Changes, Chapter 7

Down By One

By King Cobra3 (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)

WARNING: Language, violence.

SUMMARY: The clan is about to face off against a supernatural being, but in the end one gargoyle will die. What will happen? Who will live? Who won't? Read to the end of this trilogy to find out.

Scotland, 1985 A.D.

It was a cool night. The wind of the crisp evening air whistled through the tree branches scattered in the outlands, making an eerie sound. Crickets chirped their messages to the denizens of the night. It was a perfectly lovely night.

In the barn of one Scottish territory, a red-haired female gargoyle slept soundly, her breathing faint and calming, her eyes closed as she dreamed of far away places and a foretold danger, though she would not have known it at the time, of course.

~DEMONA~, the thing whispered to her, a dirty creature which hid in the darkness of her subconscious. Dark clouds hid his true form. Nevertheless, when Demona peered closely enough, she knew right away that this was someone, or something, from her past, but she was unable to identify this messenger.

He spoke. ~DEMONA...~

"What do you want of me, foul thing?" she asked the thing in her dream, her voice full of quiet rage.

~YOU KNOW FULL WELL OF WHAT I WANT. IT IS THE SAME THING THAT HAS KEPT YOU RUNNING FOR CENTURIES. IT IS THE SWEET, SWEET TASTE OF VENGENCE THAT YOU LONG FOR MOST. GO TO IT. DO WHAT YOU DESIRE MOST, BUT DO NOT FORGET THAT SOMEDAY SOON, YOUR VENGENCE WILL BE MINE AS WELL.~

Demona laughed in the back of her mind. "What are you, that you presume to request such foolishness of me? I am a gargoyle, and immortal besides!"

~I KNOW COMPLETELY WHAT YOU ARE. YOU ARE CHAOS. YOU ARE THE FACTOR FROM WHICH BLOOD WILL BE SPILLED AND FEAR WILL BE IMMINENT. YOU ARE BOTH A CURSE AND A BLESSING. I CAN FEEL YOUR RAGE, AND IT... IS... NURTURING... AS WELL AS PLEASANT. AWAKEN NOW, GARGOYLE.~

And she did, sweating profusely, hearing the chilling laughter, which was somehow familiar, and sending fear down her spine.

**********

Manhattan, 2003 A.D.

The human found himself in a dark cloud, an empty void of space where time had no existence. What was he doing here? Why was he at the castle with the other gargoyles? Looking down, he noticed his hands. His all too human hands. What the--?

Shaken with fear and caught off guard by his return to his human body, he trembled. Shaken by the sudden realization he was in human form again, he felt his hands grow cold and clammy, and his body began to tremble with fear. He was frightened, full of fear. He had gotten too used to his new body, and here he was, sucked back into his old one. It freaked him out.

That was when he saw the others. All familiar faces. Anguishing memories of his past that he thought he had locked away deep down forever. Yet here they were, as was he. Here to torment him emotionally. Re-picking old wounds all over again.

They beckoned him. Reached for him.

They were here to reclaim him. Everyone who had wronged him in his life. His parents, who had abused and then abandoned him. His ex-girlfriend, whom he had discovered fucking his best friend upon coming home from work early. She who had sent him to becoming an alcoholic for three months. His former boss, who had been nothing more then a raving madman. The man had beaten him harshly with his fists if he failed to live up to the company's expectations. His well-being had also been threatened numerous times, resulting in Ethan being filled with a deep dark mistrust of other humans.

They all wanted him. Shadows of his wretched past that stretched to connect with his present. The youth was petrified.

~You can't have me!~ His mind screamed. ~None of you matter! None of you are here! You can't be here! This is only a FUCKING DREAM!~

~Oh, no, Ethan,~ came the voiceless whisper, trailing on the wind like autumn leaves, the quiet fear and hatred recognizable to the former human who was now a gargoyle. ~We are quite real.~ The old mental stress that had plagued Ethan Mueller for years before becoming dormant rose back up to the surface, and he whimpered in anguish. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't!

Tears ran down his cheeks as he felt like his soul was being ripped apart by this assault, this return of past worries. Quite suddenly, his sadness became fierce anger.

Ethan roared, his human eyes suddenly flashing bright spools of nuclear-powered white light. He charged his old demons, ripping them apart with his now taloned hands. He was slowly turning back into a gargoyle, and he used that to his advantage, clawing his old scars apart. They vanished like mists of smoke with each attack, until there was nothing left. No one there but the gray gargoyle who was down on his knees, panting for air, the sense of exhaustion racing through him.

Kain got up slowly, breathing heavily as he tried to get himself under control. This was a dream, that's all. A terrible nightmare that would end the second the sunlight did.

Feeling suddenly that something was wrong, Kain looked down and saw himself back in the Quarrymen uniform, which oddly enough was not affected by his massive wings, and his misshapen feet. In his hands was a quarryhammer, activated and ready for usage. Kain couldn't handle this dream anymore.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!

**********

Kain broke out of his stone shell with a petrified scream. His terror at being a quarryman again, the fear of being a threat against those he loved, washed out of his dream and into his conscious state. He dropped to his knees in emotional exhaustion. The others, all minus Demona whom were also breaking off gravel, noticed this. The flame haired gargess saw her mate's anguish, and she asked worriedly, "My love, is something wrong?" Kain was shaking too hard from fear and bewilderment to answer her.

Noticing his charge's anguish, Goliath leaped over to Kain's perch, where he proceeded to place a comforting hand on his distraught friend's shoulder. Complete shock was on Kain's face. The clan leader became extremely concerned for the new one's well-being.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Kain lied, hoping that Goliath would believe it. "Just nightmares from... well, you know, my days as a Quarryman." That edge, the tone of voice that appeared whenever Kain wasn't telling the truth, came out, and he hoped Goliath wasn't able to tell.

Goliath COULD see that he was lying, though. Kain, since joining the clan, had been composed and laid-back in every crisis. Keeping a clear head in any situation. Nothing ever bothered Kain, but tonight the clan leader could easily recognize the signs of deceit. Namely, that seriously casual "maybe he won't know I'm lying" factor in Kain's voice at this moment.

Goliath debated silently, trying to decide whether to carry the point further, then saw no need for such continued arguments. "Very well, then," The clan's leader rumbled, moving comfortingly but swiftly away from Kain's side, leaving the gray creature to his recovery, allowing Kain's shattered nerves to soothe. Goliath then faced the rest of the clan, most of whom were shooting pitied expressions of Kain's quaking form.

"The city has been out of control lately. Perhaps it is best that we go on patrol," the large purple behemoth commanded, keeping his voice as deeply leveled as normal. Goliath was questioning about Kain's current status, but chose to keep it buried until he could talk with the youth later that evening, perhaps after they all returned safely.

Demona watched, and waited, as Goliath flew off with the others on patrol. She and Kain were the only ones left at the castle, with the obvious exception of Bronx, who had curled up on the tower's stony floor and went to sleep. The flame-haired former she-devil looked at her mate. "Now, once again... What is wrong?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"What makes you say that?" Demona asked, and there was a definite challenge to her tone right then. "The ego of the human male?"

Kain grinned, still a little panicked but recovering. "Something like that, yeah."

"Don't play games with me, Ethan. I do not enjoy being toyed with." Demona's old scowl, the unfriendly glare of hatred left over from her days of old, and the gray gargoyle smirked arrogantly.

Kain glanced at her casually, his edgy mood returning. "So I see. What the clan has told me about you was all true. You DO have a bad temper."

Demona's eyes flared that usual reddish tint and Kain flinched, afraid she'd claw his eyes out right then and there. But she decided not to. Without a warning, without say one word to her mate, Demona turned and leaped off the tower, opening her wings, and flew away. Kain could tell she had a lot to think about right now, a lot to be remorseful over, and it was his fault. Sure, he'd had a restless sleep, but why did he rub it in his love's face?

It was hard enough for her to completely redeem her past actions without her mate bringing it up. He sighed, feeling ashamed. He began wondering if it was too late for an apology. Kain wondered if apologizing for his bluntness would heal her hurt right now.

Listening to her fierce warrior's scream as she glided into the distance, Kain wondered if things would ever be the same again between him and the gargoyle of his dreams.

**********

He sat silently, his long blue tinted legs dangling out on the edge of the tower, his clawed toes high above the city below. Broadway had a lot on his mind right now, and for once, it wasn't about food. The big gargoyle was concerned about the status of the clan. So much had happened lately, all of it involving Demona and Kain. Demona reforming. Kain, an ex Qiarryman, joining the clan. Then Kain's metamorphosis, both physically and mentally. His transformation into a gargoyle, and his newly-cast life of immortality, which hadn't been a hoax.

The other night, the Quarryman had attacked the gargoyles on their patrol, forcing them by helicopter into a small alley in the middle of town, where the hooded bigots had attacked physically, shooting those laser guns at Lex and Angela, knocking them both out in the process.

Kain had fought alongside Brooklyn and Hudson. Broadway had seen a quarryman sneak up on Kain and whacked him on the back of the head with the quarryhammer, knocking Kain to the ground and spilling his brains out of his ears, before Goliath and Demona had ambushed the quarryman, knocking him out. Then they had checked Kain over, searching for signs for life. Goliath had looked up a few seconds later and had declared that Kain had no pulse. No heartbeat.

Thinking back to that night, Broadway recalled the surprise he had felt when Kain had simply gotten to his feet, still alive, but a glazed look in his eye. The brains had disappeared from the ground, almost by magic. Everyone had seemed stunned when they realized that a "dead" gargoyle was still alive and that there wasn't even any blood upon him. No apparent injuries, either.

The only thing that had befallen Kain was dizziness. Obviously, that must've been part of Titania's immortality spell she had placed upon Kain in his dreams, to be hurt badly to the brink of death and still survive in one piece, with no apparent pain whatsoever.

Then, there was Demona. The former evil gargoyle and her so-called "reawakening". She claimed that she was back on their side again, but the rotund gargoyle still had a habit every night of wondering what evil scheme the she-devil was plotting. Then he would remember that she was "good". However, given what had happened in the past, he still did not trust Demona. Not even five percent of him believed that she had fully changed.

Broadway had spent every moment, of every night, waiting for her to snap. When she hadn't by sundown, he usually shrugged to himself inwardly and vowed silently to spend the next evening watching her every move. After a while, however, that got to be redundant.

Plus that would've made Angela, his mate, suspicious. The last thing Broadway wanted to do was jeopardize his relationship with the most beautiful gargoyle in the world because he didn't trust her mother. He knew that Angela adored Demona, if only in the maternal sense, and if he openly berated Demona, his future with her would be put on the backburner. Angela would probably decide to back out of their relationship and chase one of the others, which he did not want to have to suffer through.

Maybe she would pick Brooklyn, since he was probably the second best choice. Lex was too much a computer nut to suit Angie's tastes and would probably have bored her senselessly, jabbering about anti-virus firewalls and electronic mail. Brooklyn was a tactful fighter, smart, wise, and ruthless. He could see the line from beginning to end when analyzing a plan, and he was Angela's intellectual match.

It was because of all this that Broadway did not challenge Demona. He did not want to lose the great thing he had going with Angela. So he kept his opinions closed inward.

Thinking these pondering perspectives, he found himself torn out of his thoughts by a hand slinking itself onto his shoulder, and he whipped around, prepared to fight any enemy that would threaten him at this moment, but relaxed and smiled warmly when he saw who his companion was.

"Hey, Angie. Lovely evening, isn't it?"

She sat on her haunches next to him, staring at the dark, distant horizon of Manhattan. From way up there one can see, provided that they had a good pair of binoculars, all the way to the shores of Ontario, Canada. "It is beautiful." Angela smiled at her mate.

Broadway looked at her just in time to see that smile, that lovely serene expression that he always made him flutter deep down in his soul, fade away, replaced by an expression of curiosity. "What's wrong?"

Broadway shrugged. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Stuff," was all Broadway said. Angela waited for a few seconds, hoping he would say more. When he didn't, she sighed, annoyed slightly, and touched his hand gently.

"Let me guess. You're worried about my mother. Am I right?"

"Not at all," her mate lied, that tone of his voice giving away that she was indeed right. Angela sighed again and looked at him sternly. She didn't believe him. She knew he had just lied to her.

"Look, Broadway, it's not an act, okay? My mother is really and truly a good guy now. You don't have to be suspicious of her. She'll never hurt you, or me, or any of the others ever again."

"I wish I could be sure of that." Broadway mumbled, sounding absolutely adamant. "After all the things that that bitch has put us through, why shouldn't I be weary of her presence?"

Angela glared at him, suddenly hating him for doubting her mother. This was her mate, and she loved him, but she occasionally wondered what she saw in him. Yes, he had a nice heart and was a kind person, but when he questioned her judgment, about trusting Demona, she just got a little agitated with him, as she would with any of the others if any of them ever spoke trash about her mother.

"So what are you saying? That she doesn't deserve to be trusted?!"

"That's now what I meant," was his response. Angela could literally hear Broadway's heart breaking, but she didn't care. She was too pissed. "Broadway, she was evil because she spent hundreds of years by herself! Do you know what that's like, to be all alone, knowing that no one will ever care? No, of course not!"

She took a quick breath and continued, bitterly. "You were stone cold for ten centuries. How could YOU know what an eternity of solitude would be like? For a long time, her loneliness fueled her rage, gave her reason to hate us. Because we all had each other, and she had nobody. Her lonely existence gave her motive to hurt and kill." Her voice rose sharply, and Broadway just stared at the city uncomfortably, not looking at her. "But now she has us! Now she's not alone, and you still think she hates us?!" Angela's eyes flared that hellish crimson. "You'd better change your opinion, my love, or YOU may end up with no one to care for you."

"I'm sorry, but it's just – she's been such a bitch to us for so long, it's hard to admit, een to myself, that she's different now, that's all."

"Watch it, Broadway," her voice was steely, and it briefly reminded him of Demona's voice, from the old days, whenever an evil plan went sour. He flinched at how hostile Angela sounded, how defensive, and then decided that she had a right to be. After all, good or evil, ally or enemy, Demona was still Angela's mother, and nothing would ever change that. Broadway knew that what he had just said had pissed off his mate badly, and he sighed, defeated in this argument.

"Sorry."

"You're forgiven," Angela's voice softened and she gave him a peacefully content smile. Broadway smiled back for a second, and then looked down into the city below. From way up there, he could hear the usual city noise, such as the human cars honking their horns, and it made him think more.

Perhaps Demona really was changed. This might not be a trick, after all. Broadway thought back, and then realized something. When Demona had been a traitor, she had been angry, quick-tempered. But lately, with the ever comforting presence of Kain and the others around her, she hadn't even raised her voice at anyone for any reason in a long time. Now, she was more relaxed, more at home with her clan. Happy.

If she wasn't happy, the clan would've been dust and rubble long ago, smashed to pieces by her. But she had never laid a finger against them in their stone sleep, hadn't smashed them. Broadway knew that the old Demona would not have been so merciful, so hesitant to destroy them.

He knew right then that Angela was right. Demona was no longer their adversary.

"Maybe you're right, Angie," he whispered, almost unable to get the words out. She glanced at him, waiting, expecting, hoping for him to keep talking. "You're right. Demona is on our side now. She's one of us, no matter what she's done in the past. What's done is done. We can't change that. But... maybe... I can learn to trust her again."

Broadway looked to see her reaction. Angela's face lit up with joy, and she kissed him.

**********

The sun rose several hours later, turning her clan into concrete statues, and reducing Demona into that frail human she lovingly referred to as Dominique Destine. She had the day off from work, and was reclined in her living quarters of the castle, established by Xanatos after her return to the clan, sleeping soundly in her bed. Her gentle breathing was interrupted only by the sounds of her disturbed sleep.

"No... I can't... not again..."

**********

She was back in that depressing blackness. The darkness hid the shadow well enough, but she could hear him, or her, or it, well enough. It called out to her, the demons of her past reaching out to stain the peace of her present existence with its' twisted evil.

~DEMONA. KILL THEM ALL...~

"No," she whispered, trying in vain to block out the twisted, decayed voice of this foul monstrosity, trying not to hear it, attempting futilely to wish it away. It didn't work. The creature was still there, and nothing would drive it away.

~DESTROY YOUR CLAN, FOR THEY DESPISE YOU. GIVEN THE RIGHT CIRCUMSTANCES, THEY WOULD NOT HESITATE TO BETRAY YOU. TO MAKE YOU SUFFER THE SAME WAY YOU'VE MADE THEM SUFFER.~

"No... it's not true... it couldn't be true... You lie..."

The thing laughed. ~HEH HEH HEH. DO I?~

And then it was gone.

**********

Dominqie awoke swiftly, her head throbbing in pain. Apparently, she had been so distressed by her vision, it had given her a migraine in her sleep. The woman went into her bathroom, filling a Dixie cup with the sinks' water and downing it along with two advils. She leaned against the sink, staring at her haggard reflection. Her scalp was flat-haired and sticking all over the place, as though she had stuck her finger into an electrical socket while standing in a pool of water. Her face was even worse. Her eyes looked bloodshot, and she had bags under her eyes.

"Good things the girls at work can't see me now..." She said to the empty air of the room.

That actually struck her as funny, and she chuckled for a few seconds. Her laughter faded quickly, though, giving way to a frown, as the memory of her dream flooded back, and Demona felt a keen sense of danger approaching. Something evil was coming, and she knew it would change her and her clan forever.

Was that what the dream had been all about? Was it a forewarning, a vision from her subconscious, intended to help her avert this evil? No, that was impossible.

But if it wasn't possible, why did she still feel unease?

**********

He smiled sadistically, putting the plan together in his foul mind as he observed the events unfolding before him. The demon and her mate in rage, the dreams he had orchestrated taking their tolls on both of them. The demon and the gray one were vital to his plans. It would not be long now.

He was ecstatic. The clan thought that things were bad now? They had no idea of what was about to befall them. Just wait. The suffering they would endure at his hands would make the fights seem pleasant by comparison. Their world was about to collapse.

He laughed sinisterly. It was almost time...

To Be Continued...

Coming Soon: Changes 8.