The morning after the first attack broke with the news of the night's atrocity scampering through the town, before the local paper could even print it. It had always amused Bonnie just how far behind on local news that Fell's Daily Herald was, gossip spread infinitely faster.
Three days later, Bonnie found herself stepping briskly down the steps of the police station. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her light summer jacket, she sorted out her thoughts with slow deliberation. Head low and sunglasses concealing her eyes, she blended gratefully into the anonymity of the crowds.
Her initial statement, taken at the scene of the crime had been without any questions. As the investigating officer had said today, the degree of atrocity made to Mrs. Rundle was forensically outside of both Bonnie's height and weight. She would have to have grown another two feet and gain another one hundred and fifty pounds to have tossed the body into the car with equivalent force. Further, given the time of death and lack of blood on the witness, there was just no way Bonnie was anything but a bystander.
'Oh joy.' Bonnie sighed silently, pausing at a red traffic light with the rest of the pedestrians. 'I pity the cop that finds this perp.' Her dreams had once again been filled with darkness. Mingled in with visions of her own death had been a bus of slaughtered children, their fear still tangible in the dried tears on their horrified still faces. Sleep was getting harder and harder to achieve, with these visions crowding her head as soon as her eyes closed.
The murders would happen, Bonnie was sure of this, and it would happen soon. Tuesday night's dream had been brutal, the blood and darkness of death surrounding the bus, Wednesday night's dream far more detailed, the screams psychically engraved into the very air echoing through her body. Last night, though, the dream had been so intense she felt like a witness to the slaughter. Each cut, each tear, each savage bite into these poor kids was done as if she was right there. And this time, it wasn't just the psychic screams that assaulted her mind.
The only hope she had was that she could throw herself on the grenade first and distract the killer from the kids. "Masochistic much, McCullough?" She asked herself sarcastically. "Stefan and Elena have a noble streak, I'm the resident coward and it'd be awfully nice if I could remember this."
Masochistic or not her feet trod on heading straight for the perimeter of the cemetery. Honoria Fell had been a founder of Fell's Church, but her strength had been in that she was not just a woman but a witch. Her gifts had been widely used to protect and aid her fellow townspeople, and were likely the reason why the town had grown roots enough to survive.
Even in death, the woman's spirit had lingered to guard her town. It had been Honoria who had manipulated Bonnie's awakening sensitivities, and drawn her to the tombs, and it had been her ghost that had given Stefan and Elena their first chance to stop the horror that was occurring.
"I don't give a damn about eternal rewards, she better be feeling helpful." Bonnie muttered grimly, eyeing the mausoleum in the distance. The torch may have been passed on, but those who had fought before had a certain obligation to provide their wisdom to the next generation. "Which means Stefan should be here, not me."
Without even glancing down, Bonnie knew the instant she had passed Elena's empty grave and she continued, mindful of the world around her. Vampires were not constricted by sunlight. A charmed lapis lazuli, amongst other stones, represented more UV protectant than science could develop. "Not enough good eats in a graveyard, though." Bonnie muttered, thankful she had enough knowledge of vampire to rationalize why they wouldn't hunt from a cemetery.
A quick glance was tossed to the Smallwood Crypt, the stone orb at its height almost winking at her with the morning sun glinting off it. Tyler Smallwood had never been found, much less heard from. It suddenly occurred to her that, as a werewolf, he was capable of eviscerating a body. Shuddering, she walked towards an even more ancient resting-place that represented protection and not death.
Pushing past the heavy doors, her low-heeled shoes clicked with authority on the flooring inside the tombs. Two giant sepulchers with the effigies of both Honoria and her husband perched on top in prayer were positively medieval in representation. The town, all those years ago, had erected the graves to honour the town's founders, and this was the format chosen.
Stopping in front of Honoria's tomb, Bonnie took in the dust, and the harsh lines of the effigy. The woman carved in front of her had a severe look to her, her features frozen in stern reflection of the life ever-after. It didn't take much to push the cover aside, or to jump down into the tomb beneath.
"Hello, Honoria." Bonnie said to the apparently empty room. "I need your help, again." Silence greeted her words. Turning, slightly, Bonnie looked around the hollow, her eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness. The wreckage that opened into the catacombs beneath the graveyard also served as a marker for Katherine's final assault on Fell's Church. It was here that she had abducted Elena, Stefan and Damon, and it was that abduction that began her downfall.
Just as it was this room, this tomb, that had set the course of Bonnie's own life. Her psychic abilities that had awoken the summer before were gentle, weak, and trivial. Honoria had offered a choice, to keep those gifts or loose them and in Bonnie's choice to retain them they had blossomed tremendously.
Where Honoria had simply been a powerfully gifted psychic, Bonnie had taken the path of witchcraft, using the skills and mediations of that discipline to help her control her powers. Besides, in a world where vampires associated with her on a daily basis, having occult skills was a life-saving skill. Her life.
By no means was she a strong or well-educated witch, she left that to the professionals. She was, however, sufficiently skilled to summon one recalcitrant spirit. "You're going to have to speak to me again, Honoria. Whether or not you've earned your rest, Fell's Church requires your aid."
Still, there was silence. Bonnie's eyes narrowed, long lashes covering dark eyes. "Twenty-three innocent children will die without your assistance." She murmured. "I don't know what it is out there, or where it is, or if I can stop it. I just know I'm alone without a clue."
Power stirred for the first time, the thrum of an ancient power moving in the air around her. With the power, came a presence. "Stefan and Elena left. They're on vacation. Your chosen guardians are gone, and the flunky is left behind. So you're damn well going to come out of retirement voluntarily and help me before I drag you out!"
The power was coalescing, forming a single solid point a few meters ahead, and that point was expanding and beginning to take shape. "Elena is not the guardian. Nor is Stefan." Honoria's voice whispered out, growing in strength with each word.
Bonnie smiled, a self-satisfied expression of accomplishment. "I know." She smirked, "You meant me."
Honoria wasn't amused. Duping spirits took skill, but Bonnie had mastered the art of being na‹ve. "So, what need have you of I?" The spirit's warm motherly voice turned cold, authoritative and haughty. The clothing and face took on a severity that bore witness to the accuracy of her tomb's image.
"I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know where to start, or what to do. I just know I'm going to die." Bonnie sighed, rubbing at the gooseflesh rising on her arms. "I can feel this, and I'm going to die without saving anyone."
"It wants you." Honoria spoke again, her voice distant, bemused. "It is drawn to your power, and to your connection in the binding of Klaus."
Bonnie rolled her eyes, Klaus again. No matter what else could be said about Fell's Church, all troubles boiled down to some relationship with Klaus. "Let me guess, more dysfunctional vampiric family all attracted to the floating sign over my head that says 'I was there when Klaus bit it'."
The spirit was confused, her presence wafting between intense and fading. "No. Not kin, but similar. To stop it, you must first find the rest of yourself."
Bonnie blinked, the cryptic message in Honoria's words having far too many meanings for her comfort. "Lovely." The girl murmured. "I don't suppose you have any other pearls of wisdom to offer? Like maybe how to find it, general weaknesses, perhaps a phone number for Elena. stuff like that."
The fading was more pronounced now, and silence seemed to echo off the walls. "Honoria?" Bonnie called. "I need help, please! I don't really want to die, in fact, I can honestly say I'm morally against it."
"Trust yourself." The spirit whispered.
Bonnie shook her head, frustration rising anew. "Oh I do. I trust I'll make a terrific corpse, have a lovely funeral, and no one will give a damn." Shoulder's slumping, she balled her hands into fists, stuffing them back into her coat pocket.
The spirit was gone, completely. Sighing, Bonnie felt a pain blossom deep in her skull, the onset of a headache born from stress and a lack of sleep. There would be no help from the dead, and the living were traipsing across Europe, too busy to even send a postcard.
She craved Meredith's cool intellect, or Stefan's noble determination. All she had was herself, and right now that didn't seem to be enough. "Okay, okay, enough of that. There lies the path to Prozac."
History dictated that whatever was out there was also bound by the same constraints that had hindered Klaus and Katherine. Moving water for one, and threshold wardings. "But, logic says that history doesn't always repeat."
What she did know was that a busload of kids were in danger, so how could she protect them? Walking in a slow circle, her feet kicking up dust, Bonnie tried to order her thoughts and analyze the situation rationally. "Kids on a bus are either going home, or going on a trip." She murmured, rubbing at her temples. "Fell's Church doesn't have bus service to school, so that leaves a trip."
In her head, things began clicking. "And school's have to register trips, get parental permission, and request a bus!" She chuckled. "I wonder how hard it is to get info out of a school?"
The thought gave her purpose, and sent her from the cemetery and back into town. Fell's Church had one highschool and one elementary school. The town wasn't large enough to require more than that, really. The children in her visions were young, painfully young. The images of their terrified faces were frozen into Bonnie's mind, granting her confidence in her decision to check the elementary school first.
Honoria Elementary had been built over sixty years ago, but the constant modifications and upgrades to the school kept it in prime shape. Expansion and development allowed for enlarged classrooms, a comprehensive track, and wonderful athletic facilities. It was like being in a miniature version of the highschool.
Walking through the main doorways, Bonnie smiled in memory of her days here. The teasing and cruelty of other children at her Irish accent and red hair had faded from the day that Elena declared her a friend. Four years later, the accent had vanished, leaving being the court princess the world knew as Bonnie McCullough.
Her first kiss had been in grade four, from Gregory Addams. 'I wonder what ever happened to him?' Bonnie smiled, softly. The day he had moved from Fell's Church, Bonnie had sobbed convinced her one true love had left her. Life did indeed move on.
The hallways were painted a rather bland yellow-cream, but were decorated vividly by the artwork from the primary division. The stick figures of people, dogs and the blobbish shape of trees and houses were in brilliant colour on manilla artpaper. Her eyes flickered over them all, as she walked in distraction down the halls of the school.
Years before, going to a school office filled her with trepidation. It was a comfort that adulthood shielded her now from that hesitation, granting her confidence with each step. Pushing the door open, Bonnie approached the receptionist desk with a story ready. The picture she presented was attractive, her pale ivory skin glowing incandescently against her rich red hair's background.
'Some things never change', Bonnie thought fondly, as Mrs. Wilson looked up, blinked twice and then smiled in recognition. The woman had been middle-aged when Bonnie had been a child, but now, she was knocking on the doors to retirement. Her formerly brown hair was liberally streaked in gray and lines marked her eyes from the merry crinkling of thousands of smiles.
"Bonnie McCullough! As I live and breathe!" Doris Wilson's smile was genuinely warm. "Look at you! My heavens, you've grown into such a beautiful young woman!"
Bonnie laughed. "Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. I'll tell my parents you approve of the good genes!" Mrs. Wilson, years ago, had soothed a crying redhead from teasing, explaining that her parents gave her red hair because only the best genes went to a child.
That memory had followed Bonnie through each tease or torment she'd ever received. If redheaded children were to have vicious tempers, Bonnie's was controlled by the kindness of people who soothed her as a child.
Mrs. Wilson clearly remembered that conversation, her blue eyes brightening cheerfully. "You do that, dear." She fondly reached over to pat Bonnie's arm. "Now tell this old woman what I can do for you?"
'Perfect!' Bonnie barely kept a grin from splitting her face. "Well, I'm done school for the summer, as you know, and I find I have some time on my hands. I know some school trips will be cropping up in the near future, and I was wondering if I could volunteer to be there, for parents who can't!"
It sounded positively civic minded, and in Fell's Church, a good citizen was privy to volumes of information. "That's so sweet, Bonnie!" Mrs. Wilson took the bait like a good school secretary. "And, I wish I had known this before, Mrs. Graths' grade ones are at the zoo in Donland today!"
Bonnie's heart dropped to her stomach. "Did they go this morning? How fun!" She managed, desperately hoping that it wasn't today, that the kids would be back this morning, and not late this afternoon.
"It's a day trip." Mrs. Wilson continued, blissfully unaware of the shadow passing over Bonnie's face. "Parents will be picking their children up this evening from the school."
"I'm sure the kids are having a terrific time, knowing they're out of school for the whole day." Bonnie smiled, the expression feeling odd on a face that felt frozen. These children would die, today and she felt like she was too late to do a damnable thing about it. Twenty-three tiny lives snuffed by a monster for the sheer pleasure of the kill.
"Of course they will!" Mrs. Wilson fussed about her desk for some paper. "But, now, you just give me your phone number and if another trip comes up, I'll give you a call! There are so many parents who can't take time from work to join the children, nowadays." She clucked her tongue disapprovingly.
Hastily, Bonnie gave out her phone number, hoping her voice didn't stammer too much. Her mind raced, searching for options. Any possibility was worthwhile, but without a car she couldn't get to the zoo and follow the kids.
Where the slaughter would happen was beyond her, she just knew it WOULD happen. Casting Mrs. Wilson a fond farewell, Bonnie practically ran from the school. "My kingdom for a car!" She muttered, rooting through her purse for her apartment keys. "It's almost noon now, let's assume the kids have until they leave the zoo. How can I get there first?"
Her building was across the street, pausing for a passing car, Bonnie looked up and froze. A crowd was gathering about the front of the complex, a crowd complete with two police officers. "Oh, no!" Bonnie whispered. "Please, no."
The light changed, allowing Bonnie to cross the street. There was no rush now, no hurry to see what people were scrambling over one another to gawk at before turning away to throw up. The police officers looked strained, one speaking into a cellphone with clear agitation.
Psychically, she cleared a pathway for herself, mentally nudging people to want to move out of her way. Like the parting of the Red Sea, they moved aside first to reveal a red- splattered pavement, and then the mangled remains lying on the lawn. "Oh, Gods!" Bonnie nearly wept, her stomach clenching. The children were dead, all dead. The evidence of that lay before her.
The little boy was scarcely identifiable as human. His eyes, mercifully, were closed, but blood streaked all over him. His eviscerated corpse had been so shredded, it was like he'd been caught under farm machinery. Only the face remained untouched, his features frozen in agony and terror. Dried tracks of tears marked down the side of his face, and his hands were clenched tightly.
Her breath was coming in short gasps, painful nauseous intakes of air for a body too shocked to know how to process the oxygen. Turning away, she chose to be a coward and ran for the safety of her home, of her apartment. The keys shook in her hands, the tremors of her body sending them clanging against one another. Bracing her body against the door, she scrambled to push it open.
There was no safety; nothing was sacred. If children could be butchered in the broad daylight of morning, and an old woman slaughtered as the sun set, what was to stop this thing from killing all of Fell's Church?
The shot glass had been used only twice. The first time to pour water into a dying flower, and the second to measure out vanilla extract for a large batch of cookies. This time, Bonnie filled with the first alcohol her fumbling hands had found.
Slugging the shot down, the burning whisky set into her stomach with a vengeance. Three shots later, an artificial calm seeped into her limbs. 'There was only one body, there. Maybe the other's survived?' Her optimism knew no bounds.
Sinking slowly into the couch, she stared at the black television set, unwilling to turn it on and have her hopes dashed. "Why here? Why did it bring the body back here?" If it was going to habitually leave it's calling card at the site of it's first kill, Bonnie already wanted to move.
'It wants you.. It's drawn to your power..' Honoria's unearthly voice echoed through Bonnie's head. 'It wants you.'
"It wants me." Bonnie whispered sickly, making the connection. It didn't want her as a victim, exactly. It wanted her to recognize it for a true opponent, and it did so by leaving symbols of its' prowess and power. Symbols built in blood and death.
Hysteria was a good friend, she'd known it before and welcomed its' blanket over her senses now. The shivers turned into shudders, before falling into panicked sobs. Instinctively, her body curled into the fetal position, and she wept her fears, loneliness and helplessness.
It was too much, far too much to face alone. Her own death she could cope with. Acknowledging her own mortality was easy, but to know that so many children had died to leave her a message, as nothing more important than a calling card was a burden Bonnie couldn't begin to handle.
For the first time, since Elena and Meredith had left for Europe, Bonnie truly felt alone. Elena's glory as Fell's Church resident Queen could not scare away these demons. There was no unearthly host to summon that would vanquish it, and no vampiric brothers to take its' focus from her.
She was alone, and death was her only immediate destiny. "My publisher is going to be so pissed." Bonnie thought around a hysterical hiccup. "I'm not done editing chapter five!"