Episode 13:
'All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, Going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, No expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrows
No tomorrow, No tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad
These dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles its a very very
Mad World, Mad World'
- 'Mad World', byGary Jules-
The streets were wet although there was no rain. It wasn't necessary: the wetness never seemed to leave the pavement, as the fog never abandoned the air.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to scrutinize the way ahead through the myst. A faint, eerie light illuminated a deserted alley full of trembling shadows. Without thinking, without hesitating, she rushed into it. There was no time to think, no time to waste: they were coming. They were coming after her, and if they got her... If they got her, then all would be over.
Her feet barely touched the ground, almost not making no sound at all, as she ran for her life. The walls surrounding her blurred, and her sight blurred too so she no longer saw where she was heading, but she did not stop running. She couldn't.
She tried not to think about what would happen if she faltered, tried not to think in the way they were getting closer by every passing second, and instead focused on placing one foot in front of the other. Step by step, she was trying to escape from her hunters. Step by step, she was trying to escape from her fate. But her fate was already sealed.
She saw the brick wall in front of her a second too late, and barely had time to stretch out her arms before collapsing against it. As she saw bright stars dancing in front of her eyes, she heard a ringing laughter in her ears.
She didn't want to turn around. She already knew what she'd see.
Monsters. They looked human, but they were monsters. And she, she was the worst of them all, with her clear eyes and her golden hair, with her ivory fingers and her killer stare...
'Dear, dear girl. You have certainly been fun to hunt.'
And she felt a tight grip on her shoulders as she was forced to turn around, and her eyes met blue ones turned golden, an angelic face turning into its demoniac visage, and as the fangs buried on her neck, red blood stained the pavement.
Darla woke up with a start.
It took her a moment to realise she wasn't in the shadowed alley anymore, but in the familiar surroundings of her bedroom.
Her mouth was dry, her fingers had twisted the sheets and a thin layer of cold sweat covered her body. Had she been human, her heart would would have been pounding inside her chest and she would have been panting. But she was no human, and a lot of time had passed since the last time she'd panted out of nerves.
She pushed away the covers, turned and jumped from the bed. The floor was shiveringly cold under her feet, but that was okay. Cold was nice, cold she was used to.
She walked through the platinum myst that engulfed the hallway, and altered as she walked by the patterns and the shapes the shadows and the moonlight had drawn on the floor.
Once in the kitchen, she walked straight to the fridge, opened it and took out a jar of juice. She drank right from it, not bothering to look for a glass. She drank until there was not a single drop of juice left, she drank although she knew her thirst wouldn't be satisfied with mere juice. But she couldn't drink blood right now, not right after the dream.
When she left the jar on the table with a clatter, she realised that her hands were shaking from the memory.
Take a grip, Darla.
She closed her eyes. Images of the dream flooded to her mind, the terror in the girl's eyes, her vibrant blood painting London's eternally wet pavement, the sweet taste of fear on her lips...
Her eyes snapped wide open. Don't go there..
Instead, she kept her eyes open. The kitchen was covered in shadows that created the illusion of movement and gave the impression that there were things lurking in the dark.
Darla shook her head. She couldn't believe that she, one of the most feared vampires in history, was afraid of the dark. And yet, since she'd gotten her soul back, she hadn't felt as comfortable with darkness as she'd once been. As she'd told Spike once, she no longer truly belonged to the night. Once, night had been her playground. Now, it was the time when ghosts came to haunt her.
For some strange reason, Darla dreamed very rarely of those she'd killed or destroyed. Instead, her dreams were haunted by all those she hadn't been able to save: Molly, Vi, and the other Potentials fallen dead at her feet; those poor people that were slaughtered when she didn't get in time to save them during her patrols, and so many others...
And sometimes, her dreams were tainted with visions of a dark future, in which she was the only one standing in a never-ending desert covered with dead bodies, and there was blood, always the same damned blood on her hands... And she knew that blood, like Lady Macbeth's, wouldn't wash away no matter how hard she tried... It was the blood of the innocent, staining her hands once more. And this time, there was no salvation possible for her.
She shook her head. She was starting to sound like Angel. He was always brooding because of all the evil he'd done, and he complained that he'd never be able to make up for all of it... Darla had never been that foolish. She'd always known that she'd never be able, no matter how many centuries she kept walking through this land, to make up for half of the crimes she'd committed. And she wouldn't try to. She wasn't seeking for Redemption the way Angel had done, she wasn't looking for a prize on her good behaviour at the end of the road. Because she already knew there wouldn't be one.
She was just trying to make the best out of the time she'd been given. And at this moment, that was more than enough to occupy every second of her days and nights.
As soon as she arrived at the Slayer's School and was greeted by Giles' somber face, she knew there were no good news. Effectively, Giles wasted no time to fill her in.
'It's the third one we find in two weeks. And honestly, we still don't have a clue of what is going on.'
Darla examined the crude photographs in which a red-haired young woman, no older than 25, laid spread on a white table. She narrowed her eyes and repaired on the marks all over her chest. As if she'd been opened and then stitched back together again...
'Let me guess. Missing heart?'
Giles nodded somberly. Andrew, who was right behind him (he always took care to keep a little distance from Darla), cleared his throat pompously.
'Exactly. The proof shows that all the victims were cut open so their hearts were removed, and then put back together again. Afterwards, their bodies were abandoned very close to the streets these poor women disappeared in the first place. We still have not found signs of dark magic, as they used a conventional scalpel to perform the surgery, and neither did we find any clues that could lead us to one of our usual suspects. However, I believe this has to be the work of a satanist cult of some kind. The reasons are varied. It could be a ritual to gain power, a sacrifice to an evil god, or...'
'A way to awake some ancient evil?'
Andrew shut his mouth close at Darla's words, and she was glad to see that the pompous pseudo-Watcher was still able to blush.
'Or perhaps they are just mad people that have nothing better to do with their lives.' She grimaced. 'It wouldn't be the first time.'
Giles sighed. 'No, it wouldn't. Or it could just be a serial killer. However, I'm not sure we can rely on the police this time, although our contact there remains as useful as ever,' Giles made a gesture to indicate the photographs and files on his desk, 'but given the time of the year...'
Darla spoke before Andrew dared to. 'Season the Aztecs made their sacrifices?'
'That's right. It could be a coincidence...or not.'
She nodded. 'Alright. So what's the link between them?'
Giles looked through his notes. 'All of them were over 20 twenty years old but below 25; all of them healthy; all of them with the reckless habit of walking alone at night. All of them were alive at the time of the surgeon, but with a heavy dose of anesthesic. And they all semed to live in your neighbourhood.'
Darla startled. 'What?'
She grabbed Giles' files, and realised he was right. The three of them had been abducted within blocks from her apartment. In fact, one of the abductions had taken place only a couple of streets away from the dinner she used to work at.
'I knew it was a crappy hood when I moved in, but now it has reached a whole new level of evilness.' She handed the files back to Giles. 'So, what's the plan?'
Giles exchanged a meaningful look with Andrew and hesitated a brief moment. Darla frowned.
'Well, first of all, all the girls from now on will patrol in groups of three, and they'll focus their efforts in the aforementioned whereabouts. And then – well, then I thought that maybe you could contact your – erm, friend – Mr. McDonald. Both of you have many contacts in the underworld.'
Darla raised an eyebrow. So Giles had finally heard the rumours that the reason she'd been seeing Lindsey so much the last couple of months was they were dating. If it hadn't been such a serious matter, she would have made an acid comment about it, but she had more important things to worry about right now.
Like Jack the Ripper II, for instance. Or not letting Connor come to her place until the matter was solved.
Lindsey and Darla walked side by side, through which had to be the worst zone of London. Victorian's Whitechapel had looked like an idyllic town in comparison to some of the stuff she'd seen that night, and she wasn't an easy one to impress. Humankind always seemed to come out with new ways to make their pitiful lives even sorrier, and when demons and vampires were added to the mix, the result could be a nightmare.
Giles had been right. Between Lindsey and Darla, they knew every sorrowful hole of the underworld. However, they hadn't been lucky yet. Lindsey had used all of his diplomacy whereas Darla had given her best smiles and her worst glares without luck, and not even bribing or cracking a few bones did the trick.
'Sorry to have dragged you to this. I bet you have better things to do on a Friday night than hunt for a Jack the Ripper's wannabe.'
Lindsey chuckled.
'Actually, no. My social life's never been... well, you know, thrilling. And I'm glad to help you out. You know you can always count on me with this, and with other stuff as well.'
Darla nodded and gave him a sincere smile. In the two months that had followed their first encounter, Lindsey had became a great source of support for Darla, especially after Faith left England and Spike had began travelling around the globe with Buffy. She hoped that she was as supportive with him as he was with her. Lindsey seemed terribly lonely. He'd always been a loner, but before the sad look in his eyes hadn't been so noticeable. Or perhaps she'd been too cold-hearted to see it. Anyway, she was trying to make it up for the way she'd treated him in the past but mostly, she enjoyed his camaraderie. God knew they both needed a little light in their lives.
'Well, seems like our Rippers haven't gone out his night,' Lindsey said. Darla had to agree with him, when a distinct smell filled her nostrils. Oh, shit...
She broke into a run, Lindsey following suit, until she fell on her knees beside a white form that lay on the sidewalk.
She turned it around, and distinguished the anguished features of a young woman in her early twenties. Linsdey kneeled to check her pulse, but there was no need for that: from the smell, she'd been dead at least one or two hours.
Darla ripped open the woman's white shirt and wasn't surprised to see the already familiar marks on her chest.
Lindsey cursed when he saw this. 'Looks like we have another victim,' he said in a hoarse voice. When he didn't get an answer from Darla, he turned to face her, but she was uncapable to move. Suddenly, she realised there was something very wrong with the woman's features. Something very familiar. She could never forget a face...
A blur of green and white passed past them, accompanied by the distinct sound of sobbing...
...one of the youngest waitresses sitting on a box, her hands hiding her face...
'It's L-Little Jo-Joey. He said...'
'Her name's Karen.'
'How do you...?' Lindsey's eyes widened. 'Oh. From where?'
'My first job at the dinner.' Darla's tone was detached, but Lindsey wasn't that easily fooled.
'C'mon, Darla. Let me take you home. Giles can take care of this.'
Darla let herself be guided away from the body, the body of a girl she'd once seen full of life, a girl who's once had a name, and a life, and a future...
Poor Karen. She'd been a victim until her very end.
There goes another one I couldn't save. Another face to haunt my dreams.
But I promise you one thing, Karen: whoever did this to you will pay.
'Stop the truck.'
'What...?'
'Stop the damned truck now.'
Trey looked through the window and realised what had made his friend so anxious.
'Oh, no, Kevin, not again...'
On the sidewalk, there was a young woman. Her hair covered half of her face, but she seemed to be absorbed in her thoughts and wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, and instead she walked looking at the floor.
'She's perfect.'
His friend's voice had reached again that high, frantic note that sent shivers down Trey's spine. No, please, don't force me to do this again, not again...
Kevin had already taken out the tranq darts gun and was aiming through the open window.
'What are you waiting for? Stop!'
For the briefest second, Trey was tempted to press the accelerator and save that poor woman's life. But they had gone too far to stop now.
Besides, if Kevin had already killed four people and was getting ready to kill the fifth, who could say he couldn't kill six?
Kevin's aim was superb. The dart stung the woman's neck, who fell to the ground with a thump. Kevin jumped from the truck and dragged her in within seconds.
Without hesitating, without second thoughts, Trey accelerated once more and got ready for what was coming next.
Giles expectantly watched Lindsey and Andrew, whose eyes shone with a blue gleam that came from the screen.
'The transmitting device is on. It has worked,' Andrew said. 'They've taken Darla.'
'I'm ready. How's she?'
'Let me check her pulse...' A long, heavy pause and a yelp. 'She's got no pulse!'
'What the hell are you talking about? She was alive and walking five minutes ago... Let me see...' A curse was heard. 'Holy shit. She's really dead. How the hell did this happen?'
Another long pause.
'Perhaps there was something wrong with the dose you gave her. Perhaps she knocked her head on the way here. Who cares? We can't go on, Kev. It's over.'
'No!' an anguished, frantic voice cried. 'No, we can't stop now, no when we are so close... It's doesn't matter she's dead, really. We still have time.'
Wavering waters engulfed her thoughts and everything was blurry and confusing. Suddenly, there was a moment of blinding clarity, when she could almost grasp a thought... then it was gone and she returned to darkness, as she slipped in and out of consciousness.
Slowly, she returned to awareness, although her mind was still dizzy and there seemed to be a whirlwind inside her skull. She heard the voices again, two male voices arguing. With effort she managed to make out what they were saying.
'Kevin, you're out of your mind. Don't you realise it's already too late?'
A thump was heard, followed by the sound of clattering.
'Don't. Say. That. It's not too late. I can do this. And you'll help me.'
Darla dared to peek through her eyelashes. Wherever she was, it was much more illuminated than she'd expected. The ceiling was low and the bit of the walls she could see reminded her of a basement, but she couldn't be sure. She could hear a beeping sound somewhere near her head, and then muffled steps approacing her.
She shut her eyes close and the steps walked away. She focused on the smells surrounding her. Yep, it was definately a basement of some sort, but there was another smell: antiseptic. Why anyone would bother to use antiseptic in a basement was beyond Darla's reasoning right now. Instead, she tried to move her arms, then one of her legs... It was no use. Was she tied up? Funny, because she didn't feel the grip of the ropes on her wrists and anckles. Actually, she realised she wasn't feeling anything at all. All her muscles had turned coldly numb.
They've mentioned a dose... Anesthesic? Tranq darts? Something else?
But she was almost completely conscious... Then she remembered that drugs worked differently on vampires than on humans. Her captors hadn't probably been aware of that tiny detail. Boy, they were in for a surprise.
However, she couldn't move a finger yet. Hell, she didn't remember how she was supposed to move it. She was so numb, so unable to feel...
So much like a corpse.
She heard steps coming closer again, and peeked through her lashes. She distinguished a guy wearing some green robes, with an also green cloth covering half of his features... Funny. It doesn't look so much like a satanist cult, but more like...
She heard a slashing sound, and a liquid pouring from somewhere around her chest... She tried to see, and to her shock, she realised her own chest was bleeding. And she still felt nothing...
But that wouldn't last for long.
'What's wrong?'
'I don't know,' Andrew stuttered at Lindsey's piercing glare. 'The transmission just stopped.'
Lindsey ran a hand through his already messy hair. 'Can it be broken? Can something interfere with it?'
Andrew frowned in concentration. 'No, but if they were under ground, that would explain it.'
Lindsey snorted. 'Great. Just great...'
'I've checked the number on the license plate, with one of the girls' aid,' Giles announced. 'Name's Trey Dubois, and he doesn't have a criminal record. Actually, nothing of what I've read about him makes him look like a fanatic, but...'
'Let's check with the Internet,' Lindsey suggested, glad to find something he could do. He wrote the words 'Trey Dubois' in his computer, and when the results came Giles and Andrew peered over his shoulder. The latter let out a yelp.
'Uh-oh. I think we've just found out why our Ripper needs so desperately a new heart...'
Feeling slowly flooded through her muscles, but she still couldn't move a limb. First, she felt the coldness of the sharp knife against her chest, then she felt her skin being ripped and the blood pouring from the wound, pouring and sliding...
And then came the pain. Unbearable, blinding pain, as her chest was ripped open, as blood flooded her chest and red, vibrant drops stained the floor...
That girl's blood, staining the wet pavement... Darla remembered what she'd done to her, what she'd done to her before fully draining life out of her... She remembered her nails ripping her chest, she remembered snatching her heart out of her with her bare hands... She remembered clutching the bleeding heart in her hand, blood running down her arm, the rich smell of it filling her nostrils, her mouth watering in advance...
And now, it was her heart the one that was going to be snatched out from her chest.
'We have to find her, now!'
'Mr. McDonald, we are aware of that fact. Trust me, we are going to do so, but please, calm yourself down.'
Giles' calm voice didn't ease Lindsey, though. 'You don't understand, we can't waste more time...'
'Well, it's not like they're gonna kill her, is it? They won't use a stake...'
For a moment, it looked as if Lindsey would like nothing better than staking Andrew himself.
'Idiot! If you take out the heart of a vampire, he or she will die within a few hours!'
As dawning comprehension shone on Andrew's face, Giles turned to his walkie-talkie:
'Martina, get Team One ready. We are going in.'
The events that followed were fixed on Trey Dubois' mind until the day he exhaled for the last time, and he dreamed about them every night during the rest of his life.
Kevin had opened up the girl, just like he'd done with all the others. Despite being the fifth time he saw this, shivers went down Trey's spine when he saw the girl's chest ripped open like Pandora's box, and the bleeding heart inside.
At least this time the woman was already dead, and he didn't have to watch the heart soon-to-be-extracted beating. Instead, the heart was peacefully still...which didn't explain how the hell blood kept pouring from the wound, really, but Trey wasn't the doctor after all, Kevin was the one at Med School, thank God. There probably was a reasonable explanation for a corpse that kept producing red blood.
The thing that probably did not have a reasonable explanation was that the corpse's eyes were now open, when before they'd been shut close. Hold on a second...
'Trey, you've got the container ready? I'm gonna take it out now.'
Trey was unable to answer. Instead, his gaze was glued to the corpse's right hand... his gaze was glued to the fingers, which were trembling.
You're imagining things. It's just Kevin that's manhandling the body, that's it...
Except that the lips were trembling now too. It's an optic illussion, nothing else...
And that tear strolling down her white cheeks was also an optic illussion?
'Kevin...'
'What, Trey?'
Trey's mouth dried. 'Kevin, you have to stop right now...'
Before he could finish that sentence, the basement's door flew open and at least dozen people broke into the place.
Faces, she was surrounded by faces... Molly, Vi, the other Potentials she hadn't been able to save, that teenager boy that had died in her arms after a vampire had drained him three weeks ago, Karen... She tried to think of Connor, Connor, with his radiant smile and his gleaming blue eyes; Connor, with his nine-years, so young and wonderful, so innocent and carefree...
But instead, her mind was flooded with images, not of those she had slaughtered, but of those she hadn't saved. Those that could have been alive right now, had she been a little bit quicker, a littler bit smarter... All those that were dead because of her incapability to save them from the darkness that had engulfed her so long ago...
And then the pain overwhelmed her and everything else faded in the shadows.
Andrew thought he'd never forget the vision in front of him. On top of a metallic table, lay Darla, surrounded by medical supplies and two men dressed up in green. And she was... Oh, God...
Andrew felt his stomach twisting when he saw her cut open, and oh my God, oh my God, he could see her heart...
The Slayers reduced the men easily, although one of them, an scalpel still clutched in his hand, struggled furiously. The other one just fainted.
Giles was the first to reach Darla.
'The pain will drive her mad...' he mumbled, and his eyes scrutinized his surroundings, until he found a syringe and a small bottle. He filled the syringe and stung it on Darla's arm, who stopped shaking violently to fall into unconciousness once more. Lindsey, his eyes wide in horror, had not lose his head, though. He'd taken out his cell phone and above the mayhem around them Andrew was barely to catch his words:
'Marvin, remember that favour you owed me? Time for payback. Get that Pockla you know as soon as you can or there'll be hell to pay.'
The following morning, londoners, as well as the rest of the population of Great Britain, learnt from the news broadcast the scary story of the two 21st Century Rippers. As it later transpired, Trey Dubois, 22; and Kevin Teuel; 25, were the men responsible of the kidnapping and murder of four young women in London.
But what shocked people the most was that they had ripped the girls' hearts before dumping them on the streets. Not only that, but they had also kidnapped a fifth young woman, who had been luckily been rescued by the Police before the surgery took place, due to an anonymous phone call. The woman's identity wasn't mentioned in order to preserve her privacy.
The news also informed that Rachel Dubois, Dubois' older sister and Teuel's fiancée, was waiting for a heart transplant. The reason for the murders became obvious.
'Are you sure you wanna do this?'
Darla looked up at Lindsey's worried face and gave him a faint smile.
'Completely.'
She and Lindsey were sitting in two hideously uncomfortable plastic chairs, looking through a glass. She felt a deja vu as Trey Dubois was escorted into the room...but he didn't look as confident as Faith had once done in the same situation. In fact, he looked terrified, and his terror did nothing but grew when he spotted Darla
'You were dead! I knew you were dead!'
I know I was. Dubois' eyes were glinting with a maniac gleam.
'You... You were supposed to be dead!'
Darla raised an eyebrow.
'Funny. You aren't the first one to tell me that.'
On the other hand, Teuel didn't seem hysterical or terrified when Darla faced him. Instead, his hands were calmly entwined on his lap, and his face, although it was pale, looked almost normal.
'I'm not a criminal, ma'am. It doesn't matter what they say. I'm not a criminal.'
Lindsey shot him a freezing glare. 'Four dead women don't say the same.'
Teuel flinched, but his cool mask didn't waver. He turned to look Darla in the eye.
'I was just trying to save her, ma'am,' he said sadly. 'Is that a crime? I loved her, and I wanted she to live. I wanted to save her. Why couldn't I?'
Darla could feel Lindsey tensing next to her. She squeezed his shoulder and faced Teuel. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were warmer than Teuel could have expected.
'It's not a crime trying to save people, Kevin. But there are some people... There are some people we just can't save, no matter how badly we want to.'
Rachel Dubois, 24, received the heart she needed to live the same day of Darla's visit to the penitentiary. She was able to wake up from the coma and resume her everyday life.
What none of her relatives and friends dared to tell her was that the heart which was now beating inside her chest had once belonged to her boyfriend Kevin, who had committed suicide with a small razor that had mysteriously appeared in his own cell.
Author's Notes: I'm back for my trip, with a slightly darker and certainly much more morbid Episode. I hope you've liked it... or at least found it nearly as scary as I did when I wrote it. Comments? Suggestions? Then review!
Imzadi: I'm glad that you're glad about Lindsey's reappearance. Did that make sense? Well, anyway, I'm happy you've liked last Episode, and keep reading, because there'll be more Lindsey in the next Episodes, although I can't promise you'll like all of it...