Post by fenris on Mar 31, 2006 19:29:18 GMT
The latest instalment. Any feedback - both positive and negative - will be gratefully received.
Episode #6: Anointed.
Previously on Hex: clips from Episode #2 – Leon telling Ella “We’ll just try to grab what moments we can.” Leon and Ella kissing.
Clips from Episode #3 – Jo pushing Malachi onto the sofa and then saddling him; Alex spying on them.
Clips from Episode #4 – Corvide transforming from raven to human; Corvide examining an outfit and declaring “If they don’t fit perfectly, I’ll just amend myself.”
Clip from Episode #5 – the stand off between Ella and Perie, both pointing guns at each other.
Clip from Episode #3 – the blonde girl in bleached denim taking photos of Ella and Thelma.
On-screen caption: 1808.
The interior of a small church. There’s a frantic banging on the wooden double doors that serve as the main entrance. A vicar emerges from a small room to the left of the altar and moves hurriedly down the aisle between the pews, towards the doors. He unlocks them, using a large wrought iron key, and cautiously pulls one of the doors open. We see over his shoulder: it’s night outside, and there’s a heavy storm taking place, with wind and rain lashing about. A teenage girl is leaning on the door. Her clothes are soaked, and she looks exhausted and frightened.
“Rose?” Say the vicar, recognising her.
“Reverend, please!” The girl pleads.
He opens the door wider and helps her in. As she staggers into the church, we see that she’s heavily pregnant – almost full term. The vicar stares at her bulge, confused.
“Rose? I don’t – I saw you only a week ago, and –” He stutters.
The girl urgently clings to his arm.
“Protect me, Reverend. Please!” She begs. “They want to murder me and my baby!”
The vicar looks out through the still open door. We see a country lane outside, flanked by several trees. Branches are being battered by the wind and leaves are swirling about. Lightning flashes, and we see two figures slowly approaching along the lane on horseback. They’re both wearing cloaks with the hoods raised. The vicar helps Rose lean on the nearest wall, then he hurriedly closes the door and turns the key in the heavy lock.
“My baby’s coming!” The girl wails, clutching her bulge with one hand, as – with the vicar’s aid – she manages to walk towards the pew furthest from the altar. “It hurts, Reverend!”
He helps her sit on the pew, then straightens, clearly still bewildered.
“Rose, I saw you a week ago, in the village, and you weren’t with child then. How –” He asks.
“A miracle, Reverend.” Blurts out the girl, managing a smile despite her pain. “I met a man, a stranger. I laid down with him.” She reaches out and grabs the vicar’s arm. “I know it was wrong, Reverend, but he told me my child would be special. And it’s true!”
Suddenly she screams, throwing her head back.
“Be strong, Rose.” The vicar says, trying to calm her. “I need to fetch the doctor.”
“No, Reverend! Please don’t leave me!” The girl cries, still clutching his arm.
The camera cuts to the key in the church door lock. As we watch, the key starts to turn, seemingly of it’s own accord. We cut back to Rose, as she screams again.
“My baby’s coming now! I want to push!” She wails – then, though all the pain, she spots something behind the vicar. “Reverend!”
Seeing that her gaze is fixed on something behind his shoulder, the vicar turns. Standing inside the church, in front of the entrance with it’s double doors closed behind them, are the two cloaked figures, their hoods still raised, obscuring their faces. No longer on horseback, we can see that one is quite tall, the other petite in comparison.
Removing Rose’s hand from his arm, the vicar steps protectively in front of her, placing himself between her and the two intruders.
“You’re not welcome here.” He declares firmly. “This is a house of God!”
“I don’t think He will mind, Reverend.” The taller of the two figures remarks in a strong but surprisingly soft voice, then it steps forward, raises both hands to it’s hood and pulls it back. The vicar gazes in amazement as the intruder’s face is revealed: it’s a young woman with light brown hair, only a few years older than Rose. “For it is His will that we do tonight.” The cloaked woman concludes.
With a cry of pain and exertion, Rose desperately pushes herself to her feet and starts to stagger up the aisle, trying to get away, clutching her bulge with one hand and grabbing the top of each pew for support with the other, sobbing and gasping as she goes. The petite hooded figure starts to walk briskly towards the aisle. The vicar moves to block it’s path, whereupon the intruder responses with an incredibly swift, calculated series of precise kicks and punches to the man’s legs, knees and arms. The vicar’s legs give way under him and he falls to his knees, his arms limp at his sides. Facing the hooded figure, he twists his body as best he can, glancing back at Rose and yelling to her;
“Run Rose! Get away from here!”
The petite hooded intruder makes a gesture, and a long, elegant knive appears in it’s hand. Barely has the Reverend had time to register it’s presence, than the figure has thrown it – with all the poise and technique of an expert – at the retreating Rose.
“No!” Yells the vicar.
The knive buries itself in Rose’s back, neatly placed between her shoulder blades. She gives an agonised cry, then stumbles and falls just a few feet short of the altar. Pushing herself up onto her hands, she manages to slowly, agonisingly, drag herself forward along the floor, sobbing and trembling as she does so. Reaching the altar, she struggles into a sitting position, facing the cloaked figures down the length of the aisle, one shoulder resting against the altar behind her. Both hands clutching her bulge, she glares at the two intruders in a mixture of pain, desperation, and defiance.
“You’re not…hurting…my baby.” She declares, gasping between words.
The tall woman with the light brown hair silently responds by parting her cloak and producing a crossbow from beneath it’s folds. Without pause or hesitation, she raises the weapon, aims and fires. The bolt streaks down the length of the aisle as a blur, and strikes Rose in the centre of her bulge, embedded over halfway up it’s shaft.
“Rose!” Yells the vicar, trying to get to his feet.
The petite hooded figure reaches out, places a firm, restraining hand on his shoulder, and pushes him back onto his knees. By the altar, Rose stares in horror and realisation at the shaft emerging from her stomach, her tear-streaked face contorted in agony. A quiet wail emerges from her, gradually transforming into a fully-lunged scream as she throws her head back and shrieks her torment to the heavens. A rapidly expanding pool of blood starts to flow across the floor in front of the altar, emerging from under Rose’s skirt. Calmly and dispassionately, the petite intruder reaches up with their free hand and pulls back their hood, revealing the face underneath. It’s Ella.
“God’s will be done.” She declares.
Opening titles.
On-screen caption: The Present.
The interior of a large church in one of the more expensive and exclusive London suburbs. A wedding ceremony about to start, and the church is packed. We see Leon in a chocolate brown suit and tie with a blue shirt, and Ella in an elaborate – but not overly grand – dark red dress, both standing in the pews, a couple of rows from the back. Thelma is standing at the back of the church, leaning against the stone wall, looking bored and eating nachos straight from the bag. The bridal theme starts, and the bridemaids walk down the aisle, followed by the bride and her father. At the altar, the bride and groom turn and face each other, and we see that the groom is Troy. The bride lifts her veil, revealing herself to be Gemma.
Cut to later in the ceremony. The vicar is asking that if anyone knows of any reason why this man and this woman cannot be joined in holy matrimony, they should speak now, or forever hold their peace. The camera cuts to Leon and Ella. We hear Thelma loudly shout: “Yeah! She’s a bitch!” Smiles frozen, Leon and Ella both slowly turn round and look pointedly at Thelma, who silently mouths ‘What?’ and shrugs.
Cut to the bedroom of Malachi’s penthouse apartment, in the London headquarters of the New Church. Malachi is dressed in a black silk suit and shirt, and is standing in front of a full length mirror, adjusting his tie. Behind him , one of the Malachiettes – wearing just a red bra and matching thong – folds and then places a final few items of clothing in a suitcase that’s been placed on the huge bed.
“Thank you, my dear.” Declares Malachi, without turning round. “Why don’t you join the others in the shower, and amuse yourselves for a while.”
The girl leaves wordlessly, passing Jo as the ex-teacher enters the room, holding a slim folder in one hand. Jo spots the suitcase;
“You’ve got them packing your things now?” She comments incredulously.
“They like pleasing me.” Shrugs Malachi smugly, still admiring himself. “Besides, why have a dog and then bark yourself?”
“Your helicopter will be here in five minutes.” Says Jo, all business. “Anything I should know about before you leave? Any overdosed naked teenagers lying dead in the bath?”
“It was just the one time!” Sighs Malachi in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Will you please let it drop?”
“Seriously though, anything I need to be aware of, while you’re away?” Says Jo.
Malachi thinks for a moment.
“The workmen are coming tomorrow to install the lighting sculpture in the overhang.” He reports.
“That ghastly thing that you commissioned, which cost a fortune, weights half-a-ton, and which we had to get the roof strengthened for?” Remarks Jo.
“That’s the one.” Grins Malachi.
“Anything else?” Enquires Jo. “Has Roxanne been bothering you much?”
“Actually, she’s been pretty quiet lately.” Muses Malachi. “Maybe it’s finally sunk in that I don’t want my soul to be saved. She’s probably off moping in a corner somewhere.”
The sound of an approaching helicopter can be faintly heard.
“Now, remember to be on your best behaviour.” Cautions Jo. “The Vatican is getting nervous about the influence that the New Church possesses. Your meeting with their envoy is an exercise in smoothing their ruffled feathers and building bridges.”
“I know, Jo. You briefed me about all this yesterday, remember?” Mutters Malachi.
“I remember. I was just making sure you did.” Replies Jo. “I’m aware you had a farewell party with your little harem last night. No doubt a large quantity of mind-altering substances were involved.”
Malachi turns to Jo and flashes what he thinks is a winning smile.
“You know too well, Mommy dearest. But no worries,” He taps his forehead. “everything’s in full working order. Speaking of which,” he murmurs stepping closer to her, “how about another parent-child bonding session when I get back? I still don’t think I’ve fully recovered from the last one.”
Smiling slyly, Jo walks up to him and cups one side of his face with her free hand.
“Behave yourself during this trip, and I’ll consider it.” She says. “Someone will be accompanying you.”
“Who?” He asks.
Jo opens the folder she’s carrying, produces a large photo and hands it to Malachi. It’s of a stunningly beautiful girl in her early twenties, with full lips and light brown hair.
“Jo, you’re spoiling me.” Malachi grins.
“Hands off, Malachi. She’s strictly out of bounds.” Declares Jo, whipping the photo out of his grasp. “Her name’s Chloe, and until eight months ago she was one of the most requested and highly paid girls on the books of the most exclusive escort agency in Paris. Then I managed to tempt her away onto our payroll. She’s proved very useful in our dealings with politicians and bureaucrats who expect more than just a hefty bribe. So for once in your life, keep your brain out of your pants. She’s there purely to keep the envoy entertained.”
“But he’s a man of the cloth.” Comments Malachi.
“So? He’s still a man.” Counters Jo, then she turns and leaves.
Malachi considers this, then accepts it with a nod.
The camera cuts to the corridor outside Malachi’s penthouse. We see Jo exit from his apartment and walk down the corridor. As she does, her appearance flows and changes, becoming slightly shorter, and she transforms into Corvide. As Corvide continues on her way, Alex – no longer wearing her oxygen mask, and minus the accompanying tank – emerges from behind a corner further back along the corridor, and watches the departing P.A. with cautious interest.
Cut to the reception for Troy and Gemma’s wedding, being held at a huge function room at a hotel. The happy couple are greeting all the guests. After a few seconds, it’s Leon and Ella’s turn.
“Great to see you, mate.” Declares Troy, vigorously shaking Leon’s hand.
“Congratulations.” Says Leon, pausing to kiss Gemma on the cheek.
“We got a bit worried when your invitation was returned in the mail,” continues Troy, “until Gemma had the idea of sending an e-mail direct to your website.”
“Sorry about that.” Leon apologises. “I had to move out of my old address at short notice. Didn’t get a chance to inform anyone. This is Ella.”
“I’m his ‘Plus One’.” Smiles Ella, shaking hands and exchanging kisses with both bride and groom.
Standing with her arms crossed behind Ella and Leon, Thelma looks at Troy and Gemma, unimpressed.
“I don’t know why I let you drag me here.” She mutters for Ella and Leon’s benefit. “I bet they don’t even remember me.”
Cut to later in the reception. Ella wanders over to the buffet table and stands next to Thelma, who’s polishing off the cocktail sausages.
“I’d forgotten how loaded Gemma’s parents are.” Thelma comments with her mouth full, waving a sausage on a stick around, indicating the size of the room. Another guest comes and stands on the other side of Ella (the camera angle is such that while we’re aware of the guest’s presense, we can’t see who it is) as Thelma continues: “Her father made it onto The Times’ 100 Rich List while she was at Medenham. You’d think they’d have splashed out on a sit-down meal. Not that I’m complaining though.”
She eats the sausage.
“I think they went with a buffet because the newlyweds wanted to keep things informal.” Comments the guest conversationally.
For a second, Ella and Thelma don’t pay much attention – until they both realise that the guest was responding to a remark made by Thelma. They both turn their heads and look at the person who’s joined them. It’s Jo. She’s wearing a white suit jacket with wide black trim, with a matching skirt that ends just above the knee. The outfit is completed with a wide brimmed hat. She’s not looking at either Ella or Thelma, but is scanning the contents of the buffet.
“What are you doing here?” Exclaims Thelma.
“I was invited. Which is more I suspect than be said for you.” Replies Jo, picking a few items and putting them on her plate. “Apparently I made quite an impression on Troy and Gemma when I taught them at Medenham. Gemma in particular was telling me earlier how much I’d inspired her.”
“I wonder if they would still have such a high opinion of you if they knew that you later helped turn the entire student body into incubus and succubi?” Murmurs Ella coolly.
“That was inevitable, from the moment Malachi arrived there.” Jo responds. “The only way it could have been avoided was if a certain someone had gotten their act together and killed him, as they had been ordained to do.” The ex-teacher turns and looks Ella in the eye: “Don’t blame me for the outcome of your mistakes.”
Jo’s remark hits a nerve, and Ella visibly blanches. Thelma tries to regain the moral high ground;
“So you don’t feel any guilt at all about what happened? Those students were placed under your care, and you just stood and watched as Malachi turned them into his slaves. They’re not even human anymore.” She bristles.
“I was lucky in one regard.” Concedes Jo. “There was one student of whom I was very fond. She was probably my favourite out of all the children I’ve taught. She had the relative good fortune, I suppose, to die before Malachi enroled at Medenham. So I suppose that in a way, she was spared.”
Thelma is slightly taken aback.
“You’re saying that Cassie was your favourite?” She asks.
“No, Thelma.” Says Jo, turning and looking at her. “You were.”
For once, Thelma is rendered speechless. Jo turns her attention back to the buffet, and Ella interjects;
“Aren’t you taking a risk, talking to us? I don’t think Malachi would approve of you consorting with the enemy.”
Jo smiles, as though silently enjoying a private joke.
“Malachi thinks I’m looking after things at our London headquarters.” She purrs. “And that’s all he needs to know.”
At that moment, a piercing scream erupts from the other side of the room. Ella and Thelma both immediately dart their heads around and look in it’s direction. Jo glances across rather more leisurely.
“Girls,” the ex-teacher murmurs, “I believe they’re playing our song.”
A crowd has already started to gather, with those further back trying to crane their heads and look over those in front. Ella starts trying to push her way through, but makes slow progress. She looks at Thelma, her eyes making a silent request. Thelma nods in response, then walks forward, moving through people. A split second after she’s walked through someone, we see several of these individuals either give a start, or suddenly shudder.
“I feel as though someone’s just walked over my grave,” we hear one mutter to their companion.
Thelma makes it to the front of the crowd, and sees what’s caused the commotion: Troy is lying spralled on the floor, the front of his shirt and suit awash with blood. Someone has slit his throat, and for good measure has then plunged the elegant-handled knive into his chest, all the way upto the hilt. A male guest is kneeing next to Troy, desperately trying to stem the bloodflow and locate a pulse at the same time. Thelma reaches down, and her fingers make contact with Troy’s face.
“Sorry Troy.” She murmurs. “I’m not going to pretend I liked you, but you didn’t deserve this. Especially not today.”
Thelma looks up just as Ella pushes her way to the front of the crush of onlookers. In answer to Ella’s questioning gaze, Thelma glumly shakes her head ‘no’. Voices are being raised in panic, asking what happened, and has an ambulance been called? Standing slightly to one side, a shocked bridemaid - who appears to have witnessed what occurred - is trying to cope with several people who have surrounded her and are all quizzing her simultaneously, demanding answers. She manages to blurt out that a girl and three men burst into the room, headed straight for Troy and Gemma, the girl attacked Troy, who collapsed, the men grabbed Gemma and a guest and dragged them away. Upon over-hearing of a guest being abducted, Ella starts looking about, searching for Leon. She can’t see him amongst the crush of faces. She pushes her way over to the bridemaid. In the background we hear a male voice appeal for calm, ask if a doctor is present, and request that people step back and make room. Ella reaches the bridesmaid, who’s clearly still in shock.
“You said that a guest was taken? Do you know who it was? What did he look like?” She asks the girl.
The bridesmaid’s eyes are darting about, looking over the tops of everyones’ heads and trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone, as though she’s expecting the walls to suddenly close in.
“I don’t know.” She manages to say. “I think – brown suit. He had a brown suit.”
Realisation sparks in Ella’s eyes. “Thank you.” She says to the girl, then she turns and looks at Thelma, who can tell with one glance at Ella’s expression what has happened. Jo appears at Ella’s elbow.
“Not quite how I imagined the marriage would end.” The ex-teacher comments, gazing at where the crowd have backed away slightly, allowing more room around the slain groom.
Ella responds by turning and grabbing Jo by the throat with one hand.
“Where have you taken them?” She hisses, glaring at the older woman.
Thelma glances round, but in all the alarm and confusion, nobody has noticed Ella menacing Jo. Looking totally unconcerned, Jo raises her hand, places it around Ella’s restraining forearm, and squeezes slightly. Ella’s face creases in pain and surprise and she loses her grip on Jo’s neck – the ex-teacher is a lot stronger than she looks. Jo releases Ella’s arm, and the Anointed One yanks it away and starts rubbing it with her other hand while looking at Jo with new-found caution. A figure enters the room and walks over to Jo’s side, ignoring the commotion surrounding Troy. It’s Perie. She stands protectively by Jo, facing Ella and Thelma and granting them her usual impenetrable smile.
“Not guilty this time, Ella.” Declares Jo, still looking completely unflappable. “The New Church has no reason to hurt Leon. Just the opposite in fact. If anything happens to him, fingers would point and questions asked. I’m afraid you’ll have to look for his abductor elsewhere.”
End of Part One.
Episode #6: Anointed.
Previously on Hex: clips from Episode #2 – Leon telling Ella “We’ll just try to grab what moments we can.” Leon and Ella kissing.
Clips from Episode #3 – Jo pushing Malachi onto the sofa and then saddling him; Alex spying on them.
Clips from Episode #4 – Corvide transforming from raven to human; Corvide examining an outfit and declaring “If they don’t fit perfectly, I’ll just amend myself.”
Clip from Episode #5 – the stand off between Ella and Perie, both pointing guns at each other.
Clip from Episode #3 – the blonde girl in bleached denim taking photos of Ella and Thelma.
On-screen caption: 1808.
The interior of a small church. There’s a frantic banging on the wooden double doors that serve as the main entrance. A vicar emerges from a small room to the left of the altar and moves hurriedly down the aisle between the pews, towards the doors. He unlocks them, using a large wrought iron key, and cautiously pulls one of the doors open. We see over his shoulder: it’s night outside, and there’s a heavy storm taking place, with wind and rain lashing about. A teenage girl is leaning on the door. Her clothes are soaked, and she looks exhausted and frightened.
“Rose?” Say the vicar, recognising her.
“Reverend, please!” The girl pleads.
He opens the door wider and helps her in. As she staggers into the church, we see that she’s heavily pregnant – almost full term. The vicar stares at her bulge, confused.
“Rose? I don’t – I saw you only a week ago, and –” He stutters.
The girl urgently clings to his arm.
“Protect me, Reverend. Please!” She begs. “They want to murder me and my baby!”
The vicar looks out through the still open door. We see a country lane outside, flanked by several trees. Branches are being battered by the wind and leaves are swirling about. Lightning flashes, and we see two figures slowly approaching along the lane on horseback. They’re both wearing cloaks with the hoods raised. The vicar helps Rose lean on the nearest wall, then he hurriedly closes the door and turns the key in the heavy lock.
“My baby’s coming!” The girl wails, clutching her bulge with one hand, as – with the vicar’s aid – she manages to walk towards the pew furthest from the altar. “It hurts, Reverend!”
He helps her sit on the pew, then straightens, clearly still bewildered.
“Rose, I saw you a week ago, in the village, and you weren’t with child then. How –” He asks.
“A miracle, Reverend.” Blurts out the girl, managing a smile despite her pain. “I met a man, a stranger. I laid down with him.” She reaches out and grabs the vicar’s arm. “I know it was wrong, Reverend, but he told me my child would be special. And it’s true!”
Suddenly she screams, throwing her head back.
“Be strong, Rose.” The vicar says, trying to calm her. “I need to fetch the doctor.”
“No, Reverend! Please don’t leave me!” The girl cries, still clutching his arm.
The camera cuts to the key in the church door lock. As we watch, the key starts to turn, seemingly of it’s own accord. We cut back to Rose, as she screams again.
“My baby’s coming now! I want to push!” She wails – then, though all the pain, she spots something behind the vicar. “Reverend!”
Seeing that her gaze is fixed on something behind his shoulder, the vicar turns. Standing inside the church, in front of the entrance with it’s double doors closed behind them, are the two cloaked figures, their hoods still raised, obscuring their faces. No longer on horseback, we can see that one is quite tall, the other petite in comparison.
Removing Rose’s hand from his arm, the vicar steps protectively in front of her, placing himself between her and the two intruders.
“You’re not welcome here.” He declares firmly. “This is a house of God!”
“I don’t think He will mind, Reverend.” The taller of the two figures remarks in a strong but surprisingly soft voice, then it steps forward, raises both hands to it’s hood and pulls it back. The vicar gazes in amazement as the intruder’s face is revealed: it’s a young woman with light brown hair, only a few years older than Rose. “For it is His will that we do tonight.” The cloaked woman concludes.
With a cry of pain and exertion, Rose desperately pushes herself to her feet and starts to stagger up the aisle, trying to get away, clutching her bulge with one hand and grabbing the top of each pew for support with the other, sobbing and gasping as she goes. The petite hooded figure starts to walk briskly towards the aisle. The vicar moves to block it’s path, whereupon the intruder responses with an incredibly swift, calculated series of precise kicks and punches to the man’s legs, knees and arms. The vicar’s legs give way under him and he falls to his knees, his arms limp at his sides. Facing the hooded figure, he twists his body as best he can, glancing back at Rose and yelling to her;
“Run Rose! Get away from here!”
The petite hooded intruder makes a gesture, and a long, elegant knive appears in it’s hand. Barely has the Reverend had time to register it’s presence, than the figure has thrown it – with all the poise and technique of an expert – at the retreating Rose.
“No!” Yells the vicar.
The knive buries itself in Rose’s back, neatly placed between her shoulder blades. She gives an agonised cry, then stumbles and falls just a few feet short of the altar. Pushing herself up onto her hands, she manages to slowly, agonisingly, drag herself forward along the floor, sobbing and trembling as she does so. Reaching the altar, she struggles into a sitting position, facing the cloaked figures down the length of the aisle, one shoulder resting against the altar behind her. Both hands clutching her bulge, she glares at the two intruders in a mixture of pain, desperation, and defiance.
“You’re not…hurting…my baby.” She declares, gasping between words.
The tall woman with the light brown hair silently responds by parting her cloak and producing a crossbow from beneath it’s folds. Without pause or hesitation, she raises the weapon, aims and fires. The bolt streaks down the length of the aisle as a blur, and strikes Rose in the centre of her bulge, embedded over halfway up it’s shaft.
“Rose!” Yells the vicar, trying to get to his feet.
The petite hooded figure reaches out, places a firm, restraining hand on his shoulder, and pushes him back onto his knees. By the altar, Rose stares in horror and realisation at the shaft emerging from her stomach, her tear-streaked face contorted in agony. A quiet wail emerges from her, gradually transforming into a fully-lunged scream as she throws her head back and shrieks her torment to the heavens. A rapidly expanding pool of blood starts to flow across the floor in front of the altar, emerging from under Rose’s skirt. Calmly and dispassionately, the petite intruder reaches up with their free hand and pulls back their hood, revealing the face underneath. It’s Ella.
“God’s will be done.” She declares.
Opening titles.
On-screen caption: The Present.
The interior of a large church in one of the more expensive and exclusive London suburbs. A wedding ceremony about to start, and the church is packed. We see Leon in a chocolate brown suit and tie with a blue shirt, and Ella in an elaborate – but not overly grand – dark red dress, both standing in the pews, a couple of rows from the back. Thelma is standing at the back of the church, leaning against the stone wall, looking bored and eating nachos straight from the bag. The bridal theme starts, and the bridemaids walk down the aisle, followed by the bride and her father. At the altar, the bride and groom turn and face each other, and we see that the groom is Troy. The bride lifts her veil, revealing herself to be Gemma.
Cut to later in the ceremony. The vicar is asking that if anyone knows of any reason why this man and this woman cannot be joined in holy matrimony, they should speak now, or forever hold their peace. The camera cuts to Leon and Ella. We hear Thelma loudly shout: “Yeah! She’s a bitch!” Smiles frozen, Leon and Ella both slowly turn round and look pointedly at Thelma, who silently mouths ‘What?’ and shrugs.
Cut to the bedroom of Malachi’s penthouse apartment, in the London headquarters of the New Church. Malachi is dressed in a black silk suit and shirt, and is standing in front of a full length mirror, adjusting his tie. Behind him , one of the Malachiettes – wearing just a red bra and matching thong – folds and then places a final few items of clothing in a suitcase that’s been placed on the huge bed.
“Thank you, my dear.” Declares Malachi, without turning round. “Why don’t you join the others in the shower, and amuse yourselves for a while.”
The girl leaves wordlessly, passing Jo as the ex-teacher enters the room, holding a slim folder in one hand. Jo spots the suitcase;
“You’ve got them packing your things now?” She comments incredulously.
“They like pleasing me.” Shrugs Malachi smugly, still admiring himself. “Besides, why have a dog and then bark yourself?”
“Your helicopter will be here in five minutes.” Says Jo, all business. “Anything I should know about before you leave? Any overdosed naked teenagers lying dead in the bath?”
“It was just the one time!” Sighs Malachi in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Will you please let it drop?”
“Seriously though, anything I need to be aware of, while you’re away?” Says Jo.
Malachi thinks for a moment.
“The workmen are coming tomorrow to install the lighting sculpture in the overhang.” He reports.
“That ghastly thing that you commissioned, which cost a fortune, weights half-a-ton, and which we had to get the roof strengthened for?” Remarks Jo.
“That’s the one.” Grins Malachi.
“Anything else?” Enquires Jo. “Has Roxanne been bothering you much?”
“Actually, she’s been pretty quiet lately.” Muses Malachi. “Maybe it’s finally sunk in that I don’t want my soul to be saved. She’s probably off moping in a corner somewhere.”
The sound of an approaching helicopter can be faintly heard.
“Now, remember to be on your best behaviour.” Cautions Jo. “The Vatican is getting nervous about the influence that the New Church possesses. Your meeting with their envoy is an exercise in smoothing their ruffled feathers and building bridges.”
“I know, Jo. You briefed me about all this yesterday, remember?” Mutters Malachi.
“I remember. I was just making sure you did.” Replies Jo. “I’m aware you had a farewell party with your little harem last night. No doubt a large quantity of mind-altering substances were involved.”
Malachi turns to Jo and flashes what he thinks is a winning smile.
“You know too well, Mommy dearest. But no worries,” He taps his forehead. “everything’s in full working order. Speaking of which,” he murmurs stepping closer to her, “how about another parent-child bonding session when I get back? I still don’t think I’ve fully recovered from the last one.”
Smiling slyly, Jo walks up to him and cups one side of his face with her free hand.
“Behave yourself during this trip, and I’ll consider it.” She says. “Someone will be accompanying you.”
“Who?” He asks.
Jo opens the folder she’s carrying, produces a large photo and hands it to Malachi. It’s of a stunningly beautiful girl in her early twenties, with full lips and light brown hair.
“Jo, you’re spoiling me.” Malachi grins.
“Hands off, Malachi. She’s strictly out of bounds.” Declares Jo, whipping the photo out of his grasp. “Her name’s Chloe, and until eight months ago she was one of the most requested and highly paid girls on the books of the most exclusive escort agency in Paris. Then I managed to tempt her away onto our payroll. She’s proved very useful in our dealings with politicians and bureaucrats who expect more than just a hefty bribe. So for once in your life, keep your brain out of your pants. She’s there purely to keep the envoy entertained.”
“But he’s a man of the cloth.” Comments Malachi.
“So? He’s still a man.” Counters Jo, then she turns and leaves.
Malachi considers this, then accepts it with a nod.
The camera cuts to the corridor outside Malachi’s penthouse. We see Jo exit from his apartment and walk down the corridor. As she does, her appearance flows and changes, becoming slightly shorter, and she transforms into Corvide. As Corvide continues on her way, Alex – no longer wearing her oxygen mask, and minus the accompanying tank – emerges from behind a corner further back along the corridor, and watches the departing P.A. with cautious interest.
Cut to the reception for Troy and Gemma’s wedding, being held at a huge function room at a hotel. The happy couple are greeting all the guests. After a few seconds, it’s Leon and Ella’s turn.
“Great to see you, mate.” Declares Troy, vigorously shaking Leon’s hand.
“Congratulations.” Says Leon, pausing to kiss Gemma on the cheek.
“We got a bit worried when your invitation was returned in the mail,” continues Troy, “until Gemma had the idea of sending an e-mail direct to your website.”
“Sorry about that.” Leon apologises. “I had to move out of my old address at short notice. Didn’t get a chance to inform anyone. This is Ella.”
“I’m his ‘Plus One’.” Smiles Ella, shaking hands and exchanging kisses with both bride and groom.
Standing with her arms crossed behind Ella and Leon, Thelma looks at Troy and Gemma, unimpressed.
“I don’t know why I let you drag me here.” She mutters for Ella and Leon’s benefit. “I bet they don’t even remember me.”
Cut to later in the reception. Ella wanders over to the buffet table and stands next to Thelma, who’s polishing off the cocktail sausages.
“I’d forgotten how loaded Gemma’s parents are.” Thelma comments with her mouth full, waving a sausage on a stick around, indicating the size of the room. Another guest comes and stands on the other side of Ella (the camera angle is such that while we’re aware of the guest’s presense, we can’t see who it is) as Thelma continues: “Her father made it onto The Times’ 100 Rich List while she was at Medenham. You’d think they’d have splashed out on a sit-down meal. Not that I’m complaining though.”
She eats the sausage.
“I think they went with a buffet because the newlyweds wanted to keep things informal.” Comments the guest conversationally.
For a second, Ella and Thelma don’t pay much attention – until they both realise that the guest was responding to a remark made by Thelma. They both turn their heads and look at the person who’s joined them. It’s Jo. She’s wearing a white suit jacket with wide black trim, with a matching skirt that ends just above the knee. The outfit is completed with a wide brimmed hat. She’s not looking at either Ella or Thelma, but is scanning the contents of the buffet.
“What are you doing here?” Exclaims Thelma.
“I was invited. Which is more I suspect than be said for you.” Replies Jo, picking a few items and putting them on her plate. “Apparently I made quite an impression on Troy and Gemma when I taught them at Medenham. Gemma in particular was telling me earlier how much I’d inspired her.”
“I wonder if they would still have such a high opinion of you if they knew that you later helped turn the entire student body into incubus and succubi?” Murmurs Ella coolly.
“That was inevitable, from the moment Malachi arrived there.” Jo responds. “The only way it could have been avoided was if a certain someone had gotten their act together and killed him, as they had been ordained to do.” The ex-teacher turns and looks Ella in the eye: “Don’t blame me for the outcome of your mistakes.”
Jo’s remark hits a nerve, and Ella visibly blanches. Thelma tries to regain the moral high ground;
“So you don’t feel any guilt at all about what happened? Those students were placed under your care, and you just stood and watched as Malachi turned them into his slaves. They’re not even human anymore.” She bristles.
“I was lucky in one regard.” Concedes Jo. “There was one student of whom I was very fond. She was probably my favourite out of all the children I’ve taught. She had the relative good fortune, I suppose, to die before Malachi enroled at Medenham. So I suppose that in a way, she was spared.”
Thelma is slightly taken aback.
“You’re saying that Cassie was your favourite?” She asks.
“No, Thelma.” Says Jo, turning and looking at her. “You were.”
For once, Thelma is rendered speechless. Jo turns her attention back to the buffet, and Ella interjects;
“Aren’t you taking a risk, talking to us? I don’t think Malachi would approve of you consorting with the enemy.”
Jo smiles, as though silently enjoying a private joke.
“Malachi thinks I’m looking after things at our London headquarters.” She purrs. “And that’s all he needs to know.”
At that moment, a piercing scream erupts from the other side of the room. Ella and Thelma both immediately dart their heads around and look in it’s direction. Jo glances across rather more leisurely.
“Girls,” the ex-teacher murmurs, “I believe they’re playing our song.”
A crowd has already started to gather, with those further back trying to crane their heads and look over those in front. Ella starts trying to push her way through, but makes slow progress. She looks at Thelma, her eyes making a silent request. Thelma nods in response, then walks forward, moving through people. A split second after she’s walked through someone, we see several of these individuals either give a start, or suddenly shudder.
“I feel as though someone’s just walked over my grave,” we hear one mutter to their companion.
Thelma makes it to the front of the crowd, and sees what’s caused the commotion: Troy is lying spralled on the floor, the front of his shirt and suit awash with blood. Someone has slit his throat, and for good measure has then plunged the elegant-handled knive into his chest, all the way upto the hilt. A male guest is kneeing next to Troy, desperately trying to stem the bloodflow and locate a pulse at the same time. Thelma reaches down, and her fingers make contact with Troy’s face.
“Sorry Troy.” She murmurs. “I’m not going to pretend I liked you, but you didn’t deserve this. Especially not today.”
Thelma looks up just as Ella pushes her way to the front of the crush of onlookers. In answer to Ella’s questioning gaze, Thelma glumly shakes her head ‘no’. Voices are being raised in panic, asking what happened, and has an ambulance been called? Standing slightly to one side, a shocked bridemaid - who appears to have witnessed what occurred - is trying to cope with several people who have surrounded her and are all quizzing her simultaneously, demanding answers. She manages to blurt out that a girl and three men burst into the room, headed straight for Troy and Gemma, the girl attacked Troy, who collapsed, the men grabbed Gemma and a guest and dragged them away. Upon over-hearing of a guest being abducted, Ella starts looking about, searching for Leon. She can’t see him amongst the crush of faces. She pushes her way over to the bridemaid. In the background we hear a male voice appeal for calm, ask if a doctor is present, and request that people step back and make room. Ella reaches the bridesmaid, who’s clearly still in shock.
“You said that a guest was taken? Do you know who it was? What did he look like?” She asks the girl.
The bridesmaid’s eyes are darting about, looking over the tops of everyones’ heads and trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone, as though she’s expecting the walls to suddenly close in.
“I don’t know.” She manages to say. “I think – brown suit. He had a brown suit.”
Realisation sparks in Ella’s eyes. “Thank you.” She says to the girl, then she turns and looks at Thelma, who can tell with one glance at Ella’s expression what has happened. Jo appears at Ella’s elbow.
“Not quite how I imagined the marriage would end.” The ex-teacher comments, gazing at where the crowd have backed away slightly, allowing more room around the slain groom.
Ella responds by turning and grabbing Jo by the throat with one hand.
“Where have you taken them?” She hisses, glaring at the older woman.
Thelma glances round, but in all the alarm and confusion, nobody has noticed Ella menacing Jo. Looking totally unconcerned, Jo raises her hand, places it around Ella’s restraining forearm, and squeezes slightly. Ella’s face creases in pain and surprise and she loses her grip on Jo’s neck – the ex-teacher is a lot stronger than she looks. Jo releases Ella’s arm, and the Anointed One yanks it away and starts rubbing it with her other hand while looking at Jo with new-found caution. A figure enters the room and walks over to Jo’s side, ignoring the commotion surrounding Troy. It’s Perie. She stands protectively by Jo, facing Ella and Thelma and granting them her usual impenetrable smile.
“Not guilty this time, Ella.” Declares Jo, still looking completely unflappable. “The New Church has no reason to hurt Leon. Just the opposite in fact. If anything happens to him, fingers would point and questions asked. I’m afraid you’ll have to look for his abductor elsewhere.”
End of Part One.
