An Unexpected Visit
(Author's Note: I'm not going to go into all the details of Hell On Earth in this fic, since, first of all, previous authors here have already done that much more eloquently that I could, and secondly...well I'm going to presume anyone reading this has already seen the movie anyway. If not...I recommend you do! I'm not going to show Joey's meeting with Elliot in Limbo; rather, this chapter-and subsequent chapters-takes place directly after that. Credit goes to The Cure and Ludwig Van Beethoven.)
"Hopelessly adrift in the eyes of the ghost again;
Down on my knees, and my hands in the air again.
Pushing my face in the memory of you again,
And I'll never know if it's real...
Never know how I wanted to feel..."
-The Cure, "Untitled"
In August of 1921, Nadine Jones was attacked and killed by vampires, the developing life inside her womb also perishing. But they had not left her to die; they had instead made her one of their own kind, a demon, a killer.
Three months after Elliot's certain demise, Nadine herself was dead, along with the unborn child neither of them would ever see. However, Nadine was doomed to walk the earth forever, as a vampire, one of the undead.
But she had never stopped loving Elliot-or wondering about what had happened to him.
She had always felt certain that the box had killed him, but when she got to his bunker the evening he'd vanished, there was no trace of the box. And she had never found it again. No matter how hard she'd looked.
But still, Elliot remained in her thoughts. And in her heart...
New York, 1992
After seventy years of being immortal, Nadine truly believed she'd seen it all. She'd lived through several wars-so much for The Great War being 'the war to end all wars'-and more pain and suffering than one could imagine.
And she should know-she'd been the cause of a lot of pain and suffering herself.
However, unlike some vampires, Nadine did not kill indiscriminately. She needed human blood to function, of course, but only criminals and the truly evil and depraved died at her hands.
Contrary to popular belief, vampires were not strictly evil. Not unless they chose to be.
She had never been evil-just dark.
Just like Elliot.
Nadine had left India about a year after her 'death', a year after her child's death, a child she still thought about every single day, and had gone firstly to London, and then eventually, on to New York, stowing away on a ferry. London evoked too many memories of her former life, a life she could never return to.
New York really only came alive at night, which suited Nadine just fine, since so did she. It was rife with vampires at the time she arrived, but then their numbers seemed to dissipate slightly. Now she rarely saw another of her kind.
Then again, vampires were extraordinarily good at keeping themselves hidden.
As she was.
She lived underground, in one of a multitude of tunnels criss-crossing the city. Home was a basement bunker which, blessedly, wasn't too close to any sewerage system.
She might be dead, but she still had standards.
Nadine walked alone, hunted alone, generally. But she did have one friend, or at least, the closest approximation to a friend a vampire could get.
Saul.
They had once been lovers, but the affair had ended fairly quickly. Because, dead or alive, no matter who Nadine took into her bed, her heart still cried out for Elliot. Which Saul, thankfully, had understood.
Only, it seemed that Elliot's death had been a little more permanent than hers.
Sitting there, in her 'apartment', littered with photos and artefacts she had acquired by fair means or foul, both old and new, hands clasped behind her head as she leaned back in her chair, Beethoven spilling out of a modern stereo system, Nadine looked like a woman both out of time and perfectly in it.
A contradiction. An anomaly.
In pride of place, on a rather battered dresser, was an old, sepia-toned photograph of Nadine, with Elliot. Both alive, his arm around her waist, both smiling into camera.
And now, both dead.
Nadine felt that utterly familiar twinge of regret and heartache-strange, how a heart that no longer beat could still hurt so much-at the thought of Elliot. It still seemed so unfair that he had died so suddenly, so pointlessly, before she could tell him of her pregnancy.
Before she could tell him she loved him.
Of course, if Elliot had lived long enough for her to tell him these things, she would probably have lost him anyway. She really didn't believe, even now, after all this time, that he had ever loved her. She had just been a warm body in his bed, a sexual object, someone he could hurt.
Someone who could hurt him.
Nadine made a low sound of frustration, before getting to her feet, slamming the chair back. As if on cue, the moment she got to the dresser and picked up the photograph, staring into Elliot's handsome, smiling face, the strains of Beethoven's "Für Elise" filled the small living space, and Nadine felt tears welling up.
Elliot had always loved that piece, had once told her, albeit when he was drunk, that it reminded him of her. A statement which she had laughed at, because it was such a passionate, loving piece of music, and it seemed ludicrous that it should have reminded Elliot of her.
And now, it would forever remind her of him.
The sudden, unexpected knock at the door interrupted Nadine's train of thought and she replaced the photo on the dresser, then turned in surprise. Nobody knew where she lived, except Saul, but he never came here. She always went to him, if she needed anything.
Thrusting open the door, she stared in shock at who she beheld behind it. Not Saul, but an attractive young woman, who looked vaguely familiar.
And extremely nervous.
Immediately on the defensive, Nadine said sharply, "Yes?" Swallowing hard, the young woman said, "Um...Nadine? You don't know me, but my name is Joey Summerskill. I'm a..."
"TV reporter." Now Nadine remembered where she'd seen this woman. But didn't care. What was she thinking, coming here? "I know who are you are, Miss Summerskill. I also know you shouldn't be here."
Looking even more nervous now, but commendably undeterred, Joey pressed, "But you are Nadine Jones?" Nadine came forward slowly, frowning. "If you know who I am, Miss Summerskill," she replied. "Then you probably also know what I am." Sensing something suddenly, she let out an amused snort. "Hence the crucifix currently tucked inside your blouse, am I right?" She added.
Nadine watched as the younger woman-considerably younger, obviously-took a step backwards, sudden terror flooding her features. "H-How did you know...?" She stammered. "I'm a vampire, Miss Summerskill." Came the reply. "All vampires have a certain, aversion, shall we say, to any form of religious iconography. But we can also sense them." She chuckled humourlessly, then added, "Crosses cannot kill or even hurt vampires. Neither can garlic, holy water, or Bibles. I believe you've seen too many movies."
Off Joey's frightened expression, Nadine leaned in closer, and concluded, "I strongly suggest you leave, Miss Summerskill. You shouldn't have come here, whatever it is you seek." Then, without a word, she turned her back to the reporter, and started to walk back inside.
"I need to talk to you about Elliot!"
Those words stopped Nadine dead in her tracks, her blood freezing in her veins.
She couldn't have said...
She spun on her heels, eyes wide, her gut feeling one of incredulity, but also...hope?
"What did you say?" She gasped, and Joey, obviously gaining a little more courage, said, "Elliot. Captain Elliot Spenser?"
Nadine felt like bursting into tears, and almost did, but now was not the time for silly melodramatics. What could this mortal, this child, possibly know about Elliot?
"Do you have any idea," she murmured, allowing herself the tiniest of smiles. "How long it's been since I've heard that name?" Standing aside, she opened the door, and told her, "You'd better come in."...
(Okay, not much happening here, but next chapter, Joey explains about Elliot, and how she found Nadine in the first place. But what does Joey-and Elliot, for that matter-want with Nadine? Stay tuned!)