Virtual Third Season: Episode #11

[fenris]

This is rapidly becoming my own personal Vietnam. I'd originally intended to have the Rachel McBain storyline dealt with in a single episode, but then I decided to turn it into a two-parter, and now - despite my best efforts to haul in the reins - the damn thing has merrily run off and become a three parter! 'Sigh.' Therefore, as this is now the middle episode in what has become 'the Rachel arc', there's more emphasis on plot development and the relationships between the characters than there is on action.

As always, any feedback is gratefully received. Please be advised that this episode contains scenes of an adult nature.

Episode #11: Arranging the Deckchairs.

Previously on Hex: brief clips from Episode#10 – Leon saying “four of the five McBain descendants who Peggy located for us have been reported as being abducted.”; Jo saying to Corvide “I was wondering when Rachel would make her move.”; Rachel looking through the bars and saying to Midge “How is Ella?”; Malachi reacting with shock to his aged reflection; Jo saying to Malachi “Part of your lifeforce was siphoned away while you were either an infant, or still in your mother’s womb/now it appears to be running out.”; Alex saying to Malachi “She’s always known where the missing part of your lifeforce was. It’s inside a girl called Amber Chase.”; Rachel lifting up Amber’s head with a riding crop and saying “Greetings Miss Chase.”; Rachel saying to Midge “Five female members of my niece’s bloodline, all of child-bearing age, are currently alive and well.” Midge responding “Me and the other girls..”; Kessel reporting to Rachel “Malachi has accepted your offer/he’s prepared to give you whatever you want.”; Thelma, Ella and Leon all getting into Leon’s car, while Thelma says “My source has never put us wrong before.”; Roxy sitting on Jo’s bed, gazing down sadly at her mobile phone, with Jo sitting next to her;
Perie saying into her mobile “I assume you want me to kill someone?”

Malachi and Alex are walking up a flight of bare concrete stairs. The walls on either side are featureless except for a coat of white paint.
“It’s all arranged?” Malachi snaps.
“They’ve e-mailed with the location. It’s a country estate, in the greenbelt.” Confirms Alex.
Malachi acknowledges this with a nod, as the two of them reach the door at the top of the stairs. Malachi opens it and steps through onto the large, flat rooftop of the London headquarters of the New Church. The door is actually located in one of the walls of a square raised area in the centre of the roof that serves as a helicopter pad. Malachi and Alex walk up a set of metal stairs onto the pad, and stand awaiting a helicopter that can be seen as a black speck heading towards the building, approaching through the cloud-dotted sky. The sun is beginning to set, but it’s still quite light. A strong breeze blows around the rooftop, causing Alex’s cream leather overcoat to flap slightly, and Malachi has to brush his greying hair out of his eyes. Another set of footsteps can be heard on the metal stairs, and Malachi looks round to see Shannon emerge into view. The dark-haired succubus is wearing tight black jeans with a chucky white leather belt, black Doc Martins, and a bright red short-sleeved top. Both her arms are bandaged from her fingertips to where they disappear into her sleeves. The skin on her face and neck is extensively pitted and scarred with hundreds of pockmarks, and a black patch covers her left eye. Malachi looks inquisitively at Alex.
“You said you wanted some muscle.” She says with a quiet smile.
“Will she be enough?” Asks Malachi as Shannon steps onto the pad and begins to walk towards them.
“Oh yes.” Purrs Alex. “The doctors say she’s back to full fitness. And she’s literally brimming over with violent rage looking for an outlet, which I thought would come in useful if anything does wrong today.”
Malachi considers this for a moment, then nods. A few seconds later Shannon joins them. The sleek black helicopter is getting nearer and louder, the harsh whine of it’s turbine engine and the slap of it’s rotors against the air making any further conversation impossible.

Cut to Malachi’s penthouse apartment, a couple of floors below. Jo is standing in the glass overhang, arms folded, gazing out at the view of the city. The setting sun is starting to dip under the horizon, and the sky to the west is a wonderful fiery red. Perie silently enters the room and walks to Jo’s side. As the faerie reaches the ex-teacher, the helicopter carrying Malachi, Alex and Shannon dips into view as it heads away from the building.
“Malachi told me he was going away to his retreat in the Highlands, to come to terms with his rapid aging.” Jo comments, watching the helicopter depart.
“And his true destination?” Asks Perie in her silky accent.
Still gazing at the helicopter, Jo unfolds her arms and holds her hand out towards the faerie, a small piece of folded paper held between her fingers. Perie takes it, unfolds it, and reads the contents.
“We used to lease helicopters whenever we had need of one,” explains Jo, nodding towards the departing aircraft, “but eventually Malachi threw a hissy fit and insisted we buy a small fleet of our own. But although he likes to think otherwise, they’re not his personal property, they belong to the New Church. And as I control the Church’s finances, it means I pay the pilots’ wages. And I’ve instructed them to inform me of every flight plan that they lodge. The location is a large country estate. Presumably Rachel’s current base of operations.”
By now, the fast moving helicopter has already dwindled to a dot in the sky, heading west. Raising her right arm, Jo indicates towards another helicopter - identical to the first except it is deep red in colour - that is approaching the building from a north easterly direction, it’s fuselage glinting as it catches some of the remaining sunlight.
“Your chariot awaits.” The ex-teacher announces. “It’ll put you down a few miles from the grounds of Rachel’s mansion.”
“And my objective?” Asks the faerie.
Jo turns and walks out of the overhang, into the main living area of Malachi’s apartment. She picks up a thin folder that is resting on the arm of the plush black leather sofa, and hands it to Perie, who has followed a few paces behind. The faerie opens the folder and carefully examines several photos contained within (note: due to the camera angle, we can’t see the photos clearly).
“We didn’t create this situation, but we can use it to our advantage by making sure that Ella and Malachi are kept distracted and out of the way.” Declares Jo. “I’ve promised Roxanne that I don’t intend to have Ella or Leon killed, and I keep my promises. So try to avoid damaging them too much if you possibly can. However, you must ensure that these individuals” the ex-teacher taps the top of the folder with her forefinger “do not leave that mansion alive.”
“Understood.” Confirms Perie, placing the photos back into the folder and closing it. “So, apart from the Anointed One and her lover, and these targets,” she waves the folder slightly “what are my instructions regarding anyone else in the vicinity?”
Jo smiles softly;
“I leave that entirely to your discretion… and imagination. Have fun.” The ex-teacher murmurs, as the crimson helicopter nears the building.
Opening titles.

Rachel’s country estate. It’s night. Rachel’s mansion bristles with infa-red security cameras placed high on the walls, while key areas – such as exterior doorways - are bathed in permanent spotlight, and security guards trudge back & forth on patrol. In the grounds further away from the house, motion sensors have been placed atop of metal poles strategically positioned so that every inch of the gardens are covered.
The camera cuts a public road running alongside a section of the high wall surrounding the estate. Ella and Thelma – the latter holding a toolbelt weighed down with various items loosely against her side - stand and watch as Leon reverses the Corsa right up against the stonework. Placing the toolbelt on the roof of the car, Thelma slips a thick, elasticated black headband over her hair and fits it around her head. A small, oblong-shaped torchlight is clipped to the headband, and Thelma tugs the band round slightly so that the torch is positioned in the centre of her forehead. She locates the switch at the side of the torch and tests it, turning the light on and off. Then the ghost clambers onto the bonnet of the Corsa, gets carefully to her feet, and once sure of her balance, she steps up onto the vehicle’s roof. The top of the stone wall is now only about three feet above her. Crouching down and picking up the toolbelt, she keeps hold of one end as she throws it over the top of the stone wall, so that it’s hanging down both sides. Letting the belt go, Thelma jumps up with arms outstretched, places both hands on top of the wall, and hauls herself up. As she straddles the wall, she glances back at Ella and Leon.
“Wish me luck.” The ghost murmurs.
“See you inside.” Ella declares with a nod, then she and Leon get back into the Corsa and after a couple of seconds the vehicle starts up and pulls away.
Moving into a sitting position on top of the wall, Thelma puts the toolbelt on, doing it up tightly around her waist. She gazes across at the mansion, a large dark shape resting on the landscape in the distance, several doorways and windows lit.
“I should have asked for an Action Man when I was a child.” The ghost muses, then she jumps down off the wall into the inky darkness of the estate grounds.
The camera remains fixed at the top of the wall. There’s a pause for a couple of seconds. Then we hear Thelma mutter to herself;
“Damn! Forgot to synchronise watches.”

Cut to Kessel, standing on the outer parameter of a vast open-air courtyard that’s flanked behind her and to the left by two wings of the mansion, and serves as a helicopter landing pad. Rachel’s personal helicopter sits to one side, allowing more than enough room for another two craft to land and take off comfortably. Wearing a brown leather mini-skirt, matching knee-high boots, black fishnet stockings, and a long-sleeved, low-cut cream top that shows off her abundant cleavage, Kessel watches as the helicopter containing Malachi, Alex and Shannon approaches, coming in low over the mansion’s gardens (we see a brief shot of Thelma, looking up at the aircraft as it passes overhead). As the helicopter nears the landing pad, Kessel holds a hand protectively over her eyes as the downwash from the rotors causes hundreds of minute particles of grit and dirt to fly about. The sleek black craft makes a textbook landing, a safe distance away from Rachel’s transport. As the pilot kills the power to the engines and the rotorblades start to slow, Malachi opens the door of the vehicle and steps out, Alex and Shannon at his heels. Kessel waits for them to walk over to her.
“Welcome.” The German girl declares with a fixed smile. “My mistress is expecting you. Please follow me.”
Turning, she opens a tall door of polished oak and leads them through into the mansion.

Cut to Thelma, making her way through the grounds, maintaining a brisk pace. We see one of the closed circuit cameras slowly sweeping over the area in which Thelma is walking, then cut to the CCTV control room inside the mansion, in which one of Rachel’s bodyguards is keeping watch over a bank of screens. We go into a close-up of the screen displaying the area where Thelma is, and of course she can’t be seen.
We cut back to the ghost as she nears the mansion itself. A bored-looking guard is slowly walking along a gravel path that runs parallel to the side of the building. Without even bothering to glance in his direction, Thelma crosses in front of the guard, passing just a couple of feet from him, but as she’s invisible he shows no reaction. As the guard continues on his patrol, Thelma makes her way alongside the mansion wall, eventually finding one of the large wrought iron framed windows that’s been left open, by just a couple of inches. She glances about to check whether any of the guards are near, then carefully pulls the window open further. It creaks quietly, but makes no other noise. Clambering up, Thelma hauls herself through the opening and enters the house, pausing only to close the window behind her before going to explore.

Cut to Kessel leading Malachi, Alex and Shannon though to the mansion’s sizable indoor swimming pool. Wearing a white bikini, Rachel is in the middle of a length, performing the backstroke. Reaching the end of the pool, she stops, glances over and sees that she has visitors, and makes her way over to the ladder.
“Good evening.” She says as she treads water. “I trust my home is to your liking?”
“I’ve seen worse.” Mutters Malachi, as Rachel makes a show of climbing the ladder, stepping into the poolside and pausing to dramatically shake her hair free of water.
“I’m glad it meets your approval.” Rachel remarks as the droplets continue to fall.
Kessel picks up a large, white fluffy towel and a matching robe from a table by the wall and walks towards her mistress. Taking the towel from her underling, Rachel starts to dry herself as Kessel takes up position alongside her, both women facing their guests.
“Time for the formalities.” Rachel declares. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rachel McBain.”
Both Malachi and Alex’s eyes widen slightly, then a grin breaks out on Malachi’s face and a snort of laughter escapes him.
“You’re remarkably well preserved for someone who’s supposed to have died two and a half centuries ago.” He remarks with a cocky smile.
“And you look very old, considering you’re still a few months short of your sixth birthday.” Rachel counters, making the smile immediately vanish from his face. “What ails you, Malachi?”
“That’s my concern.” Malachi mutters guardedly. “Let’s just get this over with. You say you have the five remaining female descendents of…” He pauses as he remembers who he’s talking to: “your brother?”
“Indeed.” Confirms Rachel, handing the towel to Kessel, taking the robe in exchange and putting it on. “Would you like to see them?”
“We insist.” Declares Alex firmly.
Rachel looks at Alex curiously, as though she previously hadn’t noticed her.
“Of course.” The immortal purrs. “But first I must shower. Kessel will show you through to the Games Room, and provide you with any drinks or refreshments you require.”
She walks past Malachi, Alex and Shannon, pausing as she does so to run an appraising eye over Alex’s shapely form.
“Fire and steel.” Rachel remarks approvingly. “You must be quite a man, Malachi, to keep this fascinating creature in check.”
Then she breezes past them. Kessel motions Malachi, Alex and Shannon through another door.

End of Part One.

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Part Two.

We're in Rachel’s spacious, lavish bathroom, the walls and floor made of polished black marble. The lady of the manor is standing naked in a gently sloping, egg shaped, slightly lowered convex area in the centre of the room. A showerhead emerging down from the ceiling directly above her is cascading water over her, which then exits via a drain at the lowest point of the dipped area. There’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Enter.” Rachel says loudly, over the sound of the water.
The door opens and Kessel steps into the room.
“One of our guests wishes to speak with you. She says it can’t wait.” The German girl announces.
“She?” Rachel queries, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
“Mrs. Solomon.” Replies Kessel.
Rachel smiles to herself, ponders for a moment, then nods.
“Send her in.” She instructs.
Kessel nods, and leaves the room. Rachel loudly claps her hands, turning off the sound-activated shower. The gush of water immediately slows to a trickle, then stops. A few seconds later Alex enters.
“You have my full attention, Mrs. Solomon.” Rachel declares, facing the succubus, unashamed of her nakedness. “I’m all ears.”
“I’ve come to offer my services,” Alex says “as a sign of good faith, and to assure you of my husband’s good intentions regarding the deal we’ve come to make.”
“Offer your services?” Rachel murmurs, quizzically. “How exactly?”
Alex starts to slowly walk towards the immortal across the polished marble, pulling off her top and discarding it on the floor as she does so, revealing that she’s not wearing a bra.
“I thought I could shrub your back.” The succubus declares coolly, looking Rachel directly in the eye.
Rachel smiles like the cat who’s got the cream. Clapping to reactivate the shower, she holds out an inviting hand to Alex.

Cut to the CCTV control room elsewhere in the mansion. We see a close-up of one of the screens, which is showing Rachel and Alex standing naked under the shower, embracing and kissing passionately. We switch to the wide-eyed face of the bodyguard who’s watching the screen intently, then pan up to reveal Thelma standing just behind him, equally fascinated by Rachel and Alex’s activities. In unison, Thelma and the guard suddenly both tilt their heads to the right, their eyes still fixed on the screen. After a few seconds, Thelma shakes her head, as though to break the spell that the screen is casting, pulls a mobile phone out of her toolbelt and presses in a number.
The camera cuts to a moonlit lane next to the high stone wall of Rachel’s estate. Leon and Ella are both laying with their legs stretched out on the bonnet of the Corsa, their backs resting against the windscreen, gazing up at the stars.
“You know, in different circumstances this could be quite romantic.” Ponders Leon.
Ella’s mobile phone rings and she answers it. We cut back to Thelma in the control room.
“It’s me.” Announces Thelma, holding her mobile to the side of her head, and we hear Ella’s voice on the other end;
“We saw a helicopter.” The Anointed One remarks. “Malachi?”
“Yes, he’s here.” Confirms Thelma. “I’m still familiarising myself with the layout of this place.” She glances at another of the screens. “There appear to be cells - somewhere in the basement, I guess. Ten-to-one that’s where Midge and the others are being held. I’ll try to find out more. One thing I can confirm is whose house this is. It’s Rachel McBain’s.”
Cut back to the country lane. Phone held to her ear, Ella sits bolt upright on the bonnet.
“She’s alive?” The Anointed One exclaims. “You’re sure?”
Cut back to Thelma, gazing again at the screen that’s displaying Rachel’s bathroom.
“I recognise her from the portrait that used to hang in the dining hall at Medenham. She hasn’t aged a day.” The ghost declares with certainty.
We see the CCTV screen: Rachel is lying on her back on the marble floor, eyes closed and silently crying out, with the back of Alex’s head just visible at the left of the screen, buried between Rachel’s legs.
“Trust me, it’s her.” Thelma continues. “In the flesh.”
“The clock is ticking, Thelma.” Ella murmurs.
“I know. I’ll keep you posted.” The ghost replies, then she ends the call.

Cut to the Games Room. There’s a professionally-sized green snooker table and a blue pool table, a roulette wheel, and a couple of card dealing tables complete with several chairs, all placed around the room. A couple of large red sofas stand to one side of the room, facing each other with a long, thin shortlegged table placed inbetween. Malachi is slowly pacing about the room, hardly making an effort to hide his impatience. Shannon is leaning over the snooker table, picking up balls between her fingertips and rolling them across the table into the corner pocket that’s the furthest away from her. Rachel and Alex enter. The lady of the manor is wearing a sleeveless, red silk oriental-style dress that ends just above the knee, is slit up the right leg to her waist, with an embroided white locus blossom pattern that runs across the front and back. Alex is wearing a white towelling robe, identical to the one Rachel put on after exiting the swimming pool.
Please, sit.” Smiles Rachel, gesturing towards the sofas.
Malachi and Shannon sit on one sofa, Rachel and Alex settle down on the one opposite. Rachel makes a deliberate point of reaching over, parting Alex’s robe below the waist, and placing her hand on the succubus’s exposed thigh, all the while looking directly at Malachi.
“Giving me your wife as a plaything, Malachi?” She chides, still smiling. “My, you are nervous. You do realise that by revealing how much this deal means to you, you’ve placed yourself in a position of weakness?”
“I’ve already told you that I’m prepared to give you whatever you want.” Malachi mutters uncomfortably. “Let’s just get this over with. How much?”
Rachel laughs delightedly.
“Money? Oh no, Malachi. I want something far more valuable.” She declares.
Malachi shifts awkwardly on the sofa. He’s unused to not having the upper hand, and clearly dislikes it intently.
“Alright, tell me.” He murmurs coldly.
Rachel pauses and seems to ready herself, like an actor quickly running their lines through their head before stepping out on stage;
“I may not age, but I am not a true immortal - my body is as vulnerable to damage as any normal person. A serious enough injury can kill me.” She pauses to look Malachi directly in the eye. “Summoning your father forever damned me. Therefore, should I die, I will never see Heaven. You were placed on this Earth to bring about the End of Days. If or when that event occurs and everything is destroyed, I will go straight to Hell. That is not the most appealing of prospects.”
“Go on…” Murmurs Malachi, apparently beginning to slowly grasp his host’s intentions.
“As the Messiah of the Fallen Angels, the Bringer of the Apocalypse, you will have some considerable influence in Hell after the End.” Rachel continues. “In return for giving you the surviving descendents of my brother, I wish to be spared burning in the flames with the rest of the condemned.”
“Let me guess -you want to rule over the Pit by my side?” Malachi mutters scornfully.
“I’m realistic enough to not have ambitions that grand.” Rachel counters, her smile never coming close to wavering: “A place in Purgatory would be my ideal, but failing that I would gladly serve you in Hell, at your feet.”
Malachi looks at her inquisitively, realising the possibilities this presents.
“Anything to avoid the flames, eh?” He smirks.
“My pride would be a small price to pay.” Concedes Rachel.
“I can’t promise you Purgatory. I suspect even my authority will have it’s limits.” Malachi declares. “However, once I take my rightful place as a Prince of Hell, I fully intend to cherry-pick the most attractive condemned souls to serve as my personal harem. I’m sure I can find a place for you.”
Mouth fixed in taut line, Alex silently glares at Malachi. Ignoring her, he makes no attempt to hide the leering expression on his face as he blatantly runs his eyes up and down Rachel’s slim, shapely legs. Enjoying his gaze, the lady of the manor makes a show of slowly uncrossing and then recrossing them.
“I think we have a deal.” She purrs with a smile.
Taking hold of the hand that Rachel has placed on her exposed thigh, Alex firmly lifts it away and places it on the sofa between herself and the immortal.
“Then show us the descendents.” The succubus states determinedly.
“There’s that steel again.” Rachel murmurs appreciatively, looking at Alex. “I do hope your husband lets us play together when we’re harem sisters.”

Cut back to Leon and Ella, still in the lane, but now standing next to the Corsa. Ella’s mobile rings.
“Thelma?” She says, putting the phone to the side of her face.
Cut to a close-up of Thelma’s face, with her hand holding her mobile filling the left of the screen (Note: throughout the following verbal exchange, the camera slowly pans back away from Thelma, revealing her surroundings).
“I’ve hit the jackpot.” The ghost announces, and we hear Ella’s reply over the phone;
“You’re with Midge?” The Anointed One asks.
“No. I’ve not been to the cells yet, but I know where they are. I’m going there next. I’ll guide you in.” Thelma declares, then pauses. “It occurred to me that Rachel’s got so many security guards here, they’re practically a private army. And if you’ve got an army, you need an armoury.”
The camera has backed up so far that we can now see that Thelma is in a large cavernous room with bare concrete walls and exposed florescent strip lighting. The room is filled with wooden crates and boxes, all neatly stacked in rows and columns, some reaching from floor to ceiling. Thelma is standing in an aisle between two rows, where some of the columns are stacked only two or three boxes high. Several of the uppermost boxes have had their lids removed, and the contents are visible: automatic rifles, light machine-guns, hand grenades, mortar shells, handheld rocket launchers, all carefully packed in straw.
“Munitions?” We hear Ella enquire over the phone.
“Enough to start a small war.” Confirms Thelma. “ I think Rachel’s been indulging in some small scale arm-dealing on the side. Everyone needs a hobby I suppose.”
“What are your thoughts?” Murmurs Ella.
“You know the plan was for me to sabotage the mansion’s security system?” Replies the ghost. “Open up and do damage to a vital junction box, or sever a few important cables? Well now I’ve got a better idea.”

Cut back to the lane by the estate wall. Ella is listening to her mobile, Leon standing by her side. After several seconds, she speaks into it;
“Okay. Keep in touch.” She murmurs, ending the call.
Leon looks at her expectively.
“Slight change of plan.” The Anointed One informs him.
“Anything wrong?” He asks, but Ella shakes her head;
“Situations like this are always fluid.” She tells him.

Cut to the basement of the mansion. Rachel is leading the way along the wide corridor containing the doors to the cells. Kessel is at her mistress’s elbow, followed by Malachi, Alex (who has changed back into the clothes she arrived in) and Shannon. Having heard their approach, Midge and a couple of the other captives are gazing at the visitors through the barred windows on the doors.
“You see? All present and correct, just as I promised.” Declares Rachel, grandly sweeping her arm towards the cell doors, a Cheshire cat smile on her face. “We have all the necessary evidence to prove their ancestry, should you wish to peruse it.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Malachi assures her, flashing what he believes is a winning smile. “Now that we both know how much this deal means to both of us, I think we can afford to trust one another. Besides, there’s actually only one of these girls I’m interested in. Her.”
He points directly at Amber Chase, who’s standing at the window of her cell door. Amber’s eyes widen in surprise, her mouth unconscious opens and she takes a step back.
“She’s the only one I want.” Continues Malachi. “You can do what you like with the others.”
He waves his hand dismissively in the direction of the other cells. Rachel and Kessel regard him curiously.
“You’re quite sure?” The lady of the manor asks.
“Absolutely.” Smiles Malachi.
Alex reaches across and squeezes her husband’s arm, her eyes shooting a silent warning. He notices her concern.
“Don’t worry Alex, we can tell Lady McBain what’s happening. We’re all friends here.” He glances towards Rachel, grinning cockily: “Right?”
“Of course, my prince.” The lady of the manor murmurs demurely, then she walks slinkily towards Alex, takes hold of the succubus’s free hand, raises it to her mouth and gently kisses it.
“Soon we’ll be playmates for eternity.” She purrs dreamily, gazing into Alex’s eyes. “There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.”
Alex regards her rival coldly.
“You asked earlier why I’m looking like this.” Malachi continues, jutting a thumb towards his face.
“Prematurely aged and weakened?” Rachel comments, raising a quizzical eyebrow as she takes her eyes off Alex and glances towards him.
Malachi nods curtly.
“Well, it’s that peroxided bitch’s fault.” He declares, pointing at Amber’s cell again. “Part of my lifeforce resides in her. And I want it back, right now. We’ve brought with us all the instructions needed to carry out the ritual that will extract it from her. Is there somewhere in your grounds where we can perform it?”
“No time like the present, I suppose.” Rachel opines, pausing for a moment and considering his request. “Yes. I know a place that I’m sure will meet your requirements.”
Grinning, Malachi walks over to Amber’s cell and peers through the barred window at the frightened girl within.
“Just think,” he sneers in triumph “for the last six years you’ve had part of me inside you. Do you know how many women wish they could say that?”

Cut to Jo’s office at the new Church’s headquarters in London. The ex-teacher is sitting behind her desk, engrossed in reading something on her computer’s monitor screen. There’s a knock at the door.
“Enter.” Jo says, not taking her eyes from the screen.
An attractive but hard-faced girl in her early-twenties, her black hair in a bob and wearing an extremely short red mini-skirt, black fishnet tights, red stilettos and a dark crimson t-shirt, opens the door and walks to Jo’s desk. She bears Malachi’s mark on her neck. Jo briefly glances at the succubus, then returns her attention to the screen.
“Ah, Monika.” The ex-teacher remarks. “Thank you for answering my summons. I have a small task for you, it won’t take long. I just need you to find my PA, Ms Corvide. She has a file I need, but she’s not at her desk and her mobile’s turned off. I can’t go looking for her, as I’m in the middle of something important. I know she’s in the building somewhere. You might want to look in the archive rooms on the upper basement level first. I suspect she’s there putting something in storage, but the intercom down there is broken and Maintenance haven’t gotten round to fixing it yet.”
“Yes, Miss Watkins.” Says Monika obediently. “Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s all, thank you.” Murmurs Jo, granting the succubus another glance.

Cut to a corridor under ground level at the New Church’s headquarters. The walls are bare concrete, and the lights in the ceiling are placed a considerable space apart, leaving shadowy areas between each pool of light. The doors of a lift at the end of the corridor open, and Monika steps out. She gazes at her surroundings for a moment, then walks briskly, purposely, down the corridor. She halts at a metal door on which the words ‘ARCHIVE STORAGE 1’ has been stencilled in white. Opening the door she walks in. The room inside is dimly lit, and she takes a couple of tentative steps forward, squinting as her eyes adjust to the relative gloom (unnoticed by the succubus, who has stepped past it, is a chair placed against the wall to one side of the door, on which a black business suit is neatly folded, with a pair of black high-heeled shoes placed on the floor underneath). Monika’s breath clouds as she exhales.
“Cold in here.” She murmurs faintly to herself, before raising her voice and asking loudly “Hello? Ms Corvide? Miss Watkins sent me.”
Silence. She takes a couple of more steps forward, her eyes getting used to the murkiness. Those eyes suddenly widen and we see an expression of stunned shock appear on her face. The camera angle changes so that we can see what she’s seen: four naked bodies are hanging on the wall in front of her, approximately ten feet away. The bodies are all female, and each is placed in a crucified position, arms out straight from the shoulders. They appear to have partly fed upon – large chucks of flesh have been bitten off, at least two of the bodies have a leg ending in a gnawed stump, there are jagged teeth marks on breasts, and a couple of the corpses’ stomachs are gaping open, with one of them having loops of intestines hanging out, nearly reaching the floor. As the camera pans over the carcasses, and we see their lifeless faces hanging down, we recognise them as the Malachettes.
“That’s why the room’s refrigerated.” Comes a voice from somewhere in the gloom, causing Monika to issue a gasp that sounds almost like a cry.
“It delays the decomposition.” Continues the voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once, as a frightened Monika starts to back towards the door while looking about wildly, her head darting as she tries to see the speaker.
“Though personally I find that a touch of decay improves the flavour.” The voice declares.
Glancing about, Monika keeps retreating towards the door. Behind her, we see a naked Corvide suddenly rise up. The PA’s eyes are completely black, wide open, and unblinkingly staring at the back of the succubus’s head, while her mouth is fixed into a wide but tight-lipped smile, with blood and tiny fragments of meat smeared thickly over the lower half of her face. She leans forwards and speaks softly right into Monika’s ear;
“Boo.”
Before the succubus can react, Corvide grabs her shoulder with one hand, pushes Monika’s head to one side with her other hand and sinks her teeth into the girl’s neck with a harsh rasping craw-like sound. Monika screams, frails her arms and tries to pull away from Corvide, but the changeling’s grip is too strong. Corvide abruptly jerks her head back, biting off a sizable chunk of Monika’s neck in the process, and violently shoves the succubus, sending the girl sprawling onto the bare concrete floor. Monika tries to scramble to her feet, but suddenly her limbs start jerking and she collapses onto her back, legs straight and arms rigid by her sides as her body goes into spasm. Regarding the stricken girl with interest, Corvide stands a few feet away, blood dripping down from her face onto her breasts, audibly chewing and then swallowing the mouthful of Monika’s flesh. The succubus’s body continues quaking and sweat has broken out all over her skin. The veins under her skin closest to the bite wound are noticeably turning darker, almost black, and this is spreading rapidly across her entire body, moving down her exposed arms and visible under the mesh of the tights on her legs. As Monika whimpers in pain and terror, her eyes wide and pleading, blood starts to spontaneously well up on the undamaged side of her neck, precisely where Malachi’s mark is situated. The blood forms in the exact same shape as the mark, and Corvide pads forwards, black eyes glinting and smiling hungrily. The changeling suddenly scoops down onto all fours, her face next to Monika’s neck, and the succubus screams as Corvide leans in… unfolds an unnaturally long tongue, and eagerly, almost lovingly, licks the blood off the girl’s skin, carefully lapping her neck clean with slow, lingering and deliberate movements, as though savouring the experience.
Staying by Monika’s side, Corvide lifts her head and upper body away from the girl, straightening her back and resting on her knees. The changeling runs the tips of her fingers over her breasts, collecting the tiny splashes of liquid blood gathered there, then raises her hands to her face and starts sucking and licking her fingers. The door out of the room opens, and Jo stands on the threshold, regarding the scene calmly before entering.
“It’s done?” The ex-teacher asks.
Turning to look to her superior, Corvide smiles and nods while continuing to suck a digit. Jo walks over, then crouches down next to her naked PA and examines Monika’s neck. Glistening from the attention it received from Corvide’s tongue, the skin there is unmarked. Malachi’s sign has vanished. Jo and Corvide exchange a look and a satisfied smile.
“Good girl.” Murmurs Jo, as she reaches across and strokes the side of the changeling’s blood-splattered face, smearing her fingers with gore as she does so.
As the ex-teacher moves her hand away, Corvide takes hold of it with both her hands and – while the two women maintain eye contact - she gently starts kissing and licking Jo’s fingers, while making a quiet sound that’s similar to a cat mewing affectionately. Once Jo’s hand had been thoroughly cleaned, the two of them then turn their attention to Monika: her spasms have decreased to a slight trembling, but she still seems unable to move, apart from her eyes, which look pleadingly at Jo.
“What’s happening to me?” The girl manages to whine faintly.
Jo gestures towards Corvide;
“My colleague is a first generation Lilin. Do you know what that means?” Jo asks, then continues without waiting for an answer. “She is a carrion eater, and to aid her in acquiring food, her bite is fatal to mortals. In fact, descendents of another branch of her family became the first vampires. But you, my dear Monika, are not mortal.” Jo smiles. “You’re a succubus. One of the most powerful of Malachi’s inner circle, third only behind Alex and Shannon. So we suspected that instead of proving fatal, Corvide’s bite would merely infect you, though to be honest we weren’t entirely sure it would work. It’s never been tried before, you see. But it appears the experiment is a resounding success.”
Still smiling, Jo looks across at Corvide and places a sisterly hand on the Lilin’s bare arm.
“Congratulations. I hope you find motherhood as stimulating as I have.” The ex-teacher murmurs warmly.
Monika’s trembling has stopped. She tentatively lifts her hands and holds them above her face, turning them over and back again, examining them as though she’s never seen them before.
“Everything’s…” The girl murmurs, then pauses. “I’m different. What am I? Am I… Lilin?”
Gazing down at Monika with unblinking, pure black eyes, Corvide shakes her head;
“Not pure Lilin, no.” She declares. “Something new. Unique. A hybrid. Free of Malachi’s control.”
Jo and Corvide both straighten up. The PA extends an expectant hand towards Monika, and – after a moment’s hesitation – she takes it. Corvide helps the former succubus to her feet, and the girl looks uncertainly back and forth at Jo and the Lilin as she steadies herself. Then, gazing curiously at Corvide, Monika suddenly leans towards her and sniffs inquisitively at the PA’s raven-black hair. A look appears on the girl’s face that is half-incredulous, half-realisation.
“Mother?” She enquires wondrously.
“I am now.” Corvide declares, cupping Monika’s face in her hands. “Welcome to the family, newborn.”
“So what happens now?” Monika asks plaintively.
Jo places a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“There’s a new world coming, Monika.” The ex-teacher murmurs reassuringly. “And you’re going to get a ringside seat at it’s birth. Everything is going to change. It’s a new Genesis. And it’s going to be glorious.”
“It’s been quite a taxing day for you.” Comments Corvide. “You must be exhausted.”
“No.” Monika opines, almost surprised. “I don’t feel tired at all.”
“And you never will again.” Corvide smiles. “But your energy levels have been depleted. They need replenishing.”
The Lilin takes the former succubus by the hand and guides her towards the corpses of the Malachettes.
“Come.” Corvide declares. “Let’s feed.”


On-screen caption: To be continued.

[WarrenWitchesRule]

Hey there, another bril installment as always.
Just wanted to check though did you know you put Troy instead of Leon?
"the latter holding a toolbelt weighed down with various items loosely against her side - stand and watch as Troy reverses the Corsa right up against the stonework"

Also where do you get your research from such as the Lilan etc

[orokiah]

“Just think,” he sneers in triumph “for the last six years you’ve had part of me inside you. Do you know how many women wish they could say that?”

Hehe, you sum up the hubris of Malachi so perfectly in that line. I think it's his fatal flaw - unless the premature ageing gets him first.

Great stuff as usual.

[fenris]

warrenwitchesrule said:

Did you know you put Troy instead of Leon?

How the hell did that happen?! Thanks for pointing it out, WARRENWITCHESRULE. Well spotted. I've gone back and corrected it.

Where do you get your research from such as the Lilin, etc.

I've not really needed to do any specific research for the Virtual Third Season, but only because I knew most of this stuff already. Ever since I was a little kid, I've devoured books about the paranormal, unexplained mysteries and conspiracy theories, and I'm a die hard fan of science fiction and horror TV shows, movies and comic books. So I simply took various myths and legends and adapted them for my own use. In some of the previous episodes I've included occasional references to both real life supernatural phenomenon and fictitious genre characters and locations.

[tenacious]

Ahh, I love a well sotcked armoury, smells like a plan coming together. It's really building up very well.

Anyway, it very interesting the way your incorporating all the mythology and horror definitely keeps the villians wicked and cunning.
I 've been a devoted fan of roman, greek, german and norse myths you keep seeing the stories pop up in all sort of modern context. A religions myths tend to be deep and no matter which one they all have thier dark side and then thier really blood chilling bone gnawing dark side. Good job on bring it out in your story.

So looking foward to the next episode