Shadows on the Wall Chapter 128

CHAPTER 128:  Ended

 by Nicky

Voiceover by Joan Bennett:  “The end is nearing for all those who live in the accursed town of Collinsport … for many enemies have gathered, and on this night, the powers of darkness may claim the lives of more than one of those who dare to dwell in the great house of Collinwood …”

1

            “Is he dead?” Leticia croaked as they stepped into the room.  The shadows of Rose Cottage were thick; the little antique lamp Gerard used did little to bring light to the drawing room of the old house.  Leticia found she was shivering.  She had spent so much time in this very room, and for her it had been mere days, but more than a century had passed in reality, and time’s ravages were, for her, so sudden.  She moaned as she felt her stomach drop.

            “Where is that thing?” Elizabeth asked nervously, and glanced over both her shoulders.  Her eyes were shining with the adrenaline that pumped simultaneously through all their bodies.  “It wasn’t Eliot.  It couldn’t really be Eliot.”  The matriarch of Collinwood paused, and the next tone in her voice was both terrified and hopeful.  “Could it?”

            “That was the Enemy,” Carolyn said grimly.  She still held the pistol she had used to shoot Gerard.  It was still hot in her hand.  “Not Professor Stokes.  Professor Stokes is dead.”

            “Carolyn!” Elizabeth said.

            “Don’t be shocked, Mother.”  Carolyn approached Gerard’s body where it lay sprawled in an ungainly pile.  She was slow and cautious in her movements, like a small cat.  She continued to hold the gun aimed at the body.  “The Enemy deals in death.  It wears the bodies of our friends and family, but it is a demon at its core.”

 

            “I remember,” Elizabeth breathed.  She tugged nervously at the pearls she had donned that morning in the sun-drenched sanctuary of her bedroom with no idea where she and her pearls would end up by evening.  The Enemy had appeared to her months before in the guise of her own father, Jamison Collins, urging her to destroy Angelique.  And honestly, Elizabeth thought with more than a little guilt, it hadn’t taken much provoking at the false spirit’s hands for Elizabeth to grab a torch and light the treacherous witch on fire. 

           

            “Is he dead, love?” Leticia trilled.  She hung a little further back, cursing her own cowardice, but unwilling to take the lead.

            “I don’t think so,” Carolyn said.  She was only two feet or so from the place where Gerard lay with her bullet’s hole so neat, directly in the center of his forehead. 

            “Be careful, darling,” Elizabeth called.

            “It can’t be this easy,” Carolyn muttered, and nudged the body with her toe.  It didn’t move.  She frowned, narrowing her eyes as she took a step closer.  No, she thought; why would Barnabas and Julia have to go to all the trouble of bringing Leticia Faye back from the past if ending Gerard’s reign of terror was as simple as putting a bullet between his eyes?

            She remembered the look on the Professor’s face the moment after Gerard had plunged his hand into the old man’s chest.  She remembered how his fingers felt as they dug into her skull, how cold they were, twitching there like nervous spiders, how he had twisted her head until her neck nearly broke. 

            She kicked the body; she couldn’t help herself.  Her eyes burned with tears.

            

            “Have you no respect for the dead?” Professor T. Eliot Stokes said, and Carolyn screamed, cursing herself in that moment for losing her focus, but the thing had appeared so near to her, it’s ghost’s mouth inches away from her ear, “And the sound of his voice,” she would explain later, tearfully, to a grim and shocked Barnabas and Julia, “the sound of his voice … it was so real, so r-right … it was just like he really was back, like he’d never gone away at all …”  And she would dissolve back into the familiar sobs.

            “Carolyn!” Elizabeth screamed, but it was too late; she caught a quick glimpse of the Professor, his mouth huge and grinning, just before Gerard Stiles lunged at her, struck her in the face, a bloom of pain, and then she was falling and somehow he had her gun.

            “Fool me once,” Stiles cooed, and cocked, and aimed.

2

            “Very good,” Valerie purred, and took the little bauble.  She examined it as Tom Jennings handed it to her.  How minuscule it was, she thought, just a tiny metal creation, hammered into a shape god knew how many years before, a perfect iron circle with two bars that crossed each other in the circle’s direct center.  It hummed, though; she could feel its power thrumming all through it, just beneath her fingertips.  “Very, very good.  You have done well.”

            “What does it do?” Tom asked curiously, cocking his head.  “Roxanne wanted it too.  She never explained why.”

            “It ends curses,” Valerie said reverently.  She closed her eyes, the better to feel the force within the charm, talisman, whatever you wanted to call it.  She wasn’t a witch, after all.  Not really.

            “Oh,” Tom said.  He sounded disappointed.

             She cracked one eye.  “Oh?”  She smiled then, amused.  “Oh.  I see.  You’re thinking of your lady love, of course.”

            “Your promise,” Tom said.  He sounded almost guilty.  “You said I would have her.”

            “You must love Julia Hoffman very much.”

            “I do,” Tom said eagerly, “but it’s more than that.  Being a vampire – man, I love it.  I didn’t hate my life before, I don’t want you to think that.  But me and Amy all by ourselves out there on the farm after Chris left us – my handyman job – stormy afternoons, stormy nights, waking up, going through the motions, going to bed – I was tired of it but I never really thought about it like that.  In those terms.  Exhaustion, you know?”

            “Perhaps,” Valerie said.  This was interesting to her.

            Tom continued as if Valerie hadn’t spoken.  “But I didn’t really know how boring my life was until I met her.”

            “Julia Hoffman.”

            Tom nodded, his face growing softer, reverential, as if Valerie had named a god.  “She came to stay with Elizabeth.  They were good friends.  And Julia thought she was having a breakdown, or on the verge of one.  She just wanted time to relax.  Heh.”  He shook his head.  “Julia has her own hospital, you know, but god knows the last time she actually visited there.  Her patients must all be gone by now.”  His smile broadened.  “It’s funny.  I haven’t thought about this in a long time.  I’ve been so focused since Roxanne brought me back.”

            “I imagine you have.  It is easy for vampires to become obsessed, I have discovered.”

 

            “Man, don’t I know it.  That’s how I feel about Julia, I guess.  I loved her.  Mrs. Stoddard brought me to the big house to do some repairs in the East Wing, and the first time I saw her, Julia I mean, she wasn’t doing anything.  Just standing in the drawing room, drinking coffee from a little china cup.  But the sun was actually out that morning, and it came through the drawing room windows and just … enveloped her.  Her hair was so red, you have no idea.  Like fire.  And those cheekbones …”  He sighed.  “She was like this warrior-woman, and all she had to do was just stand there.  She didn’t have to do anything.  I loved her right then, I suppose.” 

            “You do love her,” Valerie sighed.  She turned the Amulet of Caldys over in her hand.  Was its thrum accented, grown stronger?  She thought perhaps it had.

           

            “I want to be with her forever,” Tom said.  “I want her to be like me.  For all eternity.”

            “Eternity,” Valerie said, musing. 

            “I’m going to find her now,” Tom said dreamily.  “Right this moment.  She won’t resist.  Not for long.  And then she’ll be mine.”

 

            “Perhaps,” Valerie said, then closed her eyes and intoned, “Periculum autem transiit.”

            Tom’s eyes opened wide.  “What did you say?” he cried.  The amulet in Valerie’s hand had come to life suddenly, glowing with a steady blue fire that, as he watched, grew darker and darker until it was black.  “What are you doing?”

            “Magicae dissipat,” she continued.  The black fire surrounding the amulet grew, raging up her arm and surrounding her in an ebon cocoon.  “Dimitte mortuos consistere.”

            “No!” Tom shrieked.  “No, you can’t do this!”

            She opened her eyes.  They were as black as the fire.  “I’m sorry, Tom,” she said.  “It’s time for you to rest now.  For all eternity.”

 

            The fire flew from her then and struck the other vampire, who had only a moment to throw back his head and shriek.

            Then the fire obliterated him.  It happened fast.  It took the skin from his bones and then the bones themselves, cutting off his scream, cutting off everything.  Only his eyes remained, hanging in space, crimson orbs that glared at her furiously with a ferocious hate.

            Then they too were gone.

            Tom Jennings was gone.

            Forever.

            Valerie sighed.  The Amulet was just a piece of metal again, but it had served her well.  She understood its power now and how to direct it.

            She hadn’t lied to him.  She was going to end the curse in the most direct way she knew how.  And the Amulet would help her.

            And when the time came, her curse would end as well.  She wasn’t excluding herself from the final conflagration. 

            All the vampires, she thought dreamily, and her lips dimpled into a smile; all the vampires in the world.

3

             “Poor Angelique,” the Angelique-shaped goddess said as it grew fully into reality and stepped from the dark shadows in the corner of Josette’s room.  The mortal Angelique watched her doppelganger warily.  The other Angelique was exquisite, almost impossible to look at directly:  silver and blackness warred over her entirety, flickering white magical energy, explosions of stars running riot, supernovas all over her.  Her eyes were silver and shot hot sparks from their centers that struck the carpet and then burrowed there, leaving tiny trails of smoke in their wake.  “So lonely.  So weak.  So scared.   You’ve finally thought to summon me, have you?”

           

            Angelique was not impressed.  My powers, she thought, all my power, rendered flesh.  Or something close to flesh.

           

            “And why could that possibly be?” the uber-Angelique queried, tapping her lips with the tip of one perfectly manicured finger.  More sparks shot from the end of that finger and singed the antique carpet.  Barnabas was going to be furious.  “Did you summon me so I could see my own image in that ridiculous mirror?  My dear, I know what I look like.  I see myself reflected in your eyes; in the eyes of every universe, actually.”

 

            “It’s a spell,” Angelique said.  Her voice trembled.  She allowed it to.  “From the past.  I did it just before Barnabas and I returned to this time.”

            “Ah, yes,” uber-Angelique said.  “Bravo, my dear.  Not even I can traverse the bounds of time.  However did you accomplish it?”

            “Alexandra March,” Angelique said reluctantly.  This has to work, she thought desperately, aware that the goddess-thing before her could probably read her thoughts.  Why disguise them?

            “Of course I can read your thoughts,” uber-Angelique said mildly.  “The truth is, I’m intrigued.  What possible spell could you use against me?  There isn’t one.  I was you, darling.  I know everything you know.”

            I’m counting on it, Angelique thought, and the other frowned for just a moment, then she relaxed, smiling again.  “I do apologize for my absence in recent months,” she said.  “The truth is, dear Laura and I have been rather busy.  We’ve been exploring other realms, seeking additional powers, annihilating certain worlds utterly.  Waiting for you and Barnabas to return before we implemented our plan.”

            “The destruction of this world.”

 

            “All the worlds,” uber-Angelique laughed.  “Leaving just a teensy corner of the universe to ourselves for Barnabas and for us.”

            “You and me?”  She had to admit, the idea held a certain amount of attraction.

            “For when we are one again, joined forever once again:  only then will I end the worlds and these tiresome, meddlesome mortals.  Then we shall all be together, as it was meant to be.”

            “You are remarkably single-minded.”

            “I am you,” uber-Angelique said again.  “We are remarkably single-minded.”

            “I suppose we are,” Angelique said sadly.  It was difficult to let the other’s master plan go.  Everything would be so much simpler the way she – it – described things.

            It’s impossible.  Barnabas will never want you if you allow her to do what she says. 

            “You don’t know that,” the other said.

            “I do,” Angelique said.  “Look into the mirror.”

            Amused, the uber-Angelique did so.

             The mirror shivered in Angelique’s hands.  “Leave the frozen world,” she whispered, “and come to life.”

            Another Angelique appeared in the room.

            “Since sleep is the twin of death and death is the twin of life ... sleep in this mirror until you are awakened, twin of Angelique ... sleep until you are awakened!”  She had incanted these words herself what felt like days before, but, according to the linear laws of time as humans experience them, was really one hundred and thirty-some years ago.  But the spell held firm across that gap of years, and had now proven successful.

            Or the first part.  We’ll see what happens next.  I might have just doomed us all.

            The witch standing there appeared as Angelique herself had appeared in that time.  Her eyes were black and crackled with magical power.

            A doppelganger.  A double.  Not truly real, not truly alive, existing only to be destroyed.

            “Weak magic,” the uber-Angelique said.   “You created another you so you could fight me with my own power.  Did you really think that would work?”

            Angelique shrugged.

            “I banish you, foul and reprehensible creature,” the Angelique from the mirror began to chant, holding out her hands, which crackled and sparkled with magical power, “I order you to leave this place for eternity, never to return –”

            “Yawn,” the uber-Angelique said, and snapped her fingers.

            The doppelganger exploded in a shower of sparks.

            The uber-Angelique chuckled.  “Weak magic, as I said.  What did you expect to happen, Angelique?”

 

            “I expected you to do exactly what you did,” Angelique said.  She was grinning now.  She couldn’t help it.

            The other raised its eyebrows.  “Of course I did,” it said.  “I could hardly do –”  It stopped speaking.  Its eyes widened.  “Oh dear,” it said.

            Suddenly, it was less present, less corporeal, less there.

            Angelique allowed herself to saunter over to the goddess, her hips swaying triumphantly.  “Yes, my dear,” she chuckled.  “Your ego is my ego.  I knew that you would destroy the doppelganger because you are so invincible.  And so you are.  Which is why you’ve destroyed yourself.”

            “No!” the creature began to shriek.  Its essence was beginning to shift and sway, drawn, inevitably, toward the mirror that Angelique even now held before her.  “No, you can’t do this!”

 

            “It isn’t as if you’re going to cease to exist,” Angelique said relentlessly.  “As you pointed out, you are me.”

            The uber-Angelique’s body had disappeared; only the magical energy remained, dancing and swirling in a mini-vortex that shivered before the glass of the mirror.  What did you do to me? a silvery voice whispered, echoing throughout the room.

            “You destroyed the doppelganger,” Angelique said, “as I anticipated you would.  You read it in my thoughts; you knew already what I had created.  You thought I created it only to fight you.  You knew you could destroy it with ease.”  Angelique’s voice grew poisonous with spite.  “What you didn’t know or what you forgot was that once the doppelganger was destroyed the spell required for another take her place.  In the mirror.”  She cackled; she couldn’t help herself.

            The magical energy swirled furiously before the mirror, then disappeared inside.  The mirror trembled for a moment in Angelique’s hand, then grew still.

            “You have ceased to exist,” Angelique whispered, “all but your power.

            “For you are nothing but power.

            “My power.”

             She hesitated for a moment.  Barnabas wanted her human; Barnabas loved her best as a mortal woman.

            But the world needs Angelique the witch to survive, she thought.

            I have made my choice.

            So thinking, she gazed into the mirror.

            Then smashed it against the corner of Josette’s dressing table.

4

            “Mother!” Carolyn shrieked.  “Mother, no!  NO!  NO NO NO!”

            But her fervent denials were meaningless.

            Beside her, Leticia sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

            Gerard grinned and grinned.

            A bullet hole, small, dime-sized, just like the one Carolyn gave to Gerard, appeared in the direct center of Elizabeth Collins Stoddard’s forehead.  Her eyes, wide with surprise, blinked once.

             “The curtains,” she said.  The words were firm and crisp and commanding.  “Draw them.  A storm is –”

            The strength ran out of her with her life.  Her eyes rolled up.  She collapsed.

            Her blood had spattered the walls behind her.

            Carolyn shrieked then, and flew to her mother’s side.

            “Too late,” Gerard cooed.  “Too late, too late, oh far too late.”

            Carolyn was blinded by her tears.  She stroked her mother’s hair, and felt the blood stain her hands, felt it grow sticky and tacky.  She threw her head back and screamed.

             “Won’t do you any good,” Gerard said.  He sounded almost sad.  “We could have used her power.  Her Collins essence is what fuels the Master, you know.  No matter.  We still have you, pretty Collins girl.”

            Carolyn stared at him numbly.  She couldn’t move.  Let him do whatever evil thing he had planned.  Let it end now.

            “Gerard Stiles,” Leticia Faye said, and they both turned to look at her, shock spooling out over both their faces.

            She was afire with white light that blazed in her eyes and hands, a beautiful nimbus surrounding her.

            She smiled and held out her hands.

            “The end,” she said, as the fire flew.

TO BE CONTINUED ...