This is a story is based on the Gargoyles universe created by Greg Wiseman and Michael Reaves. Gargoyles and related characters are registered trademarks of Buena Vista Television and Walt Disney Studios. The stories and characters not described above are original creations of T'Layna MacMathain, and Poison Thorns Productions. Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved.
Resurrection
By
T'Layna MacMathain
Chapter 4
The Rescue
There was something dark and foreboding about today. I should have stayed home in bed, the twenty-three-year-old strawberry blonde woman with the emerald eyes thought. Of all the screwed up shitty luck, she thought grimly. Serena Danfield was dying. She could feel the warm stickiness of her blood soaking her blouse from the bullet wounds in her side and shoulder. Serena weakly reached up to her bloody shoulder, oblivious to the pain as she felt her energy slowly leaving her. She also saw the other two people, both quite dead.
The day started out innocuously enough. After a modest breakfast of cereal, coffee and orange juice, Serena dressed in a pair of black jeans and a powder blue tank top with three kittens embroidered across the front. As she finished off the final touches, she began thinking of her school day. She was hoping Professor Keller in her math class was in a better mood, not that the old fart ever lightened up. As the day progressed, school proved to be pretty much a typical day for her. She then went home to get ready for work. An hour later, Serena caught the bus to the transfer point where she would catch another bus that would take her to work. While at the bus stop, she engaged in some chitchat with a young man and a woman her age already at the bus stop.
She noticed the black sedan heading down the street toward her, but paid little mind to it. She was looking for a bus to take her to work. She removed a CD player from her fanny pack and changed the CD. As she glanced up the street to check for the bus, the black sedan was now only fifty feet away when she saw the guns. She suddenly felt a tremendous force slam into her shoulder and side as her ears filled with the roar of semiautomatic weapon fire. Damn, I finally get out of high school and into college and land a dream job in San Francisco only to be taken down in something as stupid as a drive-by shooting. She began to cry.
As Serena lay bleeding to death, a well-dressed woman in a luxury car came down the lonely road and spotted the carnage. A highly successful executive running her own major corporation, she looked every bit the part. She was dressed in a conservative navy blue knee-length dress with matching jacket. Her deep red hair was carefully done in a style that both understated as much as it enhanced her natural beauty. Like most top executives running a multinational corporation, she had multiple offices scattered all over the world. This week, she had to be in San Francisco to personally supervise negotiations of a lucrative deal with four other major corporations.
Normally, the driver of the car couldn't have cared less to see three people shot up, but there was something about the young blonde woman that caught her eye. How many times have I seen that look? She pulled over and got out of the car.
With the sadness of a wounded puppy, the wounded girl looked up at the red-haired executive. "Help me..." she weakly coughed. The woman examined the young college student and shook her head. She also felt a wave of internal conflict wash over her. What is it with this girl and why does she move me so? The young woman was trying to speak again. "Help me...don't let me die alone...please." There was something in the way that Serena said that that moved the executive's otherwise remorseless, stone-cold heart. With a rarely seen tear of compassion, the executive spoke a few words in Latin and touched the girl with her now glowing hand. She then gathered up the severely wounded girl with surprising strength and placed her in her car.
Serena drifted in and out of consciousness during the ride. She had no idea where she was, but assumed the mysterious woman was taking her to a hospital. She looked at the driver and weakly said "Thank you...my name...is...Serena...Danfield..." before lapsing into unconsciousness again.
The executive's globetrotting business deals also required her to remain in various locations for varying periods. Like most travelling businesspersons, she soon grew tired of the hotel circuit. Unlike most traveling executives she was more than able to afford the residences she owned in fifteen cities scattered all across the planet. When the car pulled into the garage of the swanky high-rise apartment complex, the executive carried the unconscious woman into the private elevator that led to her penthouse. Once inside, she gently laid the injured woman on a bed.
The executive looked once again at the dying girl. She'll be lucky to live through the night. She reflected with a touch of sadness. She had no illusions about the extent of Serena's injuries. So typical of the humans to kill their children. Still, she could not get the girl's plea out of her mind. It was like some spell had been cast. I will have to move fast if I am to save her. At that moment, the proverbial light bulb lit up inside her mind. She will be the perfect subject for my new spell.
The executive then went to another room in her spacious apartment. Unlike the other doors in her apartment, this one was equipped with an electronic lock. She spoke a few words into the lock's terminal and the door slid aside with a soft hiss. The room contained a laboratory of sorts. She then pulled a very old book from a shelf and opened it up and quickly flipped over to the desired page and quickly scanned the contents.
The executive laid the open book on the lab table, then went over to a cabinet and began collecting some powders, elixirs and herbs. She quickly mixed several powders and herbs together with several different liquids. The end result was a liquid that emitted a soft blue glow. She then sealed the bottle and closed the book. She then grabbed yet another vial of herbs and left her lab.
Serena had again awakened and saw executive had returned to her bedroom and began lighting some candles and a censer. "What are...you ...doing?" Serena asked, coughing between words.
"No more questions. I am here to help." She then chanted a few words as she sprinkled an unknown herbal mixture on the charcoal in the censer. A few wisps of blue smoke soon issued forth from the holes in the brass censer. She then carried the censer to the girl. "Breathe the fumes. It will help with the pain." Serena did as she asked, taking in several whiffs of the mysterious sweet-smelling smoke. A deep feeling of calmness and serenity filled her pain-wracked body. She then handed the elixir to Serena, instructing her to swallow the contents. Serena looked briefly at her rescuer and weakly said "Thank you."
The executive gently patted the wounded girl. "You will not die alone." Serena soon felt very sleepy, but was determined to find out who her rescuer was. With supreme effort of will, Serena asked the woman her name.
"My name is Dominique. Dominique Destine." Serena smiled again.
"Thank you so much, Dominique..." Serena drifted off into a deep sleep.
Dominique sighed and opened the ancient text and began reciting the terms of a spell in Latin. A soft blue glow enveloped Serena, then subsided. Serena had been turned into stone. Dominique though herself quite exhausted from the energy of casting her spell was satisfied with the results.
* * *
Nightfall descended a couple of hours later and Dominique once again went through the painful metamorphosis that would return her into her original form. She had no sooner returned to her Gargoyle form than she heard the sound of cracking stone.
A strikingly beautiful Gargoyle emerged from the stone shell with an ear-splitting roar. Serena was now a dark tan color with black wings with three-digit tips. Her head now sported two curved horns that gave her a very demonic appearance. Serena almost jumped at the sound of her roaring scream. Did I make that awful noise? What happened to my voice? She then realized that she had indeed changed somehow. She immediately noticed her skin color had changed and that she had lost her hands and now had some kind of paws on each arm. As Serena began to take in the extent of her changes, she began to feel dizzy and started crying.
"Please do not be alarmed," a soft feminine voice said. Serena looked toward the source of the voice and found another creature not too dissimilar to her own form. She was a light blue color with red-black hair and dressed in a white loincloth and a matching white halter-top of some kind of animal skin with one shoulder. The creature also wore a gold crown and a gold arm bracelet on her upper left arm. She also had bat-like wings of purple.
"Who are you? Where's Dominique?" Serena asked nervously.
"I am Demona," she replied sweetly, "Dominique is my daytime form. At nightfall, I become a Gargoyle like you are."
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" Serena screeched her eyes now aglow with red fire. Demona gently placed her paw on the girl's shoulder.
"I tried to heal your wounds, but the damage was too great. You were dying, and I decided to change you to a Gargoyle. It was the only way I could save your life." Demona gently reassured the confused young Gargoyle. Serena sighed as she relaxed and began crying again.
"I'm sorry, Demona," Serena sobbed, still very shaken, "I suppose I should thank you. All this was a bit much to handle at once." Serena then embraced Demona and began crying on her shoulder. Demona wrapped her soft wings around the young Gargess and gently caressed her head.
"Rest assured, Serena, I will never allow harm to come to you."
* * *
Elisa and the Gargoyles arrived just after midnight at SFO in one of David Xanatos' private jets. Goliath and his two companions slipped away in the shadows, climbed up the control tower and launched themselves into the night. Elisa collected the baggage in the terminal building and was heading to the taxi stand when she spotted a familiar man wearing a tan trench coat.
"Matthew Bluestone!" Elisa shouted. The man winced as he heard Elisa's voice. "Matt, what are you doing in San Francisco?" she demanded.
"Uh...I am on vacation. That Chinese smuggler case wore me out." He nervously replied.
"Yeah, right," Elisa snorted, "Matt...I know you...someone practically has to stick a gun to your head to get you to take your vacations. Now what is the REAL reason you are here?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, Captain Chavez insisted," Bluestone replied defensively. Elisa narrowed her eyes and snorted derisively. I'll believe that when alligators fly out of the sewers. "What are YOU doing here, Elisa?"
"I'm here on special assignment," Elisa replied matter-of-factly. A taxi pulled up and the cabby began loading Elisa's baggage into the trunk.
"You came alone?" Matt replied, with one eye cocked suspiciously. Elisa chuckled.
"You should know better, Matt," she sweetly replied as she entered the cab, closing the door in Matt's face and ending the conversation on the note of the slamming cab door.
Unbeknownst to the two New York detectives, another New Yorker was discretely observing them as well. Jerry O'Connor was about fifteen feet away and immediately recognized both detectives. Hmmm that's Elisa Maza, and there's always something going on with her. He was also well aware of the fact that wherever Maza went, Goliath and his clan was never far behind. Sunshine was right...something's going on here, and I am going to find out!
* * *
Inspector Fujimori was furious. He was scanning the NCIC reports that came in from NYPD. None of this crap makes any damned sense! As he continued reading, the stranger the content of the report became. Whatever they are smoking in the Big Apple's a lot better than the weed here in SF. Inspector Fujimori chuckled at his joke, but the chuckle turned into a frown when he came across the pictures. Picture One looked almost exactly like the footprint he found at the beach, only larger. Picture Two depicted the source of Picture One. Namely a brown, muscular, winged humanoid with a beaked face; two long horns and white hair. According to the photo data, the creature was quite powerful. Damn Sam! I'd hate to meet that joker without a tank!
The data also said the winged creature had a name: Brooklyn. Still, he could not deny the picture of the footprint and a picture of the creature that made the footprint. Are there Gargoyles in San Francisco? The evidence sure pointed in that direction. According to the file, all these Gargoyles had run-ins with the law, but nothing they could be convicted of, though some of the charges were quite serious.
There were other pictures as well depicting the entire Manhattan clan. There was also one other picture as well: A very attractive blue Gargoyle with red-black hair named Demona. As he scanned her file, his stomach began churning. Jesus Christ, this one could give Hitler lessons in mass murder and death. A thought crossed his mind and he picked up the phone.
"Maggie, this is Inspector Fujimori in Sex Crimes. I need you to call NYPD and get in touch with a Detective Elisa Maza and a Detective Matt Bluestone in Manhattan. I'm going downstairs to Forensics. Call me the minute you get word."
* * *
Trucido was born in darkness: not the warm, safe darkness of the womb or rookery, but a fetid, dank place that reeked of evil, misery and death. For more than thousand years, he resided in a special kind of darkness. Though Trucido was a creature of the dark, this dark place was one he hated and despised. He was not here by choice. In fact, he was trapped here. Like all prisons, if there is a way in, there is a way out. Trucido knew this, and one day he would be free once again to wreak havoc on the world and the people who sent him here to be lost and forgotten. Unknown to him, and to the world at large, his rescuer was plotting his release.
* * *
Dr. Eddie Quinn looked every bit the mad scientist type. Like most scientific types, he wore a stained lab coat with his ID badge on front if it. The horn-rimmed glasses with the large lenses gave him the bookworm look one would expect of a classic scientist. Though he was well over six feet tall with unkempt sandy blonde hair, he was very slender in build. As a result, he was known to most as the "Beanpole Brainiac" by most of his colleagues in Forensics. Though his look was somewhat comical, there was nothing funny about his mind. Dr. Quinn was quite sharp and thought unconventionally, a skill that comes in very useful to urban police departments like San Francisco PD.
"Hi Inspector!" Quinn replied with a grin.
"Hello, Dr. Quinn," Inspector Fujimori replied as he laid a stack of papers in front of Quinn, "I have a problem. These pics came from an NCIC run from NYPD. This one over here is a footprint from a 261 at the beach a few nights ago. Can you give me a work-up on the size of the creature that made this print and compare it with the ones in these pics?"
"Sure, Inspector. Give me a day or two."
"There was a black backpack found at the scene. It was black nylon, medium sized and had a bird finger on the back."
"That one was easy," Quinn replied, "though it didn't have any ID on it, there were prints aplenty. The pack belongs to Belynda Flores, age 23, Caucasian male-to-female transsexual. She was picked up a year ago on suspicion of shoplifting, but released due to lack of evidence. Judging from the contents of her pack, I'd say she is homeless."
"How do you come to those conclusions?"
"One, there was two bottles of estrogen inside with her name and prints. The prescriptions are valid. My lover is a transsexual, and she takes the same kind of pills in similar dosages. Secondly, the pack's contents are consistent with a camping or homeless shelter lifestyle. There were two blankets, a plastic tarp, a battery-powered lantern, a couple of pieces of nylon rope about 3 meters long and a camper's knife. There was a lot of grass stains on her blankets. I also found bed lottery tickets from one of the shelters."
"Any other drugs?"
"Marijuana, 2.2 grams in a plastic box. You do have a drug charge here."
"Not really...no direct evidence," the Inspector sighed, "She can say we planted it. Considering the charge is a misdemeanor, it's hardly worth the effort. We need to find her and pick her up."
"What charge?"
"Material witness. I think she's the vic in this case." Quinn nodded in understanding as Inspector Fujimori's cell phone rang.
"Fujimori here."
"Inspector, I just got off the line with NYPD," Maggie continued, "Detective Bluestone is on vacation, whereabouts unknown. Detective Maza is here in San Francisco on special assignment."
"See if you can run down Maza and ask her to come to my office or call me."
"No problem, Inspector," Maggie replied sweetly.
* * *
Demona and Serena spent the early part of the evening learning flight instruction and some basic training about the mechanics of Gargoyle flight and combat. Serena proved to be a very adept student as she absorbed Demona's instruction with the eagerness of any Gargoyle hatchling. Though shocked and even angry at first, Serena soon fell in love with her new form and the ability to fly. This sure beats the hell at listening to Professor Keller's droning voice at school or that bitch Mrs. Long. Much to Demona's delight, Serena showed all the classic instincts that any Gargoyle would.
Demona herself was going through a lot of emotional changes as she instructed her new student. For the first time in more than nine centuries, she felt a maternal bond that she thought had been lost centuries ago with Macbeth's betrayal. With my new spell, I will have a clan of my own, and I will teach them properly. We will restore our rightful place on this human infested world, and we will rule this world as we were meant to. Goliath and his clan had better just beware! Four hours later, Serena and Demona landed on a rooftop in San Francisco's Outer Richmond district.
"How are you feeling, my young student?"
"I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed, Demona. At first, I was very angry with you for what you did to me, but as I felt the wind under my wings, I felt more natural and at ease with myself than I have ever known. Please don't feel offended, I am very grateful for you saving my life, but I am so confused."
"I would be surprised if you weren't," admitted Demona with a warm smile, "The spell I cast on you would have only worked if you had Gargoyle blood in your ancestry. Apparently, one of your ancient ancestors mated with one of my kind, and their descendents carried the genetic trait through your bloodline. Your instincts are also very much Gargoyle. I have merely returned you to your true form."
"I'm also feeling a very strong attachment to you. Granted, you saved my life, and I will always be forever grateful, but I am also feeling a very powerful bond with you. I see you as more like a mother figure. I don't know why." Demona smiled.
"That is also your Gargoyle instincts coming to the fore. Gargoyles instinctively form clans for mutual protection. We are natural-born protectors, and we live to defend and protect our clan. In a Gargoyle clan, all Gargoyles protect and nurture each other. We don't have families in the sense of humans, where each human child is cared for by the parents that bore them. In a Gargoyle clan, all the adults care and nurture the young as well as each other. Oddly enough, family lineage is not important to Gargoyles. Many of us often do not know exactly who our parents were. We are raised in a common rookery, cared for and protected by the adult Gargoyles."
"What happens if a hatchling's parents get killed?"
"It doesn't matter, my child. The other adults assume responsibility for raising the hatchling. Unlike humans, we never abandon our hatchlings...ever. Even within a rookery, Gargoyle hatchlings bond and will protect each other from threats, real or perceived. We refer to those that were in the rookery with us are 'rookery brother' or 'rookery sister'." Demona smiled with delight as Serena's eyes took on an ominous red glow.
"I can't see how so many people can let their children suffer if their parents are unable to care for them," Serena spat angrily.
"Humans care little for their own young," Demona sadly replied, "Never trust humans fully...ever. They are a treacherous species." Demona then explained to her how humans betrayed Demona's clan at both Castle Moray and at Castle Wyvern. Demona's story was interrupted on several occasions by angry growls by Serena.
"Wow! That explains a lot. I do feel very protective of you."
"As I do with you, my child," Demona replied lovingly, "I will also destroy this planet if necessary to protect you. As far as I am concerned, you are clan, and Gargoyles defend their clan until their final breath." Serena embraced Demona and wrapped her wings around the ancient Gargess and kissed her gently on the cheek."
"As long as I live, Demona, I will also protect and defend you until my life ends. I swear it with all my heart." Demona's only response was a silent tear from her eyes.
* * *
Goliath, Hudson and Angel had remained in low orbit over SFO until they spotted Elisa entering the cab and silently followed the taxi as it sped its way from the airport. About thirty minutes later, the cab let Elisa off at the downtown hotel she was to stay at during her time in San Francisco. Once Elisa was safely ensconced in her room, the three Manhattan Gargoyles spent much of the night gliding around looking for the presence of the other Gargoyles that was alluded to back in New York. They paid no attention to the fact that another taxi followed Elisa's cab all the way to her hotel.
* * *
Eldon Farris was having a bad day. First of all, his boss had been nothing but an asshole all day long. It seemed like the sadistic bastard went out of his way to make today a living hell for him. As his workday went on, his boss became even more abrasive and abusive. When five o'clock rolled around, his boss called him into his office and fired him. When Eldon asked him why, his boss responded with a string of scathing insults and abuse. Eldon responded by punching his boss viciously in the nose, breaking it.
When he drove home, he stopped into a local bar and had a couple of stiff drinks. As it often happens with alcohol, instead of relaxing him, it only made him angrier. Less than two miles from the bar, he got rear-ended while waiting for a traffic light. When he saw the damage done to his precious car, he exploded in anger and struck the woman in the jaw with his fist, then savagely beat the poor woman into unconsciousness. He then returned to his car and drove off into the waning daylight.
"I'll have my revenge on them all!" Eldon screamed.