The Dark Side's Beloved

by Miss Eureka Destiny

Carrie White is transported to the Star Wars galaxy where she becomes the Emperor's apprentice. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS

Foreword

This is a fanfiction which features the character of Carrie White, from the original 1976 movie "Carrie", being somehow transported at the close of the film to the Star Wars galaxy and, unfortunately, falling into the hands of Palpatine. I think the fic will be transpiring some time right after "The Empire Strikes Back."

I always thought this would be a cool idea for a story. Carrie, after all, would be the strangest and most naturally gifted user of the Force that anyone in Lucas's world would have ever encountered. While Jedi seemed to easily learn how to see the future and telepathize, telekinesis coming later as a difficult power which had to be diligently worked at, Carrie would be the exact opposite. Telekinesis came absolutely naturally to her while the other abilities would be the yet dormant ones. The fact that an individual could be so talented in the Force as to have naturally conceived telekinesis without even conscious effort and then solitarily mastered it in a few weeks, all without the aid of a teacher or even knowledge of the Force, would instantaneously draw all Force users' attention to her. Palpatine would be delighted that Carrie would have already taken the first steps toward the Dark Side with her bloody prom massacre and her mother's murder. Really, Carrie would be the Dark Side's model pupil, a person filled to the brim with fear, anger, and depression. On top of this, she would be innocent both generally and specially, knowing nothing of the Force's workings, making her very easy to deceive. Her only flaw would be her non-aggressive spirit, which would have to be molded. At any rate, I'm sure that the Emperor would be quite enthusiastic about ensuring that she became his apprentice, while Luke and Yoda would be desperate to contact the lonely, innocent young girl with knowledge of the Light Side-lest they be forced to confront her in a harrowing duel to the death.

This fanfiction is rated PG-13 for violence, language, and thematic elements. Please read and review!!!

P.S. In the future, there will be a web page for this fanfiction which will post images and song lyrics that go with it. It will be updated along with the story. When I have created this site, and each successive time I update it, I will let you know in an Author's Note at the beginning of a story chapter.

P.S.S. I sometimes communicate with my readers via my author bio. If a story has not been updated after a considerable length of time, the reason why will more than likely be given on that page.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Carrie. I make no profit off this composition

other than my own enjoyment, so please don't send the Jedi to confine me

in the Copyright Brig of a Galactic prison.

Author's Notes:

O.K., here's the deal. I really am not a lazy writer who doesn't care about updating, but in a few days, I am going off to college on a substantial scholarship and enrolled in a rigorous honors program for both of which I have to maintain a GPA of 3.6. I am also battling a chronic health ailment which, until recently, stood a good chance of preventing me from even going to college. Therefore, this piece is on hiatus until next summer. Sorry about that, but my parents have made it clear that I am not to eat up my time with writing fanfiction. If I have some free time, then I'll come back and update; but, if not, then, see you next June. I just thought it would be fair to tell you now, rather than have you frustrated by a prolonged lack of updates. If you lose interest due to such a long wait, it's perfectly understandable-but, if you really like what's here so far, then stick out the next nine months, because I will write this story as soon as the bright sun of next summer dawns, promise.

(Miss) Eureka Destiny

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I

They're all gonna laugh at you! They're all gonna laugh at you! They're all gonna laugh at you!

Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!

We're all sorry, Cassie. We're all sorry, Cassie.

Trust me, Carrie, you can trust me. Trust me, Carrie, you can trust me. Trust me, Carrie, you can trust me.

Shutting her eyes as she threw back her sopping head, Carrie White let out a shrill scream of agony. She couldn't trust anyone. There was no one who cared for her, no one who had ever loved her or desired to be her friend. Who would want to be a friend to a pathetic shell of a person like herself, a scroungy, awkward little outcast girl who couldn't even muster the self-dignity to speak above a whisper? Who would love a skinny, shabbily dressed freak who always scurried around with her stringy hair hanging in greasy tangles over her downcast head and her ghostly pale face unbeautified by even the lightest touch of cosmetics? There would never be anyone who wanted or loved a person like that-there would never be anyone who honestly cared for her, no, anyone who even honestly cared about her. She was alone-completely alone.

As the tears formed beneath her closed eyelids, Carrie's ears were pricked by the echoing laughter of everyone gathered inside the spacious gym. With a sob, she began to tremble. Why did they always hurt her, what had she ever done to any of them? She wasn't a mean girl, she never struck out at anyone. Why did everyone find so much delight in tormenting her?! It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair!!!

Suddenly, drowning in anguish, Carrie's mind and heart snatched back that thought and began to focus on it. It isn't fair! It wasn't fair that her mother was an insane religious fanatic who had never been there for her, whose sole mission in life was to condemn her for anything and everything she ever did and force her to pray for forgiveness for it, locked in a dark, dusty closet like an animal. It isn't fair! It wasn't fair that all the girls at school ridiculed her, made her feel like a dumb, ugly little mouse with no worth and no appeal. It isn't fair! It wasn't fair that the teachers all misunderstood her, that they mocked her whenever she tried to speak up in class, that they didn't even bother to remember her name. It isn't fair! It wasn't fair that Miss Collins had tricked her, that she had promised her so sweetly that everything would work out all right, when all along she'd been lying, she'd known what was really in store for her, what her future would really always be. It isn't fair! It wasn't fair that she'd been duped into coming to this prom, that she'd gotten her heart set on it, filled her trembling heart with hope, and worked so hard on her dress and her hair and her makeup, and believed that, at last, someone finally, truly cared for her-and then, had it all ripped away from her, had felt all the sweet glow of the beautiful dream wash off of her in a sudden, horrible torrent of blood, that revealed to her that she had been right-it had all been a lie, just another cruel plan to hurt her again, so that they could all laugh about it like they always did.

The sound of laughter-she heard it all about her. With awful shrillness, it rose and fell around the room, reverberating off the gymnasium walls. Like a ringing hammer, it pounded in her ears, drowning out her thoughts and swallowing up her sobs in its cacophonous noise, its harsh, piercing notes of cruelty. Flooding her hearing, the familiar sound was nearly incapacitating, nearly incapable of being stood up under, as one was lost inside its loudly swelling tones-and then, like a spark of electricity, a new thought sprang into Carrie's mind.

I HATE THAT SOUND!!! That sound that she had been hearing ever since childhood, that was present in even her earliest memories. That sound that belonged to everyone in her life that delighted in torturing her, in making her life miserable. That sound that would never stop, never leave her alone. Fiercely clenching her hands, Carrie screamed inside her mind. STOP IT!!! IT ISN'T FAIR!!! STOP IT, ALL OF YOU, STOP IT!!!

It didn't stop-instead, it only seemed to grow, echoing louder and louder within the room, filling up the whole space of the gym. Outside the darkness of her tightly shut eyelids, Carrie heard it, heard the deafening hateful sound being thrown at her, mocking her, mocking her pain and her pleas for it to stop. It would never stop-They would never stop.

Unless they were made to.

Suddenly, Carrie's whole frame began to quiver. Squeezing her eyes shut to crinkles, she clenched her teeth as a whole tumult of fiery thoughts violently rushed through her mind. HOW DARE THEY?! HOW DARE THEY DO THIS TO ME, HOW DARE THEY LAUGH, LAUGH MORE WHEN I WANT THEM TO STOP?! HOW DARE ALL OF THEM?! A slow boil began in her heart, simmering faster with every snicker and chuckle that floated into her hearing. It seemed that she could almost hear the sounds individually, discern from whose mouth each tiny giggle had issued from, pinpointing the people who mocked her. With a slowly building intensity, a seething rage began to creep up in Carrie's heart, a mindnumbing fury that seemed to sweep her entire being and gradually take her over, transmuting all of the accumulated pain and heartache inside her into a livid malignance.

All at once, she let her eyes bulge open with an eerie wideness that was nearly saucerlike. Slowly, she lowered her head, her sight being greeted with the multitudes of hysterical people who stood below the stage. Staring out over her taunting classmates, her searing anger rose even higher.

Suddenly, a new sound pricked her ear-the sound of a door quickly shutting. Furiously, she turned towards the noise. They would all laugh at her to her face and then go home and laugh some more?! Not this time, they wouldn't-no one was getting away with it this time!

Sharply jerking her head to each set of blue double-doors which opened into the gym, Carrie reached out with her mind and forcefully slammed them shut-one, two, three. As they loudly banged closed, the many hysterical teenagers paused in their laughter to look around in response to the sudden noise. Hesitating a moment, Carrie White regarded the crowd before her. There was too great a number of people for her to simultaneously keep track of. Confusion was needed. Quickly snapping her head upward to the left, she willed the bright stage lights which illuminated the room to abruptly switch off, plunging the room into semi-total darkness. Then, amid the collective startled gasps, the blonde girl slowly re-lowered her head, her bulging blue eyes flickering with unfathomable fury over the formally dressed masses as she lividly drew one final, deep breath.

Laugh at this.

All at once, a girl's frightened voice was heard shouting throughout the gym. "Somebody open this door! Help! Somebody, open the door!" As people hurried to help her, Carrie adamantly focused her thought on the triple set of double doors, firmly holding them shut. With groans of exertion, several students collectively pushed against them, endeavoring to force them open; but Carrie fought the purposed motion with all her mental energy, pushing back on the doors against their struggles. When it became apparent that the doors wouldn't budge, immediately, a mass panic ensued. Nearly everyone in the gym began a mad rush on the would-be exits, mindlessly pounding on the double doors as they shouted for help. With a twisted sort of pleasure, the pale, slender girl on the stage watched them. It seemed almost humorous, all of her tormentors lost in terror, struggling desperately to escape-to escape from her, the pathetic little girl they all would have laughed to fear. But none of them would escape.

As her classmates continued to bombard the exits, Carrie began to intuitively sense somehow that the force of their exerted efforts was no match for the force of her mind's expelled energy. With that realization, the blonde girl discovered that while maintaining her hold on the doors, she could also turn her mind to other things, other objects. Noticing a fire hose set within a glass casement on the wall, Carrie concentrated her thoughts on it intently. Instantly, the glass door to the clear case opened wide, and the long hose emerged from its resting place, rapidly beginning to unwind. In a flash, the water was turned on, spraying forth over the herded masses clamoring at the exits. Screaming as the icy stream of water was shot at them, many of the terrified adolescents ceased their battle with the metal doors and rushed away from the levitating hose back into the center of the gym. That was well, for immediately, Carrie felt the force required to hold the triple set of doors shut against their assailants significantly lessen, providing her mind with a considerable relief from that constant exertion.

Observing her classmates scatter before the activated hose, Carrie firmly latched onto it with her mind, vindictively following it with her gaze as, with chilling precision, she levitated it about the room, in vengeful pursuit of its fleeing targets. With petrified screams, several of the adolescents were cornered and violently struck by the metal nozzle of the flying fire hose, plunging them into unconsciousness as they toppled over the many round banquet tables, the water from the hose washing over their still faces.

As the mayhem continued, a small group of teachers and students rushed up to the stage platform. With acute worry, they vainly attempted to revive the unconscious boy lying a short distance from its ascending steps. Carrie took no heed of the throng of panicky people gathered at her feet, continuing her focus on the floating water hose.

Her awareness was suddenly pricked, however, by the dash of one of the teachers to the platform's microphone stand. With a fervent tone, he shouted into the amplifying device, his voice loudly carrying throughout the room. "Everyone, don't panic! They will get the doors open! Stop rushing the exits!" With a livid glare, Carrie directed her attention to the shouting man beside her. If he thought he was going to overturn her design, he had another thing coming. Concentrating her effort on the microphone stand, the blonde girl violently ruptured its complex inner wiring, creating a massive domino effect of short-circuiting. With an agonized scream, the middle-aged man found himself being instantly electrocuted within a heated burst of sparks exploding out from the device in his hands, held firmly locked onto the object of their grasping. With a cry, another man sprang to his aid but found himself also glued in an uncontrollable grip on the shocking stand. Another rapid burst of electrical sparks, and both the two men and the microphone were finished.

With countless shrieks, the room was thrown into an even greater panic than before. As Carrie witnessed her easy destruction of the microphone, she intently pointed her large blue eyes upon the various other electrical devices throughout the gym, violently blowing each one of them out and releasing a searing explosion of blue and red sparks onto the terrified crowd.

With a strange stir of emotions, Carrie watched the death and destruction playing out before her. Never before had she felt so completely enraged, so utterly possessed by anger and hatred; but the odd thing was, that it seemed now as if the previous burning fire of her emotions was eerily changed into a deadening coldness, an icy malignance that felt no prick of pity or remorse at its cruelty. Oddly also, the more times she delved into her power, the more times she willfully used it to wreak a deliberate act of vengeance, the deeper the coldness sank into her heart, taking its merciless root in her innermost soul. Yet never before had she felt such utter control over her telekinesis, experienced such a perfect balance within herself and smooth, flawless flowing of her powers. It was almost as if she had somehow come in tune with something-somehow, through the pathway of her violent emotions, connected herself to some mysterious reserve of energy. Before, when she had used her telekinesis, she had always felt the sudden chill rush of power that coursed through her, like the icy gust of a winter breeze; but now, it was like being completely submerged in a freezing, tingling pool, omnipresent and inexhaustible, that gave forth unending renewal of energy when bidden so, that obediently answered her call for enormous power to do with what she would. Carrie felt as if she was swept up in power unlimited, power that bowed in submission to her will-yet, at the same time, it also seemed as though the power possessed a subtle will of its own, an enigmatic capability to influence her emotions and slightly submit her to itself, as if she was some lifeless host, some willing vehicle that it could filter its aura of hate and destruction through, like a light through a prism. A dark light. But consumed with her lust for revenge, Carrie little cared for or even gave thought to the disquieting negative energy flowing through her being; she was greedy for it, and it was greedy for her. Together, could they achieve what they both most desperately desired-the wrathful destruction of the life before them.

Calling even more upon her powers, Carrie began to throw the gym into a wild whirlwind of chaos, overturning tables and chairs and shattering glasses of drinks, launching their broken splinters through the air as deadly missiles. With numerous screams, the group of teachers at her feet strained to drag the unconscious boy off of the stage and across the floor to an exit. Noticing their flight, Carrie coldly released an invisible wave of energy to knock them off their feet, overturning a chair onto some of their groaning number.

Staggering to her feet, one of the women dizzily scampered over against the wall, pressing her back into its hard surface as she gaped in disbelief at the horrible scene before her. Instantly, Carrie recognized the female teacher as Miss Collins-Miss Collins, the coddling backstabber who had gained her trust to betray her. With a livid expression, the adolescent girl waited for the terrified woman's wildly roving eyes to meet her own.

As Miss Collins's gaze finally fell upon Carrie, she abruptly started in shock. Upon the deserted stage, the thin blonde girl, drenched from head to toe in blood, stood calmly at ease amid the destruction and terror pervading the entire room, her face cold with an expressionless cruelty. A chill fire of malice flamed inside the youth's bright blue eyes as they locked with those of her own. Involuntarily shuddering under the eerily overpowering gaze of her student, Miss Collins suddenly gasped in a moment's horror of realization. It can't be…

The chilling evil within Carrie's intensely focused eyes, boring as it seemed into the very depths of her soul, however, revealed that it was-in a flash, Miss Collins knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the explanation behind the horrifying catastrophe around her was Carrie White. Somehow, it was her causing it all, her perpetrating the mass murder of the entire school! But why?! How could she?! Even if she'd been hurt, it wasn't like her, it wasn't in her to commit that kind of cruel monstrosity! She had to stop! Her face paling in terror, Miss Collins wildly stared into the livid eyes of the adolescent girl a short distance before her. "CARRIE!!!" she screamed brokenly, so utterly petrified that her voice shook.

With an icy glare, Carrie focused on the woman a small space in front of her. The sniveling liar! Now, she was sorry, now she cowered back against the wall from the punishment overtaking her fellow conspirators and begged her for mercy. Well, too late, she would find no mercy or pity from one she had never shown either too!

Terrified beyond her darkest nightmares, Miss Collins let out one final pleading shriek. "CARRIE!!!" In that moment, the entreating woman saw the blonde girl's eyes vindictively widen as, suddenly, the pale party streamers hanging from the wall behind her visciously sprang to life, tightly roping her frame against movement. As the screaming teacher violently flailed her arms in the air, struggling to break free, the large basketball hoop above her was all at once ripped loose from its nails and sent heavily crashing down upon her, swinging with a loud bang into the center of her stomach. With a stifled gasp of agony, the severed woman writhed in torment for a few moments on the enormous board protruding through her chest cavity. Then, with a slow motion, she listlessly sank face forward over the bloody square of wood, her body stilling under the merciful arrival of death.

With a vengeful pleasure, Carrie turned her attention back to the remaining survivors scrambling throughout the gym. Unbeknownst to her, there were two of her tormentors who were hidden in safety from her potent fury. From a window above the back of the gymnasium, a black-headed boy and blonde haired girl watched the mounting death count of their classmates in speechless horror. The adolescent couple, like their murdered teacher, had at last realized the cause of the destruction to be the thin, glowering girl atop the decorated platform. With shrill gasps of horror, they quickly ducked out of sight and fled away down the metal stairs attached to the rear of the building, escaping into the night before the crazed White girl had a chance to notice them.

Back inside the gym, however, people had despaired of ever breaking through the static doors and begun to instead brave strenuous climbs up to the high, narrow windows encircling the room just below its ceiling. With desperate efforts, they scrambled up the several loosely hanging ropes attached to the wall, rejoicing that at last, they had discovered a means of escape and deliverance from the impending death about them.

Carrie White, however, was not to be defeated so lightly. With a cold, deliberate precision, the blonde girl redirected the flying water hose toward the straining masses scraping their way to the top of the windows. As the slippery jet stream of water hit the struggling adolescents, their gripping hands lost their hold on the ropes, and with a unisoned cry of fright and despair, they fell all together back down to the shiny floor, being instantly knocked unconscious as their reeling heads struck the hard wooden surface.

One desperate boy, perceiving the seemingly possessed hose as the primary weapon being wielded against their escape, made a mad dash directly for it, furiously seizing it into his hands. With almost an inner laugh, Carrie let the powers of her mind shake the apprehended hose violently from side to side, dragging its misguided assaulter with it. All of the adolescent boy's strongest physical efforts were incomparably weak opposed to the explosive energy of her exerted thought. Finally, having beaten the boy down with exhaustion, Carrie willed the flailing hose into the air. For just a second, the boy held fast his grip and was carried with it; but in the next moment, his hold was forcibly ripped away, and in a swift, controlled motion, the metal nozzle of the hose struck him violently over the head, knocking him out cold in a sopping heap on the floor.

Just as she concluded that episode, however, Carrie felt the swift brush of someone running past her on the stage. Following the figure with her eerie saucer eyes, the blonde girl recognized the individual as the male, middle-aged teacher who had always degraded her in front of his class. A fierce light kindled within her eyes, Carrie mentally took hold of the many wires strewn along the floor of the stage and sent them lashing out towards him like cracking whips. Roped from behind, the petrified man was firmly pulled backwards against the fairy-lighted star background of the stage, his sleeves catching on the dozens of tiny, pointed electric bulbs. With a quick mental surge, Carrie initiated a violent short-circuiting within the many strings of lights; and, only seconds later, the end result of the sizzling chain reaction was the blinding burst of the entire stage backdrop into flames. With a loud howl of agony, the hung teacher was instantly cooked, his life meeting its grisly end in an excruciating live cremation; and, with that final wrought death, Carrie's lust for vengeance at last was sated and her bloody work of horror finally complete.

A backdrop of flames behind her, Carrie White slowly, deliberately, descended the steps of the stage. Her hands rigidly extended from her wrists in an intense, self-absorbed concentration, the thin blonde girl steadily proceeded to the still-shut blue double doors at the front of the room. Amid the pained, terrified cries of a few injured survivors, Carrie paused a moment in her elephantine walk. Eerily swaying her sopping head from side to side, she surveyed her violent handiwork. The shambled room was a grisly wasteland of bloodied bodies, frayed wires, overturned tables, and scattered shards of glass. Rapidly spreading throughout the walls and ceiling was a roaring fire.

As she beheld the dire judgment dealt out to her persecutors, Carrie was all at once possessed by a moment's confusion. All of this terror and destruction about her-had she really brought it about? Had she really just single-handedly annihilated the lives of dozens of people? Was it really because of her that the raging fire was lit, that terrified screams could yet be heard from the various corners of the razed room? Slowly, she blinked. It was; and with that grim realization, the fleeting moment of doubt passed, and the slender adolescent coolly resumed her slow procession to the exit.

As she reached the rigid double doors, the wide metal panels suddenly swung smoothly open, as if their natural function had never borne the slightest impairment. Then, a blazing scene of fire behind her, Carrie White quietly emerged from the gym, instantly re-sealing the doors behind her as she stepped out into the chilly night. Turning her path, the young girl calmly began a long march homeward, leaving the flame-engulfed school to burn to the ground without so much as one meager glance behind.

II

"We've got to kill her!" Chris Hargenson loudly emphasized to her hesitant boyfriend Billy Nolan. "It's the only way to stop her!"

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the dark-headed boy tremulously muttered under his breath. "The bitch! The fucking bitch! She fucked the whole damn school over!"

"That's why we've gotta kill her, Billy, she's a maniac!" shouted Chris.

"Bullshit!" yelled Billy. "Didn't you see what she did in there?! The little freak's got some kind of special powers, she cooked the whole school! We got out, we got away; do you think I'm going after her to get killed?! You kill her!"

"All right, I will!" snapped Chris. "I'm not going to let the little bitch get away with it! If you're too much of a coward, you stay here!"

With an angered expression, Billy slapped the brassy blonde across from him. "You think I'm a coward?! All right, Chris, I'll help you get revenge on Carrie White again, I'll help you kill her. But this time, you're doing it yourself!" With a forceful gesture, he grabbed her hand and shoved a pair of car keys into it.

Ten minutes later, they were speeding down the road, Billy nervously wiping the sweat from his brow, Chris almost impishly gungho at the wheel. Suddenly, a distant, grisly sight came into the view of their far-shining headlights. Several yards ahead of them, a bizarre figure was walking at a crawling pace right down the dead middle of the highway. It was a young girl, her long, pale gown entirely drenched in a dark red liquid.

Her eyes all eagerness, Chris Hargenson smacked her gum and pushed down on the accelerator, purposing to run the unwary stroller clean over before she had a chance to realize what was happening. The little bitch will never know what hit her! thought Chris devilishly. As she pleasantly imagined the body of Carrie White reduced to a gory smear on the road, Billy braced himself apprehensively.

Her frame rigid, her eyes eerily expressionless, Carrie White obliviously continued her slow, mechanical walk down the street. Suddenly, however, something pricked in her mind, or some other strange consciousness inside her. With an uncanny disquiet, she realized that she sensed something, felt something-something coming toward her with dangerous intent. Thus bizarrely alerted, she curiously reached out with her mind; and, without turning around, all at once she saw it, clear as daylight-the car coming at her from behind. Instantly, she reacted. Rapidly spinning around, she snapped a rigid arm into the air, pointing it emphatically at the fast-approaching vehicle.

Chris Hargenson, just finishing the vindictive thought of 'I have you now!', barely had time to catch her last glimpse of Carrie White before her appointed punishment was executed. With a sudden screech, the speeding car sharply swerved to the left, missing its target and running clear off the road. That minor catastrophe, however, was not the end. Immediately following its pitch from the road, the car seemed to gain a willful motion of its own, becoming completely uncontrollable. The misguided pilots of the vehicle screamed in terror as the haywired machine suddenly toppled over and began a rough tumble over the empty lot beside the highway.

With a cool deliberation, Carrie guided the rolling vehicle along the extended lines of her mental power. Countering the machine's path had up to that point been the most difficult endeavor her abilities had undertaken. Unlike all of the other objects of her practice, this object had not been static, but engaged in extremely forceful motion. Carrie had sensed somehow that halting the giant body of matter-completely neutralizing its inertia in so short a time-would require an incredibly potent expulsion of perfectly targeted energy, which she hadn't been sure she was yet capable of. Therefore, she had simply shifted the speeding car's path around her and sent it tumbling away, slowing it to a stop gradually. When at last she did bring the rolling machine to a halt, she hesitated for just a moment to regain her flawless concentration. Then, with a rapid, forceful series of administered telekinetic jolts within the cars inner workings, she ignited a massive explosion inside the engine which instantly resulted in the car's total eruption into flames and the quick incineration of her would-be attackers. Her face a porcelain mask of apathy, Carrie coolly turned away from the burning vehicle and resumed, unshaken, her steady path down the dusky street.

III

The next hour saw Carrie White gradually traverse through the small darkened town back to her home. Her long, trance-like journey was finally halted by the appearance in her peripheral vision of a small wooden house. Hesitantly, she paused. With a gradual motion, Carrie turned her head to the shabby residence beside her. Slow recognition dawning in her eyes, the thin young girl creeped at a snail's pace up the narrow walkway which led to the house, taking a long while to climb the creaking porch stairs and enter through the door.

Once inside, she steadily peered around her. None of the lights were turned on, yet the entire residence was eerily lit by the dim glow of dozens and dozens of orderly arranged candles. With a tint of confusion in her large blue eyes, Carrie silently walked from room to room, her sight each time being greeted by yet another glowing collection of candles. At last, she came to the narrow brown staircase which led up to her room. Gazing upward, Carrie hesitated a moment; then, gathering up her crimson stained dress, she slowly began a methodical climb up the wooden steps. Reaching the top, she briefly paused; then, with a hypnotic motion, she lifted her hands before her eyes. The spattered dried blood met her vision. Twitching her sticky red fingers, she re-lowered her hands, turning her gaze to the bathroom. With a slow pace, she crossed to the tiny room and entered inside.

Slipping the crimson dyed dress off her slender frame, Carrie filled the large white tub with water and then stepped down into the warm bath, absently sinking onto the hard ivory bottom-and then, suddenly, it all came down on her. They're dead, she slowly thought. They're all dead…

I killed them.

All at once, Carrie felt as though she somehow came back to herself. Like a melting block of ice, the strange enshrouding aura of darkness seemed to gradually recede from around her, releasing her thoughts and emotions from its deadening influence. Then, the pity and horror of it all, suddenly awoke in her consciousness. In an instant, her anger was transmuted back into its original sadness, and rubbing her fingers over her temples, she weakly gave a heartbroken sob. Her thin frame lost its long held rigidity as she miserably slapped her hands back into the warm water, fighting the impulse to cry. Instead of breaking down, she vehemently scrubbed the dried blood out of her blonde hair and pale skin, till the bathwater was dyed a nauseating shade of red. Then, stepping out of the tub, she promptly toweled and slipped on her long grey-white nightgown.

Walking out from the bathroom, Carrie found her desire drifting to the one person who had ever represented a semblance of love to her. With a wistful tone, she softly called out: "Mama?"

"Carrie?" came an unexpected answer. Turning around, Carrie saw the bathroom door slowly swing back and her mother, clothed in her ivory nightgown, step toward her. A look of longing flooding her eyes, the young girl wearily collapsed into her mother's arms. "Mama, it was horrible! They all laughed at me!" she sobbed. As her mother gently pushed her away, Carrie looked at her, her large blue eyes tearfully glistening in the dim light to create an almost unnerving effect. "Hold me, Mama, please hold me," she weakly begged.

Taking her daughter's hands into her own, the brown haired woman softly whispered. "Sit down." Tenderly, she began to stroke her fingers over those of the anguished adolescent's. A sorrowful expression in her eyes, she spoke. "I should have killed you when you were born. A long time ago, Ralph and I sinned, once, but we promised-never again," she said emphatically, shaking her head. A deranged countenance coming over her face, the middle-aged woman continued to speak, the focus of her brown eyes lost to some inner recollection. "We married, like good people. At first, we lived sinlessly. We slept in the same bed, but we didn't do it, ever. But then, one night, Ralph came in late. He'd been drinking; I could smell the whiskey on his breath. He was lookin' down at me, with that look in his eyes; and he took me-and I liked it! I liked it, his filthy, smelly hands running over me, all over me! We got down on our knees to pray for strength. I should have ended it that night!" With an agonized expression, the woman looked in her daughter's eyes. "But I was weak," she whispered sorrowfully. Brushing her hands over Carrie's blonde hair, an eerily strange light came into her widened eyes. "But now-the devil has come home," she breathed. "We'll pray."

With a tearful nod, Carrie gratefully sank into her mother's open arms. "Yes," she willingly agreed.

Repeatedly running her hands over her child's hair, the woman reiterated in an oddly far-off voice. "We'll pray. For the last time, we'll pray." As she began to chant the Lord's Prayer, Carrie readily joined with her. In unison, they recited: "Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done-

Suddenly, a painful gasp loudly ripped from Carrie's throat as she violently reeled backwards, tumbling uncontrollably down the wooden staircase behind her. Gaping upward in shock, the young girl started in terror to behold her mother merrily descending the steps with a large bloodied knife in her hand, which she had treacherously stabbed in her back. Her eyes wide with fear, Carrie hurriedly began to pull herself along the floor, cringing as her fresh wound was rubbed by the hard wood. Her threatening mother calmly followed, a twisted expression of kindness and joy lighting her deranged eyes. Farther and farther throughout the house, Carrie crawled, but her mother continued her happy pursuance, coming ever closer and closer. At last, Carrie reached the kitchen where stood in the wall a faded pantry door. Reaching up to grasp the rusty doorknob, she desperately rattled it in petrified panic; but to no avail-it was firmly locked. Her face paled as her mother slowly entered the kitchen, pausing to perform the sign of the cross. Then, with a loud cry of victory, the middle-aged woman raised up her grisly blade, ready to deal out God's judgment on her unholy daughter.

Suddenly, however, in the emotion of her fear, Carrie again felt the call of the mysterious reserve of darkness, its cold power fervently offering itself to her use. As the strange aura of energy again seemed to fade into her surroundings, Carrie's eyes instantly reassumed their previous ominous focus, their fear replaced by an intense concentration. Oddly enough, the girl found it easier this second time to tap into the enveloping pool of power around her; and acting on her fright, she delved into it greedily. I don't want to die! her thoughts rapidly jumped.

Grasping out with her mind, Carrie quickly pulled a shining knife out of a utensil holder on the kitchen counter. Aiming it with desperate precision, she fired it through the air at her approaching mother. The brown haired woman screamed in pain as the flying blade suddenly nailed her hand to the doorway. Her mother was stopped-but, this second time, the aura of dark energy responded more potently to Carrie too, deepening its impression upon her, further inspiring the negative feeling she had used to call upon it. As with her harnessed power the cold emotion of fear also flooded her being, Carrie hurriedly pulled out another knife with her mind and sent it soaring forth across the room to puncture her mother's other hand-and another, and another, and another…

At last, her terror relaxed as she beheld her mother standing pinned by both hands to the doorway, gushing blood from several grisly wounds where the attacking knives still were embedded. Initially, the middle-aged woman continued her screams of torment-but then, her insanity mercifully taking over, her cries of agony were changed in mid-utterance into a long, loud laughter of deepest joy. Carrie fearfully turned her head away as the mad woman continued her twisted expression of happiness amidst her impending death. Finally, the eerie laughter ceased-and when Carrie looked back around, her mother stood dead in the bloodied doorway, her eyes bearing a perverse look of peace and fulfillment.

Slowly, Carrie rose to her feet. She blinked as all at once her acute sense of fear smoothly withdrew, the veil of the enigmatic darkness lifting away from before her eyes. Trembling, she approached the grisly corpse. It couldn't be… With a dazed, confused expression, the blonde girl's eyes rapidly traveled over the lifeless body; then, all at once it hit her-she was dead.

She had killed her own mother.

With a tormented face, Carrie violently screamed in the silent house, throwing her arms in guiltstruck anguish around her mother's corpse. Then, suddenly, she snapped her head upward in shock as a piece of the ceiling came crashing down, a strange brown rock falling rapidly behind it. Immediately, other parts of the ceiling began to cave in, rocks dropping through the created holes after them onto the tile floor. Reacting in confused, terrified panic, Carrie struggled to free her mother's body from the doorway. Yanking the bloody knives out of her palms, she heavily dragged the corpse across the kitchen floor over to her despised prayer closet. For the first time in her life, she was desperate to be locked inside it. Amid the caving ceiling, the blonde girl hurriedly pulled the stiff door open and threw both herself and her dead mother inside, slamming the wooden panel shut behind them. Once inside, however, a portion of the closet ceiling suddenly cracked and dropped down upon Carrie, forcefully striking her head. Her vision growing dark, the adolescent girl slowly sank in a heap upon the narrow floor, falling into unconsciousness as her lower lip began to bleed-and as her eyes wearily fluttered closed, the last sensation registered by her mind was that of an unfathomable flooding all around her of rippling power and an inscrutable aura of chaos and darkness.

IV

The bright lights of Coruscant shone into the night in as many innumerable clusters as the stars in the blackened sky above. Along one of the city planet's many levels, several bizarre creatures trafficked back and forth. Through the doorway of one glowing building, a raucous disturbance was suddenly heard as a drunken alien was violently thrown out.

"Stay out!" the human man brashly shouted, spinning back around to re-enter his establishment. Once back inside, he sighed and looked around him. What a night. Throughout the dimly lit room were bunched various groups of all kind of galaxy scum, boisterously clamoring back and forth amid sips of their bubbling beverages. Crossing to the bar, the man resumed his work. At least, he would carry a generous profit from this newly-opened asylum of his.

Suddenly, gazing downward, he noticed the numerous glasses set upon his counter gently beginning to tremble. With a confused blink, the bartender paused in his work. The noisy room all at once grew quiet as all of its occupants also began to become aware of the strange sensation of quaking within the bar. Outside, the busy highways of Coruscant were uncustomarily silent as all of the raucous traffickers were brought to a halt by the sudden shaking of their streets.

Steadily, the bizarre disturbance continued to grow in intensity. Inside buildings, hung objects fell from the ceiling, while outside, the many levels of stone walkways began to split apart. People gaped in shock as they witnessed the appearing cracks travel from the roads up the sides of buildings, windows of glass that stood in their pathway shattering into fragments. With an eerie unison, all of the artificial lights of the city all at once flickered and gave out, leaving the highways in a state of darkness.

Suddenly, what seemed to be a massive explosion burst out through many miles of the city, vaporizing everything in its path in an instantaneous destruction. Form within the darkened bar, the many occupants screamed in terror as they felt, from leagues away, the rumbling vibration from the violent wave of pulverizing energy. In a mad rush of panic, everyone collectively fled the building-which proved well, for almost immediately following their flight, the entire structure utterly collapsed.

Switching on a self-powered light, the human bar owner spit on the dim street in fury. All the money he'd spent reduced in seconds to a pile of rubble. What the stars had that been?! Some kind of Rebel attack? Briefly forgetting his anger, he fearfully gazed upward at the skies. No-no star fighters. Lowering his glance, he suddenly gaped in amazement at the incredible scenario about him. "Now there's something you don't see everyday," he breathed. Before his view lay a wholly darkened Coruscant, its many denizens rambling through the still-standing streets in chaotic panic. Confusedly, he scratched his head. There were no star fighters-the Rebels must have planted a bomb in the city quadrant. What the Emperor's mood would be like tonight! Giving a moment's pity to the unfortunate servants who served in the Imperial Palace, the bar owner turned back to the debris of his destroyed business. Well, if the raid or mission was over, perhaps there was compensation to be found somewhere in the disorganized city-then it hit him. The bomb. It was a daring venture, but if he could excavate any traces of the bomb or any Rebel programming at the destruction site before the Imperial troopers, he could ransom it to somebody high up and make good on his losses. With a smile, the human man turned swiftly away, dashing off down the frenzied street.

A few minutes later, he was swiftly speeding in a pod to the enormous crater which had once hosted a large division of the quadrant. Smugly, he smirked to himself. At the moment, the city quadrant was a maelstrom, the mass population giving into panic. Such times were the perfect opportunity for those of wiser intellect to make a profit. Slowly, he emerged from the standing structures of the city into the barren destruction site, which stretched in a flat plain of rubble for miles on end. With careful guidance, he touched down in the area he judged the shockwave to have issued from. Then, his blaster in hand, he proceeded to exit the ship.

Emerging from the pod, he cautiously glanced around him. No other surveyor was in sight. "Looks like I'm the first one here," he chuckled. "Good thing I don't have to use this now," he stated, holstering his blaster. Then, the man gingerly began a trek toward a particularly large space of debris a short distance away, figuring that the high stack might be a good place to begin hunting for any Rebel leftovers of data.

Reaching his mark, however, the brawny human suddenly halted in shock. At his feet was a sheer dropoff, falling for several feet. As he wildly threw his gaze upward, the man realized that he had come to a massive crater amid the hundred-foot deep piled rubble-a perfect, widely-diametered circle which extended, free of debris, all the way down to what appeared to be the natural unearthed ground. Slowly lowering his eyes, the man shone his light down into the deep, gigantic hole; and with widened eyes, his breath shortly caught in his throat. The crater's debris-free floor was completely littered with hundreds and hundreds of small, spherical rocks-and in the center of the abysmal hole, upon the barren ground and amid the myriad of scattered stones, there lay, faceup, the static body of a young human girl.

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