Virtual Third Season: Episode #13

[fenris]

A new episode at last! Sorry it's taken so long. Please be advised that there are scenes of a very adult nature. As always, any feedback is gratefully received.


Episode #13: Second Sun.

Previously on Hex: brief clips from Episode #11 – Rachel declaring “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rachel McBain.”; Malachi murmuring “You have the five remaining female descendents of your brother?”; Rachel sweeping her arm towards the cell doors and announcing “All present and correct.” Malachi pointing at Amber and declaring “She’s the only one I want/Part of my lifeforce resides in her.” Rachel saying “I know a place that I’m sure will meet your requirements.”
A clip from Episode #12 - Malachi sauntering up to a trussed-up Amber Hunt.
Brief clips from Episode #11 – Jo saying to Perie “I’ve promised Roxanne that I don’t intend to have Ella or Leon killed.” Perie asking “What are my instructions regarding anyone else in the vicinity?” Jo smiling and replying “Have fun.”; Thelma standing in the armoury, boxes of weapons open on either side, revealing their contents. Ella talking into her mobile, asking “Munitions?” and Thelma replying “Enough to start a small war.”
Brief clips from Episode #12 - Thelma pressing a numbered button on the transmitter; A montage of explosions occurring throughout the mansion; A naked Jo wrapping her arms around Azazeal's neck and declaring "Azazeal. At last."

On-screen caption: Fifteen minutes ago.
We see the eastern side of Rachel McBain's mansion. Numerous fires, varying in size, have broken out throughout the building following the series of explosions set by Thelma. Some of Rachel’s men are breaking off into small teams, improvising and trying to cope with some of the individual blazes, but there’s nobody in over-all charge with any interlinked plan or strategy. There’s never been any training or preparation for this contingency, because it was never perceived that anything like this – somebody simply bypassing all the mansion’s alarm systems, motion sensors, CCTV surveillance and manned patrols, then planting bombs without interruption all over the building – could ever happen.
The two 4x4s containing Rachel, Kessel and the men who accompanied them to the standing stones, approach the series of large garage doors that serve as the entrances to the mansion’s automotive storage and maintenance area, housing not only the vehicles used around the estate and Rachel’s small fleet of limousines, but also her exotic and expensive car collection. This includes quite a few oddities, such as three-wheelers and bubble cars.
The 4x4s weave around several employees who are running to and thro, either rushing to help fight one of the fires, or carrying priceless heirlooms and works of art out of the building, saving them from the flames. The two vehicles come to halt outside the garage doors, and Rachel, Kessel, and the others disembark, and gaze about at all the activity, all trying to survey the situation. The lady of the house spots an employee emerging from a door at the rear of the mansion’s central building, and briskly walks towards him, calling out his name over all the surrounding noise;
“Peppard.” She hails him. “Damage report.”
“At least a dozen fires in the east and south wings, and the south-facing side of the main building.” Peppard replies, straightening slightly in Rachel’s presence as she reaches him. “We’re fighting them as best we can, but there’s simply too many, too far apart. And floors and ceilings have collapsed, blocking corridors or making them unsafe, so we can’t reach some of the fires. We’re simply trying to prevent them spreading further.”
“Very good. Carry on.” Rachel nods, then turns to Kessel. “I’m going to try to get to the control room. If part of the CCTV network is still working, I’ll be able to co-ordinate things better there. The radio system’s down, so we’ll have to rely on mobiles for communication. Spread the word to as many as you can. Phones switched on and left on. If I call, they answer.”
Kessel nods, and turns to obey, but pauses when she feels Rachel’s hand on her shoulder. She turns back to face her employer, and Rachel steps up close to her, leaning in and resting her forehead against the German girl’s, both of them closing their eyes, as though breathing in each other’s essence, a centre of calm amongst all the chaos. The lady of the manor reaches up and places her hand on the side of the blonde girl’s face.
“Be careful.” Rachel breathes. “You’re more than an employee to me.”
Then she steps away. Both women open their eyes, gaze at one another with a look that leaves nothing unsaid, then turn and walk briskly away without another glance, both now fully occupied with their separate tasks.

On-screen caption: Ten minutes ago.
The inside of Midge’s cell, underneath the west wing of the mansion. Midge is standing a few feet back from the door as we hear the harsh, angry sound of a drill. Suddenly the drill bit emerges through the lock, the noise immediately becoming a shrill whine as the drill spins in free air, before being switched off. The drill bit vanishes as it’s pulled back out of the lock, and a couple of seconds later the door is pulled open. Thelma stands slightly to one side in the threshold, her toolbelt weighed down with various compact but still cumbersome items.
“You said you had something to tell me.” Midge murmurs apprehensively, making no move to leave the cell.
A serious-faced Thelma just nods.
“Yes. Yes I do.” The ghost intones simply. “Come out, and I’ll fill you in.”

Cut to Jo’s darkened office within the London headquarters of the New Church. Corvide enters, wearing her usual black short-skirted business suit and carrying a large mug in her hand. She doesn’t put the light on, but instead walks over to Jo's desk and places the mug on a coaster. Taking off her suit jacket, the Lilin drapes it over Jo’s high-backed leather chair, and sits down. She takes a sip from the mug, which bears the slogan 'That's MISS Bitch to you!' This leaves a line of blood on her upper lip, and she runs her tongue over it, licking it clean. Stretching her arms, Corvide kicks off her high-heeled shoes and flexes her toes, making herself comfortable. She’s clearly going to be here sometime.

Cut to the cellar under the west wing. Midge is standing directly in front of Thelma. To the left, further back, we can see a couple of the other kidnapped girls straining to peer at Midge through the bars in their cell windows, trying to work out who Midge is talking to.
“You have to understand that failing to stop Malachi’s conception and birth – it really affected Ella.” Thelma murmurs, the apologetic tone in her voice and the gesturing of her hands indicating that she’s working up to something that she knows Midge is going to take badly, and is attempting – rather transparently – to defuse it’s impact. “It was her sacred duty, something she’d carried out for over four hundred years - her entire reason for living. And then she screwed up.”
The ghost pauses before continuing;
“And with everything that’s happened since - all the students at Medenham becoming succubus and incubi, all the people Malachi has killed directly, the millions brainwashed and defrauded by the New Church. All the thousands killed in the wars and strife caused by Malachi’s presence on Earth. Families torn apart, worldwide upheaval… Maya… It’s weighted on Ella heavily. She’d had the guilt of the world on her shoulders.”
“Thelma,” Midge says, feeling nervous because Thelma’s clearly nervous, “what are you trying to tell me?”
The ghost looks the girl in the eye.
“Ella vowed that it would never happen again.” Thelma states firmly. “If she managed to stop Malachi, kill him, prevent the End of Days, she was determined that there would be no chance of another Messiah of the Fallen Angels ever being born.”
Midge stares at the ghost for a second, the implication of these words registering. She glances at the other cell doors, then looks at Thelma.
“She was going to kill us?” Midge asks plaintively.
“No. No.” Thelma says quickly, shaking her head. “There’s a spell. Ella had never been able to use it before, because a very rare ingredient was needed. The ashes of a slain Nephilim. Azazeal had been the only Nephilim to walk the Earth, and he’d always managed to stay one step ahead of Ella. But Malachi’s birth enabled other Nephilim to rise from Hell. Ella killed three while at Medenham, but the first died on the lawn and the second in the orchard, both out in the open. There were people nearby, and so Ella didn’t have a chance to stay and collect the ashes. By the following morning, they had blown away in the breeze.”
Thelma pauses.
“But the third Nephilim died in the disused swimming pool under the school.” She says. “Ella collected the ashes and kept them safe. Then, when Peggy located the last remaining McBain descendents – you and the other girls – Ella used the ashes to perform the ritual needed to invoke the spell. She performed it five times, at night, outside each of the houses where you and the others lived, while you slept.”
Thelma pauses again. There’s more to come. She’s still holding something back. Midge shallows hard, then speaks;
“Thelma,” She says, forming her words carefully and trying to sound calm, but unable to hide the anxious edge in her voice, “what did she do?”
“It’s an infertility spell.” Thelma bleats simply. “It made you all barren.”
The realisation visually hits Midge. She sways slightly and her eyes widen for a moment, then glisten with instant unshed tears at the size of the betrayal.
“She wanted an end to the bloodline without killing anyone.” Thelma continues nervously. “It was the only way.”
But Midge isn’t listening anymore. Almost subconsciously, she’s placed a hand on her stomach and is gazing down at it. Thelma stands in front of her, not knowing what to do and feeling more awkward, guilty and useless than she can ever remember being while still alive. The ghost’s mobile rings. She looks at the call display: it reads ‘Ella’. With a nervous glance at Midge, Thelma places the phone next to her face;
“Ella?” She murmurs.
At the sound of the name, Midge’s eyes dart up and flash angrily at Thelma.

On-screen caption: Five minutes ago.
We're in the CCTV room within Rachel’s mansion. The lady of the manor is stood alongside the seated guard, the latter trying rather badly to hide his nervousness and wondering how much his employer blames him for the unfolding events. Rachel however is totally focused on those screens that are still working. She select a number on her mobile and calls it.
"Kessel." She announces. "It's not going well. Time to deal with some loose ends, in case the fire is noticed by outsiders and the authorities notified. Get a couple of the men to the cells - tell them to take one of the four wheel drives. They're to kill the girls, drive the bodies out of the grounds, and bury them a safe distance away."
"You're sure you want them dead?" Kessel's voice comes over the phone.
"Malachi doesn't want them. And I don't want the inconvenience of the fire brigade discovering four kidnapped girls, followed by the extremely large fees my solictors will charge to make it all go away, plus the favours I'll have to call in to keep it out of the media." Rachel replies.
"Understood." Kessel acknowledges.
"Call me back with the names of the men you send. I'll contact them direct to make sure that it's been done." Rachel declares, then ends the call.

On-screen caption: Now.
We see again the conclusion of the penultimate scene in Episode #12. Midge unleashes a punch that hits Ella square on the chin, the blow accompanied by a yell of anger, hurt, exertion and frustration. Her head thrown back by the impact, Ella stumbles a couple of steps backward, almost regains her balance, then one of her feet trips over the other and she lands flat on her backside.
Opening titles.

The bedroom of Jo’s quarters within the New Church’s London headquarters. The ex-teacher’s naked body stands pressed against Azazeal as they embrace, her head tilted to one side, her eyes closed as he expertly nuzzles her neck.
“You kiss like your son.” Jo breathes. “I’d almost forgotten how similar you are.”
Upon hearing this, the Nephilim moves his face away from her neck and pretends to look mildly offended.
“I’ve never had a woman forget anything I’ve done to them.” He says, in a mock-abashed tone.
“Well,” counters Jo, running a hand through his hair, “in my defence, it has been a very long time.”
“Indeed it has.” The angel concedes with a smile. “Too long.”
He reaches up with his left hand, gently places the tip of his forefinger against her temple, then slowly runs his finger down the curve of her face.
“I must say, you’ve done an excellent job of raising Malachi.” He murmurs. “He couldn’t have had a better mother.”
“Better than Cassie?” Jo asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
“The Hughes girl?” Azazeal remarks, with an edge in his voice that is a cross between an amused laugh and a snort of dismissal. “An incubator for my child, nothing more. As you well know.” He chides Jo.
“Though I have to confess I did enjoy bending her to my will.” He continues, gazing slightly away for a moment, voice growing softer with the memory. “It was almost a pity she didn’t put up much of a fight. You though, were more of a challenge. A prize truly worth winning.”
“So it was always your intention that I raise your – our - child?” Jo probes, correcting herself mid-sentence.
“The moment I first saw you, I knew you’d be perfect.” The angel declares softly. “It all just fell into place. Cassie had served her purpose, and she clearly didn’t have your… potential.”
Azazeal’s finger has reached Jo’s neck. He stops it’s downward approach and instead cups his hand under her chin. With his other hand he firmly squeezes her left breast, rubbing the nipple with his thumb in a clockwise rotation.
“You possess certain” - he pauses, his smile growing wider - “attributes in abundance that poor misguided Cassie sadly lacked. And after Mephistopheles disgraced himself, the higher powers swiftly agreed with me.”
“I’ve never had the chance to thank you for entrusting me with him. For giving me motherhood.” Jo declares huskily, gazing into the angel’s eyes. “I couldn’t have asked for a finer son. Or a more eager pupil. He’s been very keen to put what I’ve taught him into practice.”
“So I hear.” Azazeal murmurs, clearly amused, and the ex-teacher immediately catches his meaning.
“Well, all that energy and enthusiasm bubbling away inside him needed an outlet.” She defers coyly. “It would have been unhealthy to let it stay bottled up.”
“Oh, so you were thinking purely of Malachi’s wellbeing?” The nephilim queries knowingly, humour in his voice.
“I’m not saying there weren’t some fringe benefits.” Jo confirms with a kittenish purr. “Over the last five years, he’s become very adept at pleasuring me.”
“Life does have it’s little rewards.” The angel comments dryly. “Speaking of which –”
He suddenly reaches down, places an arm behind Jo's knees, then scoops her up in his arms as though she were weightless, and carries her towards the large four-poster bed with it’s elaborately carved frame of blackened oak.
“For being a mother, guardian and tutor to my son, and for a job extremely well done, I have a very big reward for you.” Azazeal declares.

Cut to the cellar under the west wing. Midge is standing over Ella, who's made no attempt to get up.
"You took away my ability to have a child, a family," Midge almost yells, her face creased in anger, both hands still cletched by her sides, "me and the others. You had no right."
Still sitting, looking up at the furious girl, Ella offers no excuses, no defence. She seems almost calm, thinks Thelma, standing a few feet away and gazing at the two women as Leon tries to calm the girls in the cells behind her. Of course, the ghost realises, she's had to shoulder far worse guilt over the centuries. Almost as though she has read her friend's thoughts, Ella's gaze briefly leaves Midge and catches Thelma's. The immortal's head moves a couple of millimetre downwards, a barely perceptable nod in acknowledgement of her friend's support.
"The only other alternative would have been to kill you. You and the others." Ella announces simply, giving Midge her full attention again and starting to get up, the long folds of her coat sweeping and stirring up the dust on the floor as she does so.
"Would you rather be dead?" The Anointed One asks.
Midge steps forward as Ella finishes straightening up, standing toe-to-toe with the auburn-haired immortal, their faces only a few inches apart.
"It's not as simple as that." Midge insists angrily, "I -"
"Yes. It. Is." Ella declares firmly, the tone of her voice unthreatening, but brooking no argument.
The two women stare at each other. As bad as she felt about what had happened to Midge and keeping it secret from her, if Thelma had any money, she'd put it on Ella.
"To you, the End of the World is just a hypothetical scenario." Ella says. "A fantasy. Something you read about in books, or watch unfold in widescreen and surround-sound in Hollywood blockbusters. It's entertaining, not really scary, because it's never really going to happen, right?"
She reaches forward and paces both hands on Midge's shoulders, her glaze never leaving the other girl's eyes;
"To me, it's my daily reality. For four and a half centuries." Ella intones. "If I screw up, the world dies. Everybody you know - friends, family, work colleagues, aquaintances, strangers in the street. The girl who serves you in the all-night chemist. The old lady in the bus queue. The shelf shackers in Tescos. Tom Cruise. J.K. Rowling. Billions of people you'll never met. Everyone. Dead."
In the background, Leon catches Thelma's attention and silently gestures towards the compact cordless drill in her toolbelt. Pulling the item out, she tosses it to him, he catches it, then he turns his attention to the nearest cell door.
"Here's something else I've kept from you." Ella continues to Midge. "Ever since I became an Anointed One, at least once a week Heaven has sent me a dream of the End of Days happening. In graphic detail. I thought they might cease when I broke away and became a free agent, but they haven't. They're a constant reminder of what will happen if I fail. And an incentive that I don't."
"She's not kidding." Thelma interjects. "I've seen it. Walked through it." (and often held Ella's hand throughout, she thinks to herself) "As motivational tools go, it's a doozy."
"If having you hate me is the price I have to pay for not having to kill you, then so be it. I can live with that, Midge." States Ella, still meeting the young girl's gaze. "I've learnt to live with a lot. For a very long time."
Leon has been busy with the drill. He has bored through one lock and is starting with another. With a final squeeze of Midge's shoulders, Ella walks over and opens the unlocked door.
"It's okay, come out." She says to the apprehensive-looking girl inside, stepping back so not to crowd her.
Glancing at the doors of the other cells with occupants, the Anointed One raises her voice, speaking not only to the girl just freed, but also those still to be liberated;
"We know you're scared, we know you have questions. But there's no time for that now. We've come to get you out of here. Come with us, do as we say, and hopefully we can all get out of here safely."
"There's only four of you." Thelma realises, glancing at the cells and then Midge. "Where's the fifth?"
"Malachi and Rachel took her away." Says Midge. "He said something about his lifeforce being inside her. He doesn't look well."
"This girl - Amber Chase?" Asks Ella, and Midge nods;
"I saw them bring her in. Rachel called her Chase." She confirms.
"Did they say where they were taking her?" Ella queries.
Before the girl can answer, the sound of a large vehicle approaching and slowing to a halt can be heard, coming from the open door at the end of the cellar corridor. Without anything being said, Thelma pulls a hammer and a wretch from her toolbelt and marches towards the doorway.
"I'm on it." The ghost declares. "I've got a crapload of guilt to take out on someone. Why pass up such a golden opportunity?"
She steps through the doorway, then turns and disappears up the granite stairs, heading up to ground level.
"Malachi wanted to perform some kind of ritual. Rachel said there was a good place in the grounds. A stone circle, south-east of the mansion." Midge continues.
Leon has freed the last of the girls, who are clustered together in the centre of the corridor, still clearly wary of their rescuers. Ella places a hand on Midge's arm, and nods towards the captives.
"You were locked up with them. They'll trust you. Help us keep them calm?" The Anointed One asks.
"They've seen me apparently talking to thin air, not to mention flooring you. They probably think I'm mad." Midge counters, pointedly tensing at Ella's touch.
"At least they know you. Me and Leon are strangers to them. At least try. Not for me, for them. Please?" Ella murmurs.
Midge regards the immortal coolly for a few seconds, then nods and walks over to the three girls;
"It's okay, these are friends of mine," she starts to say, as Thelma reappears in the doorway, still holding the hammer and wretch in each hand.
"We've got two unconscious goons, and a four wheel drive with the keys in the ignition and the tank three-quarters full." The ghost reports.
"Good work." Acknowledges Ella, then she turns to Leon: "Take the vehicle and get Midge and these girls out of here. Take them to the nearest police station. Actually, scratch that - Rachel might have the local constabulary in her pocket. But she'd want to maintain a low profile, so take them to the closest large town. Hopefully her influence won't stretch that far."
"What about you and Thelma?" He asks.
"We're staying." The Anointed One declares. "We have to rescue Amber Chase. Plus if Malachi performs this ritual and becomes whole, he'll be at the peak of his powers. The End of Days will be another giant step closer."
Leon goes to say something, but Ella reaches up and places her fingertips on his mouth, stopping him.
"No arguments Leon." She says firmly.
He looks at her for a moment, then nods. She moves her hand away and gently kisses him.
"Go. Now." Ella whispers.
Leon turns and starts ushering the three kidnapped girls towards the door at the end of the corridor, taking the lead with Midge bringing up the rear. As Leon and the other girls venture up the granite stairs, Midge pauses in the doorway and looks back at Ella, then Thelma.
"It wasn't a coincidence, you attending that seance, was it? You targeted me. You've been lying to me since the start." Midge says to the ghost.
"Sorry." Thelma bleats, guiltily but sincerely.
Midge gazes at both of them;
"I know you did what you thought you had to. I understand. But once we're all safely out of here, I don't want anything more to do with you. You're to leave me alone, understood? I never want to see any of you again." She says simply and firmly, then she turns and walks up the stairs.

Cut to Jo's bedroom in the New Church's headquarters. Still gloriously naked, the ex-teacher is lying on the bed, eyes closed and sighing deeply as an equally naked Azazeal kisses her inner thighs, switching his attention from one leg to the other, slowly making his way upwards. Unable to wait any longer, Jo grabs the back of the angel’s head and - laughing wickedly - shoves his face down into where her legs meet...

Cut to the eastern side of the mansion. Kessel is directing the firefighting effort on the ground as best she can. Her mobile goes off, she answers, and we hear Rachel's voice;
"We're merely delaying the inevitable. The mansion is lost." The immortal declares simply. "Gather all the items have been removed from the house, and load them into as many vehicles from the collection as you need. Prepare to evacuate."
"Understood." Kessel acknowledges. "Should I wait for you?"
"No, I'll take the helicopter." Rachel replies. "The fires are nowhere near the landing pad so far, and the winds are currently blowing the smoke away from it, so taking off won't be a problem. We'll rendezvous at my Cornish estate."
"Affirmative." Says Kessel.
"One final matter." Rachel remarks: "I've tried to contact Abbott and Folesmill for a progress report on the disposal of our guests, but neither of them are replying. Send someone to check on them. Once that's resolved, you and the men can move out."
"It'll be done." Kessel declares, and the call ends.

End of Part One.

[fenris]

Part Two.

Cut to the large two-sided courtyard at the northern end of the main building, that serves as a helicopter landing pad. The 4x4 containing Shannon and Alex speeds into view, the latter at the wheel. The succubus brings the vehicle to a halt forty feet away from the helicopter that she, her husband and Shannon arrived in. The New Church's pilot is sitting in the cockpit, quickly carrying out routine pre-flight checks, having been contacted via mobile by Shannon and told to prepare for immediate take-off. Rachel's helicopter sits a safe distance away, across the pad. The two succubi exit the four wheel drive.
"I don't want you to get on board yet. I have another task for you." Alex begins, but Shannon interupts;
"Malachi said I was to stay with you and protect you."
Alex smiles knowingly in response.
"Don't worry, you'll like this assignment. I agree with you that Ella's behind this." The tawny blonde succubus nods towards the thick black smoke rising from the far side of the mansion, visible against the brightening sky. "I want you to find her. And then kill the bitch."
Upon hearing this, Shannon's mouth forms into a wide smile, causing the barely-healed skin on both her lips to split and crack in several places. If this causes her any discomfort, she gives no sign.
"It'll be a pleasure." The scarred girl declares. "Consider it done."
"I'll go and collect Malachi." States Alex. "Then we'll come back for you. When you hear the 'copter, stand somewhere in the open, where we can see you."
Shannon nods, then sprints purposefully towards the main body of the mansion. As Alex watches her go, behind her the helicopter's turbine engine starts up with a low whine and the rotors slowly begin to rotate. The succubus turns and crouches to avoid the downwash of the blades as she runs to the aircraft, opens the co-pilot's door and clambers inside.

Cut to the exterior of the west wing. Ella and Thelma stand at the top of the granite stairs leading down to the cells, as the 4x4 into which Midge and the three other girls are crammed, with Leon driving, moves off. Sitting in the front passenger seat - the side of the vehicle facing Ella and Thelma - Midge pointedly sits staring straight ahead, not looking at the two women as the vehicle leaves them behind.
"Do you think she'll ever forgive us?" Thelma asks, but by the tone of her voice she clearly doesn't think it likely.
"I hope not." The Anointed One replies simply. "Why should we get off the hook so lightly?"
Both watch the 4x4 until it speeds out of sight. Thelma eventually breaks the silence;
"Okay, that's the civilians safely out the way. I suppose this is the bit where we go rescue the girl, defeat the bad guy, and save the world." She murmurs.
"It's what we do, Thelma." Ella confirms with a grim smile that her friend returns. "It's what we're for."
"Car." Thelma suddenly barks, jerking her head round, having heard an approaching vehicle.
While the ghost remains watching the direction from which the sound is coming, Ella grabs in each hand an ankle belonging to one of the guards whom Thelma rendered unconscious and whose bodies are still laid out on the ground. The immortal walks hurriedly as best she can to the stairs, dragging the limp forms of both men behind her, and disappears down the steps with her burden. A few seconds after Ella and the guards have dipped from view, the man sent by Kessel to check on the others' progress and find out why they're not answering the mobiles, drives around the corner of the building. As all the larger vehicles are being loaded with items salvaged from the mansion, the man is driving one of the oddities from Rachel's collection: a tiny Smart car.
The very small vehicle comes a halt a few feet away from the steps, and the driver opens the door and climbs out, looking around puzzled at the lack of any life or activity.
"And the hits just keep on coming." Remarks Thelma ruefully as she walks forward, tugging the hammer from her toolbelt and launching into a powerful double-handed swing.
The head of the hammer strikes the guard on his right temple with a sickening thud. His left leg immediately gives way, taking the right with it, and he falls to his knees. Without hesitation the ghost hits him again across the back of the head for good measure, and he collapses face-first onto the ground.
"Sorted." Thelma yells out to Ella, and the immortal sprints up the stairs.
The ghost jerks her thumb at the Smart;
"It'll be quicker to drive than walk." She suggests. "And I know a shortcut."
"A shortcut?" Ella queries, walking to the Smart with Thelma, the two of them eventually standing either side of the vehicle. "Surely the only route is skirting round the mansion and the south wing?"
"Who said anything about going around the mansion?" Thelma grins, raising an eyebrow.
"You mean go through it?" The Anointed One says incredulously, to which the ghost nods enthusiastically.
"But it's on fire!" Ella persists.
"Only bits of it." Thelma offers with a shrug.
The two of them look at each other for a moment, then turn their attention to the main building, fifty yards away, and it's large, heavy oak door.
"Looks solid." Observes Thelma.
Ella steps away from the Smart, and in one smooth movement she opens her coat, produces the two halves of the Volta, and snaps them together.
"Knock knock." Thelma says, watching as a bolt of energy streaks out from her friend's staff, rips the door from it's hinges, and throws it far into the mansion.
"All-purpose key. Opens any door. Never leave home without it." Comments Ella, disassembling the Volta.
Then the two women open the Smart's doors and duck inside.

Cut to Jo's bedroom. The ex-teacher is underneath Azazeal, her legs wrapped tightly around him.
"Harder!" She demands, laughing mockingly and taunting him as he thrusts into her. "HARDER!!"

Cut to the interior of the helicopter carrying Alex, as it flies at low altitude over the grounds, only three hundred feet up. Sitting next to the pilot, the succubus is intently studying the land below.
"There." Alex declares, pointing slightly to the left.
The pilot adjusts course accordingly, the helicopter passes over a thick line of trees, and the circle of standing stones come into view, dead ahead. Alex squints - Malachi seems to be standing very close to Amber Chase, and although everything is getting lighter as the dawn rapidly approaches, it's still slightly too dim for her to see clearly what's happening.
"Search-light." She commands, as the helicopter reaches the circle and hovers above it.
The pilot switches on the powerful searchlight situated under the nose of the aircraft. The beam of light is pointed straight ahead, but after a few seconds he adjusts it so that it swings down and illuminates the ground below. Alex gazes down and sees Malachi - the downdraft from the 'copter's blades violently tugging at his clothes and whipping at his hair. His body is pressed up against Amber's, his trousers and boxers round his ankles, his hands gripping her hips as he thrusts into her. Malachi looks up at the aircraft as it hovers overhead, and smiles a triumphant, savage, beaming smile, his eyes wild and gleaming.... knowing that it's his wife up there, knowing how much seeing this will anger her, both of them knowing there's nothing she can do, and also both knowing that despite this, she'll remain loyal. Malachi laughs savagely, the sound drowned out by the whine of the helicopter's turbine engine. Still tied by the wrists and ankles to the two metal poles impaled in the ground, and desperately straining against those bonds, a terrified Amber also stares up at the 'copter, her frantic, pleading eyes set in a tear-stained face. Although they are rendered as inaudible as Malachi's laughter, Alex is in no doubt that the girl is issuing forth muffled screams through the gag across her mouth.
Shocked, embarrassed and nervous, the pilot risks a brief glance at Alex, but otherwise concentrates on keeping the 'copter steady. After several seconds, the succubus speaks;
"It seems my husband is currently... indisposed." Alex murmurs, forcing herself to sound as calm as possible, her voice terse and robotic. "Circuit around the grounds a few times. We'll collect him when he's finished."
She almost spits the final word. Relived, the pilot rapidly banks the aircraft away. As the helicopter and the noise of it's engine both recede into the distance, a spent Malachi steps away from Amber and starts to pull up his boxers and trousers.
"Well, that broke the ice, don't you think?" He declares with a swagger. "And now that we're better acquainted, let's get started on this ritual."

Cut to the Smart speeding through the wide central corridor of the main building, Ella driving, Thelma in the passenger seat. Thin grey smoke is spreading through the mansion from those sections that are ablaze, and Ella has put the headlights on. Hearing the sound of heavy structural timbers and joists groaning in protest behind them, Ella glances into the rear-view mirror, just in time to see a large section of the corridor ceiling - that they’d passed under seconds earlier - collapse, bringing with it the burning floor from the storey above, like the fiery top layer of a cake. Still looking in the mirror, Ella is about to tell Thelma that she’s never navigating again, when –
“Ella!” Yells Thelma, and the Anointed One’s eyes dart ahead to see a fast-approaching shape appear in the misty smoke in front of them.
Charging down the corridor and shrieking with rage, Shannon performs a running leap, throwing herself at the Smart. Ella and Thelma both cry out as the succubus lands on top of the tiny car, arms and upper body on the roof, waist and lower limbs smacking into the front of the vehicle. Her grasping, bandaged fingers find a handhold and she clings on. Taken by surprise and her view blocked by Shannon’s legs, Ella veers to the right, and the Smart swipes the wall, ripping off the side mirror. The Anointed One tries to correct the vehicle’s course but overcompensates, and while still speeding forward the car swerves wildly across the width of the corridor, almost colliding with the wall on the left, but Ella manages to straighten up at the last moment.
Shannon cautiously releases her left hand, and once confident that she can still hold on with her right, she balls her left hand into a fist, and slowly moves her arm across the edge of the roof and down the side of the Smart. A split second later, Ella and Thelma again both cry out in surprise as the succubus punches the driver’s side window with all the strength she can muster. The glass doesn’t shatter, but it cobwebs and bends inward, two sizable shards knocked loose into the interior of the Smart: one bounces off Ella’s arm and disappears into the gap down the side of the seat, the other lands in the Anointed One’s lap.
“Thelma, take the wheel.” Ella barks calmly.
As the ghost leans across and obeys, Ella reaches down as best she can and pulls her dagger out of the scabbard on her right boot, as the Smart wavers across the corridor until Thelma is able to steady it. Shannon’s gauze-wrapped fist rears back and then hits the window again, impacting the glass further and causing several more shards to fly across the inside of the vehicle. As the succubus pulls her arm back to strike again, Ella points the dagger at the roof, holding it with one hand, the base of the palm of her other hand flat underneath the weapon, and pushes it upward as hard as she can. With a harsh metallic screech, the blade erupts through the top of the roof, right next to Shannon’s face, thinly cutting the skin on her jaw before burying itself deep into her cheek, slicing it wide open. Shrieking in pain and anger, the succubus loses her grip on the roof and immediately her body slides down the front of the Smart. As the soles of her Doc Martins touch the floor of the corridor, and it seems she’s about to be dragged under the tiny car, her right hand finds another handhold and she latches on.
Ella and Thelma are confronted by the sight of Shannon’s face pressed against the windscreen, her single eye glaring at them, blood from her gashed cheek smearing the glass. Secured by a handhold in the ridged mid-section of the roof, the succubus’s body is flattened against the front of the vehicle, her knees bent in order to lift her legs clear of the floor as she’s carried forward, the toes of her boots skimming the carpet. Ella takes the wheel as Thelma gazes in bemused acceptance at the she-creature clinging to the Smart as it hurtles down the smoke-filled corridor.
“There used to be a time when I would have found this strange.” The ghost muses.
Her bloody, pock-marked face contorted in anger and determination, Shannon lifts her left arm up onto the roof, secures herself with both hands, rears her head back, then butts the windscreen. Ella and Thelma both give a start, as the glass cracks from top to bottom. Grimacing with satisfaction, the succubus releases her hold with her right hand and moves her right shoulder away from the windscreen, angling her body. She throws her right arm back, bandaged fist clenched, aiming a blow at the jagged crack in the glass. Then the car runs out of corridor and smashes dead centre into the large double doors that lead to the exterior, and Shannon yelps in pain as she’s flung against the windscreen, which gives slightly. The doors were unlocked, so the impact causes them to swing violently open, one splintering along it’s outer edge, the other torn from it’s upper hinges, so it sways and tilters outwards when it finally comes to rest.
While the entrance that Ella and Thelma drove the car into was level to the ground, the mansion was built on a slight incline, so the doorway on this side is three feet up, with a short set of stone steps. Barely slowed by it’s collision with the doors, the Smart dips forward and bumps heavily down the steps at speed. The sudden increase in gravity – together with the added weight of Shannon clinging to the front - causes the vehicle to overbalance, and it rolls forward as it reaches the last step. The car lands on it’s front, Shannon wailing as she’s squashed underneath, the weakened windscreen partly giving way and shattering, with the succubus’s head, shoulders and right arm forced through the resulting jagged hole in the glass. The Smart’s forward momentum keeps it rolling, onto it’s roof, then it’s rear, until finally it collapses back onto all four wheels, it’s progress spent.
Ella and Thelma both sit looking stunned, now sharing the inside of the car with Shannon’s upper body. Wedged thorough the windscreen, the succubus was dragged through all 360 degrees of the roll, her legs frailing against the outside of the vehicle, and now her head and arm hang limply, her face covered by her long black hair.
“Well, that was interesting.” Murmurs Thelma, breaking the silence.
Almost as though on cue, Shannon’s head jerks up, her right fist lashing out and passing harmlessly thorough Thelma’s face, causing the ghost to yelp in surprise. Barely conscious – the attempted punch was mostly an automatic, nervous reaction as opposed to a premeditated act - the succubus looks dimly at the ghost, unable to focus. The eye patch has shifted onto her left temple, revealing an all-white eyeball, heavily bloodshot.
“You… owe me an eye…. bitch.” Slurs Shannon robotically.
“It’s in the mail.” Responds Ella, punching Shannon on the chin and causing the back of the succubus’s head to hit the interior of what’s left of the damaged windscreen with a loud crack.
Shannon’s head falls forward again and this time she remains still. After Ella and Thelma both undo their seatbelts, the Anointed One places the flat of her hand against the succubus’s mass of long dark hair, and firmly pushes the girl back out thorough the hole in the windscreen. Finally freed, an unconscious Shannon slumps onto the ground. Whereupon Thelma gives another start – with the succubus no longer blocking the view, the ghost has instantly become aware of a figure standing just a few feet away, directly in front of the Smart.
Roxy.

Cut to Jo's bedroom. The ex-teacher is straddling Azazeal, leaning back and sucking & licking her index finger as she rides him, staring at him, maintaining eye contract as she grinds her body against his, showing him no mercy...

Cut back to Ella and Thelma, climbing out of separate sides of the Smart and both looking at Roxy in surprise and bemusement.
“What are you doing here?” Exclaims Thelma.
As Roxy opens her mouth to speak, we cut to a montage of rapid scenes: Roxy peeking around the door to Malachi’s penthouse apartment in the new Church’s headquarters, spying on Jo and Perie talking in the overhang, in the pre-title scene in Episode #11; A helicopter sitting on the landing pad atop of the new Church’s headquarters, it’s rotors turning. Perie strides across the pad towards the aircraft, and as she does so, we see Roxy running crouched down towards it on the opposite side, carefully keeping the ‘copter between the faerie and herself. The ghost reaches the aircraft first, and gazes into the interior - when Perie opens the door closest to the nose of the ‘copter, Roxy does the same with the rear door on her side, but opening it only a fraction. Perie climbs into the seat next to the pilot, while Roxy squeezes through the slim opening and practically crawls into the back of the aircraft, keeping low and pulling the door quietly but firmly closed behind her, then nervously huddling herself tight into a ball in the foot-rest between the rear seats and those in which the pilot and the faerie are sitting; We next see the helicopter landing in a field in moonlit semi-darkness, the searchlight under it’s nose illuminating the ground. Perie climbs out of the aircraft, and Roxy does the same on the other side, again opening the door just wide enough to squeeze through, and timing the opening and shutting of the door to match Perie’s actions. Once her door is closed, the ghost flings herself to the ground and lays flat. The ‘copter takes off, and after a few seconds Roxy cautiously raises her head, looks about, and sees Perie walking away across the field, her back to the ghost. Roxy scrambles up and sets off after the faerie, staying semi-crouched and low to the ground, mindful of not getting too close.
We cut back to Roxy, explaining to Thelma and Ella;
“- but then the moon went behind some clouds, and I lost her in the darkness. Eventually I found a road, then heard a series of loud bangs coming from this direction. I reached a high wall and managed to scramble over it, and the noise and the glow of the flames led me here.”
"This woman who Jo sent here - what did she look like?" Asks Ella.
"Tall, slim, beautiful, with dark hair. Exotic looking. Had a foreign accent." Replies Roxy.
"Perie." Murmurs Thelma. "Perie's here."

Cut to the 4x4 containing Leon, Midge and the other three abducted girls, travelling along the wide gravel drive leading away from Rachel’s mansion. Leon is driving, Midge is in the front passenger seat, and the three girls are in the rear. The atmosphere is tense and noticeably silent. Self-consciously aware of Midge sitting alongside him, Leon is pretending to focus all his attention on the car’s progress along the drive. The female trio in the back are wide-eyed and nervous, relieved at being free from the cells, but still ignorant of what this is all about, and slightly wary of their apparent rescuers. Midge has pointedly not looked at, spoken to, or even acknowledged Leon since entering the vehicle, and has instead been looking intently at the wing mirror.
“Can’t see anyone following us.” She finally reports.
“Good.” Says Leon with a nod, relieved that the silence has been broken.
The light cast by the headlamps of the 4x4 reach a set of large, imposing, and very sturdy-looking metal railed gates, firmly closed. Leon brings the vehicle to a gentle halt, the engine idling. The sound of a heavy goods vehicle can be heard, coming from somewhere closeby, travelling down one of the lanes on the other side of the wall.
“What now? Ram them?” Enquiries Midge, nodding towards the gates, but Leon shakes his head;
“I think we’ll do more damage to the car than we’ll do to them.” He opines, then he turns to look at the three girls in the back seat. “We’re going to have to climb. Don’t worry, my car’s about ten minutes walk away.”
“Leon!” Midge suddenly yells out, and he spins his head, just in time to see a large, dark shape loom into view on the other side of the gates.
Then a pair of dazzling headlights, set on full beam, burst into life, blinding Leon and Midge, and a split second later the rig of an articulated, eighteen-wheeled truck ploughs into the gates. The metal screeches and buckles, the gate on the right almost doubling back on itself – but they were built to withstand heavy impacts, and although badly damaged, they do not collapse. Instead, the truck shudders to a halt, unable to proceed further and caught fast between the concertinaed gates like a fly in a web. The collision has shattered the vehicle’s headlights and radiator covering, and sheared off the front corners of the rig, reducing them to a gouged welter of metal. The doors either side of the driver’s cab are jammed tight against the twisted gates, making opening them impossible.
Still taken by surprise and not knowing how to react, Leon and Midge watch as the windscreen of the truck is suddenly hit by several gunshots coming from within the cab and fired in rapid succession, cobwebbing and weakening the glass. The sound of gunfire triggers a reaction in Leon, and he puts the 4x4 into reverse.
“Leon?” Murmurs Midge, as something in the cab strikes the damaged windscreen, knocking it out of it’s frame in one piece, so that it falls down onto the drive.
Two hands – wearing leather gloves, but clearly feminine - appear from within the cab, reaching up and grasping the top of the now-vacant frame, and then the occupant lifts and swings herself out of the rig, emerging feet first. She lands nimbly in a crouched position in front of the stationary truck, the windscreen lying behind her, one hand reaching forward so it's fingertips touch the gravel. The woman lifts her head and looks directly at Leon and Midge, the enigmatic smile on her face illuminated by the headlights of the 4x4.
“Crap.” Breathes Leon.
It’s Perie. The faerie has her hair tied up at the back, and is clad in a dark green leather jacket zipped up to her chin, and matching skintight trousers. But it's the other items she's wearing that catch Leon's attention. Two compact machine-pistols are holstered on her thighs, and two identical weapons sit in holsters under her arms, grips facing outwards. She has a pair of revolvers holstered to her lower legs, fastened around her black knee-high boots, and another object - larger than the other weapons - sits on her back, held there by a wide strap that runs around the left side of her neck and under her right arm. The faerie is also wearing a tight web harness, to which a collection of grenades and spare clips are attached. She looks like a walking gun store. The faerie stands upright - a movement that reminds Leon of a cobra uncoiling itself and rearing up - and lifts the wide strap over her head, freeing the item on her back and moving it to her right side, where she takes hold of it. It looks similar to the Thompson machine-guns that Leon saw in a couple of black & white gangster movies in Film Studies, but much bulkier, with a larger, wider barrel. He recognises it as a grenade launcher at the exact same moment that he realises Perie hasn't stopped looking directly at him since she exited the driver's cab, almost as though mesmerising him. The spell broken, Leon hits the accelerator and the 4x4 careers backwards.
"Go go go!" Yells Midge frantically, as Perie aims the grenade launcher at the retreating vehicle.
The faerie is preparing to fire from the hip, but as the 4x4 continues to speed away from her, she lifts the weapon to her shoulder, knowing that a higher trajectory is now needed to compensate for both the additional gravitational pull and gradual loss of forward kinetic energy as the projectile travels the increased distance to the target. The smile having never left her face, she pulls the trigger.
Leon doesn't see the impact or hear the explosion, but as the windscreen blows inward and the front of the 4x4 suddenly rears up, as though the vehicle was a toy that's been kicked by a child having a tantrum, logic tells him that they've been hit. He's reflecting on how strangely calm he feels when his head slams against the roof, and he suddenly realises as the 4x4 is tossed through the air that in their haste to leave the mansion behind, neither he or any of the girls remembered to put their seatbelts on. Typical, he thinks: How bloody stu-
The screen goes black.

End of Part Two.

[fenris]

Part Three.

Cut to Ella, Thelma and Roxy, outside the south entrance of the mansion's central building.
"Oh, and I've found out who this place belongs to." Reports Roxy. "It's -"
"Rachel McBain. We already know." Interjects Thelma.
"Oh." Murmurs Roxy, slightly surprised.
"Thelma went snooping earlier." Explains Ella.
"You recognised her from her portrait? The one that used to hang in the dining hall?" Roxy asks her fellow ghost.
"The very same." Nods Thelma.
"So... how is she still alive? I mean, she's supposed to have died centuries ago." Roxy queries.
"Don't know, don't care." Thelma declares. "Right now we've got other things to worry about. Malachi still has one of the hostages."
"Well, there's something else I've learnt." Offers Roxy. "She's quitting this place. Rachel McBain, I mean. She's leaving."
"How do you know this?" Asks Ella.
"I was looking about for you and Leon. Instead, I found her in a control room, trying to take charge of the fire-fighting. I was standing right behind her when she phoned one of her people and told them she was leaving. She's taking a helicopter."
Ella and Thelma exchange a look, processing this new information.
"You have to stop her." Thelma tells the Anointed One, making the decision for both of them. "It has to end here, tonight. If she gets away, she'll cause all of this to kick off again in the future. Besides, you and she have unfinished business."
Ella weighs up the ghost's words, then nods;
"It's time to lay the McBains to rest." She agrees.
"It's what you do, Ella Dee. It's what you're for." Thelma comments with a quiet, understanding smile, which the Anointed One returns.
Then both of them are all business again.
"Malachi and Amber Chase?" Ella queries.
"Leave it to me. I can handle it." Thelma replies.
Ella acknowledges this with another nod, then looks at Roxy;
"Where's this helicopter?" She asks, but the ghost shrugs apologetically.
"I don't know. I've not seen it." Roxy says.
"I have." Declares Thelma. "There's a massive courtyard that they're using as a landing pad. It's on the north side of the mansion. Quickest way there is back through the main building."
The Anointed One turns and looks at the central part of the house: thick black smoke is pouring out of the windows on the top two floors and heading straight up into the brightening pre-dawn sky. The flames can clearly be heard, together with the occasional sound of walls and sections of floor collapsing.
"There isn't another route?" Ella asks.
"Just go through the basement." Thelma insists, pointing to a set of stone steps descending underground, identical to the ones that led to the cells under the west wing. "There's a corridor on the right that leads straight under the house to the north side. If you hurry, it should be safe. Take this, in case the fire's taken the power off and the lights aren't working."
The ghost removes the thick, elasticated black headband that she's been wearing, to which is clipped a small, oblong-shaped torchlight that's been resting on her forehead. She tosses it to Ella, who catches it and puts it on. Thelma then pulls a spare torch out of her toolbelt and hands it to Roxy.
"You'd better have that. One might not be enough." Thelma tells her fellow ghost.
Roxy looks at her non-comprehendingly.
"You're going with Ella." States Thelma. "I'm already dead, but she's not, so she needs someone to watch her back. And you're nominated. Unless you've got other plans?"
"No. No." Murmurs Roxy, surprised but clearly pleased that she's being trusted.
"Right. Meet you back at the west wall?" Thelma suggests to Ella.
"Agreed." Says the Anointed One. "Good luck Thelma."
"You too." Replies the ghost, and she turns back to the Smart.
"Wait!" Yells Roxy, as Thelma is about to open the door on the driver's side.
The ghost hurries around the car, walks up to Thelma, and - to the surprise of both Thelma and Ella - kisses and embraces her passionately. Initially taken aback, after a couple of seconds Thelma responds, wrapping her own arms around the other spirit and returning the kiss hungrily. Ella gazes at them and raises an amused eyebrow. Several seconds pass, then Roxy breaks off the kiss and immediately looks down, as though embarrassed. There's an air of awkwardness as the ghosts take a half-step back from one another, their arms slipping smoothly past each other's.
"Sorry." Roxy murmurs, still looking down.
She risks a quick glance at Thelma;
"It's just that... I've not had any human contact since I died." Roxy continues guiltily. "I've not been touched, or -"
"Whoa! Stop right there." Declares Thelma with a grin. "Anyone who kisses like that should never apologise."
She moves slightly closer to Roxy, and adds a conspiratorial tone to her voice;
"That wasn't the first time you'll kissed a girl, was it?"
"No." Roxy confesses with a coy smile.
"Well, trust me Davenport," Thelma announces as she opens the driver's door of the Smart and climbs inside, "if I have anything to do with it, it definitely won't be the last time either."
Ella bends down and taps on the passenger side window, and Thelma reaches over and winds it down a few inches.
“Thelma, listen to me.” Says the Anointed One through the gap, with a note of urgency in her voice. “If you get there too late, and Malachi’s already extracted his lifeforce from Amber, but hasn’t reabsorbed it into himself, whatever you do, don’t touch it.”
“But I can’t touch anything that’s alive.” Thelma counters.
“You can’t touch anything living, no.” Confirms Ella. “But this will be Life itself, without physical form. As intangible as you are.”
“And me touching it would be bad, right?” Murmurs Thelma.
“You’re dead, Thelma.” Ella states simply. “Life and death don’t mix.”
Thelma nods in acknowledgement, then starts the tiny car, steers around the prone Shannon and sets off in the direction of the stone circle. As Roxy watches the Smart speed off, Ella walks over to her.
"So." The Anointed One says with a knowing smile.
"Yes." Roxy replies, with a self-conscious half-shrug, then a thought occurs to her, and she turns to Ella with a look of concern;
"Oh - I gave her tongue." The ghost blurts out. "I just got carried away. Too soon?"
"No no." Ella assures her with a shake of the head and wave of the hand.
"Good. Thank you." Roxy says, relieved.
"You're welcome." The Anointed One murmurs. "Let's go kill Rachel McBain."

Cut to Jo's bedroom. The ex-teacher is still riding Azazeal, her hair flying as her movements become increasingly more frenzed, squealing and rapidly moving her finger in and out of her mouth...

Cut to inside the 4x4 containing Leon, Midge and the other three girls. The vehicle is lying on it's roof, and broken glass from the shattered front and back windscreens and side windows is carpeting the interior. Leon is lying on his right side, apparently unconscious, his head resting on the car's internal ceiling. Several small fragments of glass are embedded in his face, and he's bleeding from a large gash in his forehead. His right arm is scretched out behind his head, the hand covered in blood. It's obvious that some of his fingers are broken. Midge is lying face down, unmoving, across his legs. Somewhere in the back of the vehicle, off-camera, one of the girls is screaming in pain and shrilly crying out for help, while another is semi-conscious and every few seconds murmurs something incoherent.
...crunch...crunch...crunch... Visible though the opening that used to house the front windscreen, a pair of black high-heeled boots approach the 4x4 across the gravel. They stop right in front of the vehicle, and Perie crouches down and peers inside, tilting her head as she does so. The grenade launcher is again resting across her back. Still smiling, she calmly and unhurriedly gazes around the interior, then reaches in and takes hold of Leon's right wrist. Leon stirs and moans as the faerie pulls him out from under Midge and across the mass of broken glass, dragging him free of the vehicle and onto the gravel. Having pulled him several feet clear of the 4x4, the faerie leaves him and goes back to the vehicle, crouching down again. She observes the screaming girl who's still begging for help, the other two captives in the back, and Midge lying sprawled in the front. Removing the revolver from the holster around her lower left leg, Perie points it inside the vehicle, towards the rear, and - BANG.
The screaming abruptly stops mid-note. Reholstering the weapon, the faerie straightens and walks round to the back of the vehicle. Pulling open the boot - which due to the upside-down nature of the 4x4, now opens down instead of up - she looks inside, reaches in and produces a green plastic First Aid box. Leaving the boot lid resting on the gravel, the faerie walks back to Leon. Taking hold of the collar of his jacket with her left hand, she drags him towards a solitary tree placed twenty yards back from the drive, and upon reaching it, places his limp frame in a sitting position against it's trunk. Crouching on one knee in front of him, the faerie studies his slackened features and closed eyes with interest.
"The Anointed One's pet." Perie announces, her voice like silk, then she slaps him sharply across both sides of his face.
Leon eyelids twitch, he mumbles and fidgets, and raises his hands in a vague, uncoordinated attempt to ward off further blows, but he is clearly far from being fully conscious and aware.
"Some clarity of mind is required." The faerie observes, and she leans in and kisses him full on the mouth.
As Perie's lips physically make contact with Leon's, her face suddenly glows, and countless minute golden particles emerge from her skin and wash over him. Leon's eyes spring open - he's instantly wide awake. The faerie breaks off the kiss;
"You were in need of stimulation." She says by way of explanation.
Leon looks about, getting his bearings. He points at the glowing particles, still swirlling all about him;
"What is this stuff?" He blurts out.
"Faerie dust." Answers Perie, in a tone of voice clearly indicating that she thought this was obvious.
Then she softly breathes in, and the cloud of simmering dust disappears into her nostrils and partly-open mouth almost instantaneously, as though sucked up by an industrial vacuum cleaner.
"You taste familar." The faerie continues without missing a beat. "I recall us meeting previously, when you assisted the Anointed One in her escape from incarceration. But have you and I ever had cause to be physical on another occasion?"
"Yes. In Berlin. Pre-war." Murmurs Leon, knowing there's nothing to be gained by lying.
"I remember." Perie declares, recognition showing in her eyes, smile unwavering. "A most impressive and rewarding session. At it's conclusion, I granted you a kiss to express my gratitude and permit you a reward. I was most disappointed that you never returned for further experiences. I planned to make you one of my favourities. I intended to explore your limitations, expand your horizons, and extend your thresholds."
"Sounds like I had a lucky escape." Leon mutters.
"That is open to question." The faerie opines. "I assume your presense there was due to chronological displacement?"
He looks at her dumbfounded.
"Time travel." She clarifies.
Leon nods, and the faerie observes him for a moment longer, remembering. Leon moves as though to get up, but gasps in pain.
"You appear to have fractured your right arm" Perie informs him, "and three fingers on that hand. You have also fractured your left leg."
She gazes down at the limb in question and firmly squeezes it halfway down the shin, causing Leon to cry out.
"In two places." She concludes.
The faerie opens the First Aid box and produces a pair of scissors. Leon eyes them apprehensively, and she catches his gaze.
"Your concern is understandable, but unnecessary." Perie assures him. "As you may recall, I am a fully qualified nurse."
Still smiling, she holds up the scissors and pointedly opens and then closes the blades with a loud snip. Leon swallows nervously.
"More than adequate." Perie comments, examining the contents of the box."On many occasions I have had to work with substantially less. I have scoured battlefields and tended to the wounded for over two millenium."
"You've helped people?" Leon asks, surprised.
"Is such a concept difficult to comprehend?" The faerie counters, her calm smile never flickering. "My kind have always stewarded the human race in various guises. I personally lean towards causing pain and suffering. It is both my nature and my calling. When a primitive buried an animal bone into another's skull and invented murder, he did so out of jealousy, to gain ownership of me. Multitudes beyond number have since fought and killed for me. I have been worshipped as a goddess, inspired as a muse, and even loved as a woman. Men have murdered their wives, merely to have me for a night. Kings and emperors have taken nations to war and put entire civilizations to the sword, merely to gain my favour. I have observed metropolis being razed to the ground, and bathed in rivers red with blood. Empires have fallen in my name. And when there were no more lands to conquer, I have buried the dead, treated the casualities, and waited for the cycle to begin again."
She reaches out and gently strokes her warm, soft fingers against the side of Leon's face, taking care to avoid the glass embedded there.
"Mankind. My favourite plaything." The faerie declares.
Leon tries to digest this as he watches Perie return to searching through the First Aid kit.
"You should help the others first." He insists, nodding towards the 4x4. "They might be seriously hurt."
"Your companions are not my immediate concern." The faerie says. "Now remain as stationary as possible."

Cut to Ella and Roxy walking briskly through the underground passageway. Noticing that the ghost keeps glancing sideways at her, Ella decides to address whatever’s bothering her companion;
“Anything you want to ask me, Roxy? It's okay.” She says, having already taken an educated guess as to what the brunette will say.
“It’s just strange seeing you again,” murmurs Roxy, “knowing what I now know.”
“How so?” Ella asks.
“I've often heard Jo talking about you.” Explains the ghost. “She describes you being as the Right Hand of God. She said you're the physical manifestation of His power on Earth.”
“I am His instrument.” Ella concedes. “Although we haven’t been on speaking terms lately.”
“So... what's God like?” Roxy enquiries cautiously.
“I've never talked to him direct.” The Anointed One clarifies. “Any instructions or information always comes through third parties, such as angels or mediums. Plus occasionally He uses signs and potents – burning bushes, messages lit up in the clouds, talking statues, that kind of thing. But if you're asking what he's like as an employer..."
"Yes?" Says Roxy expectantly.
"In my experience, he's an impatient sexist bully who expects miracles." Ella declares flatly.
"Oh." The ghost murmurs, slightly chestfallen.
The two women walk in silence for several seconds.
"Feel free to tell me it's none of my business, but that moment between you and Thelma back there. Care to expand?" Ella ventures.
Roxy glances at the floor and smiles demurely. If she had any blood in her veins, she'd be blushing.
"Oh, that. Well... Gemma and I used to experiment. Together. Enough times for her to realise that she wasn't bi, and for me to realise that I definitely was." The ghost explains
"I understand." The Anointed One says with a reassuring grin, but then she adds a serious tone to her voice: "Thelma's my friend, Roxy. I don't want her hurt."
"I think I'm the one who's at risk of being hurt." The ghost murmurs. "I used to have a.. a crush I suppose, on Thelma. At Medenham, before she died."
"She's never said. Did she know?" Ella asks.
Roxy slows and stops, gazing at the floor, remembering. The Anointed One comes to a halt beside her.
"No. I never acted on it. Never gave her reason to.. Nothing could have happened, anyway." The brunette declares. "We were total opposites. I knew she'd never feel the same. She was so free, and... there was so much expected of me. So I did my bitch act and distanced myself from her."
She looks at Ella and smiles sadly;
"When they found her in the lake, I was all flippant in public. I made jokes about her topping herself and acted as though I didn't give a damn. Ice Cold Davenport, that's what they called me. Then I went to my room, locked the door, hugged my teddy bear and cried for two whole hours." The spectre confesses.
Despite knowing that Roxy is in the midst of unburdening herself of a deeply personal secret, Ella still has to suppress a smile at the thought of ultra-aware and self-confident Roxanne Davenport covertly having a teddy bear.
"And it was after Thelma died that you experimented with Gemma?" The Anointed One asks gently.
"I wanted to know if what I felt for her was just a one-off, or if I could feel that way about other women." The ghost nods. "So a few nights later I went out with Gemma, and made sure we both got tipsy - not drunk, still aware of what we were doing. Then I dragged her back to my room and jumped on her. If she'd said no, I would have stopped. But she didn't. She was curious too."
"And that was your first time with a woman?" Ella enquiries softly.
"Yes. Like I said, we slept together a few times after that, until Gemma decided it wasn't for her. It was nice, being with Gemma. But although I liked her, it wasn't anywhere near what I'd felt for Thelma." Roxy confirms. "Meanwhile, I kept being a stone cold bitch by day. I'd lead boys on, screw them senseless, publicly dump them the next morning, and tell everyone they were a crap lay. I'd seduce male teachers, then blackmail them for better grades. I did it because I knew men found me desirable. I did it because I could."
"You were hardly the first attractive girl to use her looks and exploit the power she had over men." The Anointed One offers.
"Maybe not. But then Jez killed himself and suddenly it wasn't a game anymore. I realised the immensity of what I was doing. My actions were ruining lives - had ended a life." The ghost recalls sadly (Ella goes to say something, but thinks better of it). "I had to repent." Roxy concludes.
"And you've redeemed yourself, Roxy." The Anointed One assures her. "Whatever wrongs you think you were responsble for in life, you've more than made up for, believe me."
"I just hope that's true." The spectre murmurs. "All I know now is that I've got another chance with Thelma, and I'm scared to death, for lack of a better term. I don't want to be too full on, I might scare her off. What should I do?"
Ella thinks carefully before replying;
"Roxy, I haven't seen Thelma that relaxed with someone as she was back there with you, for... well, a long time." The Anointed One states reassuringly. "If you're genuine with her, she will be in return. She's good like that. It'll be fine, you're see."
Roxy accepts this with a hopeful nod.
"Come on, let's go." Ella says with a grin, and the two of them continue down the passageway.
"So who is this Perie person?" The ghost enquires, skillfully changing the subject.
"Let's just say she's bad news." Ella replies. "Whenever she turns up, something bad happens."
"So.... a bit like you then?" Roxy suggests warily, risking another sideways glance at the Anointed One.
Ella smiles grimly at the irony;
"Yes." She agrees. "A bit like me."

End of Part Three.

[fenris]

Part Four.

Cut back to Leon and Perie. The faerie has cut material from Leon's jacket to make a sling for his broken arm, used bandages to secure twigs against his injured fingers as makeshift splints, and snapped off a thin but sturdy tree branch to make a splint for his left leg, tied firmly in place with the laces from his trainers. She has also plucked out the slivers of glass decorating his face. Crouching in front of her patient, she surveys her handiwork.
"Why are you doing this? Helping me?" Leon asks her.
Perie tilts her head slightly, considers his query for a moment, then stands up.
"You have a benefactor. A guardian angel, though not in the literal sense." She informs him. "Someone who bargained for your life, despite having no life of their own to give."
"So I owe this person my thanks, not you." States Leon, to which the faerie gives a graceful nod.
"Will you see to the others now?" Leon asks, indicating the 4x4.
"Indeed. I have very specific instructions where they are concerned." She confirms, lifting the strap over her head and moving the grenade launcher off her back.
We quickly see a black & white flashback to Episode #11, with Jo and Perie in Malachi's penthouse, the ex-teacher handing the faerie a folder containing several photos.
"You must ensure that these individuals” Jo says, tapping the top of the folder with her forefinger “do not leave that mansion alive.”
Previously we couldn't see the photos clearly, but now we can. They're pictures of Midge, Amber Chase, and the other three kidnapped girls.
Cut back to the present, in colour. We're now inside the upside-down 4x4. Midge is lying on her front amongst the broken glass, her face pointing towards the camera. Her eyelids flicker and she mumbles, then her eyes slowly open fully. Blinking, she looks about, moves her arms and tries to raise herself onto her elbows, but winces and gasps in pain. She rests back down on the upturned roof. She glances about again at her surroundings. The camera switches to her Point Of View, and through the opening that used to be the driver's side window she sees Perie and Leon about twenty yards away. Leon is sitting against a tree, looking bashed about and with his arm in a sling, while Perie in standing in front of him, wearing sprayed-on dark green leather and laden with automatic weapons. The two of them seem to be talking, but they're too far away for Midge to make out what's being said. Then Perie turns, smiling, holding something in both hands, and points it directly at the 4x4. Behind the faerie Leon is shouting, and Midge can faintly hear it;
"NNNOOOO!!"
The object that Perie is aiming makes a low coughing sound, and in the final spilt second, realisation collides with one last thought in Midge's mind, to which she gives voice;
"balls." She mutters.
The camera cuts back to Leon and Perie, as twenty yeads away the grenade hits the 4x4 and detonates. The vehicle shifts on the gravel as though nudged by a giant's foot, and there's a sound that's part-thunderclap, part-metallic screech as all the doors are torn off, twisted and blown outwards - away from the 4x4 - by the explosion. Also ejected outwards is a mass of glass fragments, a welter of metal and plastic debris, and coppery wet pieces of human tissue. Leon watches, helpless and sickened, knowing that some of the cloud of matter that is raining down on the gravel and grass around the vehicle used to be Midge. Then the petrol tank ignites, there's a whoosh and the 4x4 is rocked again as it's engulfed in a fireball. For a few seconds Perie observes the vehicle burning, then she turns and casually looks at Leon. Her smile hasn't wavered.
"I have completed the task I was assigned." She announces. "My mission is accomplished. My time is therefore now my own. And I wish to see what enjoyment this place can offer me."
Leon goes to say something, but the faerie steps towards him, leans down and applies pressure with her index finger to a specific point on his left temple. He instantly lapses into unconsciousness and his head slumps forward.
"I recommend plenty of rest." Perie declares.
She turns and - without a backward glance - walks off along the drive, in the direction of the mansion.

Cut to Jo's bedroom. The ex-teacher is lying on top of Azazeal, purring in her afterglow.
"Do you know what I enjoy most about having sex with you?" She murmurs.
"Shall I write a list?" The Nephilm replies wryly, and Jo raises her head and playfully punches him in the ribs.
"I'm serious." She insists.
"Alright. Enlighten me." He says, humouring her.
Jo crosses her arms on his chest and rests her chin on them, looking at him as she speaks;
"You're an angel. One of the Architects of Creation. You stood beside God and helped form and mould the universe with your own hands."
Uncrossing her arms, she reaches for both of his hands and takes hold of them, pressing her palms against his and interlocking fingers.
"These hands." She continues.
Releasing his right hand, Jo rolls off Azazeal and onto her back, next to him. She guides his left hand inbetween her legs.
"So when you touch me with your hands," she wavers, closing her eyes "when I feel you inside me... it's the closest thing there is to screwing God."
Azazeal's smile grows more wolfish as Jo gasps and archs her back.

Cut to the eastern side of the mansion. The last of the possessions that have been saved from the flames are being placed inside various vehicles from Rachel's collection. Kessel walks along the length of the convoy.
"Complete the loading." She instructs loudly to the dozen or so men who are moving the artifacts quickly but carefully. "I'll go ahead and make sure the driveway's clear. Follow me when you're finished."
She reaches the head of the convoy, where a gleaming white E-type Jaguar sits. Climbing into the classic car, Kessel starts the engine and goes roaring off, speeding round the corner of the wing and joining the mansion's gravel drive, which branches off from the main entrance and covers this side of the building. A couple of seconds after the E-type has passed the first of the trees that line the drive, Perie steps into view, having ducked behind the tree at the sound of an approaching vehicle, wanting to gauge what numbers she was facing before deciding on a course of action. Seeing it is one car with a single occupant, she levels her grenade launcher at the rear of the rapidly receding E-type... then thinks better of it. Best to save her ammunition for the more plentiful targets that undoubtably await her at the mansion, just up ahead.
"Fly away, little bird." The faerie advises, gazing at the Jaguar as it disappears from sight.
She lets the grenade launcher drop to her side, then turns and walks unhurriedy towards the curve in the drive that leads to the eastern side of the main building.

Cut to Ella and Roxy hurriedly making their way up the exterior steps leading out of the basement on the north-facing side of the mansion’s central building. The sound of a helicopter’s engine and rapidly turning blades can be heard, very close by. The two girls reach ground level at the top of the steps. Stretching out to their right is the large two-sided courtyard that doubles as the landing pad, with Rachel’s helicopter sitting slightly off-centre, ready for take off. Walking across the courtyard’s smooth surface, Rachel McBain is only ten feet away from the aircraft, having to crouch slightly due to the downdraft from the rotors. Spotting the Lady of the Manor, Ella immediately sprints off across the courtyard with Roxy at her heels. The noise of the helicopter drowns out Ella’s footfalls, but glimpsing movement out of the corner of her eye, Rachel turns her head and sees the Anointed One running towards her. Stunned recognition shows on Lady McBain’s features as her eyes widen and her jaw noticeably clenches, but displaying the instincts that have kept her alive for almost three centuries, she immediately recovers and covers the last few feet to the helicopter in an instant, pulling open the rear door and throwing herself inside.
“UP! Take us up NOW!” She yells at the pilot.
The aircraft lifts off, rising shakily in the air as Rachel reaches back and slams the door shut. Still a good thirty yards away, Ella brings her run down to a jog and then halts, Roxy skidding to a stop alongside her, and together the two girls watch the helicopter’s altitude slowly increase. Inside the craft, a relieved Rachel clambers into a seat, pauses for a moment composing herself and letting out a deep breath, then looks down at her lifelong enemy through the rear door’s plexiglass window. Smiling smugly, she blows Ella a kiss.
Her face unreadable, the Anointed One abruptly turns and walks briskly away. Not knowing what else to do, Roxy simply follows. After several seconds, Ella stops and spins round, producing the two segments of Volta staff from underneath her coat, bringing them aloft in front of her and snapping it together, all in one smooth movement. Inside the helicopter, Rachel’s eyes again grow wide, this time in realisation, as Ella – the same unreadable expression set on her face like stone – unleashes an energy bolt at the front of the aircraft. The helicopter’s windows burst, the controls and instruments explode in a mass of sparks and splinters of glass, and the pilot’s body jerks and spasms as he’s repeatedly hit by dancing streams of energy that coil and undulate around the inside of the aircraft. In the rear, Rachel screams helplessly and protectively flings her arms across her face.
Ella and Roxy watch as the stricken helicopter banks slightly, dipping it’s rotors on the side facing them, before suddenly dropping like a rock. The rotors strike the landing pad first, and a three foot long section of blade sheers off and flies directly towards the two girls. Ella instantly throws herself to the ground, and the broken blade whizzes over her and passes straight through Roxy’s waist, causing the ghost to produce an impressively loud squeak of alarm. The helicopter’s fuselage collides with the ground with a sharp, heavy crump of metal, as behind Roxy the section of rotor blade strikes the surface of the courtyard and yields a scattering of sparks along it’s edge, as the impact and the blade’s remaining momentum cause it to spin back into the air like a flipped coin.
Lying face down, Ella raises herself on her elbows and looks back at Roxy;
“Are you okay?” The Anointed One asks, before smiling ruefully and correcting herself: “Sorry. Silly question.”
Appearing somewhat stunned, Roxy is slowly running her hands over her waist, gazing down at her body and then looking round at the rotor blade segment, which has finally come to rest some distance behind her.
“Yes… I’m… fine.” The ghost mumbles absently, as though having not heard everything that Ella said.
The Anointed One gets to her feet and regards the downed helicopter, the fuselage of which has mostly held together in one piece. The craft’s engines are still supplying power to the tail rotor, which is impotently spinning at full speed, looking like a blurry disc as it cuts through the air, it’s safety cover having been broken off by the crash.
“So… what’s that?” Roxy asks, having come to terms with surviving her own dismemberment – figuratively speaking - and pointing at the Volta.
“Multi-purpose key.” Says Ella matter-of-factly, detaching the staff and storing both segments back within her coat. “Opens any door.”
The Anointed One looks again the wrecked aircraft.
“Has a hundred and one other uses.” She adds grimly. “Never leave home without it.”
The pilot is visible within the wrecked cockpit, lifeless but held in place by his seatbelt, head slumped forward, his skin visibly burnt, clothes smouldering and emitting wispy smoke. Cooked meat, thinks Ella.
Then the rear door facing the Anointed One and the ghost falls off it’s hinges, and Rachel McBain almost follows it, but she shoots out an arm, grabs the doorframe, and manages to steady herself. She hadn’t put on a seatbelt, so when the helicopter fell she was thrown up against the roof of the interior, then back down across the seats and the floor when the aircraft hit the ground. Blood is pouring down one side of her face, from a deep gash across her scalp, effectively blinding her in one eye. With her other eye she glares at Ella, her face contorted in anger.
“Ella…Dee. Anointed Bitch!” She spits loudly.
Attempting to exit the helicopter, her legs fail her and she sprawls to her left, towards the aircraft’s tail, scraping the palms of her hands on the surface of the landing pad. Ella calmly starts walking towards her, but Roxy hangs back, an apprehensive look on her face. Dazed, Rachel shakes her head to waken herself. Slowly scrambling to her feet, she glances at the approaching Anointed One, then reaches down and parts her dress where it is slit below the waist to reveal a compact .22 pistol in a holster strapped to her right thigh. Tugging the gun loose, she levels it at Ella, smiles giddily in triumph, and pulls the trigger.
Click.
Rachel’s good eye widens and panic shows on her face. She pulls the trigger again and again as Ella walks up to her - click, click, click, click – until the Anointed One reaches out with her left hand, calmly takes hold of Rachel’s right wrist, and breaks it with a simple twist. Bones audibly snap and Rachel howls in pain, the pistol falling out of her fingers and hitting the ground. Ella kicks the gun away, and it skids nearly twenty feet across the slick courtyard surface.
“Safety catch.” Explains Ella, over the sound of the tail rotor. “Easy mistake to make when you rely on others to do your killing for you.”
Rachel grins bitterly;
“Like God you mean?” She glares.
“Just so.” Agrees Ella calmly.
As the Anointed One still has hold of her right arm, Rachel lunges at Ella’s face with her left hand, but Ella is ready, and grabs the immortal’s left wrist. Then, before Rachel can react, Ella headbutts her in the face. Rachel’s head rolls back, blood spurting out of her nose. If Ella wasn’t still holding her arms, she probably would have fallen. As her head sways forward again, Rachel stares at the Anointed One with undiluted anger;
“You slaughtered my entire coven.” The immortal hisses.
“And you were about to sell out your last remaining family to Malachi.” Ella counters. “Don’t expect a halo.”
Rachel responds by spitting a mouthful of blood at her enemy. Ella doesn’t flinch as it hits her chin and mouth. Instead, she merely twists her right hand, breaking Rachel’s other wrist. As the immortal cries out, Ella deftly shifts her hold to further up Rachel's forearm, then suddenly twists, jerks and pulls with surprising force, expertly dislocating the woman's shoulder. Rachel yells, and the Anointed One releases her arm, which hangs uselessly. With her right hand now free, Ella produces a dagger from within the folds of her coat, and purposefully taps the tip of the weapon against Rachel’s cheek.
“Recognise it?” The Anointed One asks.
Rachel risks a quick glance at the blade, then defiantly looks Ella in the eye;
“The Knife of Orokiah.” Lady McBain declares. “You used it to kill my entire bloodline.”
“Not quite.” Ella replies, lowering the knife slightly, then plunging it into Rachel’s neck in an upward trajectory, up to the hilt.
Rachel’s eyes – including the one gummed up with blood – open wide and seem to bulge in their sockets, lit up from within, blazing with pain and realisation. A barely-noticeable shudder runs the length of her body, as her lips curl back from her teeth and a hissing, rasping breath escapes from between them. The Anointed One emotionlessly regards her stricken opponent for a moment.
“Now I have.” Ella murmurs, then she pulls out the knife, releases her hold on the woman’s wrist, and unleashes a high kick that hits Rachel between the breasts and knocks her backwards into the blades of the tail rotor.
The camera briefly cuts to Roxy, as the ghost grimaces, then returns to Ella, as the Anointed One instantly shuts her eyes and turns her head to one side, to prevent having any of the blood and tiny pieces of bone and tissue that are spraying thinly over her getting into her eyes. What’s left of Rachel McBain – her legs and part of her lower torso – collapses onto the ground. Ella grants her enemy’s remains the briefest of glances, then turns and walks back to Roxy. The ghost is visibly lost for words as she gazes at her friend – the Anointed One is covered in droplets of blood and slimy, wet particles of human matter.
“I am God’s Assassin, Roxy.” States Ella simply, in response to the ghost’s discomfort. “Welcome to my world.”
Almost as though on cue, a series of explosions - so close together that they overlap and are difficult to differentiate - can be heard coming from a reasonable distance away. Roxy and Ella look in the direction the noise is coming from - the east.
"Those aren't ours, are they?" Roxy queries.
"No." Says Ella warily.
A few seconds later, as both ghost and Anointed One strain their ears, the fainter sound of automatic gunfire reaches them.
"It's Perie." Ella murmurs.

Cut to the eastern side of the mansion, and the camera pans across a scene of carnage. The various vehicles are lying flipped onto their sides, fully upturned on their roofs, in flames, blown apart, or a combination therefore. The priceless artifacts they were carrying are scattered about on the ground, shattered and broken. Lying alongside and amongst them are the lifeless bodies of Rachel's men, also either burning, bullet-ridden, or torn apart by the explosions. Most are missing one or more limbs. Perie's high-heeled boots step into frame, walking amongst the debris and spent bullet castings that litter the ground. She eventually comes to a halt by one of the bodies, which is lying face down and lacking the more extreme signs of damage displayed by most of the others. The faere reaches down, takes hold of the back of the collar of the man's jacket, and with one swift movement - displaying surprising strength - pulls him to his feet. The man cries out, more from fear than pain.
"There is absolutely nothing to be gained by feigning being dead." Perie informs him, pressing the barrel of the machine-pistol that she's holding in her other hand against his stomach. "My eyes are not restricted to the spectrum that you are limited to. I can see Life itself, as bright as neon."
Before the man can react, she suddenly pokes the gun downwards, shoving it inside the waistband of his trousers and pressing the tip of the barrel against his groin.
"Sometimes it can actually be a slight discomfort. If I am in close proximity with multiple lifeforms for any prolonged period of time, the constant glare can make my eyes become mildly irritated. On occasion, I have been known to wear darkened spectacles until they adjust." The faerie continues. "The only alternative is to extinguish the source of the illumination."
"Wha - what?" The dazed man splutters.
Perie replies by pulling the trigger and emptying the reminder of the clip into him, so that round after round bloodily explodes out of his buttocks and inbetween his legs in a mass of torn flesh and bone splinters. The faerie lets go of his collar and the man collapses like the dead weight he has become. Casually dropping the empty machine-pistol, Perie slowly and gracefully turns round in a complete circle, gazing at the destruction she has wrought, then nods in satisfaction.
"Lights out." She declares.

End of Part Four.

[fenris]

Part Five.

Cut to Leon in close up, still unconscious and propped up in a sitting position against the tree. A hand suddenly slaps him quick and hard, several times. His eyes flicker and open, and the camera switches to his Point Of View: his vision is blurry, but it starts to clear and he sees a figure - a woman - tall and slim, standing in front of him. She’s also holding a revolver in her right hand, pointed directly at him. At first he thinks it’s Perie, but then he focuses on the massive breasts that are barely contained by the woman’s low cut top. Not Perie then, thinks Leon, although the faerie had nothing to be ashamed of in that department. But seeing the impressive bust hovering over him causes the last piece of the jigsaw to slot into place;
“Big Janice.” He murmurs in recognition.
“Leon Taylor.” Kessel replies, emphasising her accent. “I’m surprised you recognise me. I can’t recall a single time that you actually looked at my face.”
“What are you doing here?” Leon asks, now fully awake but understandably bemused. “And how come you’re Nordic?”
“My name is Kessel.” The German girl announces. “And I am employed by the owner of this estate.”
Leon digests her answer, working out the implications, then nods in realisation.
“You were a spy.” He declares. “Standing there in the school canteen, ladling cold baked beans and lumpy gravy onto plates, tits spilling out of your uniform. You were Rachel McBain’s eyes and ears the whole time. Her mole at Medenham.”
“Guilty as charged.” Kessel confirms with a slight nod. “And I don’t need to ask why you are here.”
She gestures with the revolver, waving it in the direction of the mansion.
“You brought all this down on us, didn’t you?” She says, clearly intending it to be a declaration instead of a question. “We didn’t know who was responsible, but with you being here… it’s the Anointed One.”
There’s an edge in her voice, a note of casual finality, that indicates she’s just announced his death sentence. But not for a moment does Leon think of denying it, as he knows there is no point. Rachel McBain knows who Ella is, and Big Janice or whatever her real name is must have seen that he and Ella were an item during her time at Medenham. That, together with his public campaign against Malachi and the New Church, means the girl currently pointing a gun at him is fully aware that he and Ella must be a team.
He glances briefly to his left, where the drive snakes away in the direction of the mansion, but there’s no sign of Ella coming to his rescue. She and Thelma must be busy elsewhere, he thinks with an inner smile, doing Good. He turns his attention back to the blonde in front of him.
“Yep.” He states in answer to her question, knowing that she’s going to kill him, but strangely experiencing neither panic or dread.
Instead, Leon feels only an almost unnatural sense of calm and acceptance. He has simply reached the end of the road, he realises, and thus there is nothing else to fear. We see Ella in flashback, speaking to him a couple of hours earlier;
“We might not make it out this time.” She tells him.
The camera cuts back to Leon in the present.
Right as always, he muses internally. That’s my girl.
“Any chance of a last request?” He asks, and Kessel regards him coolly.
“Alright.” She finally says slowly, a note of curiosity and wariness in her voice. “Name it.”
“I always used to wonder,” he grins, nodding towards her breasts, “are those real?”
Kessel looks at him for several seconds. Her eyes narrow slightly, but otherwise there’s not a flicker of emotion on her face. Then the corner of her mouth curves upward in an almost-smile. Despite herself, she can’t help but admire this boy’s bravado in the face of his own imminent death.
“Yes. 100% natural.” She tells him.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Leon says.
“You’re welcome.” She replies, and there’s a lengthy pause before she adds: “If this was a movie, you’d now ask if you could have a feel. Don’t even think about it.”
“No fear.” Leon says with a short laugh. “I’m faithful.”
Kessel studies him for several moments, reading him.
“Yes you are." She murmurs. "Ella Dee is a lucky woman.”
Leon shakes his head.
“I’m the lucky one.” He declares.
Another moment passes. Then Kessel shoots him twice in the chest. As Leon jerks and reacts to the impact of the bullets, the camera immediately goes into extreme close-up, zooming right into his left eye until it fills the screen, as though entering into it. We see what’s flashing through Leon’s mind;
He’s in the bedroom in Ella’s tiny basement flat, lying naked on the mattress with an equally bare Mary Warren underneath him. He’s entering into her, but the movement is mechanical, robotic, merely performing a function, without any feeling, passion or closeness. Pure physical action without any emotional attachment. He’s not even looking at her, but is instead staring fixatedly at the wall above her head.
“Look at me Leon.” Mary says. "Please."
It’s not an order or a demand, but a request – almost a plea. He relents, and shifts his gaze to look at her - and is surprised. The Mary he had known until this moment had been a supremely confident, manipulative, and extremely dangerous individual. Brilliant, frighteningly intelligent, but border-line insane. A smug and taunting immortal being who had meddled with his mind, broken his spirit, and bent him to her will. But the woman underneath him has lowered all her defences. The look on her face and especially in her eyes is merely of a vulnerable, lonely, and stunningly beautiful woman who desperately wants this encounter to mean something beyond the mere physical. Mary reaches up and cups the right side of his face with her hand.
“Put her out of your mind.” She murmurs softly. “Be with me.”
Leon tenses. His expression and shoulders both visually stiffen.
“Get out of my head.” He protests tersely, but Mary sadly shakes her head.
“I’ve not read your thoughts.” She says, her voice almost a whisper. “I didn’t have to. Be with me Leon. Love me…if only until the morning.”
Reaching up with her other hand, she holds his face in both and looks deep into his eyes.
“Give me this night.” She implores him quietly. “Let me have something true and beautiful to give to our child. Allow me to tell our son or daughter that when they were conceived, we were genuine lovers, even if it is just for a few hours. Give me this one thing, Leon. Please…”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He states.
“I do.” Declares the Anointed One. “I’m asking for everything. Please Leon. If not for me, then for our child.”
Human and immortal stare at each other for several long seconds, both with so much to lose.
“Yes.” Leon says, so quietly he can barely be heard, his mind such a maelstrom of conflicting emotions that he’s both resigned and surprised by what he’s just said.
Mary raises her head and kisses him, first gently, gratefully, then with increasing want.
“Our child will be beautiful, Leon.” She whispers. “And I’ll be so proud when I tell them about their father, and this night.”
What we see next is clearly sometime later: Mary straddling and riding Leon, his hands clamped on her breasts, her hands placed on top of his, both of them crying out as they climax together, his face contorted, hers ecstatic with pleasure. She collapses onto top of him, and the lovers lie exhausted, enjoying the warmth, touch and closeness of each other, nestled together in a private bubble upon which the rest of the world cannot intrude. Leon gently kisses both of her breasts in turn, then tenderly takes her face in both hands, looks at her blissful features and kisses her mouth softly…. then the scene abruptly changes to the following morning, with Mary’s smiling, triumphant face just an inch from his.
“You won’t remember until the moment you die.” She tells him.
Cut back to the present, as the camera reverse-zooms out of Leon’s eye and away from his stunned, frozen face. Kessel shoots a third time, point blank. The round hits Leon in the centre of the forehead, exits out the back of his head – taking most of the back of his skull and a large amount of brain tissue with it - and buries itself in the tree. Skull fragments and brain matter splatter wetly against the trunk, decorating a wide area of bark.
Leon dies knowing that he betrayed the only woman he’s ever loved in the worst way possible.
Kessel gazes at what’s left of his face;
“Looking bad, Leon.” She declares, then she turns and walks briskly away towards the gates and the truck lodged between them.

Cut to Catherine Cotton’s face in close-up, horizontal to the camera, her eyes closed. The camera slowly pulls back to reveal that she’s lying curled up on a dark green sofa, head resting on the cushion, seemingly asleep.
She opens her eyes, briefly looks about, then swings her legs round, getting into a sitting position. She looks expectedly over at Mary Warren, who’s sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.
“Yes, the father of my child is dead.” Confirms Mary, reaching forward to pick up a glass of cranberry juice that’s placed on a low table a few feet in front of the sofa.
The Anointed One smiles as she raises the glass to her lips;
“This clinches it. I’m definitely going to spend some quality time with Ella. Can’t wait to rub salt into this wound.”

Cut to Roxy and Ella in the courtyard, as the latter’s mobile phone rings. The Anointed One glances at the call display, which reads ‘Thelma’.
“Thelma. What’s happening?” Ella blurts into the phone.
Cut to the stone circle. Thelma is crouching by the side of the flatbed truck, clutching a pump-action shotgun with one hand and pressing her mobile phone against her ear with the other.
"I had to abandon the Smart, the terrain got too bad." The ghost whispers. "Although I found a shotgun stashed in the back. Must belong to that guard I clobbered."
"Have you located Malachi and Amber Chase?" Ella says.
Thelma cautiously lifts her head and peers over the side of the truck. Malachi is standing in the circle, a bunch of papers in one hand that he keps glancing at, arms aloft and shouting in a strange-sounding language that Thelma doesn't begin to recognise. He looks like an opera singer trying to reach the seats in the back row. Approximately twenty feet in front of Malachi, still within the circle, Amber Chase is tied to the metal poles by taut wire. But that wire is now straining, as Amber's body is seemingly being pulled towards Malachi, as though he's become the centre of a vast gravitional pull that only she is affected by. The girl's torso is arched towards him, with her arms and legs - still bound to the poles - stretched out behind her, holding her back. Amber's underwear is pulled taut around her knees, her skin is pale, feverish and covered in sweat, and the wire restraints are cutting deeply into her flesh, causing blood to flow down her arms from her ravaged wrists and trickle onto the ground from her ankles. The girl's eyes have rolled back and show only white, and her screams - despite her gag - are so loud, agonised, and full of torment, that Thelma would have previously only thought they were possible if a woman was either suffering death by orgasm or giving birth to a thirty pound child.
"That's affirmative." The wide-eyed ghost repiles with a gulp.
As Thelma watches, Amber's screams grow louder still, until the spectre is genuinely fearful that the girl is going to explode in a mass of blood and body parts, but then she shudders and jerks violently - and a sphere of bright light, about half the size of a football, suddenly emerges from her breasts. The screams immediately stop, Amber's head drops forward, and her entire body slumps and goes limp. She seems to have passed out. The ball of light hovers in front of Amber, then slowly begins to move through the air towards Malachi.
"He's extracted the piece of his lifeforce from Amber. He's about to reclaim it." Thelma reports into her mobile in a rushed whisper.
Her mind races, trying to think of something she can do.
“Shooting Malachi is out. He’s invulnerable to harm.” She rapidly mutters into the phone under her breath, before glancing at the luminous orb hovering ever closer to the Fallen Messiah.
“Life. Energy.” Thelma murmurs, an idea stirring.
She tears her eyes away from the events within the stone circle and looks at the metal barrel of the shotgun.
“I’ve got an idea.” The ghost announces.
“Thelma? What are you –” Ella can be heard beginning to ask, but Thelma cuts her short;
“Maybe I can earth it with a conductor. Like electricity.” Thelma theories desperately. “Wish me luck.”
“Thelma! Wait!” Ella’s voice blurts out urgently, but the ghost ends the call, shoves the phone into the clip on her belt, and emerges from alongside the truck, shotgun held in both hands and running towards the circle, gathering speed.
Suddenly aware of movement to his left, Malachi glances over, just in time to see Thelma pass one of the stones, entering the circle, sprinting towards the sphere of lifeforce.
“NO!” He yells, but the ghost is already just a few feet from the glowing orb.
Crying out in a mixture of barely-suppressed fear and determination, Thelma leaps high into the air, raising the shotgun above her head, intending to plunge the barrel into the ball of light, then spear it into the ground, earthing the energy so it can be harmlessly absorbed away.
But she has mistimed her leap, and jumped a second too late and too far. Her lunge overshoots. As she brings the shotgun down, the tip of the barrel travels over and passes down the other side of the luminous sphere, and instead Thelma falls onto the glowing orb, it striking her directly in the face.
Contact.
Something dead touches pure, undiluted Life itself. Positive and Negative. Yin and Yang. Total elemental opposites – completely alien and toxic to each other – react the only way they can. Explosively.
Thelma screams, but her cries are drowned out by an unearthly shriek: the sound of reality itself being torn asunder. Pain – limitless, infinite pain beyond sheer human comprehension – rips through her. Pain on a level that was never intended to be imagined, let alone experienced. Pain the size of the universe.
If Thelma still possessed a physical body of flesh and bone, then her central nervous system would have burnt out instantly. Instead, it feels as though each and every particle of her non-corporal form has been transformed into a microscopic, white-hot burning sun. One thought flashes through her consciousness. A single word. A name. Then, unable to cope with the incredible sensory overload, her mind shuts down.
When Thelma leapt, Malachi had the foresight to instinctively fling his arms across his face. Therefore, he isn’t blinded when the orb violently and tremendously explodes with a pure white light as bright as the sun and an ear-bursting thunderclap. The Fallen Messiah is tossed several hundred feet backwards through the air, his hair and clothes bursting into flame. He screams as his skin sears and cooks – but his invulnerability saves his life.
Amber Chase isn’t so lucky. In the nano-second following the explosion, the immense heatflare instantaneously vaporises her eyes, hair, clothes and skin, and the exposed raw flesh underneath is immediately fried into blackened, charred meat. The sturdy metal poles to which she is tied are bent and twisted by the force of the explosion, and torn loose from the ground. What’s left of Amber Chase is blown away like a leaf in a hurricane.
The eight stones that form the circle take the brunt of the unleashed energy, and explode into fragments. The initial sound of the explosion shatters the windows and lights of the flatbed truck, and when the physical shockwave strikes the vehicle a split-second later, it is lifted and tossed weightlessly end over end, it’s large front and rear bumpers striking and repeatedly gouging out heavy clods of earth.

Cut to the helicopter landing area. Ella and Roxy both jerk their heads round as a wall of expanding white light sweeps across the mansion, turning night into day. Her face transformed into a mask of horrified realisation, Ella feels her heart jump up into her throat.
“Thelma.” She murmurs fearfully, the word almost immediately drowned out by the deep heavy rumble that follows the glare.
The shockwave hits the grand country house, simultaneously shattering every window that hadn’t already been broken by the earlier detonations. Even as the numerous glass fragments are blown inwards, the very ground ripples in a visible line across the landing area. It passes under the wreckage of the helicopter - which lifts, shudders and tilts before settling again - then reaches Ella, who struggles to keep her balance, looking like a surfer riding a wave, while Roxy is sent sprawling, arms outscretched, and lands flat on her face. Sweeping past them, the rippling effect travels to the house, and a dozen individual bricks burst as the mansion shifts and groans on its foundations. Then it’s over. The glare fades and the retreating gloom of twilight returns.

Cut the helicopter containing Alex, at the outer-most part of it's circuit around the boundary of the McBain estate, and being tossed about as though it has been grabbed by a giant hand and then shaken. Eyes wide and fearful, mouth taut, the succubus has grabbed hold of the interior of the aircraft and is clinging on, while audible warning signals repeat, and alongside her the pilot desperately fights the controls as the instrument panel erupts in a display of sparks and wispy white smoke. After several seconds, the turbulance decreases, and the pilot is able to regain control. Not allowed the luxury of panic, he manages to remain level-headed, and quickly checks the instruments.
"We've lost all the electrics." He reports. "All burnt out. There doesn't seem to be any fires though. We're flying solely on manual, the old fashioned way."
If Alex hears him, she gives no sign. Instead, she sits with her eyes still staring wide open, clinging to a metal strut with one hand, while the fingernails of her other hand are digging into the edge of the seat.
"The rotors are holding together, thank God. And the mechanical systems seem okay." The pilot continues.
Upon hearing these words, Alex suddenly snaps back into life;
"God had nothing to do with it." She declares. "Go back to the circle. Find my husband."
"We've substained serious damage." The pilot says. "We're still airborne, and the aircraft is responsive, but we should land as soon as possible."
"We find my husband first." Alex states firmly, in a tone that brooks no argument.
The pilot would have continued to insist that it wasn't safe, were it not for the fact that he could have sworn his passenger's eyes briefly glowed yellow when she had spoken. A trick of the light, no doubt. What else could it be? But even so, he changes course and flies back towards the stone circle... while looking straight ahead and not even risking a sideways glance at the girl alongside him.
Alex gazes down at the landscape below. Every tree within sight has been uprooted, all apparently fanning out from where the circle of standing stones is located, a short distance away. As the helicopter gets closer to the circle, she sees more fallen trees, hedges, shrubbery and grasses that have all been burnt black or are still on fire. Nearer still, and they've been reduced to ash.
"What just happened?" She murmurs.

Cut the the helicopter landing area at the mansion. Roxy is slowly getting to her feet. She looks awestruck.
"What was that?" The ghost murmurs softly, apprehensively.
Ella is looking in the direction that the blast came from. Roxy has never seen the Anointed One look so pale and vulnerable before.
"Thelma." Ella eventually says, quietly. "Something's happened... something's happened to Thelma."

End of Part Five.

[fenris]

Part Six.

Cut to Jo's bedroom. The ex-teacher is on her hands and knees in front of Azazeal, facing away from him and wailing loudly, her body shuddering and rocking back and forth as he vigorously, repeatedly enters her. The Nephilim's hands are placed on Jo's hips, holding her firmly in place, the strength and frequency of his thrusting constantly increasing.
"Yes!! Use me!!" Jo shouts, and the Nephilim responds by entering her with such ferocity that it pitches her forward onto her elbows, and he pulls her backwards by the hips to meet his next thrust, her body as limp as a rag doll.
This continues for several seconds, then his cries almost drown out hers, as both of them reach an immensely powerful mutual crescendo.
"Ma - Malachi!!" Jo screams out, which causes Azazeal to laugh heartily as he withdraws and collapses back exhausted onto the bed.

Cut to the helicopter containing Alex. The succubus is intently studying the ground, looking for any kind of familiar landmark, but there's nothing. Everything vertical has been flattened or blown away, anything else has been vaporised. All she can see below is featureless, scorched earth. The aircraft reaches where memory tells her the stone circle was located - now there's a crater over a hundred yards across and almost forty feet deep at it's lowest point. The explosion has blasted through the soil, down to the layers of rock underneath. Alex looks frantically about, and after several seconds spots a huddled shape lying another hundred yards further from the crater.
"THERE!" She yells, pointing. "Put me down over there! NOW!"
We cut to approximately a minute later. The huddled shape is in the immediate foreground. The helicopter is in the background, about twenty five yards away, having landed on three retractable wheels, it's rotors still turning at full speed. Alex has already vacated the aircraft and is running towards the shape. She slows down as she reaches it and gazes at the figure. Bile suddenly flows up from her stomach and she fights the urge to vomit. The shape is human, naked, lying on it's side with it's back to her and curled into a foetal position, with every visible inch of it's skin horribly burnt. The smell of over-cooked meat hangs heavy in the air. Alex stands still until she's sure she won the battle against her gag reflex. Then she cautiously crouches down next to the figure.
"Malachi?" She says over the sound of the helicopter. "Can you hear me?"
No response. The figure is without hair on it's head or anywhere on it's body - it's all been burnt off. Alex carefully reaches out, takes hold of the shape's arm, wincing as she touches the damaged, vulnerable skin, and slowly turns him over. Her eyes widen and she again feels the taste of bile in her throat, so she claps a protective hand over her mouth. Malachi's nose is gone. All that is left is a ridge of semi-melted gristle around his now-exposed nasal passages. His lips have also been burnt away and his gums have shrivelled and retreated, lengthing the appearance of his teeth and giving him a permanently exposed death's-head smile. The eyelids on his right eye have been completely seared off, and while his left eye has retained it's upper lid, it's been reduced to a useless, blackened flap. His exposed eyeballs are dim and unfocused. Instinctively looking away, Alex's gaze falls on her husband's chest. To her amazement, she can see the faint outline of the elaborate pattern of the shirt he was wearing, as though the heat has tattooed the design into his skin. There are also small nuggets embedded in his burnt flesh in an almost vertical line from his chest to his groin, each one a few inches apart. Alex realises they are the buttons of his shirt, which have melted and fused onto him.
"Malachi!" She tries again. "It's me, Alex."
The exposed eyeballs suddenly shift and seem to focus. His head tilts slightly in her direction and one of his arms twitches. The teeth open and close with a clicking sound, and glimpsing between them the succubus can see her husband's tongue working in his mouth.
"Alex..." Malachi murmurs, his voice so faint she has to strain to hear it over the helicopter's engine.
"Yes! Yes, it's me, my love." Alex gushes, instantly bursting into tears with relief. "Don't worry, we'll get you to a hospital."
"No." He says, still faint but with a surprisingly firm tone. "Take me home... Take me to Jo."
"But you're hurt." His wife protests. "You need to -"
"We both know... there's nothing... doctors can do." He tells her, the large eyes fixing on her. "Only Jo... can help me."
"You can't trust her. She betrayed you." Alex reminds him, leaning in close, her tear-streaked face only a couple of inches from his. "Kept things from you."
"Yes... and she'll answer for that." Malachi declares. "But right now... I need her... I need... my mother."
Alex looks at his horribly burnt features for a long moment. Then she sets her jaw and nods.
"Can you walk?" She asks.
"I... don't know." Her husband replies. "I... I think I'll... need some help."
Shifting position to better assist him, Alex takes her hand away from Malachi's arm. To her horror, a large piece of his skin comes off with it, clinging to her palm and fingers, and she's unable to surpress a shudder. Then she steels herself and moves next to him, lifting his arm and placing it over her shoulders, while slipping her own arm around his back, holding him tight. The succubus lifts, helping her husband to his feet, taking most of his weight and steadying him. The two of them slowly walk towards the helicopter, Alex supporting Malachi as he leans against her.

Cut to Azazeal and Jo lying in each other arms, partly covered by the sheets on her bed. The Nephilim is regarding the ex-teacher curiously.
“What?” Jo asks impishly, noticing his gaze.
“Malachi has really gotten to you, hasn’t he?” The angel enquires. “You called out his name.”
Jo smiles bashfully;
“Jealous?” She challenges.
“You know me better than that.” Azazeal smiles in return. “But to cry out his name while in the throes of passion... Do you love him?”
“Of course.” Counters Jo. ““I raised and nurtured him. I've been a mentor, guardian and single parent to him. He's my son. My only child.”
“Cassie’s child.” The angel corrects her, playfully tapping the tip of her nose with his forefinger.
“It's a little too late to play those games. You've already admitted you only wanted Cassie for her womb, remember?" Jo declares, smiling knowingly. "You're becoming forgetful in your old age."
"Being with you makes me forgetful." The Nephilim replies warmly. "But even so, very few mothers sleep with their offspring, no matter how devoted to them they are."
"True." Jo admits. "But Malachi is more than a son to me. You assigned me the task of looking after him, and from that moment he became my reason for being. The purpose of my existance. Originally I did it solely to please you, but over time things changed. Yes... I suppose it's true to say that he's so important to me, he's become the love of my life."
"I thought I was the love of your life?" Azazeal queries, raising an eyebrow.
"And I thought you weren't jealous." The ex-teacher bats back.
"Touche." The angel concides, and Jo giggles, then rests her head on his chest.
"If it's any consolation, he's can't compete with you in bed, exceptional though he is. You give more multiple orgasms. And they're much more intense." She offers.
"Your attempts to smooth my bruised ego are duly noted, and gratefully received." The Nephilim says with a wry smile.
"You know, if I'd been a McBain instead of Cassie, I wouldn't have fought you." Jo tells him. "I'd have given myself to you willingly. I would have gladly borne a whole brood of your children."
"One would have sufficed." The Nephlim comments.
"Yes, but it's always useful to have a spare. And besides.. think of all the fun we could have had, providing him with a few brother and sisters." Jo hypothesizes.
"You really are an insatiable little minx." Azazeal sighs happily, then he laughs: "If just one of the McBain women had been like you, the world would have ended centuries ago. As it is, that time is almost near. You've done an excellent job of guiding Malachi to this point, and now that his powers are reaching their zenith, I'm here to oversee him as he brings about the final stages. We will stand together as father and son, as the End of Days is finally unleashed."
Jo's mobile phone, on the dressing table at the opposite end of the room, starts to ring. The ex-teacher climbs off of the bed, picks a sheer black silk dressing gown off the floor, and puts it on while walking towards the phone.
"Don't get dressed on my account." Insists Azazeal, smiling.
"You'll just have all the fun of ripping it off me, won't you?" Jo says over her shoulder, as she picks up the mobile.
The call display reads 'Corvide'.
"Yes?" Jo says.
"It's done." We hear Corvide reply.
"Excellent. Inform your mother, and liase with Perie." The ex-teacher instructs her quietly, then she ends the call.
"Good news I hope?" The Nephilim enquires cheerfully.
Jo is in the foreground, her face taking up most of the screen. We can see Azazeal in the background, still relaxing in the bed behind her. Jo replies without turning round;
"Yes indeed, my love. You have no idea." She declares with a smile.
We see her eyes start to glow red.

Cut to Ella and Roxy running past the outermost buildings that form part of the mansion and emerging onto the gravel drive. The estate grounds stretch out in front of them, and they pause for a second to get their bearings, trying to establish the precise direction the blast came from. Ella suddenly detects movement to her left, out of the corner of her eye, and turns her head to look properly.
Mephistopheles is approaching them, about fifty yards away, walking along the driveway, which curls away behind him. The demon is wearing his usual black suit and dark shirt, and is carrying somebody, holding them to his chest. No, not somebody – a body, lying limply in Mephistopheles’ arms and with most of it’s head missing. Then Ella recognises the clothes that the corpse is wearing.
"No..." She murmurs, so softly and heartfelt that it almost sounds like a sigh.
The Anointed One starts to run towards Mephistopheles and his burden, but barely takes a step before the full impact of what’s happened hits her like a blow in the stomach. All the strength in her legs just drains away and she pitches onto her knees, remaining there with a numb, haunted look frozen on her face, never taking her eyes from Leon’s body as the demon brings it towards her. A stunned-looking Roxy comes and stands alongside Ella as Mephistopheles reaches them.
"I'm most sorry.” He says, crouching down in front of Ella. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he suffered much."
The Anointed One looks at her lover’s corpse as though dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Her face is deathly pale, and her lower lip is trembling slightly. Slowly, hesitatively, she reaches out, her eyes starting to shine with unshed tears, and Mephistopheles carefully places Leon down so that what’s left of his head rests in the crook of her arm, while his shoulders and upper back are in her lap. The demon straightens up as Ella cradles Leon’s ruined face against her breasts.
"He had a good soul. That’s a rare thing.” Mephistopheles murmurs. “I liked him."
The demon glances at Roxy, who is looking at Ella gently hugging Leon’s corpse and is clearly unsure what to say.
"Miss Davenport, we've not been introduced. I am known as Mephistopheles.” He announces, and Roxy nods;
"I've heard of you.” The ghost says.
"Nothing good, I’ll wager.” The demon replies. “I regret that we could not meet under better circumstances."
Ella suddenly looks up at Mephistopheles, emerging from her fog of grief;
"How did…who…?” The Anointed One blurts out, trying to make sense of it.
"I found him close to a burnt-out vehicle with four bodies inside. The McBain descendants you came to rescue, including your young associate.” The demon explains.
"Midge?" Ella says, disbelievingly.
"I'm afraid so.” Mephistopheles confirms.
"Perie?" The Anointed One asks, still bewildered, but with a hint of anger in her voice as she says the name.
"I suspect she may have dispatched the young women in the vehicle, but in regards to Mr. Taylor, no.” Mephistopheles says with a shake of the head, and gestures at the bandages and makeshift splints on the corpse. “I recognise that handiwork. Perie treated his minor injuries, which I suppose means she was also responsible for them. But she wouldn’t have bothered tending to him if she was intending to kill him. I believe he was alive when she left him. I’m afraid there’s a very human stench all over Mr. Taylor’s death."
Ella seems to dimly accept this. Remaining lucid and focused is too overwhelming, too painful, and her mind already retreating back into numbed despair. She gazes down at Leon, still supporting the remains of his head with her arm, and stroking bloody and brain-matter decorated strands of his hair with her other hand, seemingly oblivious of anything else. Looking sadly at Ella, Mephistopheles then shifts his gaze to Roxy;
"Will you stay with her?" He asks the ghost. "I think it's best that I go and see what's happened to Miss Bates."
"Of course." Murmurs Roxy.
The demon acknowledges this with a nod, and with a final glance at Ella, he turns and sets off, walking purposely across the grounds. Roxy watches her stricken friend, helpless to do anything else. Hearing a helicopter flying low and close by, the ghost turns her head and looks about, scanning the sky above the mansion, but unable to see it because of all the smoke.
"It must be Malachi." She says loudly for Ella's benefit. "Whatever that was, he's still alive. He's leaving."
Roxy looks back at the Anointed One, who is now silently crying, tears falling from her eyes onto Leon's ravaged features. There's no indication whether she heard Roxy or not.

Cut to the interior of the helicopter. Malachi is sitting in the rear of the aircraft, barely conscious. Alex has given him her cream leather overcoat, which he's clutching around himself like a blanket. The succubus is next to the pilot in the front, her eyes scanning the ground below.
"We have to land as soon as possible." The pilot is insisting. "I can't guarantee our safety."
"And as I've told you, first we're picking up my friend, as I promised." Alex calmly but firmly replies. "Then, once we're clear of this estate, set a course for the nearest airfield. We'll land there and either charter another 'copter, or summon one from our fleet. Whichever's quickest."
Although clearly still unhappy, the pilot nods, accepting the compromise.
We cut to an overhead shot, looking down on Shannon, lying unconscious on her back, her knees slightly bent. The camera slowly pans in for a close-up of the succubus's pock-marked face, the eye-patch still resting on her forehead. We can hear the sound of the helicopter approaching, getting louder. The beam from the aircraft's search-light moves into frame, illuminating Shannon's scarred features. She suddenly opens her eyes, her good eye staring directly at us.

Cut to Ella, still cradling and weeping over Leon, with Roxy standing a couple of feet away, bearing silent witness. Moving closer to the Anointed One, Roxy tentatively reaches out with her hand and tries to place it on Ella's shoulder. Unsurprisingly, it passes straight through the immortal and Roxy jerks it back by her side, frustrated at her inability to comfort her friend.
...crunch...crunch...crunch... Footsteps on the gravel behind them, coming from the direction of the main house. Roxy turns and sees Perie walking confidently and unhurriedly towards them, smiling enigmatically. Directly behind her, the mansion is fully ablaze, engulfed in smoke and flames. The faerie looks as though she's striding out of Hell.
"Ella..." Roxy murmurs nervously, but the Anointed One gives no sign of having heard her.
Reaching them, Perie casts an eye over Roxy and then gazes at Ella hugging Leon's body.
"You seem to have a habit of collecting dead people, I see." The faerie observes.
Perie's voice snaps Ella out of her mental insolation. The Anointed One looks up sullenly, the eyes beneath her fringe no longer crying, tears drying on her reddened cheeks. The faerie nudges one of Leon's legs with the toe of her boot.
"And unfortunately my good intentions regarding your lover clearly came to naught." Perie continues brightly. "You have my condolences."
"I have trouble believing that you care." Ella murmurs, each word heavy with dulled anger.
"And you are right to do so." The faerie confirms, smile never wavering.
At that point, Perie's mobile phone rings.
"Please do excuse me for a moment." She says, producing the phone from a pocket in her jacket, putting it to her ear and taking the call. "Yes?"
Several seconds pass. The faerie's expression doesn't change, and is unreadable. Ella looks at Leon, finds part of his face that is still intact and free of blood, then leans down and kisses it softly.
"I'm sorry." She whispers.
Slowly, carefully, the Anointed One places Leon on the ground and releases her hold on him, straightening her back but remaining on her knees.
"I see. Thank you." Perie is saying into her mobile.
The faerie ends the call and stows the phone away.
"There have been developments." She announces. "One of my employers wishes to meet you."
"And I suppose you're going to take us there?" Ella queries, slowly getting up off her knees and facing Perie.
Stood with her hands by her sides, the Anointed One pointedly balls them into fists.
"You can try." The red-headed immortal says firmly.
A moment passes. Roxy glances nervously at the two eternals as they face off. Perie's smile is ever-present.
"That will not be necessary." The faerie informs them, a hint of amusement in her voice. "She is coming to us."
As if on cue, there's an unearthy shriek as a portal of brilliant white light - seven feet tall and three feet wide, with edges as flat and straight as any doorway - simply opens in the fabric of reality, just a couple of feet to the right of Perie. A figure steps through, and a second later the portal closes vertically and vanishes as instantly as it appeared. With the glare of the portal now gone, Ella and Roxy are able to see the newcomer clearly. A woman, slim and very tall, apparently in her early thirties with sleek jet black hair that almost reaches down to her waist. She's wearing a well-fitted dark red leather trenchcoat that goes below the knee, a tight black top that displays an abundant cleavage, matching trousers that cling to a pair of seemingly endless legs, and black high-heeled ankle boots. Her face is astounding beautiful, with features that could only be accurately described as perfect, and she coolly gazes at the Anointed One and Roxy with eyes that are a dazzlingly-bright pure green.
Ella has never seen this woman before, but instinctively knows who she is.
"Lilith." The Anointed One murmurs in recognition. "The Mother of Beasts. The Demon Goddess. The First Woman."

On-screen caption: To Be Continued.

[WarrenWitchesRule]

cant work out how to do hide the spoilers on here doh!
I did write more but don't want to spoil it for others

[fenris]

To hide spoilers, when writing a post you need to select Black in the Colors drop-down box on the far right of the Tags. Anything written inbetween the colour brackets will subsequently not be visible unless highlighted by the reader.

Looking forward to your thoughts on this episode, WARRENWITCHESRULE.

[orokiah]

Apologies, fenris, I didn't realise until I read the last couple of posts that this was a new episode. That's what I get for only skimming over the ten most recent posts instead of reading the board properly.

I should probably spoiler this, so:

Poor Leon... Never nice to have one of your favourite characters killed off but works nicely, especially with the Mary plot coming back to the fore - a very poignant moment. Looking forward to seeing how that plays out from here. One of the things I've enjoyed about your story is that you're not afraid to shake up the status quo, much like the series itself. Nothing is sacred and that makes it feel all the more real as a continuation.

Loved the Thelma/Roxanne parts too, and, surprisingly perhaps, Alex. Her relationship with Malachi, the way she's constantly second best to Jo and his evil deeds but devoted to him despite it, is very believable. I think you've given the character depths that didn't exist in the show but have made for excellent development. I would have loved to have seen Jemima Abey get a chance to play something like this.

In short, another great episode. There's so much going on in it that I feel worn out after reading it actually.

[WarrenWitchesRule]

Well first off I absolutly loved it.....

Normally killing off a main character is a bit iffy but it actually works really well. It means that Ella will change into a different character again due to the loss which was really in effect her fault. Loved the fight scenes, and of course the magnificent Perie is always a joy to read about. LOVED, LOVED, LOVED, the Azazeal and Jo sex scenes-you should think about writing erotic fiction coz boy they were well HOT, HOT, HOT. Hmm I think I'll just list the things that I love coz it's easier.

~Jo realising the whole love of her life thing with Malachi
~Ella basically making all the girls infertile
~Rachel's death scene
~Leon's realisation at his death what had happened with Catherine
~Mephistopheles (he's so cool)

I wasn't sure at first with the whole Thelma and Roxanne thing, but it's actually starting to grow on me and is cute really.

And finally again must say first class effort there. As ever can't wait to read the next episode.

WWR.

[robgairey]

A fantastic, thrilling episode - the end of season three? - and nice to see some bad guys - Rachel McBain, Malachi - getting some serious payback (something of course sadly denied Malachi in the TV version!)

I'm loving the character of Mary Warren, and was delighted by her appearances here. Hoping you have further plans for her!

[fenris]

Thank you so much for all your comments, orokiah, robgairey and WARRENWITCHESRULE. Much appreciated.

Spoiler font: To be honest, I was expecting to get blasted for killing Leon off, but you all seem to understand what I was attempting to achieve. I've always been slightly annoyed by long-running sci-fi/adventure series in which the leading characters face highly dangerous, life-threatening situations every week, and always emerge unscathed, while anonymous supporting characters whom we'd never seen before would drop like flies (the red-shirted ensigns in the original Star Trek are the best-known example of this practice, but they're far from alone).

In contrast, Death has always part of the Hexverse - just ask Thelma, Felix, Dr. Surtees, Cassie, Max, Maya, Tom and Roxy. And so I always planned to kill off Leon and Midge just before the Season Finale, and also have Thelma caught in the explosive heart of a cosmic event (note that there's no sign of her in the aftermath, when Alex finds Malachi), leaving Ella distraught and raw - at her lowest ebb and also her most dangerous.

I placed quite a bit of foreshadowing regarding Leon's death in previous episodes: Mary Warren's warning that he would remember their night together when he died was the first hint that Leon wouldn't make it to the end of the Season. Likewise the conversation between Ella and Leon in his Corsa, waiting outside Rachel's estate just before their (final) fumble in the back seat. And the flashbacks in Episode #12 of Ella burying her first husband were designed to forcefully remind the reader that she always outlives her lovers.

In answer to your query rob, this isn't the end. We still have the Season Finale to come. I'd originally planned for it to be a single episode, but I'm now certain it will become a two-parter instead - Episode #14 leading into the Finale, followed by the Finale itself. I've started writing Episode #14, but it'll be some considerable time before it's finished.

But since we're approaching the climax, I thought I'd post some quick thoughts regarding a few of the characters, my interpretations of them, and how they've developed (or not) during the Virtual Third Season;

Perie. I own a book called The Best of Science-Fiction TV, which ironically was published in the late Eighties, just before sci-fi television changed beyond all recognition - Star Trek: The Next Generation was about to commence it's seven-year mission, and a few years later The X-Files would drag the genre into the mainstream, where it's stayed ever since. But I digress. In the section of the book dedicated to Gerry Anderson's Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, the author summaries the villainous character of Captain Black by declaring that 'Black turns up wherever there's death.' That phrase stuck with me, and when it came to writing the Virtual Third Season, I decided from the outset that this was how I wanted to portray Perie. I've made her a very active character - there's no scenes of her simply standing around or merely trading dialogue. When she appears, she's either doing Something Terrible or receiving orders from Jo to go off and do Something Terrible. As Ella declares in this latest episode: "Let's just say she's bad news. Whenever she turns up, something bad happens."

Midge. Poor Midge. Alas, we barely knew thee. I always wanted her to be more than just the token computer geek/hacker, and fully intended to flesh her out as a character, but unfortunately it just didn't happen. Other characters and plotlines became more important and deserving of emphasis as the Virtual Third Season progressed, and so I never got around to developing Midge in the way I'd hoped. Of all the various things about the Virtual Third Season that I wish I'd done better, it's my biggest regret.

Corvide. Like Midge, she's also a mostly non-descript character, but unlike Midge I'm not particularly disappointed, because Corvide as I originally conceived her was little more than a walking narrative device. Basically, I needed to give Jo somebody to talk to, in order to explain plotpoints to the reader and lay foreshadowing for future events. But I couldn't use Perie for the reasons explained above, and Alex wasn't suitable because I wanted to portray her as resentful, jealous and suspicious of Jo, due to Malachi's casual dependency on his 'mother'.
So I created Corvide, which also allowed me to sow the seeds of the Lilin subplot, which will be fully revealed in Episode #14. And in her own, quiet and understated way, I like to think that Corvide has developed quite nicely, into an intriguing and mildly eerie little character.

Have to dash now, but I'll post my thoughts about Roxy and Alex soon.

[laurapyper]

Crongrats on another job well done fenris, it seems that: Ella has ditched some of her Anointed One stuf and become a real, what, she would still be a 17 year old, so she is strating to act like a normal peoson, with all the mourning over laon and some of the thelma- roxy qoustions she asked roxy, thats one thing i really liked, the roxy being bi bit, that was a real twist i totally didnt see comming, and im guessing that ellas kick ares coat is the big black one with the high colar, cause it is kick arse! It is really sad how leon dies, and that thelma gets thinged(i dont know what the name for it is ) And all the stuf between Jo and azazeal just breaks up the sad parts, and adds some excitement. Yeah, im realy looking foward to reading another oneof theese,i really want to know what happens to roxy, if she has a mental breakdown because her gf died (again, or not really died) and what Mary does, cause she was another twist that i totally didnt see comming, another anointed one, at least she stayed out of the way while ella was righting McBain

yeah so keep those fingers typing, i bet were all in suspense!

[hikaphoenix]

when will there be a new episode?!
I miss reading this fanfic series.
It's been really good so far....

[fenris]

hikaphoenix said:

when will there be a new episode? I miss reading this fanfic series. It's been really good so far....

I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying the series, hikaphoenix. Many thanks.

I'm still working on the next episode, whenever I get the opportunity. As I've mentioned on previous threads, not only do I not have as much free time as I used to, and there are other demands on my time. So I'm afraid it's going to be a while before Episode #14 is ready for posting.

I'll post my thoughts about Alex soon.

Better late than never;

Alex. I've taken the view that when Alex allied herself with Malachi in the second season and became a succubus, she did so for purely selfish reasons. She wanted to share in the glories that would surely be his (tis better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven, etc) and so hitched her carriage to his train. However, by doing so she effectively trapped herself - her good fortunes were now totally reliant on his.
Fast-forward five years, and Alex has gotten into a behavioural mindset where she automatically and instinctively does whatever is right for Malachi, in the belief that it's also the right thing for her. She's unwittingly self-conditioned herself, having almost forgotten that her original plan was for some of his power and influence - both on Earth and in Hell - would either filter down to her, or be her's by association.
Malachi is fully aware of his wife's unthinking devotion, and being who he is, routinely abuses it with his open and blatant philandering. However, Alex does jealously guard her position as Malachi's wife, and occasionally she'll rebel (witness her slaughter of her husband's harem), but only within parameters that she knows she can get away with.
Ultimately, I see Malachi and Alex as two people who have never grown up. Jo effectively runs and controls every aspect of the New Church, and so the couple have spent the five years between the second season and Virtual Third Season cocooned without any roles or responsibilities in the pampered and decadent lifestyle provided by the Church's wealth. At heart, they're like two big kids who either sulk, scheme, or throw a tantrum when they can't get their own way.