods.

"First things first, where is my-" Rachel starts before Reid interrupts.

"She's busy." Reid replies, "We have her occupied, but she has been worrying about you. She has also made it clear to us she knows what you are. How much does she know ?"

Rachel hesitates before she says "Enough. She knows I'm a vampire; she knows about the cabal  of vampires and humans that worship this death goddess. She has some idea that the books we are writing are of the true stories behind mythic figures and events. She doesn't know that I am a maiden of the vampire apocalypse, or of the other cabal that's out to kill me."

"That's a rather presumptuous accusation." Reid starts.

"I was told enough about your people to know what to expect. Can you give me a reason not to ?" Rachel crosses her arms, and raises an eyebrow with a challenging expression on her face.

"We'll hear you out when you hear us, how about that ?" Reid says, having taken the chair from his desk and moving it closer to the couch.

Rachel says nothing, but gives an expression that says "Well, don't leave me hanging."

"First things first," Ashbury clears her throat "Many of the things you hear from our club are true. Yes, we have been in conflict with the Mother's Children for longer than most people here have been alive. And yes, we have killed people as a result of this fighting. You have to kill a few rats to deal with an infestation."

"Or get your hands dirty to dig for gold." Rachel thinks to herself.

"But think for a moment." Ashbury continues "What kind of people are the Mother's Children ? You're surely familiar enough with their operations to know these aren't innocent or upstanding people we are up against."

On Reid's desk, there lies a nondescript envelope. Seemingly not worthy of attention, but when Ashbury gets up to retrieve it, she hands it to Rachel.

Rachel opens the envelope when Ashbury gestures to her to do so, and pulls from it four photographs; they were of Rachel - in her Scarlet Rivers getup, obscuring her face with sunglasses or a black fedora, taken where Mordred once held his fight club.

There were pictures of Rachel taking money from the winnings, overseeing fights from her booth, and a more clear image of Rachel having apparently gotten into a scrap herself, standing over the barely conscious body of one of her female fighters, holding her fist up and looking up to the roof with a proud expression.

"And surely you know this barely scratches the surface ?" Ashbury asks.

"I never went that far down the rabbit hole." Rachel answers, setting the pictures aside.

"Yes, well, there's Alice in the rabbit hole and there's Dante in the Inferno." Reid answers back.

"We aren't gonna kill you if that's what you're scared of." Ashbury says, apparently sensing an unease in Rachel "We just need to know what you know."

"How do you know I can trust you ?" Rachel asks.

"We're trying to improve our methods.' Reid says, reaching forward and placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder to try to reassure her "I am not proud of what I had to do over the past ninety years to stop this threat, but if you met Mordred, what did he sell you on ? Did he give you some flowery speech about tearing the old, corrupt world asunder and rebuilding a better society on it's ashes ? Is that how he spun his vampire apocalypse promotion to you ? You are far from the first girl he told this story to; he even tried to sell it to us before your parents were infants."

"That's...not what he sold me on." Rachel confesses "He told me I had a choice between hearing him out or hearing you ? And that if I choose wrong, bad things could happen to me or those I care about. And he didn't sell your people as the better option."

"And you took him at his word ?" Reid asks.

"Does his word have value ?" Rachel asks "One of the things he told me of was how a Doctor Reid - who I am assuming is you - killed a fourteen year old girl that his family was protecting. But if what you're telling me is true, and if you are in fact, that Doctor Reid, I shouldn't take his word for it ? So if there's more to the story, I'm all ears."

After a moment of collecting his thoughts Reid answers.

"Dolores Valisari. An Italian girl from a low class family. Lived in a rural community; fate dealt her a bad hand which got her the Blood Queen's attention. Mordred, then going as Vito Teti, stepped in to mentor her. By then a familiar disease spread through the region as the result of Valisari trying to cure her dying nine year old brother. By the time we reached the community, Valisari was already dead. Her community ? Decayed to the Blood of Hate."

"The Blood of Hate ?" Rachel asks.

"You don't know ?" Reid asks "Where the blood goddess goes, disease follows in one form or another. It's called the Blood of Hate. If you haven't guessed by now, it's a disease and corruption that permeates anything with flesh and spirit. It twists, distorts and rots those it infects. Dying to the disease is the best case scenario. Other cases, you become something worse."

"Worse ? Rachel asks, having become noticeably more pale and mortified as she soaks all this in.

"I'm sure if you read Algonquins describe the wendigo, or seen zombie apocalypse movies or shows, you'll have a good idea how her corruption works. When the Queen picks a champion, that champion carries that disease in her blood and spreads it as her proxy. And that, Miss Amber, is why we had to take a blood test on you, and sought you out in the first place."

"I'm...I'm.." Rachel gasps, she covers her mouth with one hand, and her stomach with the other.

"Before you ask, I have good news and bad news."

If Rachel was in a better mood, she'd say something jokingly like "Give it to me straight, Doc." But her horrified slack-jawed expression gave Reid all the incentive he needed.

"The disease in your own blood is a dormant strain; you yourself shouldn't mutate or anything, but I wouldn't turn anyone if I were you. You haven't been turning anyone, have you ?"

Rachel shakes her head "The bad news ?"

"There is a cure, but we don't have it. At least not a permanent one." Reid explains.

Rachel notices Ashbury looks away with an ashamed expression on her face, before Reid continues.

"What he means is," Ashbury continues for him "We found something, but the price to pay for it is far too high. We may speak of the matter further, but as it stands, you and your partner are free to go."

Rachel stifles as she stands up "Wh-where is Steph ?"

"She's in our other room. We had to keep her occupied." Reid explains "We had to sneak her a sedative and keep her under Mary's watch.

"Mary ?" Rachel says "S-so she's with you guys ? And she's a-"

"Yes." Reid answers bluntly "And it is our understanding you two had..." He noticeably hesitates before he finds the right words "An encounter the year before. It's how we were able to track you down."

Rachel blushes lightly before looking away "I'll have to see her again, won't I ?"

"You may, and you may have to see us again." Ashbury answer "Admittedly, this wasn't the best of circumstances to have gotten your attention-"

"You came on a little strong, but I'll give you points for efficiency." Rachel snarks dryly.

"-How does a trip to the coffee shop sound ?" Ashbury asks with a friendly smile.

"Do you take yours red ?" Rachel snarks again, this time wincing at the joke she cracks "Sorry, puns are not my specialty.

"Well, consider yourself pardoned in the meantime." Reid answers, with a tone that Rachel isn't sure he's cracking a joke.

Rachel gets off the couch, stretching out her sore arm "So uh, about Steph ?"

----

Rachel was escorted down the hall to their living room; again, the TV and room was big and spacious enough it could almost qualify as a small theatre. On one end of a black leather couch, Steph was lying with her shoes off, a little dazed and almost asleep.

The gathering has long since died down.

Cuddled at her side was Mary, who laid the younger woman across her lap as she looked on at the movie.

Mary perked her head up and gave a knowing smile as Rachel entered the room with her two hosts.

"I'd say as I live and breathe, but that would be a little on the nose." Mary greets, gently slipping out from under Steph, who was barely stirred awake by the motion.

Rachel freezes a little at Mary's voice, but quickly reserves herself in Jonathan and Elizabeth's presence.

"Ms. Reid." Rachel says "I see not much of you have changed since our last encounter."

"You don't have to be formal on my account. Your friend Steph and I were talking about you in your absence, and our past relationships."

"Mary-" Jonathan starts in a warning tone, before he's interrupted by his sister.

"Oh come now, Johnny. We all know what happened!"

"We don't need reminding is what I'm saying." Reid says under his breath.

"About Ms. Gingrich," Ashbury starts "Does she also know-"

With that, Steph started to recoil off the couch as if awakening from a deep sleep. In a tired voice she manages "Yes, and she'd prefer you not talk about her like she isn't here."

Steph climbs off the couch and gets to her feet, wobbling a little as she stands. Rachel walks to her and helps her stand, supporting her with an arm around her back.

"Easy there." Rachel says "You okay, babe ?"

"I'm fine, a little woozy." Steph nods with a nod "Was waiting a while. I'm assuming these people are also -?"

"Yes," Rachel nods "I'll explain it all on the way home."

Steph turns her attention to Jonathan and Ashbury "You two didn't slip me anything to turn me, did you ?"

"Do we look like the Lost Boys to you ?"

Steph shrugs at the answer, before wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders, letting her girlfriend lead her to the door.

"Miss Amber ?" Ashbury says, stopping the girls.

Rachel and Steph stop and look at the elder vampire.

"I'm still interested in seeing that book of yours. I figure you could use an expert consultant."

----

On the ride home, Rachel and Steph were mostly silent. By the time they pulled into their driveway, Rachel finally spoke.

"About Mary-"

"Rachel, I know." Steph says bluntly "You didn't keep that much from me, you didn't keep Jefferson from me, you didn't keep Frank from me. I shouldn't be too surprised; if anything I'm more surprised that it's a small world."

"Reid's a common surname," Rachel answers "How was I supposed to know they were from the same family ?"

"Was she someone special, like an ex or something ?"

"Nah." Rachel shakes her head "She was a one night stand of mine, before all this went down. There wasn't much to it."

"So seeing her didn't awaken anything inside you ?"

"What's that supposed to mean ?" Rachel asks, placing two fingers on her temple as comfortable and uncomfortable thoughts and memories flow through her head.

Steph's expectant look is all the answer Rachel needs.

"No, it's not like that." Rachel shakes her head "Mary's like- like Frank to me, you know ? Not even that, we only knew eachother a few nights."

"And based on what she told me, those few nights may have saved your life." Steph says.

"Or turned me into a ghoul." Rachel answers "And if- I might have-"

Rachel stutters to find the words. It was one thing to tell your girlfriend you are a vampire. It's a whole other matter to tell her that you are carrying a dormant, corruptive disease in your blood - and that you most likely got it from one of your "exes" whose house you just left; and one that could mean the (literal) bloody end of the world.

Life is weird. Unlife is weirder.

"Well, she's the reason you're still kicking and for that I am grateful." Steph says, kissing Rachel on the forehead.

Rachel nods and steps out of the car, Steph following suit.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight." Rachel says, monotone.

"Is there something wrong ?"

"I have too much on my mind." Rachel shakes her head.

Steph nods in understanding "Well, if we're going to be seeing them again, I want to be there. I don't like having secrets kept from me, you know."

Rachel winces at that.

Why'd she have to say that ?

"Alright, so...I might be sick." Rachel says after a hesitant sigh.

"Sick how ?"

"I can't explain, I'm not a doctor." Rachel shakes her head "Reid can explain it better than I can. We'll be seeing them again soon, they can explain then."

"But how bad is it ?" Steph asks.

"It's probably best we don't sleep in the same bed."

"I see," Steph says.

"I don't want to think or talk about it right now, honey." Rachel yawns "I think it's time we hit the sack."

The two step out of their car and towards their front door, ready to put the day behind them.

Rachel slept on the couch that night, and for most of the day, her mind going back to what she was told some time ago. How Steph wasn't her Steph, or the "real" Steph; How she was supposed to be somewhere else, with someone else.

This name, Alex Chen.

Was that name supposed to mean someone to her or Steph ? Was she taking Steph away from another's life ?

Really, Rachel could have sworn she'd wake up one day with Steph seemingly out of her life, with whatever memory of her feeling like a dream. And the next moment, Steph would be back in her house, with apparently nothing changed.

This FBC she was told about, if she could reach out to them, she could find out more of Steph's presence in her life. And considering all that's happening, Rachel would have preferred if Steph disappeared from this life entirely. It would be best if Steph didn't have to go through this too, but for whatever reason, the world wanted her here.

----

February 5th, 2015, Los Angeles

As promised, Rachel and Steph arrived at the Venue restaurant, to meet with Reid and Ashbury. So long as they had a private room to discuss certain matters.

When they were at their seats, Steph was the one doing most of the eating, keeping quiet but looking on. The vampires had more pressing matters to discuss, barely touching their dishes.

"If I may be so bold, to break the ice." Reid says as he takes his seat, looking uncomfortable in his more "Hollywood" getup "I'm sure you have a hundred questions."

"I wouldn't say so." Rachel shakes her head "A lot of my questions have been answered the past year; I know as much about what vampires were doing in history; I know of all these gods and myths being true but part of a long forgotten past; I know that Dracula exists, and most vampires don't like talking about him."

Ashbury smirks, taking a drink before she says "Well, when we met him, he was charming."

Steph jabs a thumb at Rachel "I mean, she's the one who knows all this; I'm just picking things up as I go."

"Are you sure you want to be here for this ?" Reid asks, turning his attention to Steph "You've stepped into dangerous territory by courting a vampire."

Steph nods, but raises both hands defensively "In my defense, Rachel tries to keep me in the dark for the worst of it."

"Which can be even more dangerous." Reid says "By not knowing the worst that can come, you will never be prepared for when the worse does come."

Rachel clicks her teeth before saying, leaning back in her chair "So give it to me straight, doc. What can you tell me about my disease ?"

"As I already told you, your strain is dormant. The worst that can happen is if you spread it to others." Reid says. Steph opens her mouth before Reid interrupts her "And no, it can't be sexually transmitted, but I wouldn't recommend love bites."

Rachel winces when she hears this, before she says "But what is it ? How does it work ?"

"The Blood of Hate is the very essence of the Red Queen, and her spirit. I'm sure you too have read up all about her in your so-called vampire history lessons." Reid says, with a bit of snark in his last sentence.

"So I'm carrying a malignant blood goddess inside my veins." Rachel nods, "That's comforting. And you told me she's corruptive ?"

"During a previous expedition to Blackwood Pines, I ran experiments, testing the Blood of Hate with the spirit of the beings that haunt it. It would seem the two spirits are very agreeable with each other." Reid explains "Much like these beings, in it's potent stage, it corrupts and distorts the carrier, both physically and spiritually, until no humanity remains within them."

"The Queen turned you for a purpose, Rachel Amber." Ashbury adds in "And that purpose is to spread the disease; to warp others into such monsters. That is what the Queen wishes of you, and what Mordred wishes of you."

Rachel sighs when she hears this; while there was the lingering fear and dread of carrying the apocalypse in her veins, there was the annoyance in the back of her mind telling her she shouldn't have let herself get swept up with Mordred, especially after Jefferson. Hell, unlike Jefferson, Rachel could see the red flags coming from the Knight.

When Steph hears this, her eyes widen like saucers, glancing back and forth between Reid and Rachel "This is an end of the world thing, isn't it ?"

Rachel crosses her arms "Okay, any other lies Mordred told me ? I mean, he's been pretty upfront about using my role in the vampire apocalypse. He said a lot about you, y'know."

"Yes, he tells his girls stories about us all the time. Dolores Valisari was his favorite story to tell; a teenage girl carrying a potent strain, trying to save her ailing brother, and in the process, doomed her township and county ? It's easy for Mordred to spin this as a story of Escalon slaughtering an innocent girl and wiping out her community. For me, it was like putting down a rabid dog; you don't like it, you wish you couldn't, and you wish you could cure it. Unfortunately, the cure I had on my person wasn't...it wasn't potent." Reid explains.

"So there is a cure, you say ?" Rachel raises an eyebrow.

"Yes and no." Reid says. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a veil with a clear blue liquid "Tears of Angels."

He places it on the table and pushes it to Rachel, who takes it cautiously.

"This will do nothing for your current condition." Reid says "At best it will quill your disease until it is barely a threat to yourself and those around you."

"Is there a story to go with this ?" Rachel asks, putting the veil in her purse.

"This is an imperfect strain, and all I could find in the past ninety seven years." Jonathan nods "I do know there was a perfect strain, but it is beyond human reach." Reid sighs, taking a drink before he says "Perhaps one day, I will tell you of that expedition."

He turns his attention to Steph.

"As for you, is there anything else you know ?"

Steph pauses before she says "I was told a lot, but I'm still trying to take all this in."

Steph puts a finger on her temple and sighs again before she says.

"So what I'm getting at is, this vampire goddess you're talking about wants to use my girlfriend to start some sort of zombie/vampire style outbreak; that my girlfriend has a disease that can turn people into twisted monsters ? And if my Vampire History - as you put it - is correct, I take it this Mordred guy you're talking about isn't just some guy giving himself an edgy nickname ? And he's been trying to groom my girlfriend for this purpose ?"

Reid and Ashbury glance at eachother, before the latter says "That's the simplistic version of it, yes."

Steph chuckles bemusedly before she says "Is there anything else I need to know about ?"

Reid and Ashbury exchange another glance.

From there, Ashbury and Reid spilled to the younger couple on the "Need to Know" stuff. They kept them in the dark on how their family, loved ones and allies were personally affected.

Rachel and Steph learned of the old Ascalon Club; how it's former Lord Redgrave was exiled after being exposed for fraud. Of how a new Ascalon was found by Ashbury, recognized as the de-facto heir to William Marshall. Which has led to a reactionary split.

They learned of the vampire hunters of course; the Guard of Priwen, or the Order as they were called in their more secretive days. Supposedly founded by the Knight Lancelot after the days of Arthur.

In the first few decades of the 20th century, they too became splintered by reactionaries in the face of progress. The leader of the split was Jean Margot, who went on to lead the Guard as an underground organization.

In the present day, the Guard masquerades as a private militia, but operates through underworld and criminal organizations. Now-a-days, they have taken to recruiting criminals so as to add to their numbers, and better work in plain sight.

In recent years, the Guard have become working allies with another organization, locally known as The Federal Bureau of Control.

It was otherwise a neutral party, only keeping their eyes on whoever would be the biggest threat. Even so, Ascalon, the Guard, even the Mother's Children, all had eyes and ears in the FBC - someone to provide information when needed.

"So what now ?" Rachel says, taking all this in.

"Now, it entirely depends on your next course of action, Miss Amber." Jonathan says "Had you proven to be a threat to us, we would have taken measures in our own hands, but so far you've proven to be benign; you've yet to do anything Escalon hasn't already. There may be some use for you to Escalon."
Before continuing, he glances at Steph.

"Are you sure you want to be here for this ?"

Steph shrugs "I'm already down the rabbit hole. Might as well see how far it goes."

"Hell deep, Miss Gingrich." Reid says, turning his attention back to Rachel "It comes to our understanding you are involved in fight clubs and the..." He hesitates to say the word "Adult industry, which Mordred has used as fronts. We can use that."

Reid takes a phone out of his jacket pocket, opens the photos app, and slides it to Rachel. On screen there is a crowded picture taken from the fight club; it particularly focuses a Caucasian, top heavy but bottom narrow man, with brown hair, dressed in a green jacket and black jeans.

"Look familiar ?" Ashbury asks.

"I may have seen him around." Rachel nods, but is unsure where.

"Is this supposed to be Mordred ?" Steph asks, as Rachel zooms in on the photo.

"He is a proxy to Mordred. He's in charge of keeping an eye on you while the man himself is out of state." Ashbury says "He goes by the pseudonym, Leo Smith."

"There's not much to hide with him." Reid explains further "Son of a rich family, as too much of a mad dog to be kept on a leash; was arrested in 2007 for sexual assault and exploitation of two minors, arson and battery. Despite his arrest, he had enough underworld connections that Mordred decided he'd be used as a patsy, and helped get him a lighter sentence. In return, Mordred told the same story as he did with you, but was a little more honest with his intentions."

Rachel and Steph look down at the picture, handing it back to Reid, before the former says "I see, and you're planning on making this Leo disappear."

"We were planning to do it ourselves, like we did with Prescott." Ashbury says.

This gets Rachel and Steph to look up.

"Wait," Steph says, putting two fingers on her temple "You mean to say, you made Sean Prescott-"

"That is beside the point." Ashbury smiles coyly "Our point is, Smith has been dodging us for some time. We believe that since he's watching you, we believe you can get close to him."

"And blind Mordred's view of me," Rachel nods, drumming her fingertips along the table as she thinks it over "Won't he send someone else though ?"

"Pretty bold to assume you're the only one Mordred had his eyes on. With what happened in Arcadia Bay, Jefferson and Prescott's work created an assembly line of girls to make into the Queen's champion. If it wasn't you, they'd take Kate Marsh for example, or Victoria Chase, even Chl-" Asbury stops herself when she sees the way Rachel and Steph are looking at her "My point is, the minute Mordred was done roping you into this, he would seek out another one of Arcadia Bays victims or survivors. He has his eyes on them already. All you are to him, is another sacrifice to his mother. He loses you, he can pick another girl's name out of the hat."

"You do this for us, Rachel, and you will give us a window of opportunity." Reid explains "It is rare we have one who is infected such as yourself; someone we know we can work with."

"What, and make me your Guinea pig ?" Rachel crosses her arms.

"Not the word I'd use." Reid sighs "That implies dehumanization. No, what I want is to perfect what I have uncovered. In the past century, I have only found three healthy - for lack of a better word - patients infected with this disease. One had a strain that was so dormant, it left me with too little to work with. The other had too potent a strain; nothing I could do was of any value."

"Um," Steph interrupts, "I don't mean to be a bother, but this is starting to be a little much to take in at once." She quietly gets up from her seat and jabs a thumb over her shoulder "Just gonna step out for a few."

As Steph's about to take her leave, Ashbury gets up after her "If I may join you ? There is something about you that makes me curious..."

Steph freezes like a deer in the headlights before she says "S-sure, if you say so."

Steph takes her leave to the ladies room, Ashbury follows closely behind her.

As they leave, Ashbury can be heard starting a new conversation "So, it is my understanding you were an Arcadia Bay denizen as well..."

When it was just Jonathan and Rachel, she finally asks "Is there anything else you want to go over, like things you don't want Steph to know ?

"It is curious how much we look into you, and find two very different things about Miss Gringrich. I am wondering what else you know ?"

"Not much more than you I guess. I keep hearing about X Y and Z when I look into it myself. Even Mordred took a look and not even he can say for certain why she's here." Rachel shrugs "Anything else you want to talk about while yours Mrs and my better half are on smoke breaks ?"

"What's there to talk about ?" Reid asks.

"Mary ?"

Reid gets a defensive look on his face "What about Mary ?"

Rachel looks at Reid's expression before she continues "Look, we don't have to talk about what happened between your sister and I years ago. I get it played a part in me getting marked by the Queen."

"But..?"

Rachel hesitates a little before she says "I knew her for like three days, but she told me quite a bit about her family and history. Now obviously, she kept a bit about herself in the dark. She told me you had this on and off kind of relationship, that she has been a black sheep of sorts over the decades."

Reid leans down with a furrowed brow "Aside from what my sister...usually does with the girls she marks, what exactly happened between you two ?"

Rachel hesitates before she starts.

"Mary, may have saved my life or made my death worse. Either way, I wouldn't be walking, talking or blood sucking without her." Rachel leans in herself, "She knew I was here, and came with you. Obviously there's more to Mary than I saw then..."

----

Portland Oregon, March 9th, 2013, Quality Inn Suite

When Rachel awoke that morning, her head was spinning. The light was killing her eyes, and the cold air gave her skin a startle.

As Rachel's eyes adjust and her head stops ringing, it takes a minute for things to click together.

She was naked, was in a two person bed, with her partner out of bed; her legs were sore and her sex felt sensitive. She saw a used condom, hanging out a bin at the side of the room, and Rachel found herself feeling bad for the housekeeper having to cleanup.

Rachel could see the bathroom light was on and faintly heard the shower running.

As Rachel got up, she went to her case to pick out some clothes. She figures she'll hit the shower after Mark, and wash away the sex smell. She decides to check her phone, and sees she's got three unread messages.

Two of them were from Chloe as expected.

The first one was Chloe was updating on her trip to Grandma Beth's; she thinks the trip is gonna be cut short, as Joyce and Beth has a pretty bad disagreement.

The second one was Chloe asking Rachel if she could stay at her apartment in case the trip is cut short.

Rachel turns on her phone, and calls back.

"Rachel ?" Chloe's voice asks.

"Chloe, it's me." Rachel answers, holding her phone between her shoulder and head as she pulls her pants on "Am I calling too late ?"

"Not yet," Rachel could imagine Chloe shaking her head "I've been trying to cool off. My grandma's feeling a little better. Nothing too bad has happened yet."

"How bad was it ?"

"Mom brought up stepdouche, said the same things to grandma as she said to me." Chloe sighs sullenly "Anyways, I don't wanna talk about it. How's things on your end ?"

"I've been better." Rachel says, putting her phone on speaking as she puts her bra back on and pulls her shirt over her head "But I've had worse. Just need to clear my head is all."

"Look," Chloe says "I don't want you to feel like you owe me or anything, but I'm gonna send a few thousand your way when I get the chance."

Rachel grits her teeth. That's the money she was gonna pay Frank back with, and Chloe's share of what they were saving for "Chloe, you don't have to-"

"C'mon, you're spending how much on this little trip of yours, I just don't want you to have to spend more when you come back." Chloe says.

Sera. Chloe was talking about Sera.

Had Rachel accepted her father's "apology checks", she probably wouldn't have had to rely on Chloe's charity.

Still better than the lot of the "charity" going on in Arcadia Bay; the lot of them are scams, but people like to pat themselves on the back for saying they are giving to a good cause; on the back of their minds they had to know they were just lining Prescott's pockets.

At least Chloe's being upfront here. Sera doesn't have that many people left, and her father's "charity checks" disappeared after her passing.

In all likelyhood, James probably thinks Rachel will come back to him on her own now that Sera is out of the picture. Wouldn't spend a dime on his exes funeral, just wanting to sweep it all under the rug.

"Sure, Chloe." Rachel sighs sadly "Tell you what, I'll be back from clearing my head in a day or two. We can talk more then."

"O-okay." Chloe stutters slightly "See you then."

Rachel has redressed, and turns to see the bathroom door open. Out steps Jefferson, wearing a dark pair of pajama bottoms and a white towel around his shoulders. He had his glasses on his forehead and takes them off to wipe the fog off.

"Ah, you're up." Mark says "What did I miss ?"

"Halley's Comet." Rachel replies deadpan "It bounced between the sun and moon like a pinball, you should have seen it."

"Oh, again." Mark says with a sarcastic quip "At least you got your sense of humor back. You were a real killjoy last night."

Rachel feels herself tense when he says that, but says nothing and lets him continue.

"Like, I like acid as much as the next guy, but there's a thing called self control."

"What happened last night ?" Rachel mutters, heading to the minifridge.

"Oh, you know." Mark says, opening his bag to get some decent clothes out "You were drowsy at the exhibit, I was talking about my mother, you started crying, and I had to get us out before the situation got any more awkward."

"Sorry," Rachel sighs, taking out a bottle of apple juice from the minifridge "Don't know what came over me."

"Yeah, for future reference." Mark starts "Not everything's about you. If you got mommy issues, try keeping them to yourself."

Rachel chuckles after taking her drink "That's rich, given your presentation."

Mark shakes his hand, snapping his fingers and holding his hand out, indicating to Rachel he wants a drink too. Rachel hands him her bottle.

When Mark takes his drink, he says "Look, I know where you're coming from, but I don't let my mom getting cancer hold me back or anything. In fact I made the most of it; that's what my final exhibit was about."

"Whatever." Rachel sighs.

"Look, I get it. Losing a parent sucks and all, but you know, it's like losing a pet; you might get sad at first, but then you just get over it." Mark shrugs.

"Just get over it ?"

"If we let every loss bother us, not a lot of people are gonna wanna be around you if you do. So you lose a parent, big whoop, right ? Life is for the living." Mark says, getting up and putting a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel looks away from Mark; it was kind of hard to look him in the eye with what happened between them the night before, and what they were talking about now.

Rachel steps aside from Mark and makes her way to the bathroom "Gonna hit the shower; got a smell to kill." she says dryly.

----

About an hour or so later, a freshly dressed Mark and Rachel made a trip to a café.

Jefferson was in his usual getup, but Rachel wore a black jacket, buttoned all the way up, with a set of leather pants and high heels; she wore a white beret and a set of shades, no doubt trying to obscure her age.

They didn't make todays breakfast anything spectacular, just a dish of pancakes, drinks of coffee and a blueberry muffin on the side.

While Mark was running his mouth about his early career, this past girlfriend of his and this student of his who reminded him of Rachel (who may or may not be the aforementioned girlfriend).

As for Rachel ? Her mind was a galaxy away.

One side of her brain finds herself staring out the window, thinking about Mary's offer.

"Just one more year in Blackwell," Rachel would think. One more year to be out of she'd be out of Arcadia Bay, and have a new connection in the industry.

That's the hard way of course, and Rachel, being more of a woman of emotion and impulse, kept wondering what the easy way was. If she had it her way, she'd be out of Arcadia Bay by October.

The other side of her brain was thinking about Sera and what Mark told her.

If she went by what Mark just told her, losing someone is like getting stung by a bee; it hurts at first but that feelings not gonna be around forever.

If you let a single bee sting bother you, you're just holding yourself back.

Rachel thinks of the time she spent at the Price-Madsen house; she heard of how Joyce and David met, of how quick Joyce seemed to get over her Bee Sting seeing as there were scarcely pictures of William in the house. It was a pretty ugly scene when she and Chloe found them in a box in the basement.

Was the same expected of Chloe ? And is the same expected of Rachel herself ?

Mark seems to notice Rachel isn't paying attention to him, and leans forward.

"...So when I gave her a second dose, she ended up bleeding from her nose and choked to death on her own vomit. It wasn't a pretty picture, but at least I'd know she wouldn't blab. Buried her on the spot; not like anyone's gonna be snooping there."

"Hmm, hmm." Rachel nods, apparently thinking Mark was talking about the weather or something.

"Dammit, Rachel!" Mark all but shouts.

"What ?" Rachel turns to Mark, incredulously raising an eyebrow.

"There you go! Stuck in your own little world." Mark sounds like he's holding himself back from snapping, before sighing heavily "It's my fault I guess; I probably shouldn't have dragged you along for this."

"N-no," Rachel shakes her head "I want to be here, it's just-"

"You're just stuck in the past ?" Mark nods, trying to sound calm, but admittedly it put Rachel on the edge.

Rachel couldn't put her finger on it; she slept with Mark twice, albeit she was out of it at the time; what is it about Mark that has her so nervous ?

"I don't know how else to put it Rach," Mark sighs "You want out of the woods; you wanna spread your legs and fly, but I think there's something holding you back."

Rachel says nothing, just stares as Mark continues.

"Or someone. It's your mom, isn't it ?" He says, still trying to sound calm, and understanding "Look, I can't tell you how to feel, but I also can't hold your hand throughout all of this. So, tell you what ? Why don't you, I don't know, talk about her, tell me what makes her so special ?"

Rachel stares at Mark as if she were at a loss for words, but still, she finds out what to say.

"She's my mom; she's the reason I'm here." Rachel says weakly.

Then Rachel finds herself spilling her guts; about how her parents marriage fell apart due to Sera's drug habit; how her father tried to keep Rachel away from Sera well after the latter's recovery; and while leaving out certain details.

How her father got Sera back on the stuff, and causing her to fall off the wagon...which eventually killed her, right as she and Rachel were trying to rebuild something between them.

All the while, Mark stares with a calm and understanding expression on his face before he says "Oh. So that's it ? That's your big loss ?"

Mark lets out a chuckle, and Rachel finds herself taken aback by this.

"I'm sorry," Mark chuckles again "I was expecting something a little bigger than that. By the sounds of it, it wasn't even that big of a loss."

Rachel finds herself getting a little angry, but not enough to make a scene. She tries to keep calm but lets out a shaky breath and a quiet "Fuck you."

"I'm sorry, but from what you're telling me; this woman Sera, just had you and left. She was a stoner, the kind of person who would have held you back in life. A junkie. Who went out the way all go, no less. And from what you also tell me, she wasn't in your life that long. So I really have to ask; is she really someone worth crying over ?"

Rachel finds herself slack jawed at not only what Mark was saying, but his tone. The kind that says 'I'm an understanding and empathetic individual, so I'm gonna juxtapose it with words of extreme apathy and disdain.'

"How could you say that ?" Rachel asks, at the edge of snapping herself.

"Easy. I open my mouth."

Huffing indignantly, Rachel gets up from her table, making her way to the diner door.

Mark sighs and gets up to follow her.

"Rachel, come on." He says calmly "Don't be so hysterical."

Once outside, Rachel doesn't make her way to Mark's car, but rather towards the sidewalk.

Mark hurriedly walks after Rachel, taking her by the wrist.

"Rachel, listen, I know your upset but you'll see-"

"FUCK OFF!!!" Rachel shrieks, causing Mark to stop and look around. A few passerby's shoot them a glance, but continue on their way; a few still glare daggers at Mark,

Not liking the way he's being looked at, Mark does his best to keep a calm and collected tone and expression.

"Okay, clearly I upset you. That ones on me. I really shouldn't have brought you out here, had I known you get so emotional. I'm sorry, Rachel, really I am."

Rachel says nothing as Mark turns to take his leave.

"When you're ready to come back, I'll be at the suite. You take all the time you need, but don't daddle. I'll be heading back tomorrow."

With that, Mark heads back to the parking lot, gets in his car, pulls out and drives off. He gives Rachel a wave as he passes her to the Suites...which where about five blocks from here.

In the back of her mind, Rachel knew she should have tried to stop him, chase him down and apologize. Though at the front of her mind, Rachel knew that's what he wanted. To be the big man who puts the little girl in her place. Well, fuck that, and fuck him.

Hands in her pockets, and no where in particular to go, Rachel finds herself going up the streets of Portland. With a grimace on her face, and near frozen tears in her eyes, Rachel has been walking to make up for the fact she is undressed for the weather.

She could barely check her phone; the temperature killed the battery pretty quickly. She could have been walking for an hour or ten minutes, and she wouldn't have noticed.

All she could pay attention too was that icky feeling in her stomach; that one that tells her she needs a fill of something, be it sex, drugs or drinks; whatever it takes to get her escapism fixed. Not a feeling you should have this early in the morning.

The cold didn't help at all.

Honestly, if Rachel were asked to sell her body to get her fix, she's 50/50 on saying yes. That's how bad things are getting.

And as if the world were saying "Be careful what you wish for!" Rachel hears something pull up. When she turns around, she sees a bright red Bravado Buffalo pulling up to the sidewalk, right beside her. As the cold girl pulls to a stop, she turns around to see the passenger window roll down.

"You know, far be it from me to judge ones fashion sense." A familiar British woman's voice says. It takes a second for Rachel's eyes to adjust to see that it is Mary Reid "But it doubt it's fitting for this weather."

Rachel says nothing but stares, a little confused and worried about how Mary, of all people, where to find her here. Maybe Portland's a smaller city than Rachel thought. Or maybe she's being followed.

Weighing her options, she figured it might beat freezing to death. Cautiously, Rachel leans down at the window; Mary is in a considerably more mundane outfit than the night before; a dark blue zeagoo eagoo, red turtle neck underneath.

And while Rachel wishes she could reserve herself, she found her eyes wandering down Mary's legs, she could help but ogle a little at those form fitting beige slacks.

Despite herself, Rachel finds her voice "You're following me aren't you ?"

Mary shrugs "Can't a girl get her coffee without seeing a date go south ? Can't a girl be a little concerned to see a student out on the cold, cold streets."

Rachel winces a little, and finds herself shiver a little, though she can't tell if its from the cold or the way Mary playfully flutters her eyes.

"Fuck it." Rachel sighs "Beats freezing my ass off."

Rachel opens the passenger door, closing it as she takes her seat. She shudders in relief at how toasty the heater feels.

"All better ?" Mary asks, starting to drive.

Rachel takes a minute to check herself in the mirror; her face is still red and her eyes are glassy from the cold, but she's looked worse.

"Almost," Rachel nods "Just take us where we need to go."

"And that would be ?"

"Somewhere quiet. Isolated." Rachel sighs, looking out the window at the buildings passing.

"If it works for you."

Rachel felt herself relax more and more as Mary drives off, letting the sounds and song on the radio, and the warmth of the heaters, all get to her.

Mary was driving for however long, before they eventually reached their designation; an otherwise empty and isolated, a spacious parking lot. They had reached Hoyt Arboretum, and by the looked of it, had about a dozen or so spots to themselves.

"I figured this is as good a spot as any. Mary says stopping the car.

"This ? This'll do." Rachel takes a second to reserve herself and nod, before turning to Mary "Now, how you want it ?"

Mary's calm smile doesn't falter, but her eyes look non plussed "I beg your pardon ?"

"I can make it real quick." Rachel says taking off her jacket, shaking her hair as she takes her hat off "That's about all I can do."

Rachel holds her hand out a wiggles her fingers.

"I can get you off this way." Rachel says, before making a V shape with her index and middle finger "Or this if you prefer." before wiggling her tongue in the space between them "My record is a minute and a half, you know."

Mary just stares with a flat smile on her face, and it takes Rachel a few seconds to read her eyes and realize.

"I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't go as far just yet." Mary says with an amused giggle.

"Oh fuck! Oh Shit! I'm sorry!" An absolutely mortified Rachel blushes and covers her face.

Mary just chuckles and pats Rachel on the back "No, I get it; powerful business woman, picking up a young lady off the streets in the blistering cold, taking her somewhere isolated. A horror story as old as time. One I'm sure you're familiar with, given the company you keep."

Rachel looks at Mary with a questioning expression, and Mary stares back with a coy one.

"Oh come now!" Mary smirks "You don't really think I wasn't gonna do a background check ? Especially when Mark Jefferson shows up with one of his students ?"

"I swear, he told me he could take me places." Was the first thing Rachel thought to say. She wasn't lying, but at the same time, it sounded like she was trying to make an excuse for herself, but Mary raises a hand.

"I can't judge; you're nineteen, new to the real world. I was nineteen too, you know five years ago."  Mary waves dismissively "You're not the first to have a relationship like this. I wooed a Professor myself back in the day - well, a Professor's assistant - point is I've been where you are before."

Rachel sighs and looks out the window "This is the part where you tell me, it's not my fault, right ? That I'm just a naïve schoolgirl, in over her head, getting herself into something that can and will hurt her down the road ?"

Mary shrugs "That power is in your hands, Rachel Amber; though had you been a few years younger, I'd get people involved like that." she empathizes her point by snapping her fingers "But seeing as you're looking to get in the business anyways, I figure I can show you the ropes myself. But first...how often have you been to Portland ?"

Rachel looks back at Mary and shakes her head.

"Like three times, but not since I was a kid. My family and I didn't do a lot of sight seeing."

"Well, I'm glad I brought you here then." Mary says "This place get's so lonely in the winter, and I do enjoy having someone to talk to."

----

February 5th, 2015, Venue Restaurant, Los Angeles

Rachel slowly stops her story with a shake of her head.

"Not much to say actually. We spent the day together, the evening, and we ended up having-" Rachel stops herself at the annoyed glance Reid is giving her "She ended up marking me."

Reid nods with an understanding expression "And I take it you aren't looking forward to a reunion. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Same to you, but there's more I want to know." Rachel says "You said you had your eyes on Arcadia Bay. As does Mordred."

"That is true."

"How much do you know ?"

Reid shrugs "I don't understand-"

"How long have you known what was happening ?" Rachel says, her voice taking a surprisingly stern quality.

Reid keeps a calm and understanding expression and nods.

"We didn't find out until after the fact; Jefferson, Prescott, the Dark Room. By the time we turned up, Mark Jefferson was already arrested and the Agencies needed a little push when it came to the Prescott's. Of course, taking care of Prescott senior helps things." Reid says, a knowing smirk briefly flashes on his face, before going right back to a more stern one "But I promise you we didn't know the full truth until word got out. By the time we stepped in, we were seeking something else."

"Care to explain ? I don't like being led on by vague details."

Before Reid can answer, their attention was caught by, noticing both Steph and Ashbury coming back from the ladies room.

"-And I try to let her down gently, you know ? Musicals aren't for everyone." Steph says, having apparently had an extensive conversation with Ashbury. Looks like the two made fast friends.

"You haven't been talking about us behind our backs, have you ?" Rachel teases.

"We talked about you, we talked about Blackwell, we even talked D&D." Steph says chipperly, taking her seat beside Rachel.

Asbury nods with an "unfortunately" expression on her face, which indicates she was told of how much of a noob Rachel was at the game (in which Rachel underwent the tabletop equivalent of gamer rage).

"So what did we miss ?" Steph asks, as Ashbury takes her own seat.

"Dr. Reid was about to talk about Arcadia Bay; what they found looking into it."

Both Ashbury and Reid noticeably hesitate before the former says "There wasn't much to look into; we found out about the Dark Room, how Mordred's followers were in the area, and how the Queen picked out her newest champion." Ashbury gestures to Rachel to empathize her point "Every now and then we look into the other girls involved in the case."

"Kate Marsh, Victoria Chase, all of them." Reid adds.

"Do they know-?" Steph starts to ask.

"No," Reid shakes his head and waves dismissively "As far as we know, the survivors aren't aware of the supernatural in any form. In any case we have bigger fish to fry..."

"Well, don't keep us guessing. You said yourself, it's best we're kept out of the dark." Rachel crosses her arms.

"How much do you know of Myrddin Wilt ?"

Rachel thinks about it for a few seconds and nods.

She read up extensively on him for "vampire history"; the Red Queen's biological "son", and her main adversary. The reasons vary depending on what mythology you follow, but he is said to fight for the betterment of humanity, and how this whole business of vampire champions is a proxy war between mother and son.

He was the source of stories if many beings in European folklore and myth; Merlin, Lugh, and of course Myrddin Wilt, as he now goes by. As Rachel learned more the Celtic mythology, Lugh was the name she usually considered.

Point is, if she was turned to be the Queen's champion, would that mean Myrddin had to have picked a new champion as well, right ?

"What about him ?"

"After spending a near century under our radar, sightings of him have been occurring in the Arcadia Bay area, around the same time as Jefferson's operations." Ahbury explains. "It's our belief that he was seeking a new champion."

Both Rachel and Steph glance at eachother "That's...good right ?"

Reid shrugs "Depends on who he turns; I can tell you from experience that with every champion turned, the tide turns as well. In the right hands and the right choices, the power Myrddin grants can be used for good, or can create a monster of the same league as Mordred."

"Tell us, when was the last you heard from the Blood Mother ?" Ashbury asks, placing a worried hand on Rachel's.

Rachel hesitates as she thinks back "I- I think it was a year ago. Why's that important ?"

"The last I saw Wilt was December of 2013. And he already named his champion." Reid explains, taking a photograph out of his coat pocket "And it's imperative we find him before Mordred or his acolytes do."

Reid places the photo on the table between them; Nathan Prescott.

"Look familiar ?"

----

Cornish Commons Dormitories, Seattle , March 24, 2015

Kate Marsh was wiping the suds out her eyes.

It probably wasn't the smartest idea of showering before joining her friends out clubbing, but she needed to freshen up. Besides if this night was gonna go where she thinks it's going, she wanted to be clean before she got dirty.

It has been a few months now since Kate started shedding her sweet, innocent church girl image. After a year or so of her church exploiting her trauma and patting themselves on the back for "helping" her as if they were not the ones putting her through hell in the first place.

It started back in January when Kate really let her church group have it over a Facebook post. It boiled down to a speech about how if any of them actually genuinely cared about her, they wouldn't have put her through this, and how all they ever cared about was exploiting her trauma and patting themselves on the back for their "Good Samaritan" act.

In the meantime, Kate has been spending more time with Max, Victoria, and all the other girls left behind from Arcadia Bay. But for one reason or another, she was drawn to Victoria.

If you were to say two years ago that not only would Kate and Victoria would become close friends, but close enough that rumors of them being a couple were to be commonplace...well, then you might be a clairvoyant (use your power wisely if that's the case).

Eventually, the very people who tried to focus on Kate as an exploitable victim, became turned off by her. As of this year, Kate started dressing more boyishly, became a regular user of pot, developed a love for rock music and the party scene. She even got a pink stripe dyed into her hair to go with a new look.

In these months, people from Kate's old group would try to reach out to her, with "Thoughts and prayers"; Kate rejected their "support" all the time, to the point that the only ones still willing to support her are her father, sisters and grandmother.

Above all else, Kate wanted to explore her sexual or romantic preference. And she had her eye on one person in particular.

It started in the therapy groups; Kate and Victoria had their one on one sessions, slowly growing something of a friendship. And the more Kate became close with Victoria, the more Kate pushed away from her toxic church environment.

The irony of the two finding healing  and forgiveness outside their church was lost on no one. Kate thinks her realization of her feelings happened around the time she and Tori had a monster movie marathon; cuddling up on  a couch, subconsciously stroking each others hair would do that.

And being her current roommate didn't help.

Tonight, Kate decided to try her luck. Come out in a very public way, and test the waters to see if Victoria would accept her or reject her. They were joining their friends for a trip to the club scene, and Kate wanted to freshen up for the night.

Deciding she was sufficiently clean after fifteen minutes, Kate turned off and stepped out of the shower. She looked at the towel rack, and saw none there. She looked at the towel closet, and saw none there.

With a frustrated huff, Kate closes the closet, only to just then remember that Tori was doing laundry earlier. An hour ago Victoria said she was gonna pick out some groceries before their trip, so Kate had the room to herself as far as she knew.

Without a hint of modesty, Kate snuck out the bathroom and to Victoria's bedroom and sure enough there were four folded towels among the fresh and folded clothes.

Already annoyed she was dripping water everywhere, Kate took her towel and got to drying herself off with gusto. In a minute she buried her head into the towel, drying off her matted wet hair to the best of her ability, when she heard something drop.

Taking the towel off, Kate turned to see a wide eyed and slack jawed Victoria Chase, having dropped her purse at the side of her bedroom door.

Having grown pale, save for her pink cheeks, Kate herself was mortified beyond words and had to say the one thing that could get her out of this mess.

"....You should have hung these up." Kate says sheepishly.

Victoria looks away with an embarrassed smile "Yeah, um, sorry...I was-"

"Distracted." Kate asks, wrapping the towel around her body.

She's guessing from the look in Victoria's eyes, that her being naked in her bedroom wasn't what set her off, but the abruptness of her situation. She spots the way Tori's eyes linger a little, before Victoria finds her voice.

"You're not...planning to go out in that are you ?" Victoria tries to joke, gesturing to the towel wrapped Kate "I mean, I can appreciate you trying a new look, but I'm a one step at a time girl."

"Nah, I'll be lying if I said I didn't consider going goth though." Kate winked as she picked her own clothes out from the bed. Really, anything that says "Tomboyish Party Girl" will do "Next time, it'll do you good to put my clothes on my bed. Or towels on the rack."

"I'll keep that in mind." Victoria tries to look away as Kate drops her towel.

When Victoria turns around for her, Kate starts redressing herself. Kate smiles a little when she thinks she senses Victoria turn to sneak a peek. She's wondering if she should try her luck now, but she doesn't want to rush it. If she's gonna sneak a kiss, it'll be when all eyes are on her.

Besides, kissing her like this could lead to other things, and Kate doesn't want to jump into it on her first time.

Before Kate herself could make the decision, they heard their doorbell buzzing. And before Kate gets a word out, Victoria's already making her way to their door.

As Kate finishes dressing back up, Victoria opens to see one of her neighbors.

"Heyo," a friendly looking twenty something year old acquaintance of theirs says.

It was Asa Boorman, another student at Cormish, who lives in an apartment just down the block, but for one reason or another kept getting Kate and Tori's mail.
As the envelopes in his hand indicate, this was the case yet again.

"You know," Victoria says, taking the envelopes "At this rate, I'm starting to think these mix-ups are on purpose."

"I wouldn't worry too much." Asa says "More likely a bug in the system."

Victoria rolls her eyes. It's not that Asa was annoying - in fact they normally got along whenever they cross paths - but he lays it on a little thick with the socially awkward nerd thing. He was always wearing a set of glasses or baggy clothes (in this case a grey hoodie) that makes him seem to be on the slim side.

He first met them months back in group therapy, and was open about his traumatic upbringing and dysfunctional family life; he product of incestuous rape (his mother raped her half-brother) and how his father tried to kill him later in life. Despite this, Asa seemed like an otherwise well adjusted guy.

When Blackwell's students began attending this therapy group, Asa has since become decently acquainted with them, especially Kate and Victoria.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting anything ?" He asks.

Victoria shakes her head "No sorry, Kate and I-"

"Date night." He says with a smirk "I knew it was a matter of time."

Victoria chuckles, shaking her head as a small pink tint appears on her face. Taylor and Juliet said the same thing earlier.

"No, it's not that." Victoria says "It's more like girls' night in general."

Victoria looks over her shoulder. Kate wasn't out of the bedroom yet, so she figured she could afford a few minutes of small talk.

"What about you ? What's on tonight's agenda ?"

"Oh, nothing much." Asa waves dismissively "I mean, I am working on a project, but it'll take a while before it's ready. Figured I crash in for the night. Just wanted to make sure you got these first."

Asa looks over Victoria's shoulder to see Kate in her "clubbin" getup step out.

"Well, good luck with that." Kate says, already putting on her coat.

"And you, Marshmallow, have the best of luck on girl's night." He says with a friendly wink, before turning and taking his leave.

As Victoria closes the door behind her, she turns to see Kate crossing her arms "What ?"

"You're not going out like that, right ?" Kate says, gesturing to Victoria's clothes; the kind she wears as a college student, not a party girl bringing her A-Game.

"Let me freshen up." Victoria smiles "You start the car, call the girls, tell them I'll be a few."

Victoria tosses Kate the keys, but as she passes by, Kate grabs her by the shoulder "And Tori ?"

Victoria looks at Kate, who leans in and whispers with a teasing smirk.

"You can dress in my room." Kate says with a wink "That'll make us even."

-----

Closing his apartment door behind him, Asa took off his glasses and set his heavy grey hoodie aside on the back of one of his chairs. It was time for Mordred to shed his disguise.

Beneath his hoodie, he wore a black tank top which showed his more muscular form as opposed to the more timid appearance his haggy old hoodie gave him. He undressed on his way to his bedroom, tossing todays disguise in the washer as he passed by.

Making his way to his bedroom, the near-millennia old damphir knight got into a more comfortable set of long johns as he flopped down onto his bed. He briefly gets back up to take his laptop out from under the bed. In minutes he's going through his files.

Out of reported dark room victims, Mordred was nearly beside himself that he and Mother's other children could get to four; he had Rachel Amber; he had Kate Marsh and Victoria Chase on his literal doorstep. He had a dozen other names he could identify as survivors, but last he checked, they weren't in Seattle.

He knew his Mother wasn't satisfied, and it bothered him a little, but he had to make do with what they got. Rachel was the first one to be marked, and the one closest to the object of the Blood Queen's desires. You'd think that would be enough, but you're better safe than sorry when it comes to satiating such a goddess.

As far back in the eighth century, Mordred promised his mother the world. It was after all, what he owed to her when she curved him from the womb of Morgause, when Arthur ran her heart through and cast her into the sea.

She was the one who ensured he would grow beyond the whelp and become the knight and King who'd bring Europe to his knees. It was something she reminded him constantly.

What Mordred has his eyes on now, was two girls in particular. It was a picture taken years ago, before the Red Queen started pulling her strings in Arcadia Bay.

Max Caulfield and Chloe Price.

He first met Max back in January, at the time he was donning his "Asa" persona. In fact, Max was the first one he approached. He tried being nice, friendly, not pushy. As far as she knew, he was "Traumatized Teenager/Young Adult No. 24601". Though the results left much to be desired.

That's not to say Max was mean or a bitch to him, but she kept herself at an arm's length from him at the best of times. She must have said ten things to him over his stay in Seattle, keeping company only with her friends, girlfriend and her parents. Instead he got closer with Kate and Victoria.

He'd have take them as acceptable back ups himself, except A. the bite of a damphir would do fuck all; B. there were to many eyes on those two, especially Kate; and C...He kinda sorta wanted to see where their relationship would go.

And yet, it was Max his mother wanted. Her and Chloe Price.

Well, that's what Mama, that's what Mama get's. A King, Knight and Son is as good as his word, and if Mordred couldn't keep his promises to those who followed him against Arthur, he will not let his mother down. She would be the god of this world and more; and considering what his connections in the FBC revealed to him of other worlds, he might just be held to that.

Be it warring with the King Below and the other old gods; Be it conquering that world of anthro amphibians, and the Boiling Isles of one of many demon realms, Mordred has a lot to plan for.

But that'll have to wait, for now his focus is on Max and her friends. He was planning on this for months now, and even then it could take years to see it through. But what's a handful of years to a creature such as himself ?

Mordred turns his head when he hears something; his phone going off to the tune of Don't Stop Believing.

Quickly answering it, he says "Speak."

"Don't know if they're listening, so I'll make it snappy." His contact Leo says "The lab, it's ready. The boys are ready."

"Excellent." Mordred says "You don't fuck it up. Again."

"I need to know what I'm working with." Leo answers "I need to make sure our subjects don't expire."

"I'll worry about subjects later. What we need is the source." Mordred says, moving from one file to the other, revealing a picture of Rachel Amber.

"There's one small problemo, bossman." Leo says, using words and tone he normally wouldn't have had he been speaking to his face "It seems that Amber girl's making friends."

Mordred grits his teeth, thinking he's referring to Steph. By all accounts, Steph still shouldn't be here. His sources in the FBC say she should be back in her true life; if this was a tulpa effect, it should have worn out by the end of the last year, and Rachel would have forgotten their relationship as if it were a dream.

"Don't worry about her girl," Mordred shakes his head "She won't be a problem."

"It's not the girl I'm worried about...It would seem Reid and Ashbury have turned up too."

Mordred furrows his brow and grips his phone "And Mary ?"

"We don't know yet. You want us to ice her if we find out ?"

Again, Mordred shakes his head "Take them both if you can. Rachel and Mary."

Mordred gets up from his bed, looking out over the Seattle skyline of a late winter's night.

"Do what you can to collect what we're owed. Y'know, anything short of killing them." Mordred finishes before hanging up.

Chapter Text

February , 1922, Blackwood Pines

Earlier in the night, Jonathan Reid and his partner in investigations, Geoffrey McCullum, were both visited by a stranger, Morgan.

Any other instance, the two would question why a lone man would travel alone in a forest infested with an unholy spirit. One so unholy and twisted that many fear speaking of it. When they started their experiments, they didn't quite know what they had on their hands.

Still hearing the stranger's story of cult activity in the mountains, missing children, and parents lured up as captives, put the two on duty.

The stranger Morgan was leading them up to a trial, both heavily armed and prepped for the worse.

The night was white with the wind and blowing of snow. At most they could see only trees, and even then only the ones within a dozen yards away. Despite this, Morgan seemed to know where they were going.

"We just have to find the trail; it isn't too far from here!" Morgan calls out over the wind.

"You said that twice!" McCullum shouts back, also over the wind.

"Eight minutes ago!" Jonathan adds.

"The trail is marked with red painted posts! It's how hunting parties used to find their way around the mountain!" Morgan would answer.

Seemed like a good enough answer. McCullum and Jonathan have seen these posts before, but didn't know their purpose.

Once they found the polls leading through a clearing. Morgan nods as he leads them forward.

It took thirty eight minutes, till they made their way up the trail, and up the treacherous mountain. It was then they saw what appeared to be a cave or mineshaft; it was near impossible to tell. But that wasn't all that caught their attention.

Animal carcasses; three elk, a couple of horses, and a bear, hanging upside down from surrounding trees. These were not the usual suspects; they never used intimidation tactics. Whenever they fight one or two, they tend to skip the power displays and go right to getting their hands on you.

"This is where they made their nest." Morgan says "And where they keep their prisoners."

"Are they armed ?" McCullum asks.

"To the teeth ? No," Morgan starts "They prefer to use their teeth. A few of them I've seen carry large hammers and blades, but it's mostly the living dead that do their dirty work."

"So you are saying it's not just vampires we are up against." Jonathan says.

"Monsters either way." McCullum finishes.

Jonathan and McCullum unseath their respective bladed weapons. A fight was inevitable, this was just the first time in a while they became combatants within such an environment.

A lot of their recent fights were on an open field, heavily forested areas. This many combatants in a closed space was something they were out of practice with.

With what little light their lamps gave them, the three ventured into casm.

The wind seemed to stop once they were about forty feet in. Despite the ridged looking exterior, the deeper they went the cave became oddly warm.

It could have been anywhere from five minutes to a near hour, but the three knew they were close because the smell hit.

It wasn't one of decay, or bloodshed, but...of cooking. Meat, stew, like a massive camp was having a feast. There was even the smallest orange light just within their eyesight.

“I take it we should probably follow the smell.” Jonathan says, speaking the obvious.

"The nose knows." Morgan nods, causing the two men to glance at him "I've always wanted to use that one for some time."

This was jarringly mirthful of a man supposedly traumatized by his people - including children - held captive by vampires, who supposedly tortured them. In the past two years, Jonathan and McCullum noted how some trauma victims react differently than others; some even use jokes to cope.

Still, considering how stoic he was earlier, it might be worth keeping an eye on.

When they reached a pocket of the cave, it was quite the sight.

A sixty by forty cavern, lit with torches, and campfires; makeshift beds, even cabin-like structures. An estimated thirty seven people were gathered, groups of four to six, speaking around the fires, cooking animals on small fires, singing songs, hymns even of the one called "Mother".

As for the children Morgan described...they made up and an additional twenty two people were also gathered. Many went about playing with each other, or sitting around with their parents.

"What's this ?" Jonathan asks aloud, in disbelief at the sight.

"That," Morgan states matter of factly, "Would be our former captives."

"Former ?" The champion and the guardsmen ask at the same time.

"Former. Yes. As in not anymore." Morgan says, once again, pretty matter of factly.

As Jonathan and McCullen drew their blades, cautiously as some of these folk surrounded them. They didn't know what exactly to make of this situation. Especially with children surrounding them.

"It appears we have further explaining to do." Morgan says.

----

Venturing deeper into the cave, neither Reid nor McCullum knew exactly what to do.

In any other circumstance, they would in fact be fighting their way out of these caves, and leave no survivors of the vampires. Thing is, these were not vampires, and the children they were expecting to save, walked around them as if to protect the adults.

"I'm sure you are confused. I can assure you we will explain everything momentarily." Morgan says as they made their way to a particularly warm cavern where a makeshift dining hall was formed.

No doubt the tables, chairs, plates and dining utensils were taken back from their homes or villages, but there was much more to explain.

Such as how they were able to get and cook their meals, but it seems hunting was as good an explanation as anything.

Several people already took their seats, and Morgan gestured to Jonathan and McCullum to do the same.

As uncomfortable and confusing as their situation was, the duo had little other option but to comply.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and the simple answer is I have been giving you half truths; my people here are not captives. We haven't in two months. And this isn't a rescue. No one here has been slaughtered or sacrificed." Morgan explains "At least not of their own volition."

"Then tell us, what is happening ?" McCullum asks, quickly growing impatient.

"Some of what I tell is true. It is here where our people were lured; at first we would stay for a few days, for we heard her voice calling to us in these depths." Morgan answers.

"We were called because her voice calls to us." A young woman, presumably in her mid teens answers.

"The Blood Mother." All the children answer at once.

"It is her power that keeps us safe." A young man says.

"The abominations that haunt these woods; wouldn't touch this mountain, the blood is too strong for them." Another woman says.

"They came to our village, fed upon us by the dozen. The Mother's herald leads the children to the safest of these caves. We had no other option but to go with her. We were able to return for supplies, but we are only safe here." Morgan says.

"Who is she ?" Jonathan asks, quickly realizing that the newest disaster is here. If this was some sort of lure or trap against him.

He was ready for anything.

"She is here, Dr. Reid." Morgan says "And she has been waiting to see you for a long, long time."

He gestures to a dark cavern neighboring this one.

From it emerges a woman is a red dress, that would be elegant had it not been worn out with age, and exposure. Her skin pale from the cold, in a way that stood out in comparison to the other vampires. Her hair, black and worn high, if haggard by the environment. Her eyes looked red, possibly from blood shot or constant crying.

She stares at Jonathan with a sad looking smile, and speaks in a timidly warm voice.

"Hello, dear brother." Mary Reid says with a bit of a shake.

"Mary ?" Jonathan managed to gasp out.

Time seemed to stop for Jonathan; he has seen Mary in numerous stages in her life.

 From a happy and playful little girl; a mischievous and carefree teenager; a happiness that faded as she was reared in as a proper young lady.

A loving, if timid, wife of a well meaning, if distant, husband. A mother who felt a sense of completion on the birth of her child, and tragically lost something she can never get back when her child passed.

The lost and hopeful sister who he killed...the vengeful killer who returned from the grave, who he hoped he granted peace a final time.

But this Mary - never mind that once again she has returned from the grave - looked broken. Like an overused toy.

Despite her smile, she lacked any of the passionate anger, the violence, even the mask of that young woman she was in life. With all that stripped away, now there was only pain.

As Mary takes her seat at the head of the table, Morgan notices Jonathan's aghast expression, while McCullum looks at his partner with an apparently genuine concern.

"See a ghost, Dr. Reid ?" Morgan asks.

"Wh- How- what ?" Jonathan tries to say, but can't muster the words.

"The polite thing to say when you're meeting someone is Hello." Morgan answers, he starts circling the table "I'm sure so much is going through your mind at once, Reid. The simple answer is when our mother calls, even those from beyond the grave can hear."

"She found me, Jonathan." Mary says, her voice just over a whisper "She offered me the one thing I wanted most in the world."

Jonathan is in disbelief; it can't be revenge - he recalls how he made his peace with Mary before putting her out of her misery.

Growing up, Mary would jokingly bring up dreams of becoming a queen, but he never took these jokes seriously enough for Mary to throw in her lot with the likes of the Mother's Children.

"Mary...what did they do to you ?" Jonathan asks getting up from his seat to make his way to Mary.

"Nothing you haven't already." Morgan answers for Mary "But perhaps there is more you can offer."

"She called me here Jonathan," Mary says, her brother crouching down to look her in her eyes as she averts them.

"The Red Queen." Jonathan nodded, before looking to McCullum, who himself was unsure whether he should be fighting these people.

"Mary here is a bit of a bind, good doctor." Morgan says "She cries out for freedom, our mother calls her here. Our connections told us you seek a cure for the Blood of Hate, and my people here are genuinely curious of your progress."

"A source..." McCullum thinks out loud.

They have a traitor among them. No doubt within his remnants of the Guard or worse, under Elizabeth Ashbury's hospitality.

"Swansea," McCullum thinks to himself. He knew that Reid and Ashbury made a grave error in letting him live, even as a captive.

As Morgan speaks, Mary's nose, and her ears start to bleed a little. This doesn't go past Jonathan's notice, nor those of the guests.

There's a mirthful laugh that washes over the "captive" villagers.

"Looks like Mary here has something she wants to let out." Morgan says, leaning over Mary's stomach, giving a light pat "What say you Mary? Care to share with the Doctor what ails you ?"

Without warning, Mary opens her mouth and beyond her control begins releasing an excessive amount of blood onto the table, down her dress and ono the ground beneath her.

These people continue to laugh at Mary's expense, as she falls before her brother onto the floor.

She coughs and vomits a thick, dark red liquid onto the cavern floor. Despite his natural instinct telling him to back away, Jonathan's instincts at a doctor and brother overcame them both, and he scoops Mary up into his arms, as his sister clung and shook against him.

McCullum on his part was about ready to bring a fight to the lot of these laughing, mocking fools. He was even considering forfeiting his personal code of keeping children out of his fights (unless he can help it).

"She said your name - among others - as she sleeps, you know." Morgan says taking Mary's place in her seat, leaning back with his feet on the table "She dreams of a cure for this condition, and despite what we tell her, we figured we best show her the futility of it all."

Morgan takes an apple he had on his person, and whirls casually as he peels it with a knife.

"We ?" Jonathan says, looking up scornfully at Morgan "Who are we ? Who are you ?"

Morgan smiles before biting into the apple, sucking out the juice like a starving vampire would drain a rat and tosses it aside.

"No one important." Morgan says, lying through his teeth "Just a simple farm boy at the right place, at the right time."

Jonathan knew not to believe him, but these thoughts were in the back of his mind.

What was in the front of his mind was these truths; These are The Mother's Children, some of them at least; they have Mary and had her for sometime; and most importantly, that Mary lives once more and he would not fail her again.

"So good doctor, tell us about the progress of this cure of yours." Morgan says "It's our understanding that you've been testing them on undesirables within this region."

McCullum has gotten up from his seat, making his way through and past these people to take a spot at Jonathan's side.

"You can't possibly know of that." McCullum says.

Morgan shrugs "I don't know; a little birdie has been telling me a lot; one thing in particular is how as far as your old guard is concerned...you should be dead, McCullum."

Unseen by anyone else (save Morgan), a large black bird, a raven, is perched on a rock on the cavern's corners, watching them through pale eyes.

And unbeknownst to anyone else, this bird was followed to the cave. By the very creature Jonathan has been experimenting on hours ago.

"Tell us - scratch that - Tell Mary at least; how have your attempts at fighting the Blood of Hate through medicine progressed?"

Mary weakly looks up to Jonathan "J-Johnny, what have you found ?"

Jonathan is at a loss of words, but struggles to find them anyways.

"We are on the verge Mary, but-" Jonathan is interrupted by a panicked Morgan.

"WHAT ?" Morgan says, getting up from his seat after nearly falling from it.

"My research; we are on the verge of a breakthrough." Jonathan says, looking back and forth between Mary and Morgan.

"But...?" Morgan starts expectantly.

"The first two results were unsatisfactory." Jonathan says bluntly "It's called trial and error. The error is that so far-"

Jonathan was interrupted by a long and drawn out screeching sound coming from outside the cave.

Jonathan and McCullum knew what to expect; Morgan looked taken aback. Mary was nearly roused from her stupor; several children within this group screamed and scrambled to their parents.

One mother in the group tries to reassure her four year old daughter with a whisper "Fear not little one, the Blood Mother protects us; these creatures cannot harm or reach us here."

As she says this, a pale eyed raven stares Morgan down from it's perch.

Morgan sighs deeply to himself; if it comes to that, he will fight this beast, like the Knight and soldier he was in his centuries existence. He never faced one of these before, and if the stories told to him by the natives he knew for centuries were any indication...he wasn't planning too.

But should it not come to that, these people are on their own.

Jonathan and McCullum on the other hand, had enough experience the past couple of weeks. McCullum unsheathed his sword and revolver, while Jonathan debated unsheathing his machete or keeping Mary held close; he was able to compromise by unholstering his pistol.

The creature emerged from the cavern; standing at seven and a half feet, emaciated and icy pale, nearly resembling a skeleton, it was showing symptoms of infection of the Blood of Hate.

Red liquid emerged from it's tear ducts, nose and mouth; dark red blotches appeared on it's thick skin, holding together it's self inflicted bite wounds, as the creature was driven to such a bloodlust, it would bite it's wounds in an attempt to feed from them.

The people, save for Morgan, dropped to their knees and began to pray/chant in unison. Jonathan and McCullum, were readying themselves for a fight.

"Mother of Blood; Hear our cry as we hear yours; protect us as we have before-"

The bird once again makes eye contact with Morgan, who looks away and whispers "Nevermore."

The infected beast circles the cavern, leering and sniffing down at the children. They were afraid, as children were, but still they chanted and prayed for the Red Woman they've been dreaming of to save them, and their mommies and daddies.

And then...the creature reaches down, picking a six year old boy up by the neck and lifts him towards its mouth.

Following it's loud and sickening crunch, it tosses the limp boy aside; as Morgan slinks away, McCullum makes his way to fight the beast, the captives scramble and scream as in a matter of minutes, the creature bares down on the crowd, ripping and biting down, callously stomping on whoever it can reach.

McCullum barrels his way through the panicking crowd, at this point not caring about the crossfire; the lot of these people are dead already.

He aims his revolver, one shot, two shots, and the beast staggers back. A third shot hits it in the eye, and it begins to lick the blood seeping from the wound.

With the monster distracted and McCullum close enough, he raises his sword and brings it down onto the red blotches; his last battle with the beast infected this way, showed him that these blotches are considered the soft tissue of it's usually hardened skin.

They just needed to be hacked away a little.

As the thing was cornered, it lunges down, forcing McCullum to the ground as it bit down onto his shoulder. McCullum screams out in pain, as he reaches his hand up and sticks his thumb into the bleeding eye wound.

It's teeth were practically weld together in McCullum's shoulder, reaching into his bones, when a shot rings out, hitting the infected one on a red blotch in it's shoulder blade.

This gives a knee jerk reaction, as it raises up with a screech.

McCullum takes this chance to use his good arm to take his sword and ram it through the creature's mouth.

The creature collapses in a twitching heap and Jonathan takes it by the arms and drags it towards the fire pit; better safe than sorry.

Jonathan looks around to survey the situation when their fallen adversary burns away.

The "captives" have either fled or among those slaughtered; Morgan has disappeared in the confusion, quite possibly among the slaughtered. Johnathan placed Mary on a table for her safety, where she lies barely conscious.

He turns his attention to McCullum, barely staggering to his knees.

Jonathan walks up to his comrade and hoists him up.

"Are you alright ?" The Doctor asks.

"I suffered worse from stronger." McCullum groans "What happened to it ?"

"It must have been the one we had used," Reid says, remembering what happened last time one of these unholy things was exposed to the Blood of Hate.

Be it a biological reaction or spiritual, these experiments did little more than warp them into further abominations.

"This is our fault," McCullum says, looking over the bodies, nineteen in total, all half eaten in under two minutes.

"You couldn't-" Jonathan starts.

"I was told we couldn't hunt here. That the Spirit of Lonely Places is such for a reason." McCullum starts "These creatures were not to be sought. Dikibad warned us incessantly. Their people abandoned this mountain for a reason."

"We needed acceptable subjects." Jonathan says.

"All we have to show for this is dead children, Reid." McCullum gestures to the bodies surrounding the cave floor "We were-"

"Deceived," Jonathan says "There was no way we could save those who didn't want to. They may be civilians, but they were not innocent here."

"Tell that to the little ones, hoping for their so-called goddess to save them." McCullum answers back.

This put Jonathan in a spot; he was here to save people, true. He was made a Champion to protect people, he became a Doctor for the expressed purpose of helping them. And yet the war with the Red Queen, led him to having to fight and kill the Disasters as they rose.

A doctor and a vampire. A healer by nature and a killer by one.

Every now and then, he remembers this truth, and the contradiction he was.

Jonathan turns his head as he hears Mary coughing. There he was, about to start another existential reflection on his existence. And there she was, a patient in need.

Well, he was a Doctor before he was a vampire; and a brother before he was a Doctor.

Jonathan walks up to Mary, and picks her up in a manner he is once used to. He carried her as an infant, he carried her to her second grave, and now he is carrying her for the sake of restoring her.

"What are we doing with her ?" McCullum asks.

"We came here to save people. It would seem she is the only one we can save." Jonathan says looking down as his sister drifts in and out of consciousness.

----

Three nights later, a forest fire spread throughout Blackwood Pines; Jonathan and McCullum sought to find Dikibad, or anyone with the know who could help "cleanse" the land - seven from their contacts. Their requests were refused, all receiving the same tired reply - "That Mountain is unpleasable. The Spirit of Lonely Places has made it it's home, and thus it is best to leave it a lonely place."

So with no other alternatives, when Jonathan and McCullum collected their belongings and research, they set the pines ablaze with what flammable and explosive items they already gathered.

The fire would last two hours, before snow storms overwhelmed them, and while no human casualties could be found, malformed, human-like remains were discovered.

In the back of their minds, they knew they would return.

Mary stayed by both men's side in the following days, silent and barely responsive. At times her sickness would act up, especially whenever Jonathan would try to talk to her.

During their travel, Reid took what time he had to write up his research papers; the conclusions were unsatisfactory.

Over the next eight days, by both boat, trains and automobiles, the trio made their way from Blackwood Pines, all the way to Macomb County, in Michigan.

It was there, a hundred and twenty acres of land waiting, guarded by gates, high fended, and a dense wooded area.

In its center, a forty acre field housed a three story high, Spanish Renaissance mansion.

The local residence of Elizabeth Ashbury.

----

Ashbury Estate, Sault, Michigan

It took them a day to settle in.

Mary wasn't coherent enough for a proper introduction to Ashbury, and was excused to the guest room.

McCullum was winded from the travel, and took the few days he had to get off his feet and relax, taking to another guest room.

Being a trained and seasoned hunter, still getting used to his vampirism, McCullum wasn't one who would take a break, but considering how his life and world changed, he can take whatever he gets.

Jonathan did what he usually does in such times; go to the medical "wing" of the mansion.

Ostensibly it was to finish up on his findings and progress, but really it's a coping tactic Jonathan does keep himself busy.

Of course, in this case, it helps to have someone to talk to, in this case, Elizabeth.

"...And you think it's the same as mine ?" Elizabeth asks, regarding Mary and her new apparent sickness.

"I have yet to investigate her condition myself." Jonathan says, finishing the last note on his desk, turning around in his seat upon finishing "But if our...subjects' various reactions are any example, testing her now would be too risky."

"And what of the subjects ? Tell me you're at least close to isolating the Tears of Angels."

"I am, but," Jonathan emphasizes knowing she's going to be dreading this answer "Whatever their effects are, prove temporary at best and erratic at worst. I can't risk creating something abominable from these tests, and if my latest observations are any indication, these Tears of Angels, are not medicine as I've known it, nor any modern science. When I seriously start to consider bringing in a witch doctor, I can assure you, these Tears are near beyond me. My final conclusion is that at most I would have to seek out the source."

Elizabeth nods and takes a seat in a chair opposite to Jonathan, rolling up her sleeve expectancy.

"Alright then, take what you must." Elizabeth says, before noticing the dejected look on his face.

"You're not the source, Elizabeth." Jonathan says.

"Come again ?"

"You're not the source; if anything you are the carrier. Whatever I can collect from your cured blood, would at best be a weaker strain." Jonathan gets up, shaking his head "That is the closest I can come to comprehending this cure; it is not something that medical science can recognize, and whatever your father was hiding, isn't in your possession."

"You are proposing another expedition." Elizabeth says.

"If that's what it takes." Jonathan nods.

"And Mary ? What of her ?" Elizabeth asks.

"We let her rest for now. Let her get her bearings." Jonathan sighs, averting his gaze.

"Jonathan-"

"My lady, she is sick." Jonathan insists "She's been on her feet for some time now, and we all must collect ourselves before we can do anything more."

"I see," Elizabeth says before getting up from her seat, before stopping at the door "And Jonathan, if I may ask of a personal matter ?"

Jonathan turns his head at Elizabeth "What is it ?"

"I have taken to collecting film reels recently. Even had a few theatres built here and there. The newest in my collection is..." Elizabeth says, a shade of pink appearing on her face "I have seen a number of couples attending the picture shows together and I figured we could see what it's like ?" As she says this, the infliction of her voice curves as if she's asking a question.

Jonathan feels a smile form before he asks "What is the film in question ?"

"Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror," Elizabeth answers "F. W. Murnau consulted me on the making, and gave me a copy as a gift. His way of making up for the lack of credit."

Jonathan sighs wistfully, "I suppose I did all I can for the day."

Later in the night, Jonathan, Elizabeth and McCullum gathered in Elizabeth's personal theatre to watch the picture show.

By all accounts it's ostensibly based upon Dracula (or "The Accursed One" to some vampires), although Elizabeth own commentary implied there is a partial basis in the tales of the Bird of Death and circumstances behind the Black Plague, as documented by both Ascalon and the Guard.

It pays to have an expert lend a helping hand in writing your stories.

Partway through the showing, Jonathan turned his head to see Mary watching from the corner of the room; she had a smile on her face, unlike the more quiet and reserved expression she had for days.

Mary made no attempt to enter the room, nor did Jonathan verbally address her. All others were too engrossed in the film.

----

The next evening, Mary was in considerably better spirits.

She was more proactive, talkative, and almost giddy even.

McCullum previously left the manor to talk matters over with his contacts in the Sault area.

Elizabeth was awakened to the scent of pancakes and eggs over a hot stove.

Asbury previously gave her help the night off, and on nights like these it was her butler Augustus who tended to whatever needs were left over.

Clad in her nightgown, her hair a-sight, and her eyes dark, Elizabeth Asbury made her way down the hall to the kitchen, and was greeted by the sight of Mary Reid.

Mary's hair done up - albeit clearly in a hurry- wearing a frumpy, less dignified gown than she'd wear in better times and humming a tune to herself; a little folk tune that plays in her head since she first arrived in America's; "The Rising Sun Blues", although it would later be known as "House of the Rising Sun" as it became mainstream in later decades.

"Ahem." Elizabeth addresses.

Mary turns around, placing a stack of pancakes on a plate she carried on one hand.

"Ah...you." Mary says, trying to keep up her normally suave demeanor, but considering what her body and mind has been going through for weeks now, that was easier said than done.

"What are you doing...in my kitchen ?" Elizabeth asks, a little unsure of herself.

"Cooking." Mary says bluntly "It is a rare practice for women of our standing. But to me it's an art one must appreciate...and stress relief for some."

Mary says this without bringing up how sometimes she'd cook for the girls she lured in for the Mother's Children. Part of her own motherly routine.

"I see," Elizabeth nods, "And have you spoken to anyone else ? Your brother ?"

Mary stops and straightens out "Not quite. Don't know much to say."

Mary starts scooping up the eggs, placing them on one plate, and pancakes on another.

"That being said, I have heard quite a bit of you, Lady Ashbury." Mary says, jabbing her egg lifter at Elizabeth "Didn't think my brother had it in him to steal another's heart. Not since Olivia."

Elizabeth couldn't help but snort back a laugh as she took a seat on the table.

"He's been telling me you've been sick," Elizabeth says "That you have-"

"We are all sick my dear." Mary says, placing a plate in front of Elizabeth before settling in front of a plate of her own "Vampirism, lycanthropy. I have been told of and witnessed many diseases, both that afflict the body...and the soul."

As Mary says this, she slices a pancake in half, and gulps it down with a single bite and a few chews.

"And of course, the good doctor that he is, he's working to treat our condition." Mary says "But there are some things that simply can't cure what ails us."

"He's proposing another expedition."

"For what ?" Mary asks "Another attempt to tamper with something he doesn't understand ? He and his knightly goon barely manage to survive - not defeat -  a wendigo encounter. What's next ? You're gonna seek out the aid of Baron Samedi ?" Mary adds, shuddering a bit thinking back to a visit she made to Louisiana months back.

The Loa still gives her the shakes.

"Jonathan says you've been a captive of the Mother's Children." Elizabeth says.

"A captive ?" Mary asks, unsure of herself, not exactly the word she'd use "Of course."

Elizabeth thought carefully of what to say next, barely even touching her dish.

"Care to talk about your time or-?"

"Not particularly." Mary says "And it doesn't matter now. I'm right where I want to be."

"A kitchen ?"

"Better than a basement." Mary shrugs as she looks over Elizabeth's shoulder to see Jonathan standing at the doorway "Speak of the devil."

She silently gestures to Jonathan to take a seat and he does so.

"So, bubby," Mary says, "We've yet to properly talk."

"You didn't seem to be in any condition to do so, Mary." Jonathan says.

"The wonders a goodnight sleep does to you." Mary says.

"You're still sick Mary," Jonathan starts "I was looking at your blood samples, and-"

Mary leans back in her seat to feign sleep before "waking up."

"Hm, what ?" Mary sarcastically asks "Oh, I'm sorry Doctor Reid, but there are certain subjects best talked about on the hospital bed. Last I checked, this was a dining room."

Jonathan and Elizabeth exchange a glance before Jonathan nods with a sigh.

"Very well sister." Jonathan says "What conversation would you be most comfortable with ?"

Mary smiles.

The next hour or so was spent going over Elizabeth's history, before Mary started bringing up her and Jonathan's childhood.

There were stories of how Jonathan had a boyhood fear of horses; how Mary's best friend growing up was their collie Roscoe. She talked about how Jonathan was usually never one for romance growing up, so it was a genuine wonder that he managed to win Elizabeth's heart.

Mary then mentions how one of Jonathan's few romantic interests was a woman named Olivia; they met while he was a medical student, and Jonathan was a close friend to her, but never had it in him to confess his feelings before she was married off.

Elizabeth, who paid close attention to that story, had her mood change when she heard that part, and patted Jonathan on the back as he put his face into his palm.

"If it's any consolation, I think you'd make a great husband." Elizabeth says to her flushed lover.

"Is that something you want to hold him too ?" Mary adds.

"And what of you, Mary ?" Elizabeth asks "Have you had your special someone ?"

Mary opens her mouth, but closes it, putting her attention back on the dish in front of her.

"It's complicated." Mary said plainly "Not something you can take lightly."

Jonathan is also silent, but he gave an understanding nod to Mary.

Connor and Dylan were a pretty touchy subject for Mary.

Dylan wasn't a bad husband by any stretch of the imagination, but decent was about the right word to use. The son of a military family, Dylan was destined to see battle before his life would end. And sure enough, with the coming of the great war, he met his destiny when he and six other soldiers were caught in a landmine explosion.

Mary wasn't particularly close with Dylan, having been "taught" to be a right and proper lady and wife shortly before their marriage. Mary was a rather distant wife, if a devoted mother; while Dylan was a well meaning, if just as distant husband, who never had the time to be a father. Even living under the same roof, they lived in different worlds.

The only real evidence of possible intimacy between them was Connor.

Dylan met his fate around the time Connor started to crawl, and thus Mary relied on the charity of her family, and that of  Dylan's to keep herself afloat.

Connor quickly became a light in Mary's world, the short time he was in it. Jonathan had a number of regrets regarding Mary - but only ever meeting his nephew six times and being unable to save him from the flu...that was a regret that stung Jonathan in such a way, he would do what he could to banish the thought.

Because one thought begets another; it was the Spanish Flu that took his nephew; the Spanish Flu was the work of the Red Queen. Eargo, the Red Queen took his nephew, and spat out his sister.

These thoughts just made Jonathan's duty for Myrddin feel a little more personal than it should.

This train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Mary's voice.

"I think we are out of things to talk about, brother. Shall we ?"

"I guess now's as best a time as any."

----

A while later, Jonathan, Mary and Elizabeth were gathered in the medical wing. Mary sat on a bed in a more accommodating gown, while Jonathan and Ashbury were in their standard attire.

Jonathan starts "Mary, we know what you are carrying. Lady Ashbury-"

"Call her Elizabeth. I would think we should all be on a first name basis by now, Johnny." Mary interrupts.

"...Elizabeth has that tainted blood too. She has long since been cured, but for the time being, I have yet to isolate the cure in her own system." Jonathan starts.

"That's what he's been doing in Blackwood Pines." Elizabeth adds "Running experiments on...the-"

"You know you're marked for life by surviving them ? Best not draw their attention." Mary says "We got out of those woods alive. Let's not tempt fate."

"Anyways, if you are done interrupting." Jonathan starts again "I don't expect you to understand the jargon, but our...test subjects, had an adverse reaction; an allergic reaction if you will, to both the infected blood and the cured blood. We don't know if it is the blood itself that causes the reaction or if it's forcing two different spirits into the same vessel."

"Okay." Mary says, unclear if she understood what he was saying herself.

"As of now the expedition to Blackwood has been halted indefinitely. My current theory is that the reaction could also be the result of Elizabeth not being the ultimate source of the infection; as such her cured blood needed to be tested on a stronger strain."

"And I guess I am the one who has it ?" Mary asked.

Jonathan nods with a rather grimm expression on his face.

"Mary," Elizabeth says with a softer tone "Do you care to talk about what happened when you were with them ?"

Mary pauses and takes a moment to think.

"Not yet." Mary says "I'm not sure if I am safe."

"I can assure you, my grounds and all who dwell within them are quite-" Elizabeth starts.

"Protection from you." Mary says.

Jonathan was a little taken aback when Mary said this.

"Mary, I-"

"During my time with the Mother's Children, I was told that you have been putting down girls such as I." Mary explains before asking "Is this true Jonathan ?"

Jonathan takes a moment before nodding with an ashamed look on his face "Yes, but Mary you have to understand. They were disasters; they were mutated beyond cure and would only spread the disease further. It's not something I am proud to do bu-"

"I know." Mary interrupts her brother, yet again "I was the one who turned them."

There was a pregnant pause in the room between Jonathan and Ashbury, as the two lovers stare at eachother and back at Mary.

------

Unspecified Date: Either February 2nd, 2014 (Route A), or April 2nd, 2020 (Route B)

Nathan Prescott has been in this dark void for how many days now ? Years even. Nathan couldn't even tell left from right here.

"So, this is Hell," Nathan would think sullenly "No fire, demons or torment ? I've been sold a fake bill of goods."

Nathan felt a bit of gallows humor on the forefront of his mind; on the back of his mind, he felt the fear, guilt and shame that brought him here.

He had nothing other to do but walk forward through all this darkness. He couldn't tell you how long he was doing so; it was like walking through a fog, one that seeped into his very head. His memories were clouded and obscured, to the extent he couldn't know for sure if he.

He couldn't tell you if he shot Chloe Price in the bathroom that day, or if a week went by that included Kate Marsh trying to kill herself, and Warren beating the crap out of him...followed shortly by Jefferson drugging him to death.

Either way, Prescott felt he belonged here. He could only hope that if/when Jefferson joins him, he can have a bit of revenge. That's all he would settle for at this point.

Where Nathan couldn't see, he could at least here...and smell.

It was the scent of blood, and the voice of something. He didn't know the language, but he had the feeling in his gut that whatever was speaking to him, urging him forward, it was something ancient and powerful.

"Open your eyes. You are among the dead that don't rest." He heard, finally able to understand what he was hearing.

His eyes could have been welded shut, and he truly struggled to open them, before he felt something; like invisible hands prying his eyes open.

When he did he was terrified beyond words; he tried to scream but nothing came out.

It was there he saw what could have been taken as an image of the devil; human in shape, about eight feet tall, not counting the antlers (he wasn't sure if they were a part of this thing's head or some kind of head-dress). But it was a being of pure red, and if the sensation he felt at this thing's touch was any indication, it was in fact made of blood.

Emitting from this being was a red glow, so bright and fierce that it overpowered the darkness around him.

"Be not afraid." It said in a male sounding voice.

"What are you ?"

"I go by many names. You may know one of them."

Nathan chokes back a sob, utterly confused and mortified as his head tries to work out what memories were real in light of this being.

"The devil." Nathan whispers, barely audible, but this being could hear him.

"I am not of the Light, I am of the Blood." The being answers back "I was born on this earth the same as you, bound to it by remorse, pain and love, same as most people."

Nathan says nothing, because he could say nothing, he could barely think coherently.

All that there was was his voice.

"If you seek answers from a long since forgotten past," It said "Know that I was once called Lugh."

Nathan finds his voice "Can't say, I know that one."

"You will."

And suddenly, a splitting headache overcame Nathan Prescott.

Other thoughts, other visions passed through his head.

First he saw the exploits of one William Marshall. Nathan can't say he's a medieval history buff, so he wasn't too familiar with Marshall's exploits, but the bit of him being a vampiric hero wasn't in any history book he ever read. He catches glimpses of past conversations between him and this being, going by "Michael". Before that, he saw Marshall's early life, and how his father once threw him under the bus at the age of six.

Nathan felt a bit of empathy for the lad, easily placing himself in the boy's shoes; then he saw how William rose into prominence as a knight despite having little chance at greatness; the exact polar opposite of Nathan. It was in fact his feats that attracted this being "Michael" to him later in life.

The next vision fazes to the time of Arthur. He was familiar enough with the stories of King Arthur; he watched movies like Quest for Camelot and Sword in the Stone growing up, and he remembers how Victoria used to talk to him about BBC's Merlin. Nathan himself never got into the show, but he had at least some idea of what to go off of based on Victoria's descriptions.

But if you were to ask Nathan what version of King Arthur and his Knights were true, a "Vampire AU" would be the last thing Nathan would have guessed. As it so happens, this being apparently went by Merlin these days. The death of Arthur led to a fracture in the surviving knights, as Lancleot and Percivil had two different ideas of how to keep Arthur's legacy alive.

Nathan's vision saw further than that though; centuries before Arthur, Lancelot, Gunivere and Morgause. This being that once went by "Michael" or "Merlin" existed in  Scandinavia. This being was known then as an "Agent of God", or "Of the Gods" (this was around the time Norse mythology started giving way to Chrsitianity after all). This being also picked another champion, a boy by the name of Beowulf, who was slowly turned into a vampire over the years into his adult life.

Nathan was a tad more familiar with the story of Beowulf (he was bored in a library when he was fourteen and was going through a Tolkien phase), so he was a little surprised how otherwise accurate the tale was to the actual story, elements of vampirism aside.

Nathan saw the life of Sétanta, the first vampire to be born with the affliction; son and champion of the one called Lugh, the lad took the name Cú Chulainn, and became one of Ireland's greatest mythological heroes in his short life of seventeen years. Everything from his service as a guard dog to his...questionable conception of his son ("What the fuck, Aífe ?!" Nathan would internally exclaim).

And finally, memories of Lugh himself, which Nathan could guess this being was once...these memories, much like his own, were a fog. The most he can see is something else, darker, ancient, more powerful than that of the being speaking to him.

He sees what has to be Lugh, in one form or another facing down what could only be described as an abomination.

It was simply put, a giant and it wasn't like his actual size could be measured.

Imagine the classic devil figure, like something from Dante's Inferno, but in lieu of typical goat-like horns, it had a set of antlers forming a crown-like structure on it's head, and massive tentacles or tendril-like appendages emerging from its body. The most striking thing was it's many, many eyes, showing up in places eyes wouldn't be; wherever they look, fire and death seems to spread, as the world turns red around it.

And before this monstrosity stood the figure known as Lugh, facing him in an image unironically comparable to Gandalf facing the Balrog.

The Being of Blood once again spoke in Nathan's head.

"Among many names, he is _ _ _ _ _ _ _." The actual name was blocked out, as if his mind didn't want him to know "King of the Darkness Below.  They also say he is dead, and not just resting. With luck, you, and your world, shall never face him."

The fog rolled in once again, obscuring Nathan's vision.

As Nathan's eyes started to adjust, all there was was the cold, the sound of his heart beating.

The being's voice was still in his head giving a few more whispers; "My other children seek you out Nathan Prescott. Keep walking, and he will find you first."

That should have given Nathan unease, but there was a tingling sense of comfort as he looked around at his surroundings.

He was on a road.

This heavily forested road, probably somewhere in the countryside.

It was winter; Jack Frost wasn't nipping at his nose, he was eating him alive. Nathan looked up and down his body, the taste of blood in his mouth, and ragged clothes dressed his body.

But as the voice in the back of his head keeps telling him, he keeps walking. Keeps trying to collect his thoughts. Something was seeking him out, and whatever it was, couldn't find him fast enough.

As Nathan tries to think, he struggles to rationalize this situation. His earliest memory was of October, and something happened that day, he just can't put his finger on it. Now he was in the middle of nowhere, alone, stiff as a board.

He's pretty sure he's supposed to be dead; that was the one thing his gut told him.

He certainly felt like a corpse at least.

Nathan holds his arms around his body, in a futile effort to keep himself warm. He is pretty sure his fingers would fall off, if his toes haven't already.

Observing his surroundings, Nathan see's he's on a highway at least, going on an uphill road. Where there is a highway, there are cars, but out here there wasn't so much as a headlight.

Nathan's pretty sure at this point he's more likely to be mauled by a bear before anyone drives past him.

Nathan could have been walking from ten minutes to two hours before he saw a stop sign, and another indicating to him there was another road around the corner. A dirt road of course, right in the countryside.

Bit by bit, Nathan felt his resolve crumble before he collapsed at the stop sign.

At this point, was there any point at all ?

As far as Nathan knew he's supposed to be dead, and if he wasn't he deserved it at least. Looking up at the night sky, he could only think to himself about those he may or may not have hurt in this fog of memories.

Rachel, Kate, even Chloe. He remembers how he and Mark were planning to hurt Victoria too. Nathan may not have wanted to hurt them, but he was weak. And from such, he deserved no sympathy, Nathan thinks to himself.

Whatever befalls him next, he most certainly deserves it.

And even if Nathan's eyes start to water, he cannot bring himself to cry. There'd be no point to it, after all.

He sits there waiting for death to take him again, but he doesn't expect to see what comes next; a set of headlights growing up behind him.

Nathan turns his head around to face the lights; it occurs to him now how pale and glassy his face looks.

The headlights stop a few yards away, pulling to the side of the road.

It is a dark red car, a 2010 lambo.

The driver's door opens, and out steps a man, making his visage clear; a man in his late twenties to early or mid thirties, short cut black hair and a full, but not too big beard. He wore a black puffer jacket, dark blue jeans, and a set of winter boots.

"You lost ?" The man asks.

"Nope." Nathan sighs, his voice parched as all hell, as he realizes he hasn't spoken out loud in ages "I'm right where I need to be."

"You know, as a Doctor, I cannot condone, or allow myself to let you walk out and about in this weather, and those clothes."

Nathan's only response is a series of coughs, as the man rolls his eyes and walks up to him. Nathan is taken by the shoulder and led to the lambo.

As Nathan was helped in, the sudden rush of air from the heater caught Nathan off guard. Ironically, it actually got a shiver out of Nathan.

The man gets back into the driver's seat and closes the doors.

"Got a name, lad ?" He asks.

"Nathan." The Prescott boy says in a gasping wheeze.

The man nods "Alright, Nathan. Do you know where we are ?"

"Oregon ?" Nathan asks.

"Washington." The man answers, starting the car and driving off down the road, as Nathan begins to relax "You're in critical condition, I can get you taken care off but you're going to have to trust me."

"Whatever," Nathan nods.

The man sighs and remains silent for the rest of the ride. Nathan finds himself drifting off to sleep to the sound of Gordan Lightfoot's Carefree Highway.

----

It was the first good night's sleep he had in a while, and it brought him back to the far off time of the summer of 2012.

Last week of school, and the Vortex Club was planning on hosting another hurrah to cap off the school year.

It was Rachel Amber who set up the party; there was a creek not too far from her family's summer house, complete with a waterfall and watering hole. The water was surprisingly warm that day, and about thirty two kids showed up. Seventeen of them actually attended Blackwell.

A few of the party goers were from the middle and elementary school, which was a divisive decision to many of the students; it would mean having to cut back on drugs, alcohol and the sexual exploits that made a Vortex Club party what it was.

Other than that it was a picture perfect summer party. Just a bunch of kids swimming, sunbathing, like they were at the beach. Several girls were playing with the younger kids on a party island. There was a game of volleyball going on in the water, and on the shoreline, someone was grilling burgers and hotdogs. At least one truck was affixed with stereos playing some alternative rock from the early to mid 2000's. Someone played "Two Princes" three times that day, and some jackass (Logan) got his teeth kicked in for trying for a fourth time.

That wasn't to say that there wasn't drugging, drinking and fornicating going on; you just had to be a safe enough distance from the crowd.

In Nathan's case, he found this treehouse a little ways down the road; a childhood tree fort Rachel made with her dad.

Nathan was pressing himself and his partner to the tree forts floor, the only thing he was wearing was a condom; his partner's bottom bathing suit was hanging off her ankle, as it wrapped around his lower waist,  and her top was hanging off of her breasts, pressed into her stomach.

Nathan's hands were busy with her breasts, and at no point did he and his partner make eye contact or kiss each other on the mouth.

It was something he and Samantha Myers have been planning and putting off for a week now, but now seemed like a good time as others; no, they weren't dating or romantically involved. This was just something they've been meaning to do to see if they felt anything for eachother. On Nathan's part, it was to see what all this noise about sex was really about, and Samantha ? Just wanted to see if she was attracted to boys; they talked to Samantha earlier and made a similar agreement for a later date.

"Be gentle," Samantha mutters out as her breasts start to feel a little sore.

"Sorry," Nathan mutters in her ear, moving his hands down his ribs. The feeling of it made Samantha giggle, which at least brought a smile to Nathan's face. Not out of some smug "I made her do that" thing, but more to do with the fact that it was genuinely cute of her.

Samantha moved her hands to her clit to try to jilt and hasten her own release. Samantha's eyes were closed, which Nathan took as a sign she was thinking of someone else.

A few more creaks and Nathan stopped with a muffled noise, releasing into the condom, just as he pulls out from Samantha and rolls onto her back. Samantha at least releases into her own hands with a shudder.

They took a moment to catch their breaths before Nathan asked.

"So was it...good for you ?"

Samantha pulls her bottoms up, handing Nathan his swimming trunks.

"I...imagined it better." Samantha nods, looking a little embarrassed.

"I see." Nathan nods.

"I-I mean it's not you." Samantha says "It's just-"

"No, I get it." Nathan says "I don't see what all the hype was about myself."

The silence was so thick, the knife would get broken trying to cut it.

They heard muffled speaking as someone else, or someone's else.

"Oh shit!" The two speak at the same time.

The fort's door opens up, and just as Nathan pulls his trunks up, and Samantha fixes up her top. They were not fast enough before who else but Rachel Amber and Chloe Price.

The following ten seconds were interspersed throughout with exchanges of ("What the Hell ?" "What are you doing here ?" "This is my old tree fort! Jeez, it's gonna smell for days!")

All the while Nathan and Samantha is looking away in embarrassment.

"Calm down! We didn't think this spot was taken!" Nathan says.

"I put a sign there years ago! Girls only!" an unusually irritated Rachel says.

"I thought it was expired..." Nathan says, only partially joking. She had to have written that sign when she was like six.

Either way, Nathan barely notices Rachel's eyes flicker up and down their bodies before she composes herself.

To make a long and awkward story short, Chloe and Rachel went to the tree fort to do much of the same as Nathan and Samantha. Nathan himself never got a good grasp on Rachel and Chloe's relationship - was it romantic, or Bridge to Terabithia levels of platonic?

Either way, the primal moment between Samantha and Nathan killed that mood.

That being said, the party was in need of a soda run (there were still minors here) that Rachel and Chloe decided to go on. Victoria ended up going on a soda run too, so it's not like anyone had Nathan's back.

The least Nathan could have done for them was lend them his car. And had to pay for them.

As such, Samantha left the party feeling embarrassed, but could be heard talking to Chloe about talking about this later.

Nathan in the meantime tries to integrate himself back into the party.

For his part, Nathan was skipping stones up the stream with a few other kids. Or trying to, but each time he was one upped by a sixth grader named Thomas.

The three girls returned with cases of pepsi, root beer, cream and orange soda. And of course, coke.

Later in the day, Nathan had a go of sunbathing on the roof of his car. He figured it didn't really fit the kind of guy he was, but he was bored, and it seemed that's what everyone else was doing.

"Hey there." Nathan hears a voice as he turns his head over to see Rachel looking up at him.

"Hey ?" Nathan answers, but the infliction in his voice made it seem like he was asking something.

Considering what happened hours ago, Nathan was just confused as to what was Rachel doing, although he quickly pieced things together.

About an hour ago, the younger kids left the party with some of the older ones. For the remaining members of the Vortex Club, a few went on a rum run.

Considering how Rachel was holding a cup of her own, had the slightest slur in her voice, and was looking a little more chipper than usual lately, Nathan was willing to bet she was a little buzzed.

Well, as long as they were here, he might as well get this out of the way.

"Look about the treehouse." Nathan says.

"Ah," Rachel says waving dismissively, before taking another drink "Don't worry about it. I'm sure more people did worse at this party. Y'know when the little ones left at least."

Nathan looks around before asking "Is, uh, Chloe still with you ?"

Rachel shakes her head "She's a designated driver. Taking some of the kids home. Me ? I've been waiting for the buzz all day; too long and too late to stop now." She takes another drink before asking "So, where's Tori ?"

"I think she's also on driver duty." Nathan shrugs "She and Juliet got in this jeep with four kids."

He notices Rachel downing her drink before tossing it aside.

"You're a lightweight." Nathan says.

"I'm not I just-" Rachel says before being interrupted by a hiccup.

"How many fingers am I holding up ?" Nathan says holding all five digits up.

"Four. Thumbs aren't fingers."

There is a brief pause before the two burst out laughing.

"So..." Rachel starts, "You and Samantha huh ? I thought you'd be more of Tori's type."

"Oh that." Nathan says "It's nothing like that; we're just trying to figure shit out."

"You two are experimenting already ?" Rachel asks "You know, I thought it would be you and Vic, but I figured she swung the other way."

"How'd you-?"

"I had a hunch." Rachel shrugs, before climbing onto the hood of the car. Hunch being a fancy way of how she, Chloe and Victoria once "retired" from an earlier party.

"For someone who says she really doesn't like us," Rachel continues, referring to herself and Chloe "She has a really pretty way of showing it."

"Tori's complicated like that." Nathan nods "If she were an anime girl, I can see her as a total tsundere."

Rachel lets out a little giggle before she says "I didn't take you for a weeb."

Nathan shakes his head with a grin "Not anymore, thank Christ. I mean, I watched Fullmetal Alchemist and Death Note recently; that whole Nina Tucker episode still did a number on me."

Rachel shakes her head and covers her ears "Ah, don't remind me! I can't look at little kids and their dogs the same way anymore after that!"

"Hayden tried getting into FMA a while back, I kept trying to talk him out of watching that episode," Nathan starts "Soon as he does, he's calling me and giving me shit for not warning him."

The two share a laugh, before Rachel composes herself.

"Didn't help my daddy issues, that's for sure." Rachel says before covering her mouth when she realizes what she just said.

"Daddy issues ?" Nathan asks.

"I- uh, don't want to talk about it." Rachel says "We aren't exactly on speaking terms, you know ?"

Nathan pauses and glances up at the sky, before glancing down at Rachel "That's rough buddy."

"You ever get that feeling though ?" Rachel looks up at the sky too "That one of your parents sees you like a pet, if anything ?"

"I'd be lucky if my dad saw me as a dog." Nathan sighs sullenly "We had this pit-bull when I was nine, Bartholomew." Nathan's mood starts to lighten up as he thinks of him "I used to call him Barking Bart. As weird as it sounds, I think my dad liked him too."

Rachel looks genuinely surprised when she hears this "What's this ? Sean Prescott had a heart at one point ?"

"Once upon a time." Nathan says his mood dours yet again. He sits up, hanging his feet off the roof of the car "Okay, so I was eleven right ? I was hanging out with some school friends at this park. I went on this swing set, and tried going up over the bar."

"That sounds rather foolish of you."

"You have no idea!" Nathan says "Anyways, when I'm finally over the bar, my grip slipped and my head landed on the bar, and I flopped over onto the ground. I had to stay in the hospital for a week and a half getting my head stitched up. Dear old pops doesn't visit me once. But Barking Bart gets bit by a snake ? Dad spares no expense trying to get him fixed up, not that it worked in the end, but still..."

"Jesus," Rachel says.

"But wait! There's more!" Nathan says with an air of gallows humor "When I was nine, my dad signed me up to play hockey, right ? I couldn't do shit on the field, and I can barely manage to skate. But dad kept pushing me and pushing me. Time came for the big game, and what do you know ? We lost. What was my reward ? My dad, quote unquote, forgets me at the skating rink, and waits like three hours before he decides to remember."

"Fuck, dude." Rachel breathes out, in utter disbelief at what Nathan just said.

"So...about your dad ?" Nathan asks.

"What about him ?" Rachel asks.

"I spilled my guts out for you, the least you could tell me what your dad did to get you so mad at him."

Rachel takes a deep breath and takes a moment to think this over "Only Chloe knows about this - and Frank; You cannot let anyone else know this. I don't know what my dad would do if this got out."

Nathan zips his lip and does a 'cross my heart and hope to die' motion.

"My dad tried to kill my mom." Rachel says plainly and flatly.

Nathan stared at Rachel like she grew a second head.

"What ?" Nathan says "I mean, I saw them three days back at Blue Wha-"

"Not my stepmom." Rachel says "Let me explain, it's kind of a long story."

Rachel went over all of it; James Amber's past with Sera; Sera's drug issues, an incident in which she nearly OD'd; how her mom Rose wasn't her biological mother, and that Sera has been trying to contact Rachel for years while being rehabilitated.

How Damon Merrick stabbed Rachel, and that James has been working on a scheme with him to get Sera out of the picture. How Frank beat Damon's  head in and along with Chloe, was an unreliable witness to what happened with Sera. It didn't take long for Rachel to find out what happened, and even if James didn't see jail time for his involvement, Rachel just had to spread the word and James Amber's world would be over.

Literally, the only reason Rachel doesn't at this point was more so for Rose's sake than anything else.

Nathan was left fairly speechless when he heard all that.

Rachel snaps his fingers in front of his face to get that blank look off it.

"So, uh, you got anything to say about that ?" Rachel asks.

Nathan shakes his head and shrugs.

"Can't say that I do." He says, lying through his teeth.

The two look around to see the party pretty much dying. It was down to eighteen people, the music was kind of shit (you can only listen to Two Prince so many times in  a row before you want to rip your own ears off), and at this point it was a bunch of kids standing around drinking and talking.

In short, Nathan felt a little worn out from the day, before deciding it's best to get a ride back to the dorm, and finish packing up before his forthcoming trip to his summer house.

"So..I'm gonna be heading back to my place, if you need a ride." Nathan says.

Rachel snorts back a laugh and reaches up to pat Nathan on the head.

"Nice try." Rachel says "I'm drunk but I'm not stupid." Rachel jabs her thumb down the road before saying "My cabin's up the way. I'll be fine."

Nathan nods before sliding off the roof of his car.

"Well, I'm heading back to Blackwell. Kristen's picking me up in two days, so.."

"Ah," Rachel says, sliding off the hood "Was gonna be showing movies at my cabin for those who stayed. I was thinking of the Blair Witch Project, but you have fun with the packing and what-not."

When Nathan departed back to Blackwell, he eventually checked his phone to see four unread messages from his sister, one from his mother and two from his dad.

Rolling his eyes and deciding to get his dad out of the way, Nathan called Sean Prescott first.

Prescott senior was uncharacteristically interested in how Nathan's day was going, and their discussion turned over to Rachel. Sean Prescott was especially interested in whatever dirt Nathan could unearth from the Amber girl.

And that was how Sean Prescott got something on James Amber, should the latter cause him trouble.

----

Nathan awakes from his dreams and memories in an uncomfortably comfortable room.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and take in his surroundings. He was in a bedroom for sure, and considering the generic white and blue color scheme, he had to guess he was in a guest room.

He looks to his side to see a night stand, affixed with books and a radio, which comes with a clock reading 10:45 PM.

Getting up from his bed, Nathan looks down his body to see he's wearing no socks, a set of red pajama pants and a white T-Shirt. He takes a few minutes to look around his room; the most notable piece of furniture besides a clothes drawer was a TV, TV Stand, VCR, and a shelf of VHS tapes.

There was a bathroom door at the left side of his room, and on the right, a large window showing a vast and snowy landscape, with the lights of a small town not too far off.

There was another door at the side of the bed, which he opened to find a hallway. Looking up and down said hallway, there was nothing in particular except this framed picture at the far end of the hall.

It was a photograph of a family; an old timey photo at that, probably taken in the late 20's to early 30's. The family looked to be one of high class.

There was a man, resembling the one who found Nathan on the road, right down to the beard; standing beside/behind the man was a woman, who like the man, had black hair, and a sharply coy smile on her face. Beside the both of them stood another woman with a shorter hair cut, and lighter shade as far as Nathan could tell; she had a more dignified look in her eyes, and the slightest hint of a wholesome smile.

Standing in front of the lighter haired woman, was a dark haired girl about seven to ten years old, with a short, rather boyish haircut. The only reason he figured this was a girl was that she was wearing a dress she looked a little uncomfortable in.

Nathan nearly felt himself jump out of his skin at the touch on the back of his neck.

He turns around to see that same woman in the picture; the light haired one - red head, now that he could see her in color. She appeared to be more modern in the flesh than she did in the photograph, especially in the clothes department.

"I see you're up." The red head says. Her accent indicates she's from England.

Nathan opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes.

"This might be a little much for you to take in all at once." She takes him by the shoulder and gestures to him to follow her.

With little else to do, Nathan does so.

----

She leads him down a hall, and to what appears to be a living room. A twenty seven by twenty seven living room at that; it wouldn't be out of place at a family lodge. Given the location, Nathan was willing to bet that's where he was.

The woman gestures to Nathan to take his seat, on a couch, as she stands before a lit fireplace.

"I'm sure you have a lot on your mind; where you are, what happened to you, what have you become ?" She says.

Nathan answers her, finally speaking for the first time in a while. "Well, yeah, but I know I'm a vampire. I kinda figured it out when that blood guy spoke to me...and when I saw that picture of yours."

The woman looks a little taken aback before she nods, heading towards a chair at the fireplace's side, turning it to face Nathan before taking a seat of her own.

"Well, we got out of the way," She shrugs before reaching out her hand to shake Nathan's "Elizabeth Ashbury."

"Nathan Prescott." He answers back.

"Oh I knew that." Ashbury says "We've had our eyes on Arcadia Bay when...that happened."

"We ?"

As if on cue, a man enters the room, the same one who picked Nathan up on that road. He now wore a set of jeans, a black turtleneck, and a set of slippers. He was holding in his hand a steaming mug, as if it were his morning coffee.

"So the boy's up I see," he says "Is he ready ?"

Nathan finds his voice again "Pardon me, but I don't exactly know what's going on."

The man takes a stand beside the fireplace as he looks Nathan over, with a cautious expression on his face.

"It'll take some time to explain." The man says "In the meantime, I find it is best we get to know each other; Dr. Jonathan Reid." He says, introducing himself "You don't need to introduce yourself, we know who you are."

"As I've been saying," Ashbury starts again "My people and I have been looking into Arcadia Bay for some time. We know just about everything involving you, Blackwell...Mark Jefferson."

Nathan looks down with an expression of shame that doesn't escape Ashbury's notice.

"If it is any consolation," she says, "I have done much worse; not everyone gets a second chance like this. For whatever reason, you have awoken as one of us. After what happened in Arcadia Bay, we need to know your side. What did you see ? What do you remember ?"

Nathan sighs, taking a moment to think before he says "Nothing much really, aside from the road. Everything before that was a bit of a blur."

"Please, take your time."

"I," Nathan starts, "I saw that thing...I thought I was dead and there was this...devil guy. I think he was made of blood."

Jonathan nods, sharing a knowing look with Ashbury.

"Anything else ?" Jonathan asks.

Nathan shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything past the bathroom; I was at the school, and I was arguing with this girl. I had a gun with me and..." Nathan sighs "It's like I am remembering two different weeks going by, if that makes sense."

"Hmm, I'll be just a moment." Ashbury says, getting up to excuse herself.

This left Jonathan and Nathan alone for a moment, during which Jonathan speaks.

"You saw him ?" Jonathan asks "You saw Myrddin Wilt ?"

"Is that his name ?" Nathan asks.

"That's what I call him at least." Jonathan says "He disappeared a long time ago, only reappearing here and there throughout the decades. Even after all this time, there is little we actually know of him or his past, but Ashbury has been following sightings of him in Arcadia Bay in recent years."

Nathan once again says nothing, before Jonathan eventually speaks again.

"I saw him again about a week ago; he told me how your body disappeared shortly after the authorities found it. He told me, how you wandered about, picking off animals in your haze. People took it as a bear on the hunt; except A, they should be hibernating this time of year; and B, the only bears found were two you fed upon before I found you. For whatever reason Myrdin Wylt picked you."

"For what ?" Nathan asked.

"Before I tell you, are you sure you can handle it ?" Jonathan asks back.

Before Nathan can answer, Ashbury walks back into the room with a laptop in her arms.

Opening the laptop and putting it in Nathan's lap, she says "Here, this should help fill in the blanks."

Turning on a tab and linking Nathan to several articles, time seemed to slow in Nathan's head as he read over them.

It turns out the media has been calling this incident the "Sinking of Arcadia Bay", as what happened that week and the following months all but dragged the town down to Davy Jones Locker. Business ? Gone to shit ? People left behind ? The only ones left moved after a year. School and Police department ? Down the drain. Only thing left untouched was the hospital.

First, Nathan looked up his name, and saw article after article going over what happened in Arcadia Bay, and how it effectively sank the Prescott family, be it their fortune, reputation and even the businesses they upheld.

The Dark Room was uncovered, quite a few people were arrested for their direct or indirect involvement in the weeks that followed. A while after the fact, Sean Prescott disappeared from his winter cabin, but not before a bungled attempt to salvage what he could. But there was so much they could do before the staties and feds became interested in what was happening; turns out not everyone has their price.

It pretty much went over everything, from the victims from Arcadia Bay, the coverage going back and forth between Nathan and Rachel; who controlled the narrative went back and forth between liberal and conservative outlets. Either one was pushed by two of Arcadia Bay's more influential families, especially with their own children tied to this case.

The liberal ones were more sympathetic to the actual victims, of which Rachel was included. From such, it was easy for them to buy into James Amber's narrative that Rachel was a good girl from a good home brought down and ultimately killed by undesirable elements. Rachel's associations with the likes of Chloe Price and Frank Bowers had more to do with her death than the actual people who killed her.

More conservative leaning outlets tried to paint this picture that out of all the victims of the Dark Room, Nathan was the biggest one of them all (at least for those uninterested in exploiting Kate Marsh or Rachel Amber as victims).

From such you could either believe you could believe one or two things: one, that Nathan Prescott was a pretty much a modern incarnation of Joffrey Baratheon, who used and abused everyone around him and a crime record that rivaled the likes of HH Holmes.

Or you could believe that he was this poor, poor rich boy with severe mental health issues who needed someone to care about him for once in his life. He really didn't deserve what happened to him, and really should have gotten help; what he really deserved was a second chance...third or fourth...

Bottom line is contrary to what those nasty, nasty keyboard warriors would have you believe, Nathan (and to a lesser extent Jefferson) were not the monsters people made them out to be, and we should see them for the kind of men they were "outside of their activities".

It was like the Dark Room was something trivial at best.

Other people defending Nathan, or at least buying into the "Prescott Narrative", seemed to either identify with Nathan, and find what happened to him hit a little close to home...or have some kind of chip on their shoulder in general. Especially when people like Chloe and Rachel seem to be the subject of their ire.

Honestly, the people who "sympathize" with Nathan, irked Nathan more.

Nathan sets the laptop aside to soak in all this information, gritting his teeth, and pressing his finger and thumb to his nose as he inhales.

"Nathan," Ashbury says, getting his attention back "There is more for you to see..."

----

Ashbury had Nathan taken to a jeep awaiting for them.

There was a short ride before they reached a cottage at the edge of a forested road. From what Nathan gathered, they were in Alaska, specifically on the outskirts of this town.

The town in question was called Delos Crossing, and Ashbury had bought multiple properties there for reasons pertaining to isolation. It was one of the safest places for her to stay. The kind of properties Nathan would need at the moment.

"This is sort of a guest house we bought; we lend them to college students most of the time, or vacationing families." Ashbury explains "But if my lodge doesn't meet your standards, or if you prefer privacy, we can have you stay at said lodge for the time being."

Nathan says nothing, just sort of mumbles in response.

"That's okay," Ashbury says "This is a lot to be taken in at once, but there is something we have there that you must see."

As they pull into the property line, Nathan notices at least for other vehicles parked along the road and driveway.

By the looks of it, it seemed the residents were using the seclusion to have a frat party or something.

"House warmers." Ashbury explains as she parks the jeep "Just a little something to make sure no one pries during our current guests stay..."

"Why does that sound like a euphemism ?" Nathan asks.

"Because it is one." Ashbury answers dryly "Perhaps you will learn the full story, but I try to do right by this world I really do. Cards on the table, Prescott, this is one of the reasons I chose to help you. In my youth, I was quite a bit like you. It was a part of me I thought I killed literally a lifetime ago. But during the second world war...something awoke in me I tried to bury. Perhaps it was never truly dead."

"Was this about your..." Nathan starts to ask before hesitating "Daughter ?"

As Asbury shuts off the jeep, she turns to Nathan and has a sudden look.

"I- I'm sorry," Nathan stutters out "I just saw that photograph and-"

"Like I said." Ashbury says dryly "In time, perhaps you will learn the full story. But now is not that time."

Ashbury steps out of the jeep, and Nathan follows suit, walking up the steps on the porch and two the doorway, she knocks.

Opening the door was a man with short blonde hair and dressed as if he was some rich yuppy on a vacation.

"We're here for the guests." Ashbury says.

"Of course," The man nods "Right this way my lady."

Nathan follows Ashbury through the hallways of this cottage. Passing what appears to be a living room, there were about a dozen people sitting around, being entertained - it looked like some sort of frat party, and all eyes were on an Asian American woman with dark hair, dressed like she belongs in Beverly Hills.

Of all things the jukebox was out, and the dark haired woman was playing a little show for the other party goers. The song in question was Fast Car by Tracy Chapman.

"So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car/ Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk/ City lights lay out before us/And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder/And I-I-I, had a feeling that I belonged-" The dark haired woman sang, before she noticed Ashbury and Nathan pass.

"Oh, don't stop on our account, Miss Sinclair." Ashbury said in good spirits "I am just here to show him the ropes."

"Are they also-" Nathan starts to ask before Ashbury interrupts him.

"Some are, most have yet to make it into our...GLO." Ashbury says "As I have been telling our newest addition here, we host to many sororities as well as fraternities, and look forward to his patronage."

"Alright," one of the men in the group says "Look forward to having you around. You got a name ?"

Nathan pauses, not wanting to talk. How could these people not recognize him ? His name has been thrown around, and his face was all over the news.

"I promise, you will get to know him in due time." Ashbury says "For now, he's in need of initiation."

As Ashbury ushers Nathan down the hall, down a flight of stairs presumably to a basement, Nathan asks.

"Do they, uh, know what-" Nathan starts to ask before Ashbury interrupts him.

"A few do." She says "Some are vampires themselves, some at least know of the supernatural...others are just college students looking for a place to stay. As far as those ones know, the basement is simply off limits.'

"You're hiding something." Nathan quickly guesses.

"Correct. Someone." Ashbury says as they make their way down the stairs "How much have I told you of my past ?"

"Pretty vague mentions about how you were like me or worse than me." Nathan shrugs "Why does that matter ?"

"I was known then as Lady Blackwood. I spent a lot of time trying to atone from a dark past, undo the horrors she committed." Ashbury explains making their way towards a door "A lot can change a person over a century. Decades even. In order to fight outer darkness, I find myself bit by bit embracing that same inner darkness I try to run from. Do you understand me, young Prescott ?"

"I think so."

"Well, some of that darkness...as you can guess, circulated Arcadia Bay for some time. My club and I have been investigating, and even trying to fight the monsters hiding within Arcadia Bay, and in the process, I found yet another instance to embrace Lady Blackwood." Ashbury starts "If you are prepared to join us, or willing to, would you embrace the monster inside you as well ?"

Nathan looks up at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion "I, don't understand-"

"How have you been feeling ? Since you awoke ?" Ashbury interrupts him.

"Cold," Nathan says, not really thinking of anything in particular.

"Hungry ? Irritable ? Like you could just rip apart some animal without even thinking or caring about it ?"

Nathan nods "I mean, I felt that way for a long time. Well, before I became this bloodsucker."

"You can use vampire." Ashbury says, before continuing "How about the people in your life ? What would you do, if your father was here ? Helpless, trapped in a corner, and you had this weapon; let's say, a knife or a gun ? Would you rid yourself of the toxic influences in your life ?"

"What are you saying ?"

Ashbury opens the door to reveal a small, white, hallway, with two doors across from each other.

"One is his bathroom, one is his bedroom," she says "We have this place monitored. When does he need to use one ? He has to slip a piece of paper under the door. Other than a few mishaps, our guards generally feed or help him when he needs it. Not that he's seen their faces. No one knows he's here, who doesn't work for us. No one else comes down here. The walls cancel out the noises."

Nathan's eyes widen as he starts to get an idea of who she's talking about.

As Ashbury opens the bedroom door, she reveals a small, eight by twelve bed room, with nothing but a small bed and dresser to decorate it.

Everything in the room was white. White floor, white walls and roof. White bed, etc.

To empathize with the whiteness, a bright light lit the room, and seemingly, never turned off. It was almost deafening. The thought of staying in this room for weeks, months, years; it would be enough to drive one to the point of madness.

Sitting in the center of the room, curled in a ball was a man; it took Nathan a bit to recognize him, but he was sure it was him. His body may have taken to feeding off his own weight, the hair on his head and face grew out some. His glasses were tossed aside and his eyes bloodshot from the constant brightness.

Sean Prescott looked up at his son like he had just walked through Hell, and now the demons were taking the form of one of his victims.

Nathan felt oh too familiar feelings creeping up his back. All that rage and anger that brought out the worst in him in life was still there, but there was something else. In the pit of his stomach, that rage mixed with a persistent hunger that he did his best to ignore. He could always eat later, but now that feeling was near impossible to ignore.

Nathan could hear something in the back of his head, like the sound of chanting in a language he never heard. At the front of his mind, Nathan could hear his father feebly call out to him.

"Nathan ?" Prescott Senior says "You're supposed to be d-dea-" He is interrupted by a loud cough. He spent so much time screaming in this room, he could barely speak without coughing at this point.

Nathan takes a step forward, all that rage clouding his mind, and even some of his vision as he makes his way to his father. His teeth bare and his eyes flare as he continues his advance.

"No!" His father says "Nathan I am your father- You wil- No! Please! Somebody! Anybody ?"

All Ashbury does is stare stoically...at first.

Fighting and suppressing your inner demons for as long as she has, sometimes it feels uncomfortably good to let one slip out.

It was enough for a small smile to form across her face.

----

It could have been minutes to a near hour, when Nathan's mind unfogged itself. Looking down, Nathan sees what he reduced his father too; this indescribable mess.

You'd think that the horror of it all would have come crashing down on Nathan once his disbelief gave way, but there was a guilty pleasure overwhelming his heart.

Truth be told, Nathan was just glad he wouldn't have to put up with the fat bastard anymore.

Nathan felt himself shudder as Ashbury placed a hand on his shoulder "It's over for him now. Now you have a new chance and opportunity to rebuild yourself."

"Where do I start ?"

----

March 21st, 2020, Madison Hill, Seattle

Two year old Bill Caulfield Price is awake when he should be asleep.

After spending his week with two of his favorite aunts (don't tell Auntie Dana), his nightmares cleared up considerably. No Mordred, no more "Lady in Red", nothing.

He still had dreams of course, but of different times, places and people. Of course he would dream about his mother(s), and this school they went to too. Bill himself didn't go to school of course, and knew not of what they talked about. To him it was just boring adult stuff.

He dreamt of whales washing up on the beach, he dreamt of two moons. Of forest fires and storms. Of a snow fall on an otherwise sunny day/month. And of course, her.

Bill never saw her before, no outside her dreams.

Bill knew not who she was. She certainly wasn't one of his aunties, and his mother never talked about her. But there was something about this girl who drew Bill towards her. He only had bad dreams about her one time; when she was taken to that dark place, and when his mother(s) found her in the dump; and when she woke up and started drinking blood.

It wasn't even that that scared Bill. It was the man with the glasses, who was in the dark room with her. After a while, that fear gave way into something else, especially since he saw him when he dreamt of his mother in the man's classroom. Hence his nickname, "Mr. Teacher".

Now, Bill is an innocent two year old of course, but there was something about "Mr. Teacher" that inspired something in him. That feeling that says "I want to break a glass bottle in this fucking prick's throat, and see if he chokes on it or bleeds out first."

But other than that, the girl with his mother was a presence Bill felt a magnified comfort towards. Something that pushed away the fear in a way only his mother(s) can.

One such dream had Bill in this girl's bedroom. She was alone, on the bed, trying to sleep and...crying ?

Curious, he walked up to her bed, wondering if she could hear or see him. Like that "Lady in Red" did previously. He knew when his mother was upset or was alone, he would always climb onto the bed, couch or chair and give her a "Bear Cub Hug".
 
And so he tried the same with her, putting one of his little hands on her shoulder.

When he did, Rachel would perk her head up, looking around her room as if someone were there in the room with her.

To Rachel ? It certainly felt like Chloe, but a smaller, more innocent Chloe. But she could see as clear as day (despite it being night) that no one was in the room with her. Chloe was visiting her grandma out of state. While Rachel had that feeling creeping up on her before, she knew it wasn't Chloe.

Even so, while Rachel knew nothing or no one was there, she sat up and hugged this imaginary presence to her chest and lied back down.

From Bill's perspective, this woman was giving him a hug and snuggling him in the same way his mother or aunts would. Even If he wasn't sure she could actually feel him, or see him, it felt like she knew he was there.

It was like he was a part of her...or at least a part of her was in him. A third mother, if you will.

When Rachel eventually woke up, she was alone in her bedroom. When Bill awoke, he was also alone in his bedroom.

---

After his visit to Aunt Kate and Aunt Victoria, Bill showed his mother these drawings he made of this girl, and this uncertain look dawned on his mothers face(s).

Of course, Bill was told little of Arcadia Bay; he was never told of Mark Jefferson, the Dark Room...or even Rachel Amber. (and Auntie Victoria sure as hell knows Bill doesn't know about the tea incident).
 
When Bill showed his mother(s) his drawings, they simply put them away, told Bill he was just dreaming, and they'll talk about the girl when they are ready.
Earlier that day, things went on as usual, until Bill felt something as he walked past his mothers room while his mother(s) were busy.
 
It was as if someone was waiting for him, calling him there.
 
A two year old with no such common sense, of course Bill snuck in making his way towards a book on Max's desk. Bill knew he wasn't supposed to go through her stuff, but curiosity and ignorance as to "why" got the better of him.

Climbing up on the chair to the desk, Bill opened the book.

It was a series of photographs of his family, before he was born (or artificially conceived even). They were of Max Caulfield, Chloe Price (back when her hair was blue); there were his aunties, his few uncles and his grandparents.
 
They were taken at the same town and school Bill would see as he slept; Arcadia Bay and Blackwell Academy (though he had no real way of knowing the names of these places.

After flipping through the album's pages, Bill saw her again; Rachel Amber. In a photobooth with Chloe Price.

So she is/was real!

Right before Bill could form much thought into it, he hears his mother coming down the hall.

"Bill ? Bill! Where are you hiding-?" His mother said, sounding a little worried he wasn't in the living room where he was supposed to be.
 
Her worries immediately quelled when she saw her bedroom door open, and went in to see Bill at her desk. He was standing on the chair, and one wrong move he could drop.

"Bill!" She says as she dashes across the room and scoops him up "What are you doing in here ?" She sounded one part worried, and one part incredulous.

"Looking at pictures." Bill says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

To be fair, it was, but still.

"I see that...but why ?" His mother asks.

"I want to see who she is ?" Bill says pointing at the pictures of Rachel and Chloe.

As she sees them, her eyes widen, and the world all but goes quiet as she looks over the pictures. Time seemed to stop for a moment until Bill's voice snapped her out of it.

"It's her, Mama!" Bill says excitedly "That girl I've been dreaming of! She's real!"

"I...I can see that, sweetie." His mother says, unconsciously wiping her eyes.
 
If only her baby boy knew who and what she lost. She certainly didn't think she'd be talking about it so soon.

"What's her name ?" Bill asks "Is she another auntie ?"

His mother sniffles and shakes a little, working up the will to speak.

"R-Rachel, sweetie." She says, putting on a brave face for Bill "Her name is Rachel. She's...she's..."

The only reason she doesn't let herself collapse is because she's holding Bill at the moment. She spent quite a while putting on a brave face for her son, and she hasn't let herself crumble yet.

"W-we can talk about her after supper. Come on, din din's getting cold." She says, managing to chuckle despite her watery eyes.

----

And so, after an otherwise quiet supper, Bill's mother(s) sat him down and finally told him about Rachel Amber...or at least, what he needed to know.

Bill still didn't know about Mark Jefferson; the Dark Room; her affairs; her troubles; how she went missing...how Max and Chloe found her in the junkyard.

All Bill knew was that Rachel Amber was someone Chloe loved. Still does.

When Bill asks where Rachel is now, he gets no answer beyond "She's...she's an angel sweetie."

An angel. It made sense now.

Bill dreamt of Angels before.
 
In a past dream, Bill saw what he called "The Man In Red", who he thought was the devil at first.

When the man spoke to him, he recalled (but couldn't quite understand what he was saying); "Some have called us that; Devils, Angels. Gods even. The blood, it gives life. We are that life, child. Some call us a corruption of life."

All that other stuff went over the boy's head, but the main takeaway was, he was seeing angels (like Rachel)...and if he had to guess, the Woman in Red (or Morgana as he started calling her) had to be a devil.

----

When Bill was sent to bed that night, he asked his mother(s) if he could have one of those pictures of Rachel at his bedside. His request was granted, and his mother went to retrieve the picture from her photo album.

"Rachel," She'd sigh when she was alone with the picture "I don't know what he's going through...but you look out for him, will ya ?"

After a moment, she speaks again.

"Who am I kidding ? Of course you will."

And so, with Bill alone in his room, tried to wait for sleep to take him, under the watchful eye of a framed picture of Rachel Amber.

But as an hour passed, Bill couldn't sleep. His young and imaginative mind was going a mile a minute. He simply sat in his bed, looking at the photograph with awe and anticipation.

Rachel, the girl he dreamt of, was/is real.
 
That means his dreams were real, right ?

Rachel with his mama; Rachel at the school; Rachel with Aunt Victoria; Rachel at the Price-Madsen home.

Rachel in the Dark Room; Rachel with Mr. Teacher; Rachel in the Junkyard; Rachel waking up at the hospital and drinking people's blood.

Rachel in Los Angeles; Rachel in that town...that town he dreamt was attacked by vampires, something the news is reporting on as the story continues to unfold.

In a previous dream, Bill saw those vampires coming here. To Seattle. But it was okay, because Bill knew they would be following Rachel, and that she was an angel watching over him.

He couldn't wait to meet her.

Chapter Text

March 9th, 2013, Portland Oregon

Mary was driving for however long, before they eventually reached their designation; an otherwise empty and isolated, a spacious parking lot. They had reached Hoyt Arboretum, and by the looked of it, had about a dozen or so spots to themselves.

"I figured this is as good a spot as any. Mary says, stopping the car.

"This ? This'll do." Rachel takes a second to reserve herself and nod, before turning to Mary "Now, how you want it ?"

Mary's calm smile doesn't falter, but her eyes look non plussed "I beg your pardon ?"

"I can make it real quick." Rachel says taking off her jacket, shaking her hair as she takes her hat off "That's about all I can do."
Rachel holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers.

"I can get you off this way." Rachel says, before making a V shape with her index and middle finger "Or this if you prefer." before wiggling her tongue in the space between them "My record is a minute and a half, you know."

Mary just stares with a flat smile on her face, and it takes Rachel a few seconds to read her eyes and realize.

"I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't go as far just yet." Mary says with an amused giggle.

"Oh fuck! Oh Shit! I'm sorry!" An absolutely mortified Rachel blushes and covers her face.

To be fair, Mary just chuckles and pats Rachel on the back "No, I get it; powerful business woman, picking up a young lady off the streets in the blistering cold, taking her somewhere isolated. A horror story as old as time. One I'm sure you're familiar with, given the company you keep."

Rachel looks at Mary with a questioning expression, and Mary stares back with a coy one.

"Oh come now!" Mary smirks "You don't really think I wasn't gonna do a background check ? Especially when Mark Jefferson shows up with one of his students ?"

"I swear, he told me he could take me places." Was the first thing Rachel thought to say. She wasn't lying, but at the same time, it sounded like she was trying to make an excuse for herself, but Mary raises a hand.

"I can't judge; you're nineteen, new to the real world. I was nineteen too, you know five years ago."  Mary waves dismissively "You're not the first to have a relationship like this; I wooed a Professor myself back in the day - well, a Professor's assistant - point is I've been where you are before."

Rachel sighs and looks out the window "This is the part where you tell me, it's not my fault, right ? That I'm just a naïve schoolgirl, in over her head, getting herself into something that can and will hurt her down the road ?"

Mary shrugs "That power is in your hands, Rachel Amber; though had you been a few years younger, I'd get people involved like that." she empathizes her point by snapping her fingers "But seeing as you're looking to get in the business anyways, I figure I can show you the ropes myself. But first...how often have you been to Portland ?"

Rachel looks back at Mary and shakes her head.

"Like three times, but not since I was a kid. My family and I didn't do a lot of sightseeing."

"Well, I'm glad I brought you here then." Mary says "This place get's so lonely in the winter, and I do enjoy having someone to talk to."

----

Rachel couldn't tell the exact time she and Mary spent wandering and taking in the sights of Washington Park, but she estimates that AM turned to PM at some point. And despite the weather from earlier and how low and sick Rachel felt, there was something about Mary that made her feel a little warmer. It was like having another Chloe around.

They spent an hour or so going up and down the trails. There weren't that many people out, and the snow gave it a rather "winter wonderland" feeling. In the time Rachel spent with Mary they talked over general things; Rachel's rather erratic social life, compared to Mary's more isolated one in recent years.

Mary would often bring up her family, how her brother had this crippling fear of horses as a lad. How when they were in their adolescents Mary was a pretty pushy match maker when it came to Jonathan's love life. How once Johnathan had a friendly conversation with a gentleman at a pub, whom Mary recognized as a bloke who was ungentlemanly towards her two years prior; and how that poor bloke ended up getting hospitalized, treated by Jonathan, just so he can be hospitalized again as a result.

Rachel talked about how she took to being Arcadia Bay's "rebellious princess". How she joined these students on bikeathon at a local park, and nearly whipped out trying to one up the more athletic students.

"Well, that's rather reckless." Mary would remark.

"I was on grass that day." Rachel shrugs, miming smoking a joint to empathize her point "Besides, we rebel types more often than not have a devil may care attitude; surely you got some battle scars of your own."

"Of  course I do." Mary nods with a smirk "And please, I implore you not to refer to me as Shirley."

"So what about you ?" Rachel asks as they make their way to a bench "What's your rebel streak ?"

"Hmm ?"

"Your scars I mean. What marks have you made as a Rebellious Princess type ?"

Mary has a sad smile on her face as she and Rachel take their seat at the bench.

"Long story, I'm afraid. Fell into the wrong crowd, had a few benders, had to claw my way out of the ground with my own hands and teeth."

"No one else ? Didn't your brother help you or-"

"Johnny and I are complicated." Mary says with a serious tone "He was the...Lisa to my Bart. Really work focused, looking out for the future. That kind of guy."

"Earlier you said he was one of the good ones."

"He is, it's just sometimes I'm one of the bad ones." Mary says "And like many bad ones, you kind of have to go through Hell to get people to step in. Years ago, I had a husband. Our marriage wasn't meant to be."

Rachel hesitates before asking "Was he abusive ?"

"No." Mary shakes her head as she looks down at the ground "We - we just lived in two worlds, even under the same roof. He's not around anymore anyways. We had a son - emphasis on had."

Rachel's face pales upon hearing this, not knowing what else to do, she puts her hand on Mary's shoulder. Mary gives Rachel a sad smile, appreciating the gesture.

"I...I don't know what to say."

"I don't let the past hurt me, though dulling the pain helps tremendously." Mary says, unconsciously wiping her eye "After a pretty bad crash, my brother and I were pretty on and off."

"But they got better ?" Rachel asks.

"They got worse before they got better." Mary says with a heavy sigh "It's best to leave it at that."

Without really paying attention to what she's doing, Rachel gently rubs Mary's shoulder, before her hand makes a journey down Mary's back.

It's only when Rachel has her hand on Mary's lower back, does the older woman arch her back.

"Mmm, but enough about me." Mary groans, leaning away from Rachel's touch "It is my understanding you yourself were going through a loss."

Rachel recoils a bit as she's snapped back to reality.

"Oh, that..." Rachel says as she starts to stare off.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear your little talk with Jefferson." Mary chuckles "What, with that explosive performance outside the coffee shop."

Rachel sighs herself, looking down at her feet before she asks.

"Promise you won't judge me ?"

"I haven't been judgmental so far, have I ?"

Rachel takes a deep breath, before - like she did with Jefferson earlier that day - spilled her guts; about her biological mother's drug addiction, her parents divorce, and how her dad tried to get her hooked back on heroin, after her recovery. How Rachel spent the next few years trying to reconnect with her, before just weeks ago, Sera died of a drug overdose.

While Rachel was trying to keep herself, hoping Mary doesn't judge or dismiss her like Jefferson did. Mary just looks at her with an unreadable expression. Rachel winces in anticipation when Mary makes her move, but time seems to slow as Mary wraps one arm around Rachel's shoulder, and the other around her waist, before pulling her into a hug.

At this point, Rachel doesn't care if she makes a mess of herself, she just lets it out as she buries her face into the older woman's shoulder. All the while, Mary just brushed her hand through Rachel's strawberry blonde hair, and Rachel could almost swear she was being rocked.

Rachel had to have been held like this for a minute and a half before she lifted her face up from Mary. She notices a noticeable wet stain where her face just was.

"Sorry." Rachel wipes her face with her own sleeve, still sniffling a little, but her sobs had long since passed "I-I don't know what came over me."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Mary smiles and shrugs "I take it this is the first time you opened up like this."

Rachel nods, once again wiping her eyes.

"That's the fucked up part too; if Chloe was here, I probably would have let this out a whole lot earlier." Rachel says "She probably knows what I am going through better than anyone."

"And this Chloe, she's someone you're close to ?" Mary asks "Your special someone ?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know." Rachel sighs, once again looking at her feet "This happened years before Chloe and I even met, but her dad passed when she was a kid. Did a number on her really. Chloe spent a month or so with her grandma in California, but when she went back to Arcadia Bay, I don't think she could adjust to the sudden changes so easily."

Mary nods with an understanding expression. 

"But...?" Mary asks.

"I don't know, I guess I didn't want to bother her with my problems." Rachel shakes her head "I don't know what it is, but lately I don't think we've been as close as we used to be. For a while it felt like we were drifting apart you know; Chloe has her issues to work out, I have mine."

Rachel just looks out into the distance as she says this. There's something in the back of her mind telling her "Keep telling yourself that, Rachel; you know you're just adding to the hurt Chloe's going through."

Rachel shakes her head at these annoying thoughts. 

She has no doubt Chloe was feeling the same disconnect that Rachel was; that Rachel could just disappear from Arcadia Bay, and Chloe wouldn't notice she's gone, or care if she found out. 

Say Rachel left for California, what then ? Rachel has plans in mind for Los Angeles, Chloe doesn't have the same aim. In all likelihood, Chloe would just beeline to her grandma's condo, and make a new life for herself with her family.

As if she were reading Rachel's mind, Mary speaks.

"I know it's a cliché to say this but...I have been where you are. You and Chloe." Mary says, brushing her hand through Rachel's hair.

Rachel simply looks at Mary, who takes that as her cue to continue.

"I've known loss - I have seen how much such a drastic change in your life can drastically change you as a person." Mary wipes her eyes at the memory "Leaves a pretty big void you try to fill. Even when you dig your way out, you're always finding ways to fill that hole."

"How'd you get over it ?" Rachel asks.

"You don't. It just gets easier after a while; when you're sufficiently numb, it makes going down that road a lot easier." Again, Mary wipes her eye "I guess we're both just trying to fill that void. I take it, that's why you're here ?"

Rachel doesn't even nod, but the way she averts her gaze tells Mary all she needs to hear.

Mary takes Rachel by the chin and directs her gaze to her own.

"I'm not here to judge you, Rachel Amber." Mary says "I only wish to help however I can."

Again, Rachel says nothing, she only stares. At both Mary's grey eyes...and her red lips, curved into a friendly smile. An alluring smile.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel leans her face forward. She stops a few inches in, waiting for Mary to do something, or say something to get her to stop.

Mary does nothing or says nothing. She only parts her lips, licking them slightly.

Rachel commits, leaning in all the way, until her lips connect with Mary's. Her mouth was cold, which Rachel attributes to the cold weather. She felt Mary's tongue slip into her mouth, and returned in kind. Rachel opened one of her eyes, carefully looking to see they were not being watched.

She feels Mary's cold hand on her cheek, as the older woman puts more intensity into their kiss. Not one to be upstaged, Rachel places her hand on the back of Mary's neck, holding the woman close.

Rachel stops to take her breath, looking Mary in the eyes, as Mary returns in kind. Mary's expression was pretty unreadable, but it was those dilated pupils that told Rachel that Mary was more into this than she was letting on.

Confident in what she's doing, Rachel brushes a strand of hair behind Mary's ear. A friendly gesture that gets a small smile from Mary.

Giggling herself, Rachel leans in again, taking Mary's lips into her own, and placing her hand on the older woman's cheek. Her other hand gets lost in Mary's dark hair. It then travels to the back of Mary's neck. Onto her shoulder. Her upper chest. And finally-

Mary briefly groans into the kiss before parting. Mary looks down, and it's only then Rachel notices that she's touching the older woman's breast.

"S-sorry!" Rachel shrinks back, releasing her grip looking away in embarrassment "I-I don't know what came over me! I shouldn't have-"

Mary shakes her head and chuckles.

"I wouldn't worry about it; I too get pretty excited in the game of escapism."

Rachel buries her face in both hands, blushing furiously and hoping she doesn't start crying again.

She relaxes a little as she feels Mary's hand on her back.

"Tell you what," Mary starts "You could use a proper trip, something to take your mind off things. Why don't I take you-"

"To your place ?"

"Hmm, perhaps," Mary jokingly thinks for a second "We could use a little freshening up, but I was hoping to show you a little more around Portland, before your trip is up."

Rachel shudders a little, reminding herself she is a little underdressed for the snowy weather.

"I guess that can work." Rachel looks up and down Mary "And after that ?"

"Up to you, I suppose. This is your trip, after all." Mary shrugs with a playful smirk, before leaning in and whispering into her ear "But for future references ? Good things come to those who wait."

Rachel blushes a little, another shudder courses through her body, but she's guessing that's not from the cold.

"It's a date." Rachel says.

And with that, Mary takes Rachel by the hand and stands her up, wrapping an arm around her lower back, as she walks the younger woman out of the park. Feeling particularly bold, Rachel too wraps her hand around Mary's lower back, resting her hand somewhere a little down south, earning a scoff and a chuckle from the older woman.

"You're such a boy, you know that ?" Mary asks.

"I tend to think of myself as a nymphomaniac." Rachel wiggles her eyes, removing her hand.

"Is that so ?" Mary raises an eyebrow of her own "Well, I'm sure there's a lot more to learn about each other."

"Day's still young." Rachel shrugs "And the night has far from started."

-----

Los Angeles, May 19th, 2015

For the past few months, Rachel Amber's relationship with the Reid's was simply a mixed bag.

They met like six other times face to face over the past four months. One thing she learned was that the Reid's were certainly one for secrecy. They didn't want you to know about them, unless they wanted you to know about them.

Rachel would find it annoying but as far as she was concerned, they let her know enough.

She knows the actual truth of her disease. She knows there is ostensibly a cure. And she knows that in addition to two warring vampire clans, there were hunter organizations. Because of course there are. On the upside (or downside) both clans had people on the inside.

And seeing as Rachel is in the middle of all this, she feels she has more eyes on her than she did in death.

Every so often, Rachel would feel a fog in her mind; like something was missing in her memory that she couldn't put her finger on. Like there was someone home waiting for her. But when she'd tried to think back, there'd be something blank in her head.

This was one of those days.

The past few weeks, Rachel was on the down low. As Vivian Manning, she could be a little more public; a fiction author, who does photography for the porn industry ? She has just the right interaction with people. As Scarlet Rivers, Rachel would get her hands dirty. Really dirty.

As Scarlet Rivers, she'd just collect money from fight clubs, strip clubs, drug dealers in Mordred's employ. Then there came the days her bloodlust started to get the best of her.

Back in April, she was on duty at a strip club racket, when one dancer realized her drink was spiked. In the heat of the moment, Rachel got to the would-be rapist before the bouncer did; some old rich guy, here behind his wife's back. In the fit of rage, Rachel did something to the perp that made him suffer a heart attack, and the dancers were more scared of her.

At an earlier date, at the fight club, one of the female fighters bragged about beating her son. It was the first instance of Rachel herself going into the ring to put one of her fighters in their place. That place being a hospital bed.

Just the other day, while on a drug run, Rachel had to settle a dispute. It was between one of Mordred's drug mules, and a recovering addict mother who forgot to pay a debt two weeks prior. The dispute ended with the dealer's legs busted and Rachel laying down the law to the mother for going back off wagon when her kids need her the most.

That shit was a little close to home. Getting chewed out by Mordred's boys be damned.

It was also around the time that Rachel had to remind Mordred's (human) employees which of them was now a creature of the night.

These past few weeks were "Scarlet Rivers" weeks, so when Rachel got the chance to jump into "Vivian Manning's" shoes, she'd take it.

In this case, she was hired out by these two girls to do a "body positivity" shoot. Not normally what her studio does, but money is money, and a good cause is a good cause. In fact, Vivian was asked by name.

As she pulled into her parking space at the studio, her phone went off. She got another text message from one Jonathan "John" Reid.

"I'd keep an eye out if I were you."

Rachel sighs and shakes her head, going to make a call. When Reid picks up she says "You don't have to be vague you know. Plus anyone who traces your texts may get the wrong idea."

"My apologies." Reid says "Force of habit. You know what they say about old habits."

Rachel nods trying to be understanding. She picked up on Jonathan Reid's recent history; in the early 2000's, his interactions with computers, phones and the like were limited. He never used social media, and his secretive life meant that he was too used to being vague with his words. The few times he spoke on public forums and boards, he kept his sentences short and to the point.

Not helping is that Reid was held in a prisoners camp in 2008, only escaped in 2013, and spent much of the last year in hiding in isolation.

As John Reid, he kept a minimal presence in LA; a Doctor who worked with war veterans and children. His partner Elizabeth "Elisa" Ashbury was a little more public with her businesses. In fact, she recently bought out the studio Rachel currently works at. And runs the company to publish her books.

As far as anything was concerned, Vivian Manning was just an employee of Elisa Ashbury Reid.

"Look, can you tell me what to keep my eye out for ?"

"What else do you know about the Guard of Priwen ?" Reid asks.

"Vampire hunters. Descending from the Round Table. Now there's a civil war between them." Rachel answers "What of them ?"

"We got word that they have reached LA." Reid says "I'm already looking into it, seeing how much trouble they'll be causing."

"But ?"

"Just letting you know who to keep your eye on; they usually guise themselves as constables, gangsters, even prostitutes."

Rachel takes a deep breath, as she feels a headache creep up on her.

"You are suspicious of everyone." Rachel says to see if she got it right.

"Nah. Just anyone who stares. Hasn't steered me wrong before." Reid says.

"Have you considered taking a breather day ?" Rachel asks as she steps out of her jeep "World on your shoulders like this, you could use a little time to relax."

Reid says nothing for a few minutes. There was a long pause, and whatever Rachel said had the good doctor thinking. There's a lot about Reid's history she doesn't know. Maybe things he prefers not talking about. This was seemingly confirmed when Reid says.

"I'm sorry. The last time I let my guard down, I did so for too long. It was far too costly."

"I get it, I overspoke." Rachel says  "Tell you what, I'll keep my eyes out in the meantime, and we can talk this over more tonight or tomorrow."

"Keep your eye out will do for now." Reid says "You're on a need to know basis, and there's still much for us to uncover."

With that, Reid hangs up, letting Rachel step out of her car and towards the studio.

----

The studio was spic and spam. It hasn't been used in about a month. It was usually used for swimsuit models, family shoots, and once in a blue moon, pornographic shoots.

This one would be an instance of nude modelling.

Rachel was about the only one in the studio, but she figures she can handle this shoot solo.

Rachel would check on her camera, the lights making sure everything was up to snuff.

She was told by email that this would be the first time these models would be shot in the nude; she didn't want them feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable, so maybe the less eyes ogling them the time.

Soon enough the two models arrived. Both of them are about nineteen to twenty years of age. One a blonde caucasian, by the name of Samantha Giddings, and a dark haired Asian by the name of Emily Davis.

By the way they dressed, you'd think they were new to this whole modelling thing; Emily was dressed in a white t-shirt, black skinny jeans and high heels. Sam was in a red turtleneck, dark blue slacks, and a simple pair of sneakers.

"I take it this is your first day." Rachel asks with a snarky smile, "Modeling, I mean."

"Actually, we did a Christmas Album two years before." Emily says trying to sound witty, but something told Rachel her heart wasn't in it "Though I'm guessing this is gonna be a lot less wholesome."

"Nothing unwholesome about the human body; unless the image is marred in any way." Rachel says, making her way to the two to shake their hands "Vivian Manning. Though you probably knew that by the emails."

"Samantha Giddings." Sam shakes Rachel's hand.

"And Emily Davis." Emily follows "Though you got that from the emails."

"Hope you don't mind...This." Sam says gesturing over their clothes "We figured if we were shooting out of these anyways we might as well go casual, y'know."

"I get it, I get it." Rachel nods "Sometimes I don't bother getting dressed when I have the house to myself. Are you nervous ?"

"I'm a little jumpy." Sam says.

"Me ? I'm cool." Emily says, though her left arm notably fidgets, prompting Sam to take her hand.

"That's what they all say," Rachel says with a snarky smile, before deciding to get to business "So, um, you wanna just get it over with or you need time to settle in."

"Oh, uh, sure." Sam chuckles, "That'd be great." 

Emily nods in agreement, and Rachel gestures to them on a couch.

"So, we often use this couch for some of our shoots, but if you prefer, we have a bedroom set up down the hall; though we sometimes do shoots at our pool, and shower rooms." Rachel explains as she takes a seat of her own side out the couch, while Emily and Sam huddle up together "Where would you prefer shooting ?"

"Uh," Emily looks around. "The bed sounds right..."

Rachel smirks as she looks at how flustered Emily is. Hoping she's not overstepping anything, she reaches forward to take Emily's hand into hers.

"I get it, first time in your birthday suit on camera." Rachel nods reassuringly "If you want we can always reschedule."

"No, no!" Emily shakes her head, waving her free hand to assure Rachel "This is therapy for me."

Rachel raises her eyebrow with a questioning expression.

"It's a body positivity thing." Sam clarifies for Emily "See, months back, our friends...we were-"

"Attacked by bears." Emily says, but she does so with an expression and tone that told Rachel that was what Emily was conditioned to say "And they, you know, left scars and all that."

"A friend of ours has a few scratches on her face." Sam makes a gesture around her own face "It's doing a number on her, so we-"

"Want to do nudes to help her with her self esteem ?" Rachel finishes, guessing what Sam was about to say, before trying to clarify "I mean, I heard weirder reasons for wanting to do this."

"I mean, it's something Em and I have been talking about for a while now." Sam puts a hand on Emily's.

"And this friend," Rachel starts, pointing back and forth between the two other women "Is she, like a third wheel or something ?"

"Or something." Emily nods.

Sam raises a hand in an "I digress" motion.

"Cards off the table ?" Sam starts "I kinda went around with other girls the past few months. I know, it's not healthy and all that, but-"

Rachel shakes her head with a chuckle. 

"No, it's cool. I won't judge." Rachel says "I've been there - I mean, not there like I was attacked by bears or anything, but I too went around."

Sam smiles sweetly, before looking back at Em.

"It's just Em isn't as confident about it as I was."

"The wend- the bear, kind of left a mark on me." Emily says, pulling down the shirt covering her shoulder to reveal a bite mark.

The skin was still a dark red, and had a notable hardness where the bite mark was, like it just barely managed to heal over.

However, Rachel notices the bite mark doesn't look like what you'd expect from a bear; it resembles something you'd get from a human bite mark...if a human's teeth were all needle-like.

Even so, Rachel winces, and covers her shoulder just imagining what that might be like. As a vampire, Rachel tends to use her teeth sparingly, so she can only imagine what a mouth full of fangs would do to a girl.

"It itches and tingles a little when it rains." Emily says.

Rachel nods, keeping an understanding and professional expression and demeanor about her. She then turns towards Sam.

"And you ?"

Sam bites her lower lip, before taking a deep breath.

Without saying a word, Sam gets up from the couch standing before the other two girls.

"Is it okay if I...?" Sam starts to ask, grabbing the hem of her turtleneck.

Rachel was a little taken off guard at how abrupt Sam was being, but considering she's trying to be professional, and she's no stranger to naked bodies, she simply nods.

In a few seconds (though with the way Rachel's heart stops beating, it felt like hours) Sam pulled her turtle neck up off her body. She clearly wasn't wearing an undershirt of any kind, and struck an impressive figure that made Rachel's mouth one dry, and her heart skipped a beat. 

Something in the back of Rachel's head told her not to ogle - she had someone waiting for her at home, but every time she tries to think about who's waiting...all that's there is a fog, a blank in her memory.

Regardless, Rachel's train of thought was interrupted when Sam pulled her red turtleneck over her head, putting a hand on her hip and puffing her chest out with pride and a shameless smile.

Both Sam and Emily look at Rachel with a coy smile, noticing the way her eyes roam up and down Sam's torso; besides Sam's obvious physical beauty, and a body that show she knows her way around the gym, there was a few things that drew Rachel's attention away from the blonde's chest.

A pale scratch mark across her stomach - a magenta bruise going down her side, and another scratch mark on her shoulder.

"The legs are something else." Sam says plainly.

"I'm sorry...a bear did that ?" Rachel asks.

Sam and Emily look at each other before Sam answers.

"Yeah pretty much."

"You know," Emily says leaning back on the couch trying to be casual. "In ancient Europe, it was considered taboo to even talk about bears for fear of summoning them."

Rachel shrugs hearing this, trying to keep eye contact with Emily and not the half naked woman standing before them.

"Okay, but what culture doesn't have a monster you're not supposed to talk about ?" Rachel asks "The Swede's thought wolves were taboo to the point of nearly hunting them to extinction."

"Bottom line," Sam interrupts, pausing a few times as she continues talking "We probably shouldn't have spoken about the...bears...after the first attack."

Emily nods in agreement, before Sam speaks again.

"Would you like to see the bottom half ?" Sam breathes out.

Rachel nods, and like that, Sam simply kicks off her sneakers.

"Here goes." Sam says, as she unbuckles her slacks. 

She makes a bit of a show of pulling them down, but this time, Rachel's focus is less on her shapely legs, and more on a noticeable scratch mark trailing down her left thigh, and a bite mark on her calf; not so different from the bite mark on Emily's shoulder.

"A...bear did that ?" Rachel asks hesitantly. With little regard to the etiquette, Rachel stands up and steps forward, before kneeling down to get a closer look "It..attacked you twice ?"

Sam smiles, but bites her lip in a way that implies she's holding something in. 

As for Rachel, she notices five pale marks going up her inner thigh. It doesn't look like something a bear could inflict. Mountain lion maybe, but she notices the slightest bruise on Sam's lower thigh - it was like a human-like hand took a hard enough grip to leave a bruise.

Rachel thought something fishy was afoot, but decided to not make Sam talk about it if she wasn't comfortable.

"Regardless, you are very beautiful, Samantha Giddings." Rachel says in a plain and professional manner "Scars and bruises are only skin deep after all."

Sam blushes a little, but nods, gesturing down to her body.

"Yeah, I'm pretty confident about all of this."

"You should be." Rachel smirks, before turning to Emily "And what of you ?"

"Me ?" Emily says "Oh, the bite on the shoulder is all there is, but I'm a little more self conscious than she is - I mean look at her."

Emily gestures to Sam to emphasize her point.

There's a pause before Rachel speaks again.

"So uh," Rachel fakes a cough "Seeing as everything is tits out already, I'd say now is as good a time as any to get to work; what do you say ?"

The other two girls smirk and nod, with Emily speaking up "Think you can point me to the dressing room ?"

"Yeah; third door on the right - second door the bedroom set, where we'll do our shooting."

"I'll see you there then." Sam says with a wink, before making her way down the hall, with a confident strut that makes it easier to ignore her scratches and bruises.

As Emily gets up, Rachel takes her by the wrist, noticing the way Emily's eyes follow Sam.

"So, this is gonna sound a little unprofessional of me, but are you two-?"

"Oh, that ?" Emily says "Sometimes. Our friend group can be a little weird in our relationships; I got a boyfriend Matt, who I'm on and off with."

"And this is one of your breaks ?"

"Second one." Emily nods "During, Sam and I have unusual coping mechanisms; but our friends group have an understanding."

Emily gives Rachel a friendly pat on the shoulder, letting her know that they got business to do.

"We can talk over the shoot. You can multitask, right ?"

  ----

The bedroom set just had a recent paint job, and redecorating.

Previously, it was done in the matter of a child's bedroom. The last customer for Vivian Manning was a mother and father who wanted to get pics done for a pair of toddlers; it was for this toy magazine.

For the past week, the room was being renovated to resemble that of that of a college students; the bright blue walls have been repainted as a more dark blue/gray shade; the smaller bed and close dresser replaced with that more befitting of a college student, and a toy box replaced with a desk, and three book stands; one for books, one for movies, and one for a TV.

At the far side of the room was a small table, used to place their drinks.

None of this was on Rachel's mind of course; she was too busy making sure the camera's up to snuff, and distracting herself from the naked blonde, laying on the bed like this was routine for her. This was doubly hard to do, with said blonde making small talk with her.

"...So, what brought you to LA ?" Sam would ask, as she sits up to stretch her back.

Rachel shrugs, looking away from the way Sam's chest heaves a little with her stretch "Same as everyone else I guess. City of opportunity."

"Yeah, but why are you here exactly ?" Sam asks, now sitting up "I mean, Em and I are here for college and stuff-"

"Oh, really ? What are you taking ?"

Sam shrugs "Oh you, know, phys ed, art. I thought I'd have a go at psychiatry, but in retrospect, I don't think it's for me."

"Hm," Rachel chuckles "Me ? I didn't go to college. Straight outta the Academy and right into the big city."

"Oh, that's cool. You know, there was a high schooler who got a book published." Sam sighs as she lays back down, and feeling a sudden itch, scratches herself...on her chest.

Rachel bites her lip and tries to look away; it was as if the girl was toying with her by toying with-

"It really has been a long time- FOCUS RACHEL!!!" She thinks to herself.

"Lucky girl." Rachel says "By the way, where are you two from ? Before LA, I mean."

"Well, I was born in Ontario, but we moved to Alberta when I was five. Met Em and the girls back in third grade, so I can't really speak for them."

"Canada, eh ?" Rachel smirks. That playfully annoyed eye roll Sam gives her lets her know her pun is appreciated "Y'know, years back my folks and I went there for a vacation; went to different states-"

"Provinces." Sam corrects her.

"Provinces, right." Rachel says with an embarrassed blush "Anyways, we spent a couple days in Ontario, a couple days in Quebec, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island."

"No kidding," Emily's voice says. Rachel turns around to see Emily Davis wearing nothing by a loose fitting black bathrobe. Rachel's guessing that Em is still working up the confidence to show her what she's got "Ever been to Anne of Green Gables ?"

"Small world isn't it ?"

"You know, when I went there, I was told the woods behind the house were haunted." Emily says as she looks over the room "Thought it was something made up for the cartoon, and didn't seriously think about it. But recently...I've been second guessing a lot."

"In any case, the vacay was the coldest two weeks of my life." Rachel says with a snarky smile and tone.

This causes Sam and Emily to scoff and groan.

"Canada's not even that cold!" Sam says "You Americans have thin skin, you know that ?"

"What time of the year was it ?" Emily crosses her arms, a playful hostility in her tone.

Rachel puts a finger on her chin.

"Mid October, I think."

"Pussy." Emily playfully scoffs.

"Oh, and I assume you're two are equipped for such conditions ?" Rachel playfully asks.

"Canadian, Miss Manning." Sam tsks "Coldest day in LA is our Summer."

"How are you two still alive ?" Rachel asks jokingly "What, were you bitten by a vampire or something ?"

"Or something." Emily nods nervously, before taking her place on the bed.

There is a pause in the air, before Rachel fakes a cough.

"So anyways, um. How do you wanna go about it ?" Rachel asks.

"Hmm ?" Emily and Sam look up at her at the same time.

"You wanna do things solo, or together ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh that ?" Emily says "We were thinking of taking turns going solo, and doing a few together."

"I see." Rachel says "And you want your faces out of frame ? It's just, I speak from experience when I say, you might not want these coming back to bite you-"

Sam dismissively waves her hand.

"No it's cool; these are for our friend...s." Sam says "There's nothing I got that they haven't seen of me this Spring Break."

Rachel raises an eyebrow.

"Like I said earlier," Emily sits up "Things can get pretty weird in our friend group."

"Oh ? Do tell."

"I'll go first sweetie." Sam kisses Emily on her cheek, before leaning back on the bed "It's kind of a long story."

"It's not that long. It's been going on for like four months." Emily says getting off the bed.

"Em never really dated outside her friend group; used to be her and Mike since Middle School." Sam gets in a pose mimicking that from Titanic "Of course, whenever there was a split, I'd sometimes fill the void."

"Then it was me and Matt," Emily steps out of frame behind Rachel, leaning in to take a picture "Shouldn't you be shooting ?"

"On it." Rachel says, taking one shot of Sam in that pose, before taking another one when Sam blinked "And it's not weird for you ?"

"Not really." Sam says, briefly breaking the pose to scratch her nose "The eight of us have this understanding."

"Sam and I have been on and off though High School." Emily says "Same as Mike and me, and as of February, Matt."

"We're still friends. Sometimes more." Sam nods, letting Rachel circle the bed to get a few more shots in these different angles "See, Jess and Emily go both ways."

"We think Mike and Matt do too, but that's neither here nor there." Emily adds. She too circles the bed, ogling the girl, but being careful to stay out of Rachel's camera frame.

Rachel nods in understanding, trying to keep a professional, sober demeanor.

"Okay, there's a shot I want to take, but I'll have to go on the bed to do it." Rachel says.

"Of course." Sam nods.

Rachel kicks off her shoes, climbing onto the bed. While she tries to stay sober, her heart pounds erratically as she all but climbs up on top of Sam, taking a birds eye view picture of Sam laying across the bed. Rachel had to climb between Sam's open legs, her sex unconsciously tingling as her bare foot briefly touches Sam's leg.

"Focus, Rachel." She thinks to herself. 

But how can she, all she can think about is how long it's been since she even touched herself.

What's worse, is everything she tries to think of something to distract her, all there is is that fog blanking things out.

"So, you're polyamorous ?" Rachel asks, trying to distract herself.

"Kinda, sorta." Sam says, sitting up as she gets into another pose; this one putting one arm under her chest, pushing them up, and another hand resting just above her groin "Two of our friends, Chris and Ashley, are the only ones who are, y'know, monogamous."

"I'm sort of between Mike and Matt," Emily says "And when I'm between them, I find myself between Sam and Jess."

"Jess and Em are bi you see-"

"And Matt and Mike." Emily interrupts.

Sam rolls her eyes "But I never really liked men like that, so I'm pretty much just platonic with them. But what can I say ?That night changed us."

Rachel takes a few pictures of Sam at different angles, before looking them over.

"A bear attack brought you together like that ?"

"Yes." Sam and Emily say at the same time, almost insistently "Bears."

Rachel chuckles and rolls her eyes.

"Remind me to invite you to dinner sometimes. My-" Rachel was about to say something to the effect of "My girlfriend would love to meet you" but before she can acknowledge the existence of this person, that annoying foggy feeling once again clouded her head "I'd love to see this unit of yours."

By this point, Rachel has had about twelve pictures of Sam from different angles, looking over the pictures she got on camera.

"I can have these ready by next week."

"Are you okay, Vivian ?" Sam asks.

"Hmm ?" Rachel asks.

"You're nose." Sam says, tapping the side of her own nose.

Rachel puts a hand under her nose and notices the smallest amount of blood coming from one of her nostrils. These have been happening a lot lately, particularly if she focuses too much on that annoying foggy hazing her mind; like her head was trying to keep her from something (or someone).

"Oh, sorry I-" Rachel tries to reach for a box of napkins kept one the nightstand beside the bed (you never know when you have a sudden emergency like this).

"No, let me." Sam says, reaching for a napkin and handing it to Rachel. 

While Rachel was wiping her face clean, she let Sam take a look at her camera.

"What do you know, you get my good side, even with my bad side."

"You don't have a bad side." Rachel shakes her head. The inflection in her voice is a lighter higher on account of holding her nostrils together "Scars are only skin deep, trust me I should know."

"You got scars ?" Emily asks.

"I mean, I cover them with make up and such, but...." Rachel says, satisfied the bleeding stopped "Some psycho pulled a knife on me about five years back."

Tossing aside her napkin, Rachel nonchalantly takes off her shirt, wearing nothing but a bra black beneath it, as she shows off her stabbing mark on upper left arm "See, it's a little faded but it didn't hit anything vital."

Emily steps closer to the bed to get a closer look.

"Jesus," Sam says under her breath, "Looks like it still hurts."

"Not really." Rachel shrugs "You only really notice this stuff when you every now and then. Yours will fade too."

Emily notices something around Rachel's scar; "What are those ?"

Rachel looks were Emily's looking; there were a few smaller scars punctured around the stab wound. Needles. Marks left by needles. Marks left by Mark.

"I...don't wanna talk about it." Rachel says plainly.

Both girls nod in understanding. There is a pause in the air as it begins to dawn on Rachel she's sitting half naked on a bed with a fully naked girl, and her on and off girlfriend, who's a drop of a bathrobe away from being in her birthday suit.

After talking about their swinging relationship no less.

"So," Rachel finally says before looking at Emily "How 'bout you ? You wanna...?"

"Oh." Emily says looking down her bathrobe "Uh, sure, just give us a few."

"Of course." Rachel nods "I could take a few to freshen up myself."

----

As Rachel said she would, it took her a few moments to freshen up in the set's adjacent bathroom; it wasn't too big, and to give it a more residential appearance, it came with a small walk in shower.

Rachel spent most of those moments looking in the mirror. She knows her nose stopped bleeding, but the way Emily noticed those little needle marks in Rachel's skin - something she herself scarcely acknowledges, brought back memory's she'd rather keep in the back of her head.

The Dark Room; the Bright Light; the muffled voices of Jefferson and Nathan arguing; the cold earth of the junkyard; and of course the Queen's voice waking her up; “Hush now child, your dream is over."

Rachel shudders trying to shake it off of her. She simply washes her face off in the sink, taking a deep breath.

"Get it together," Rachel says to herself "You can't slip back to that. You've got a role to play; Vivian Manning. You've got lights, you've got cameras; now action."

When Rachel makes her way back to the bedroom set, she's greeted with the sight of Sam wrapping an arm around Emily's shoulder; the two were apparently talking something over before they noticed Rachel.

"Aren't you missing something ?" Sam asks, pointing out the fact Rachel's still shirtless.

Rachel looks down and shrugs with a nonchalant nod.

"Oh. That. You're not the only one confident about their body, you know." Rachel says "Besides, when in Rome."

Rachel turns her attention to Emily.

"Nervous ?"

"Not really." Emily says with an obviously nervous chuckle, scratching the back of her neck "I mean go big or go home, right ? I just could use a little push is all."

Rachel nods with an understanding expression "Would it help if I took off a little extra too ?"

"Wh-what ?" Emily asks, a little flustered.

"You aren't the first model I shot like this to get nervous like this. I find it helps make them comfortable." Rachel says, trying to keep a professional tone and expression, but there was something about Sam and Emily that made it harder for Rachel to keep her resolve.

The more she tries to think away from them, the more she felt her sex itch.

"If...you're okay with it." Emily says with a bashful smile.

With that, Rachel briefly sets her camera down on the desk, reaches behind her back to undo the hooks of her bra, before slowly removing the item.

There is a pause in the air as Sam and Emily briefly look over Rachel.

"Okay, so," Rachel bites her lower lip "Try to keep your eyes on the camera."

With that, Sam climbed off the bed, kissing Emily on the cheek, while her girlfriend prepared herself.

"Okay," Emily takes a deep breath "Here goes..."

Emily stood up in front of the camera, opening her bathrobe, and pulling its lacy belt loose. With a shrug of her shoulders, the robe fell to the ground revealing Emily's form.

Emily tries her hardest to keep a calm and collected composure, even putting a hand on her hip in a confident pose. Despite this, Rachel could see the way Emily bit her lip and the way her eyes flicker away that she's more nervous than she's letting on.

Rachel decides to continue the conversation, hoping it will ease Emily further, she gives a waving gesture to get Emily to sit back on the bed and strike a first sitting pose. As this is happening, Sam steps out of the frame to give Emily her space.

"So, you say your friends group is kinda sorta a poly thing." Rachel says taking the first picture.

"Again, it's more like we swing between boyfriends and girlfriends." Emily says, sounding a little more confident "Except Chris and Ashley."

"Are your friends in the city ?"

"Out of state." Emily answers "But you know, we're still in contact."

"Chris and Ash are staying out in Bright Falls." Sam chimes in "Matt, Mike and Jess are staying at this boarding house in Delos Crossing."

Emily glances at Sam as if she said too much. Sam gives her a sheepish, apologetic look.

Rachel doesn't seem to notice anything's off. She knows Delos Crossing from Jonathan and Elizabeth's mentions of having a safe house there. She thinks nothing of it other than "Small world."

"Delos Crossing's in Alaska, isn't it ?" Rachel remarks, with a joking smirk, circling the bed to get Emily at different angles "Surely that'll test the resolve of you hot blooded Canucks."

"Doubt it." Sam confidently chuckles, crossing her arms "I'll have you know, on March break, I swam through the Niagara river."

 "But enough about us." Emily says, having three more pictures taken of her before she gets into another pose; this one being spread eagle in a lying position, her head supported by one hand; her other arm covering her breasts "Tell us about Vivian Manning."

"What's there to talk about ?" Rachel says taking a picture "Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world."

"Really ?" Emily says, raising an eyebrow "You got anyone waiting for you back at home ?"

There's that fog again, but Rachel shakes her head to keep it from giving her a nose bleed.

"Not really." Rachel says.

While her backstory for Vivian Manning isn't written down, she's usually vague enough that if she were to speak truthfully about her past, no one could pinpoint her true identity.

This was one of those times.

"I don't really talk to my parents anymore, and everyone I'm close to is in the past." Rachel says with a sigh "Besides, it's not like they'd want to see me if I reached out."

"That sounds...regretful." Sam remarks.

"I have a lot of things I regret." Rachel nods, taking a couple more pictures of Emily.

Emily moves into a new pose, laying on her stomach, her tuchus to the roof.

"Anyone in particular ?"

Rachel thinks back to her. The media circus around Arcadia Bay making her the scapegoat for poor little Nathan and his problems; James Amber's favorite scapegoat for the one who took his perfect daughter down the undesirable path. And yet the more Rachel thinks about her, the more she thinks about how badly she hurt her in the end.

"Chl- Clarice." Rachel says. Nice save. "You know the pixie dream girl cliché right ?"

Emily nods.

"It was a lot like that." Rachel says taking four pictures.

"What happened ?"

"Em, maybe she doesn't want to talk about it." Sam says.

"No, it's cool." Rachel sighs "It was my fault in the end. I-I left her behind and just kept letting her down."

There's a pause, which indicates to Rachel they want to hear more.

"Chl- Clarice and I were born on opposite sides of the tracks. Our dynamic could be summed up by the song Skater Boi."

"So it's a Jack and Rose thing ?" Emily asks, getting out of her pose to a standing sitting position. Sam too takes a seat, just off the bed's edge.

"Something like that." Rachel says, "She and I didn't really fit into the same circles; at least publicly. I was one of those preppy kinds of kids; the kind whose parents would want as a trophy, you know ? Model student, model daughter. Even I tend to think I was born to be a model." Rachel says.

"Where did you go ?"

Rachel pauses for a second, trying to recall that Academy in Boone County.

"Eagle Stone." Rachel answers upon recalling.

"Eagle Stone, eh ? Pardon my Canuck speak." Sam says "But when was this ?"

"2010." Rachel says, nonchalantly looking over her camera.

"And you were a photography student ?" Emily adds.

"Photography, art, theatre; if it sounds classy, you'll find me there." Rachel says looking up from her camera "Why ?"

"So you had him for a teacher ?" Emily asks.

Rachel pauses again. Was there something about Eagle Stone she overlooked in her research ? Perhaps, who was teaching a photography class at that school during 2010 ?

Emily hesitates before saying the name.

"Mark Jefferson ?"

Rachel says nothing, but the way her hands shake a little, her pupils shrink and her face pales, seems to answer the question for her.

"I don't suppose you wanna talk about it ?" Sam asks.

Rachel noticeably shudders.

Again, she thinks back to that night; the itchy sensation of dirt on her skin; the cold night air; being wrapped up in a cold wet blanket didn't help. She'd fade in and out of consciousness, but she remembers Jefferson shouting at Nathan.

"This is your mess, Mr. Prescott! Next time you could prepare to clean things up on your own, cuz I ain't gonna bail you out forever!"

Rachel shakes her head, both to answer Sam's question and to dismiss the memory.

"Not particularly, no."

"It's just, we've been following the case and all. We know a lot of Jefferson's victims were kept anonymous." Sam says.

"I wasn't one of them." Rachel says insistently. A little louder than she intended given the way both girls flinch back, though she also realizes her fangs have flashed them. Rachel hoped they didn't notice.

Once she calms herself, Rachel continues.

"But I know people who were."

"Was Clarice..?" Sam doesn't finish her question, but Rachel gets the point.

Rachel briefly thinks back to the report she read, about how Nathan drugged and apparently attempted to kidnap Chloe shortly before everything went down. So at least she's not completely lying.

"Clarice had quite a few people hurt her. Jefferson included." Rachel sighs, looking down, all but ignoring her two models "But everytime I look back on it, I often think that I hurt her the worse."

Rachel wipes her eyes, hoping she doesn't suddenly start crying. That would be embarrassing.

"I just keep trying to do better by others." Rachel says, "And trying, and trying, and trying."

Rachel sets her camera aside.

"If you don't mind ?" Rachel jabs a thumb at her drink tray on the desk. She makes her way to the tray, containing three glasses, a bottle of Pepsi and another of rum beside them.

Rachel pours herself a glass of the Pepsi before drinking it down, followed by a shot of rum. Caffeine helps the headache, and alcohol numbs the pain.

"Like I said, I try to keep it in the past." Rachel says, before looking at her camera, before looking at the camera "So how bout we focus on the now."

Sam and Emily nod.

"You girls wanna drink ?" Rachel says "I know I laid a lot on you two, figure you could use a little loosening up."

Sam gets up with a nod.

"I don't drink at the best of times, but I'll make an exception."

Sam takes it upon herself to pour a single shot of rum into a glass before drinking it down. She shudders, putting a hand on her forehead and grits her teeth.

"Fuck me!" Sam says with a seethe.

"Easy, Miss Giddings." Rachel says with a snarky smile "Let us try to keep this professional."

Sam chuckles at Rachel's remark, before waving Emily over.

"Come Em, sip up and loosen up."

"Aw, fuck it." Emily says, getting up from the bed "When in Rome, I guess."

Emily gets up from the bed, heads to the other two and takes a shot from her own.

"Ah, now it feels like the morning."

"It's 2:00 in the afternoon." Rachel corrects her.

"I sleep in late, what of it ?" Emily says with a playful glare.

"Well, I'd say we loosened up enough." Rachel claps her hands together "How about we finish this session ?"

"Why not ? Sam shrugs "Still got daylight to burn."

In about a minute, Sam and Emily get back onto the bed, while Rachel sets another film roll in her camera. And by the looks of it, the rum had a stronger effect on them than Rachel expected, considering how...bold they were being in this new pose and their displays to each other.

The two immediately got into a new pose; Emily sitting up, Sam sitting behind her; Sam would cross her legs around Emily's. At this point, Sam was...she was getting a little "handsy" with Emily.

Sam would lay her chin on one of Emily's right shoulder, while Emily leans her head back on Sam's left.

As if they forgot Rachel was there, they began peppering little kisses on each other's necks, inaudibly whispering something in each other's ears.

Rachel found herself blushing at this blatant display of affection; it was certainly distracting her from her angst from such moments ago, and it gave her a warm tingly feeling between her legs.

Even so, Rachel takes a few more pictures, even catching one when Sam and Emily kiss each other on the mouths.

It's only when Sam got a little "touchy", did Rachel muster an "Ahem."

Sam and Emily look at Rachel, who had a mildly amused embarrassed smirk on her face.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm. But this ain't a porno shoot." Rachel says, once again circling the bed to get a better angle "That costs an extra couple K."

"Sorry. Instinct was kicking in." Sam blushes, while Emily puts a hand over her eyes in embarrassment.

"No, it's cool." Rachel says taking a picture from the backside "You wanna give your partner a show, or just caught up in the moment. Happens to the best of us."

"Would you believe it's my first day ?" Emily asks in a sardonic tone.

"How about this ?" Rachel says circling back to the front "We can keep talking if it keeps your mind off things."

Both Sam and Emily nod, managing to shake off their momentarily flustered-ness.

"So you say your group is in different colleges ? After a bear attack ?" Rachel asks "How's that happen ?"

"Pretty long story." Sam says.

"We don't wanna bore you with the bureaucracy." Emily adds.

"Well, can you make a long story short ?"

"Matt, Mike and Jess were reached out too by these people in Delos Crossing; Sam and I were too, but we ended up coming here." Emily says, brushing some hair out of her eyes, given Rachel a knowing look.

"And Ash and Chris ended up going to Bright Falls; they're gonna be staying there over the summer, looking over its history."

"Oh that!" Rachel perks up "That's the place where all those people kept disappearing, right ?"

"Cauldron Lake." Sam nods "We like to think of them in the Honeymoon phase of the relationship."

"Same with Mike, Matt and Jess." Emily adds.

"Anyways," Sam continues "There's also the urban legends that surround the area. That's what got our interest."

"Can't say I heard any of that." Rachel says, putting her finger on her chin as she tries to think it over "I know this one author that disappeared there 'bout five years ago."

Rachel tries to think of his name. She shouldn't have forgotten it, he was one of her stepmom's favorite writers.

Rachel shakes her head. Probably doesn't matter at the moment.

"So you and your friends are into that kind of stuff ?"

"Urban legends, folklore and true crimes." Sam nods affirmatively, "Especially what happened back in February."

"February ?" Rachel thinks to herself, before speaking out loud "I'm sorry, where exactly in Canada are you from ?"

"Fiddler County, Alberta." Emily answers.

Fiddler County, Alberta.

Rachel tries to recall; she saw it on the news back in February; there was that incident on Mount Washington. And a second incident six days later in the township of Fiddler's River;  a "bear attack" that resulted in seventeen people being slaughtered.

It wasn't as big of a media circus as Arcadia Bay was - it was all but forgotten after two weeks - and by the looks of things, powers that be were keeping things under wraps. But word gets around when the name "ITHAQUA" ends up being carved on the signs for Blackwood Pines.

But more in than that Rachel starts to recall the names of the survivors; Samantha, Emily, Chris, Ashley, Matt, Jess and Mike. Survivors who had to leave the Country after the second incident, and currently unaccounted for.

But even more than that, she remembers something she picked up in the two years she was a vampire; if there's a mysterious incident dismissed as a "bear attack", especially at a time of year where they are hibernating ? Seven out of ten times, it's a euphemism for a supernatural creature they don't want the public knowing about.

Even so, Rachel doesn't try to let her familiarity be noticed.

"Quite the ruckus in that county months back," Rachel remarks, taking a few more pictures "Curious how it died down-"

"Yes." Sam nods, with a knowing smile "Especially compared to the cases still being looked into from years ago."

"I mean, we are into True Crimes and such, so maybe that's just us." Emily says with a similar knowing smile.

"That's how you knew about Jefferson, isn't it ? You've been following his case ?" Rachel asks, checking her camera, trying to keep herself from looking suspicious.

"Jefferson, and the rest of Arcadia Bay." Emily says nonchalantly "In fact the seven of us spent some time looking into that case as well."

"You don't say ?" Rachel says, looking away and scratching her ear.

"Yup." Sam said "I mean it wasn't personal at first, but we really got to know people."

"We kinda expanded our circle of friends to Arcadia Bay's residents." Emily adds "Especially some of Jefferson's former students."

Rachel pauses again, pretending to look over the pictures, having taken about ten of Em and Sam together.

"I mean, we kinda ended up in eachothers support group." Emily shrugs, not making a big deal out of it.

"Arcadia Bay." Sam says raising her left hand, before raising her right "Mount Washington. I don't know; sometimes it feels like the world is smaller than it is."

"Hmmm," Rachel remarks, trying to be inconspicuous "I'd say these pics are about ready."

Rachel puts the camera aside, trying her damndest at keeping a calm and professional demeanor.

"I can have these printed out, but it'll take a few days before they are good and ready."

"Can we see them ?" Sam asks.

"Why not ? It's your bodies." Rachel shrugs before walking up to them and handing them the pictures.

As Emily and Sam look through them, Sam nods with a collected grin.

"Well, I must say, you really know how to get our good sides, despite everything..." Sam looks down at her body "The bears left us."

"Think it'll be enough to encourage your friend ?"

"If nothing else, it'll give Jess some entertainment if she's missing us." Emily says with a whistle.

"Well," Rachel says, suddenly sitting between them "Scars are only skin deep after all."

As Rachel says this, she unconsciously rests a hand on Emily's shoulder, just a few inches off from the bite mark. Other hand touches Sam's shoulder, just avoiding the scratch mark.

Both girls freeze at Rachel's touch but quickly relax.

Sam returns the gesture, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder, causing the strawberry blonde to shudder.

"Thank you, Vivian." She says, taking Rachel by the hand and politely kissing her wrist "Pleasure's all ours, right Em ?"

"You said it." Emily says, giving Rachel a look that non verbally says "So, you thinking about losing the pants too ?"

There was a pause in the air, none of the three girls saying anything. They just look at eachother; their bodies, their breasts, their eyes...and their lips. Silence was so thick, Excalibur could break itself trying to cut it.

All the while Rachel is getting that foggy sensation forming in her head, as if she's supposed to be remembering something (or someone). But all that took a back seat as Rachel looked back and forth between them.

As Sam starts to lean her face towards Rachel, Rachel feels Emily rest her hand on her stomach, moving upwards towards her breasts.

Hastily, Rachel stands back up "How 'bout some drinks ? Celebrate a shoot well done ?"

"Sure," Sam says, brushing her hair.

"If it's cool with you."

"Of course it's cool with me, I was the one who suggested it." Rachel says with a joking scoff as she makes her way to the tray.

"You know," Emily starts as Rachel starts pouring a glass. "You did say we could have a get-together at your place, right ?"

"Aye." Rachel nods.

"Well, we were thinking about having a get together ourselves, when you're available." Sam adds.

"I'll have to check my calendar. When is it ?" Rachel asks, looking over her shoulder.

"About a few weeks from now."

"I see," Rachel picks up the tray, before making her way back to the bed "What's the occasion."

"Just something we agreed to every few months or so." Emily says.

"We ?"

"Us, our group," Emily starts to say.

"And those Blackwell students." Sam adds.

Time all but stopped as Rachel once she heard this.

Seemingly oblivious to this, Sam continues.

"I'm sure they'd right up your alley; a few of them are into photography too you know, like this one girl Max-"

"And this other girl, Victoria." Emily nods "Oh, I'm sure you'd love her-"

By the time Rachel reached the bed, she was so caught off guard, that she trips.

And like that, all three girls yell as their drinks fall and spill onto the bed. Although, quite a bit of it gets on the girls themselves.

Sam and Emily exclaim at the same time.

"Oh my God!"

"I am so sorry!"

"No, it's cool, it's cool!" Rachel says, picking up the glasses, checking them, making sure it's not broken "It's my fault really, should have been looking where I was going."

"Eh," Sam shudders a little indignant over having the Pespi soaking into her "Well, that's one way to take us back to March break."

Emily gets off first, Sam following after as they take initiative in taking off the bed sheets.

"Girls, you don't have too-" Rachel starts to say.

"No it's our fault you tripped."

"It's fine, I'll just run them by the wash, and get the mattress cleaned out." Rachel says, putting both hands on Sam and Emily's shoulders "Few weeks back, a kid spilled a juice box on the bed during a shoot. If anything the bed might be cursed."

There is a pause before Rachel notices she's touching Sam and Emily again. Removing her hands, Rachel gestures out the door.

"If you want I can get you some towels." Rachel says quickly "They're in a shower room just down the hall-"

"Shower room ?" Emily asks, before looking at Sam, and then back to Rachel "I mean I don't think towels alone can wash this off."

"Yeah, I mean, if it's alright with you," Sam starts to ask "Can we use your-"

"Of course." Rachel says tapping her head a little "Why didn't I think of that ?"

With that, Sam and Emily started making their way to the door, before turning back to Rachel.

"You know," Sam says "It might take a while till we're done, and we don't wanna keep you waiting."

"So if you're cool with it, why not just..." Emily doesn't finish her sentence, but the way she flickers her eyes at both Rachel and the door seems to do it for her.

There's a final pause, but after another few seconds of Rachel looking over their bodies, and the two returning in kind, Rachel seemed to have made her decision.

And with that, Rachel began to unbuckle her pants...

----

The three didn't wait until they were in the shower until they were all over each other.

Rachel was all but passed back and forth between the two, kissing them quickly but passionately, as Rachel fumbled her way out of her pants, which she placed on the sink's counter.

For the next few minutes, Rachel was sandwhiched between these two girl, with the shower on it's full blast. Their hands and mouths all over her, and Rachel would return in kind. As their bodies rubbed against eachother, Rachel nary had a care that her fangs were out.

It's been way, way too long since she felt anything like this. Rachel did consider herself a sexual creature by nature, so she felt more at home here than she has in the realm of fight clubs or drug deals.

This. This was her element.

It's been such a long, long time. She needed this.

“God!” Sam's voice was high and shrill, as Rachel takes one of her tits into her mouth, her teeth teasing her “That feels so good, Rache- Vivian!”

That Freudian slip caught Rachel off guard, but what really had her attention was her phone going off.

Pulling off Sam's boob with a frustrated whine, Rachel steps away from the girls and out of the shower. She opens her phone which she put on the sink. It's an Apple "User" message.

The usual telemarketing spam. Not worth distracting her over.

Rachel turns back to the two girls and says, "Now, where were we-AH!"

Emily impatiently pulls Rachel back into their previous embrace, her hands working between Rachel's legs, while Sam leans in to lick Rachel's ear

"How long has it been ?" Sam says huskily.

Rachel gives a toothy grin "Too long."

"We'll have to fix that."

Sam stops kissing, and gets down on her knees. Once again, it was two girls working her at once.

"AH! Jesus hot sauce Christmas cake!" Rachel screams out, one hand holding Sam by the shoulder, the other in her blonde hair.

“Yeah, how's that feeling, beautiful ?” Emily whispers in Rachel's ear "You know, Sam and I have been thinking of expanding our friend group in a while. Especially after our time in Arcadia Bay."

Rachel could barely process Emily's voice; her mind was being fogged up by the shower steam; her senses were focused on the pleasure these two women were giving her.

“Mmm, d-don't stop! Oh my...ughh.” Rachel tries to say, before a strangled moan ripples out of her throat.

“That’s it, keep it up babe.” Emily says, kissing Rachel's cheek and licking a line down her neck and shoulder.

Rachel shudders. She can feel it coming already; an orgasm that was several months in the making...

And then the fog cleared when her phone went off again, snapping Rachel out of her bliss.

And with that, little blank spots in her memory started to fill...

The light suddenly faded from her eyes.

"W-wait!" Rachel says, just managing to push herself off of Emily, and push Sam off of her. The two girls look at her with confused and concerned expressions "I have to take this. Just gimme a minute..."

Rachel checks her phone again, and unlike before where it was an Apple "User" text...it was from Steph Gringrich.

And all at once, so many memories filled Rachel's head. Where there was once a blank space or a fog in her memory, there was Steph.

Steph cuddled on a couch with Rachel, watching a movie, as they'd do every Friday.

Steph and Rachel taking a trip to a record store; Steph would remark that if she didn't pursue a stage career, she could totally see herself being a DJ.

Steph and Rachel having their first Christmas as a couple; Rachel bought Steph a PS4 on account of Steph wanting to start a gaming channel; Steph bought Rachel a car.

Steph and Rachel taking a trip to Toronto (which was the second coldest week in Rachel's life, she doesn't care what anyone says). They were going to this expo, meeting the cast of a show Steph was trying to get her into.

And finally, Steph and Rachel planning a trip to Arcadia Bay county for the forthcoming memorial and anniversary of what happened there.

And with these memories, a sudden pang of guilt filled Rachel's chest.

Finally answering Steph, Rachel tries to play herself off as cool.

"H-hey sweetie!" Rachel says, sounding a little off than when she usually greets Steph.

Sam and Emily's eyes widen, and they look at eachother with guilty expressions.

"Hey Rach! Back from the gym!" Steph says "I'm not interrupting nothing am I ?"

"Uh," Rachel looks at the other two, who just stepped out of the shower, turning it off and toweling themselves off "Not really. No. We're just wrapping up the shoot."

"Oh, that's great!" Steph remarks, apparently not sensing something is off "Want me to come down ? I've been meaning to show you this treadmill I've been thinking about ordering, and-"

"Steph!" Rachel raises her voice a little, silencing her girlfriend.

She can't believe what just happened. What she just did.

Steph knows Rachel's dirtier secrets, true. She even knows about the affairs Rachel had behind Chloe's back.

But not many people get a second chance after something like that; and she promised - promised - Steph she wasn't gonna hurt her the way she hurt Chloe.

And thus, she's gonna have to tell her the truth.

But it won't be over the phone.

"Rachel, what's wrong ?" Steph asks "You sound upset."

"No, I'm fine." Rachel says insistently, before seething at her white lie "No. That's a lie."

Rachel wipes her eyes before continuing.

"I- I fucked up, Steph." Rachel says with a shaky sigh.

"Rachel, what did you do ?" Steph says with a nervous edge in her voice.

"It's not something I can tell you over the phone." Rachel says, yet again wiping her eyes "I'll be there shortly, okay ?"

"...Alright, Rachel." Steph says, sounding uncertain "It's not...bad bad, is it ?"

"I don't know." Rachel closes her eyes taking a deep breath "I'm sorry."

Rachel hangs up the phone, putting a hand on her forehead, seething and growling.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

This was supposed to be different. She was supposed to change for Steph, be for her what she wasn't/isn't too Chloe.

God, how is Steph gonna take this ? And after Cathy, no less ?

Hell, how is she gonna explain this to Steph.

"Aw gee, I'm sorry, honey. It's just there are random periods in our relationship were you disappear from my life and memory; I just fucked two girls because I was in such a period."

Rachel turns around to see Sam and Emily step out of the shower.

"Is something wrong ?" Sam asks, before shaking her head "Actually I already know the answer."

"You didn't tell us you had someone else." Emily says, taking a towel off the rack, and handing another to Sam's.

"It's- it's complicated, okay ?" Rachel says, already hoisting her pants back up. She doesn't bother toweling off.

Without even noticing it, Rachel's eyes darken and her fangs became a little more visible as she glared at them. She doesn't realize this until Sam and Emily flinch back a little.

"I'm...sorry." Rachel says as she fastens her belt "I shouldn't have done this."

Sam and Emily glance at each other, wondering if they should say anything, but quickly decide it won't do any good.

Rachel makes her way back to the bedroom set, picking up her bra and shirt from where she dropped them, hastily putting them back on as she sped walked towards the door.

Once she was in the car, Rachel didn't immediately drive off. Instead she took a few moments to sulk over things, laying her face on the top of the steering wheel, and resting her forehead in both her hands.

How could she be so stupid ?

----

When Rachel got home, she was in her car for about eight minutes, before mustering up the courage to go inside.

When she finally enters her house, she sees Steph, sitting on their couch, her bare feet on the coffee table, as she reads a magazine; something about gym equipment. She had A Walk to Remember playing, for background noise when she looked up at Rachel.

"Is everything okay ? Steph asks as she pauses the movie. As soon as she does so, she sets the magazine aside, before getting up from the couch "Actually, that's a stupid question; you sounded pretty broken up on the phone."

Steph makes her way to Rachel, putting both hands on both Rachel's shoulders.

"So tell me, what is wrong ?"

Rachel tried her hardest to keep herself calm, collected and reserved. But there was something about that understanding tone of voice Steph had, that empathetic and hopeful look in her eyes, and the uncertain smile that made Rachel's walls break.

Rachel found herself hugging Steph close to her, really letting things out as she quietly cried, trying her darndest not to be heard.

Oblivious to how Rachel wronged her not an hour ago, Steph gives her a simple hug, brushing a hand through Rachel's hair, and rubbing her back gingerly with the other. 

"It's okay, baby. It's okay." Steph says reassuringly "You know you can tell me anything."

Anything. That's easier said than done.

"It's not okay." Rachel says weakly, barely audible "I can't. I can't..."

Rachel thinks back to the last time she cried like this. How she broke down and let herself be shown at her most vulnerable. 

For most of her and Steph's relationship, Rachel had to be the strong one. She was the one who saved Steph's life; she got her out of a toxic and abusive relationship; she was the one helping her through her strained relationship with her father, and thus, Rachel couldn't let herself be vulnerable around her.

The times Rachel ugly cried before that was in her first couple months in LA; when she was confined to this safe house, her body was still repairing itself from several months of decay, still processing the fact she was a vampire. Rachel would often have nightmares about the Dark Room, and her death, and waking from these nightmares was no comfort, especially with that ghoulish monster she'd see in the mirror. So for the first few months, it gave Rachel all the space she needed to be vulnerable, and cry her eyes out.

And before that...the day she spent with Mary.

In any case, this was the most "weakness" Rachel let herself show to another person in over two years.

"I can't." Rachel says quietly, "I don't deserve you...and you don't deserve me."

With that, Steph released her hug with an uncertain look on her face.

"Rachel, what happened ?"

"I..." Rachel sniffs, barely able to look Steph in the eye "I did something very wrong."

Steph's pupils eyes widen as she begins to think the worse.

"You killed someone, didn't you ?"

"Worse."

Steph looks puzzled, as Rachel takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes.

"So...I was doing a shoot today; a pair of girlfriends. Some body positivity thing, and we were shooting in the nude." Rachel says, as Steph just looks at her, trying to read Rachel's expression "And during the shoot, I took off my shirt to make them feel a little more at ease, and we got to talking and..."

Steph begins to realize what Rachel was trying to say, so when she trails off, she simply asks.

"Did you do...it ?"

Rachel doesn't say anything, but that guilty expression she has on her face as she looks away answers Steph's question for her.
"I see." Steph sighs and nods, before crossing her arms "And, uh, who are they ?"

"Samantha Giddings and Emily Davis." Rachel says.

"I see. I see." Steph nods again "And how far did you three take it ?"

Rachel rubs her arm with an apologetic look on her face.

"It wasn't too completion." Rachel says "We kissed, we touched, but..."

"Did you...lick each other...down there ?" Steph asks, flickering her eyes downward.

Rachel exhales before saying.

"Sam started, but I stopped her...when you called."

Steph inhales deeply, looking away from Rachel. For some reason it was scarier than it would be if Steph was openly angry and shouting.

"So, um...you have an excuse ?" Steph asks, wiping one of her eyes.

Rachel opens her mouth, she was about to tell Steph everything; about the fogs in her mind; how every so often, there were points where Steph would disappear from her life and current memory, and every time Steph would pop back up, it was like she was waking up from a dream or something.

Instead, Rachel closes her mouth.

"I see." Steph sighs again, crossing her arms "I thought things would be different."

"I know..." Rachel nods.

"I thought you would be different." Steph says, her eyes watering and her voice starting to break. She turns away from Rachel, trying not to let Rachel see. The last thing she needs to do is make things more complicated than they already are "I knew about your past flings...I was even willing to overlook what you did to Chloe, because I thought that you being a vampire would make things different."

Rachel sadly nods, putting both hands in her pants pockets.

"I know."

"I just don't understand." Steph says, this time sounding genuinely on the verge of crying "Not everyone gets a second chance like this-" 

Steph couldn't control the sob that slipped out of her mouth.

"I was used to this, you know." Steph says weakly "With Cathy, I mean. The past couple years, she'd come home late - sometimes in the morning. She'd always apologize, make excuses, about seeing another girl or another guy. For a while, I thought I was desensitized."

At this point, Steph couldn't stop weeping even if she tried. This was too much to take in all at once. It was like swallowing a big lump in your throat that just won't go down.

"I- I mean I know I'm not Chloe-" Steph says.

"What ?" Rachel asks, her voice breaking a little itself "What's Chloe got to do with this ?"

"Really ?" Steph says, wiping one of her eyes "You think we can keep dancing around this forever ?"

Steph turns around, her eyes red from the tears. She tries to look angry, but only manages to look more miserable and pitiable.

"I know you're trying to fill a void with me; I get it. You have a lot of regrets and need closure and all that." Steph sniffles and wipes her eyes "I miss her too, you know. I loved her; it might not be the same as how she loved you; I like to think that despite everything, you loved her too; more than me in fact."

"Steph I-"

"But this feels like you're just..." Steph groans and sighs in a fit of frustration "Doing me, like you did her."

"Steph, I'm trying-" Rachel says insistently.

"Do or do not, there is no try." Steph rubs her arm "Bottom line is, after Cathy, I think I need a little more than the same."

"I..." Rachel hesitates "I agree."

"I just can't keep this up, you know ?" Steph says "I have to put myself first sometimes, you know."

"I know." Rachel sighs and wipes her eyes "So what now ?"

"I don't know." Steph shakes her head, before taking a few deep breaths "I think we need some space."

Rachel nods sadly.

"I see. For how long ?"

"I don't know." Steph begins to pace "Days. Weeks. As long as we need..."

"Of course." Rachel says quietly, wiping one of her eyes.

"I should...I should go. It's your house-" Steph starts to walk off, but Rachel catches her by the arm.

"No!" Rachel says insistently, a little taken aback by how high her tone was, before speaking more gently "No. You can't afford to live alone on your salary - I can send you half my pay."

Steph cynically chuckles despite herself. It was almost enough to make her forget she was sobbing just minutes ago "Alimony ? Look at us; acting like an old divorced couple already."

Rachel tearfully chuckles herself.

"Counselling off the table then ?"

Steph calms considerably, but she still has that sad look in her eyes as she tries to muster a calm smile.

"I don't know." Steph says "I need to think."

Rachel scratches the back of her neck. She shouldn't push her luck.

"I can get an apartment downtown." Rachel says "You take what time you need, and if there's any changes, you have my number."

"Right, right." Steph says, again wiping her eyes "I'll call you if - if anything changes."

The two stare at each other for a quiet moment, briefly lean in, but stop just inches from each other.

They don't need to make things more complicated than it actually is.

With that, Rachel quietly makes her way out the door.

Even while in the car, Rachel didn't pull out of the driveway. While Steph was crying her eyes out in their bedroom, Rachel ugly cried at the steering wheel for several minutes before finally pulling off.

----

That evening, Elizabeth "Elisa" Ashbury would answer a knock on her penthouse door. She knew from the scent of blood in the air who it was.

"Miss Amber." She'd greet, looking up and down Rachel's features to see how upset she looks "It's come to my attention Jonathan reached out to you. But I assume this isn't a business visit ?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know." Rachel groans, pinching the bridge of her nose "Something happened today, and I have to leave home for the time being."

She ushers Rachel to follow her inside, leading Rachel to their dining room table.

"I see." Ashbury replies "And I assume you are looking for a place to rest ? Well, I'm sure I can find you-" 

"No, it's not that." Rachel shakes her head "I can rent a suite downtown for a while, but this is about Steph."

"Oh ?" Ashbury asks "And what troubles you regarding Miss Gingrich ?"

"I did something very bad today. Had to leave our place for the time being, and wanted to make sure she's okay."

Asbury looks over Rachel with an increasingly concerned expression.

"You didn't murder an innocent, did you ?"

"Worse." Rachel interrupts, "I cheated on my girlfriend."

"What ?" Ashbury says in a flat tone of voice.

"I know, it was stupid of me; I promised I'd treat her right; better than Chloe." Rachel says "But you know how she always seems to disappear and such ?"

Ashbury nods, partially in understanding, but a little in concern.

"Today was one of those days." Rachel explains "Was doing a shoot with these two girls, and things kind of got...unprofessional. Bottom line, I'm giving Steph some space for now."

"But ?"

"You're the head of the new Escalon ? You got eyes around the city right ?"

Ashbury crosses her arms "What are you inferring ?"

"Well, I won't be there to keep an eye on her; how do I know Mordred and his boys won't pull anything in my absence ?" Rachel asks.

"Are you asking me to use my position to keep an eye on your paramour ?"

"I wouldn't have done it if there wasn't anyone else I can trust- and I know it's reckless and entitled of me to ask such a favor, but she is a person of interest, right ? I mean, you and Reid are looking into her case, and she's already in too deep-"

Ashbury briefly puts a finger on Rachel's lips to shush her.

"You need not to ask; I can assure her protection with a couple of phone calls." Asbury says reassuringly "There is the matter of her disappearances to worry about."

"You can say they just need to keep an eye on my house. Make sure things aren't compromised." Rachel explains plainly.

"Perhaps." Ashbury shrugs "But I assume there's something else on your mind ?"

"Is Dr. Reid here ?"

"Jonathan got word of Mother's Children activity in Seattle about an hour ago. I don't think it would be wise to interrupt his investigation, especially when he is to keep a low profile." Ashbury explains.

"Okay, but you know things he knows right ?"

"I should." Asbury nods "We are partners in a number of ways, Miss Amber. At times, we are practically eachother's other half."

"This morning he told me about agents in the Guard, told me to look out for anything suspicious." Rachel explains "Today, my models seem to know more than they are letting on; they know about Arcadia Bay, and have been following the case and story. Hell, they know some of the students in Jefferson's class."

Ashbury's face takes a cautious expression.

"That is rather concerning."

"The plot thickens." Rachel says "They are two of the survivors of that Mount Washington case months back."

Asbury pauses to recall for a moment, before familiarity dawns on her face.

"Ah yes, Fiddler's County." Ashbury nods "But that is hardly the biggest cause for concern, is it, Miss Amber ?"

"When we were having-" Rachel hesitates "When we were...together, one of them called me Rachel. As far as I know, they're supposed to think I am Vivian Manning, but after all of that, I'm none to sure."

Asbury puts both her hands together, resting her chin as she thinks it over.

"I see. I see." Ashbury narrows her eyes as she tries to think about it "And do you know their names ? Stupid question, I know. But-"

"Samantha Giddings and Emily Davis." Rachel answers "I don't want them dead or anything, I just want to know how much they know, you know ?"

Yet again, Ashbury nods.

"Of course." Asbury says "And will that be all for the evening ?"

"I think so." Rachel says "I normally wouldn't have reached out like this, but the people I trust with something like this can only be counted in one hand."

"Say no more. Say no more." Ashbury says with a dismissive wave "I take it this means you've cut ties with Mordred and his ilk ?"
Rachel says nothing.

"Miss Amber..." Asbury says in an almost scolding tone.

"It's easier said than done." Rachel raises both hands defensively "I'm already on thin ice with the guy, and if I break it off completely, I won't be the only one he goes after."

Ashbury narrows her eyes, but calms herself with an inhale.

"Of course you realize, you can go so long with being neutral in this," Ashbury says with the slightest seethe "There will come a time when the Blood Queen stirs, and calls her children to spread her disease. When that time comes, you will have to choose if you will be part of that disease...or part of the cure."

Rachel swallows but tries to keep a confident face, leaning in to whisper.

"Well, it doesn't look like today is that day, isn't it ?" Rachel says "Besides, I haven't heard from the Queen since I was first brought back. As far as I know, she's still asleep so to speak."

"Perhaps." Ashbury shrugs "Or perhaps she is simply seeking other daughters; you were not the only girl victimized in Arcadia Bay, just the first. As I just said, there is something happening in Seattle that requires Jonathan's attention."

Rachel's eyes flicker a little upon hearing this. She heard that's where Jefferson's students are settled in; one of them, Dana, was running a vlog she sometimes checks in on. Rachel looks like she was about to get up from her seat, before Asbury speaks up.

"Your eyes say enough, Miss Amber. And I can assure you, there is cause for your concern; but the most helpful thing you can do in this, is keep your head down." Ashbury says, putting both her hands on Rachel as if to reassure her "Least Mordred take your head for himself."

That was enough to take the fight or flight out of Rachel, who simply settles back down in her seat as Ashbury gets up and circles the table, placing both hands on Rachel's shoulders.

"You did right by reaching out, Miss Amber." Ashbury says reassuringly "See, unlike Mordred, we have your best interests at heart."

Rachel says nothing, but mumbles a little in response.

"If it'll make you feel safer, I can get you to stay at one of our suites." Ashbury pats Rachel on the shoulder "We'll have eyes on Miss Gingrich. And if Seattle concerns you, you'll be on a need to know basis."

Rachel nods. Again, she says nothing.

"Will that be all ?"

Rachel nods again, this time saying "Yes. Thank you, Miss Ashbury."

"White Ash Suites." Ashbury says "Seven blocks east from here. I'll let them know you have a reservation."

Rachel nods a third time, getting up from her seat this time.

"Just let me know when you hear or learn anything." Rachel says as she makes her way to the door.

"Will do. And Rachel ?"

Rachel stops to turn around.

"Our publishing company is looking forward to your next manuscript."

----

That evening, Rachel tried as hard as she could to relax. But that was easier said than done given her state of mind.

White Ash Suites was a chain Ashbury owned, and at the surface level, there wasn't much to differentiate it from the Quality Inn. There's two other such suites in Malibu and San Fran.

Below the surface, it is protected by a security firm (also owned by Ashbury) and was a place of protection for vampires under the New Ascalon. There's a little more to the story, but the short of it is, if a vampire was looking to hide from "The Old Guard", or The Mother's Children, this was the place to go.

Going through the lobby, Rachel could see a few guests, consisting of families on vacation, rich college students looking to spend their trust funds, and a few business types looking for a place to stay for whatever conference their companies need.

Though a few eyes Rachel spots lets her know who among them are among the undead; and the looks some give her tell Rachel they know what she knows.

When she was in bed, Rachel found herself unable to catch sleep if she tried. She'd take a shower earlier, trying to wash things away. Didn't do her no good. She tried, resting in the nude, keeping a window open for some cool air.

Again, it did her no good.

So by midnight, she simply laid under the covers of her bed, watching Adult Swim, still trying to get a bit of escapism. Rachel was part way through an episode of The Venture Bros when a knock came at her door.

Cautiously getting up, Rachel puts on a bathrobe and looks through the peep hole to see none other than Mary Reid, in the getup on a business woman (though by the looks of it, this isn't the attire she'd go for in the best of times).

It figures Mary would be here; in the months since Reid and Ashbury introduced themselves to Rachel, she never saw Mary at their home. She would learn that Mary was trying to be independent, and active in Ashbury's circle, but her brother was insistent on keeping her from falling into Mordred's clutches again. So it stands to reason, they'd set her up to stay here.

"Miss Amb-" Mary stops to correct herself "Miss Manning ?"

Rachel says nothing.

"I know you're in there. I spoke to Elizabeth earlier." Mary says in a pretty serious tone "I know you probably don't want to talk but-"

"Then why'd you come here ?" Rachel answers.

"I think you're dancing around the issue." Mary says.

There is another pause before Mary begins speaking again.

"Look, what happened between us; in Portland," Mary says "I get it, but-"

Rachel opens the door with a glare.

"Is that what this is about ?" Rachel asks angrily "A one night stand ?"

Mary raises her hands defensively.

"No Rachel, it's not tha-"

"What is it ?" Rachel says, crossing her arms "Let me guess, Ashbury told you what happened, and you thought you'd have another round ? What, with me being all vulnerable ?"

Mary, a little taken aback, shakes her head "No, Rachel. It's not that."

"Well, what is it then ?" Rachel asks, crossing her arms.

Mary hesitates before saying.

"Has your blood..." Mary starts to say before taking a breath "Have you heard her voice again ?"

Rachel narrows her eyes, before realizing. The Red Queen.

"Not since I first awoke." Rachel says, still trying to be cautious "Is this what it's about ? Your brother sent you to do a little checkup ?"

Mary defensively shakes her head, before raising both hands in a reassuring manner.

"Jonathan doesn't want this going out-"

"But ?"

"You'll recall, you're not the only one in Arcadia Bay who the Queen has in her sights. You aren't even the first girl she had in mind."

Rachel's expression softens.

"Victoria Chase, Maxine Caulfield, Kate Marsh," Mary says "The Mother's Children are in Seattle you know; Mordred had his eyes on the city for a while. And it so happens that quite a few Mark Jefferson's former students are in Cornish Commons."

Rachel pauses, thinking for a few seconds, before shaking her head.

"Well, it's not like you fucked them, so it's not like they're-" Rachel tries to close the door but Mary holds out her hand, stopping it from closing.

"But they are." Mary says "What you and I did has little to do with why the Queen marked you."

Rachel steps back with an apprehensive expression on her face. Mary inhales, but takes this as her cue to continue.

"In case you need reminding, you were taken because you died first; you were taken because you were the only one in Arcadia Bay who couldn't be saved. Whatever game the Queen and Wyllt have been playing in Arcadia Bay, you were her consolation prize."

Rachel was at a loss for words, she steps back a little, placing two fingers on one of her temples as she looks to the side.

"But- but," Rachel tries to muster "You and I-"

"What you and I did was more of a coincidence than anything." Mary says honestly "I heard the Queen calling me to Portland; I heard her calling me to Arcadia Bay, but in the end, I never went."

As Mary says this, she leans down to Rachel, putting her hands on her shoulders.

"I may have been euphemistic, I may have been creative with my words." Mary says "But I was mostly being honest with you, Rachel. You and I ? T'was simply that."

Rachel pauses again, taking Mary's words in, before stepping out of her reach and shaking her head.

"I can't listen to this right now, okay ?" Rachel says, her voice taking a mild but angry tone "I did Steph wrong today, same as I did Chloe wrong. I did her wrong with Frank, I did her wrong with Mark. And I did her wrong with you."

Mary says nothing, just sort of looking sober, but sad underneath.

"I am going through a lot at the moment; if something comes up, your brother or Ashbury can tell me about it. But do know, I just need some space, rest, and time." Rachel says, trying to remain firm, even if all the thoughts rushing through her head at once made it difficult "So if you wish to do me a solid, Miss Reid, could you give me that ?"

Mary sighs before nodding.

"As you wish, Miss Amber. But it'd do you good to remember that hiding from the monsters at your door, will only prompt them to break it down." Mary turns to take her leave, closing the door behind her "Take my advice; you can hide, but it's better to prepare as I have. Have a good evening, Miss Amber."

With the door closed, Rachel sighs, making her way back to bed. She shrugs off her bathrobe, cuddling down into her bedsheets, as she tries to get into watching Adult Swim.

----

By midnight, she felt herself on the verge of sleep, the TV having since become background noise. However her thoughts were filled with Mary.

Rachel needed some kind of distraction - especially since memories of that day got her hand moving between her legs like some kind of subconscious reaction.

"Fucking nymphomaniac." Rachel would grit her teeth, taking herself by the wrist to stop from touching herself as she thought back to that night.

As stated, a little distraction would help keep her mind and heart at ease.

Like an answer from above, Rachel hears her phone go off on the nightstand. Tiredly checking it, she sees it's a message...from Steph.

"Good night."

Smiling a little, Rachel types a simple response.

"Good night."

Setting her phone aside, Rachel buries her face into her pillow, letting the rest and relaxation finally take over.

"Well, that helped...a little." Rachel would think as she finally was lulled into the realm of sleep...

Even if her head was still full of thoughts of Mary.

----

March 9th 2013, Portland Oregon

On Mary and Rachel's little day one the town, their first stop (besides a quick lunch at Mickey D's) was Mary's condo, the two feeling they needed a change of clothes.

Rachel got into a more casual winter outfit, nothing that would look too flashy or make her stand out; she once again wore a white beret and sunglasses to try to obscure her age. She'd change in the bathroom, and would go down the hall to spot Mary having left her bedroom door open, affixing a bra in front of the mirror as she redresses.

Mary would spot Rachel while looking at her reflection, and playfully scoff and roll her eyes.

"Such a boy, aren't you Miss Amber ?"

Rachel blushes a little at Mary's remark, before making her way to the front door. Mary would soon join Rachel, also dressed in a (slightly) less stylish winter outfit.

Their first stop was the Portland Art Museum, spending the better part of the afternoon going over their respective interests in art.

Rachel would bring up how her family went there when she was nine, which in turn became a conversation about this trip to Canada they went on when she was fourteen; how they went to the Anne of Green Gables house in Prince Edward Island, and the Titanic cemetery and museum in Halifax.

Titanic was a pretty big deal in her family, considering James' grandfather was the sole survivor of his family aboard the sinking. They used to watch the '96 movie all the time on the anniversary, and Rachel used to always crack a joke about her (step) mother's name being Rose.

Used to being the keyword.

As for Mary, she would go on about how art wasn't something she usually bonded with her brother over. It was more of her sister-in-law's speed. Her brother Johnny was more work and duty focused, though he had a few eccentricities that popped up; mainly his affinity for comics.

"At first, I never really got it myself." Mary shakes her head bringing it up "I suppose after all those years with his nose in medical books got to him ?"

"I'm guessing he was one of those kids who never really got to be a kid." Rachel would remark.

"Our father passed when I was twelve; did a number on me in much the same way it did your friend." Mary nods as she leads Rachel out the museum and to her car "My brother had to take responsibilities early on, what with the lot of our family being out of county. Whenever my brother wasn't school focused, he was responsibilities focused. He'd take his duties so seriously, there was little if any time for him to be himself, you know ?"