Fog had rolled in up the river, coating the grounds of the WhitePearl estate in a thick white blanket. The old abandoned churchyard at far end of the grounds stood like a silent and dark silhouette on the horizon, the grave stones standing out in the gloom.

The only source of sound for miles around was the bayou across the river to the north.

The old rotten bridge that marked the border between the grounds of the estate and the swamp land creaking so loudly that its moan echoed up into the early morning sky.

The estate of the WhitePearl had been built when they first immigrated here over a hundred years ago. It had once been a wheat field plantation and a small village, but slowly the encroaching swamp land had claimed the fields and most of the buildings and left the manor house itself cornered by thick expanses of creepers and canopy trees.

While many of the WhitePearls had moved to the cities, their home still stood and was maintained by order of the current head of the families accounts, a retreat for members of their family who needed it when times got tough for them.

The groundskeeper, Old man Andrew as he was known, made his way from the gatehouse that stood at the end of the road up the drive towards the manor itself; a single candle lantern lighting in way. The fog was coming in so thick he couldn't see an inch in front of his nose.

The only way the old man could see where he was going was by the distant lights in the manor windows and by the illumination of his own candle behind the glass. Miss WhitePearl was due on the estate very soon and, the staff had been informed, they were to expect company.

The old man smiled. It would be good to see the young gal again.

Hearing a loud crunching sound, the grounds keeper turned around and held his lantern up. It had sounded like a footstep on the gravel path but there wasn't anyone else there.

Determining that he had simply imagined it, the grounds keeper carried on toward the manor house. Surrounding the buildings themselves was a maze made from cut hedges, the tops well over six foot in the air. If one did not know their way one could easily get lost inside them. The spires of the botanical greenhouse could barely be seen above green foliage.

The manor itself was now visible completely; a massive building with two side wings and a large oak front entrance. Stone Gargoyles sat across the rooftops, leering down towards any who tried to approach. They were massive beasts with terrible fangs and claws. The grounds keeper ignored them and carried on.

Again a sudden sound caught his attention. A rustled as something brushed past his left. Andrew glanced around to see several of the bushes that made the maze up moving, caught in the sway of moving air left behind by whatever had passed by.

"Hello…" The old man called out, lifting his lantern higher to peer through the fog that wrapped itself around anything solid. "Is anybody there?" Silence was the only reply.

Taking in a deep breath, the keeper advanced into the maze. "This is private property. Unless you leave now I'm calling the police." From somewhere deep in the fog there was a distant cackle and the keeper backed up.

Something darted swiftly through the air above him, leaping along the top of the maze with speed that turned it into a blur.

"I'm warning you." Andrew began stammering taking a few unsteady steps backwards. The cackling continued, growing louder and louder as if its source was coming closer. Panicking, the keeper dropped his lantern and ran to the front of the house and thumped loudly on the door.

There was a sudden ruffling directly behind him and he froze, sweat running down his forehead. Slowly he turned around and then he screamed and then his cry was suddenly silenced the moment it left his mouth.

A hand wrapped in white bandages took hold of his throat, choking the noise out from him.

"Where…" A strained voice began. The keeper's eyes looked from the hand up the arm it was attached to. "Is…" A soaked green leather coat clung to the child like body. Every inch of it was wrapped in bandages, dirty raven black hair trailing out from the top of the head. A single blood red eye was staring down at him, filled with burning emotions of anger and despair. "Momma!"

The flash of a short dagger blade was the last thing Andrew ever saw.

-

Gunrock's kids quickly proved to take after their father in more ways than one. The six of them were everywhere onboard the ship, often getting into fights with each others and the crew members. They were loud children who often tried to liberate some alcohol from the Royal haven's bar when they thought no one was looking.

"They'all really something ain't they?" Gunrock would say proudly, placing his hands on his hips if anyone asked about their boisterous behaviour. Apollus decided quite early on that since they had grown up without a female influence in their lives they were bound to be a little rough around the edges.

"I haven't seen Falcon all day." Wang-Tang began almost to himself as he stood with Ryoma on the deck of the massive Turbine ship as it moved through the clouds heading northward. The expansive floodplains and fields of southern America flew out far below them, the mid morning sun casting illuminating rays of light across their length.

"The Englishman is in hiding." The samurai replied; one eye closed and the other staring out at the horizon; his head blown back by the wind at such an altitude and that generate by the rotating fans beneath the ship. "Miss Julia announced that we would be making a short stop at her family's estate. For some reason Falcon did not seem to like that." Wang-Tang chuckled lightly and leaned on the rail.

"Edward Falcon, come on out darlin'." Julia called out wandering past them, her hands cupped to her mouth. Apollus was wandering behind her with his umbrella tucked under on arm and a hand held to his top hat to prevent it from flying off his head.

Wang-Tang and Ryoma watched them go and once they had wandered around a corner and where out of earshot, the samurai turned to face a white funnel that stood out from the deck.

"They've gone Englishman you can come out now." Wang-Tang followed his gaze and had to hide a wide grin when he saw the face of Edward Falcon hiding behind the grate, his sea blue eyes staring out through the gaps in the metal.

"How did you know I was here?" He asked; the sound of voice echoed by the funnel. Ryoma raised an eyebrow. "Right, as if I need to ask." He reached up and pushed the grate off, hoisting himself out of his hiding place. "I can't take this much longer. If I can't get away from that mad woman I think I'm going to go nuts myself."

"Falcon, I'm confused." Wang-Tang admitted once the Englishman had his feet back on the deck. "Your attempts at romance with the ladies are all known to us, but thus far they've not be successful."

"Pardon?" Falcon asked in reply adopted an insulted expression.

"But here is one who is throwing herself at your very feet and yet you're running away." Wang-Tang continued. "Care to explain?" Falcon stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, before sighing and leaning back against the rail.

"Am I right in assuming this has more to it than Miss Julia's obsessive attitude?" Ryoma asked, folding his arms inside his robes. Falcon hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"I'm the son of a noble." He stated slowly. "The youngest son of the house of Falcon; one of the most influential and respected families in the British Isles.

You can't imagine what kind of restrictions that legacy places on someone." Wang-Tang and Ryoma remained silent. "The one at the top of the list is I'm expected to marry a girl from another noble family. A family like the WhitePearl's for example." He managed a small smile. "My family, mother especially, is almost demanding I marry Julia." He strained his face. "I don't want to marry, full stop."

"I see your problem." Ryoma replied, closing both eyes to the stinging wind at his face. "Family expectations can be hard to endure, especially if you've no interest in them."

"Yeah I guess, but I wouldn't know." Wang-Tang added, staring off towards the horizon. Both the samurai and the Englishman cast their friend a brief glance. They had both momentarily forgotten that Wang-Tang had never known any of his own family. He had been raised by monks in the temple where he had learned the Golden Dragon martial arts.

The Royal Haven began to dip below the clouds and once it did it seemed the beauty of the world seemed to vanish. Ayame watched from the bow of the ship as the ground began to approach them. Everything below them was an expansive swamp land and flood plain that stretched off for miles towards the coast far behind them.

Unlit by the sun it was a gloomy grey place that sent shivers down her spine just by looking at it. Unable to explain why, she felt more and more apprehensive the closer to this place they got. As if something was waiting for her here, something malevolent. It was not a pleasant feeling as she backed away from the rail and held her arms around herself tightly suddenly feeling the cold in the air.

"Not the most inviting place in the little ol' world." Julia commented, looking briefly down at the ground as she paced the deck looking for her elusive suitor. "But its home."

There wasn't any space for the Turbine ship to sit itself down on the grounds of the small estate on the edge of the swamp so the ship carried on over the treetops, following the dirt road to the west until they neared the town that stood on more stable ground. A clearly marking landing pad was there waiting for them and slowly the ship began its descent.

The land struts were deployed and the ship readied for landing.

"Oh there y'ar darling." Miss Whitepearl called over, sighting Falcon when the Englishman was forged to reveal himself as they began to make preparations to disembark.

"Yeah, just had to check my luggage." Falcon replied not meeting her eyes. There was a soft but loud thud as the ships made contact with the landing pad, the compressed air propelled from the vessel's underside adding to the thick fog in the air as the fans slowed to a stop.

"You needn't have bothered." Julia replied as the gangplank was thrown out by the crew. "The ships just here to refuel and we'll only be spending a night at my country estate. You can leave your luggage here." Before any of them could make their way down the gangplank they found their path was being blocked by several policemen making their way up towards them.

"Miss Whitepearl?" The leading officer asked addressing the young blond woman with a sceptical eye.

"Yeah?" Julia began looking slightly confused. The office produced his badge and held it aloft for them to see.

"Sergeant Meadows, coroner's office." He stated. He was a man clearly overweight with pale skin and a thick jet black moustache under his nose. The officers following after him were both young men who looked like trainees. "Do you know a Mr. Andrew Patterson?" Julia pushed her eyebrows up in a confused expression.

"Yes, he's the groundskeeper at my family estate." She replied. "I've known him since I was ten." The officer signed and stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

-

The body was being taken away for examination by the local law enforcement by the time they arrived at the estate. The police gave Julia a moment to identify the body before they carried it away.

"It must have been very quick." The Sergeant told her as she stood there, staring at the pool of dried blood outside her manor's front door. The outline of the position the body had been discovered in had been etched in chalk on the path stones. Everything had been left lying where it had been found, even the cracked glass lantern where it had fallen from the dying hands.

"From the wounds we can tell that death must have been near instantaneous." His statements did not seem to help. She was just standing there staring down at the floor with clenched fists. Without warning she broke for the door and rushed inside, several of her cast away tears hitting Falcon on the cheek.

He had never seen Julia like this before. Then again, he had only seen her when she was in her spastic mode and never her other range of emotions.

"How did the old man die?" Ryoma asked giving the policeman a stare.

"Cut throat." Was the simple reply as the man put his hands in his pockets. "A single fluid stroke through the flesh with a dagger it had to be. Must have happened this morning, the body was still warm when we got here. We've searched the grounds by haven't found the murder weapon."

"We've interviewed the staff sir." One of the officers told his superior. "A few we've brought back to town for further questioning, but it seems like most of them had alibis for the time of death."

"Even if they hadn't, none of them could have killed the old guy so quickly. As if the air itself had tore his throat in half." The sergeant replied with a sigh.

"Sir!" Someone called out and the sergeant looked up to see another office running towards him. "We found this by the greenhouse." In his hand was a long piece of white clothe. Part of it was smeared in blood, as if it had been used to wipe a blade clean.

Ayame blinked once at the sight of it; a faint buzz of familiarity that refused to surface into coherent memory at the back of her head. She felt as once repulsed by the mere sight of the clothe.

"I'm not sure we should hang around here with a killah' on the loose." Gunrock ventured pulling bandana back over his head properly. "I have ma kids to think off." All six of them were huddled around their father looked furlong and nervous at the gloomy scene around them. Several of the youngest had clamped themselves onto his leg and refused to let go.

"Yes, we should probably head back into town and rent a room in a hotel." Apollus replied; the old man's gaze kept locked on the swamp in the background. There were dozens of Acers of marchland beyond that border, enough for a crazed killer to spent eternity hiding within.

"I'm…" Falcon began staring up towards the house. "I'm going to talk to Julia." Without another word he ventured off through the front door, moving to let another few police officers out before moving in himself.

"Why would anyone choose to built a manor house here of all places?" Wang-Tang asked gazing out across the encroaching mass of swamp and bayou land that near encircled the WhitePearl estate.

"According to Master Pride, It wasn't always like this." Apollus replied, tugging his box tie back around her neck. "Back in the 1800's when the WhitePearl's first came to America most of what you see here was fertile planting land. Unfortunately soon after the estate was built, a freak storm passed through the area and the region was almost completely flooded.

The swamp quickly encroached, swallowing the land to the point where the WhitePearl's had to abandon the crop business." The Chinese boy didn't reply to that, instead his gaze was drawn to the ruins of an old church barley visible at the far end of the visible grounds. Vines and creepers were slowly engulfing the stone, wrapping itself the surface of the old stones like writhing snakes. "As you can they were in the process of building a town here when it happened.

Afterwards the buildings were all moved to the west on more stable ground."

Ayame had been unusually quite, staring off with a sunken expression on her face. This Wang-Tang noticed. It was so much of a chance from her usually attitude that it concerned him a little. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she shuddered at the contact.

"Something wrong?" He asked. She relaxed her shoulders and looked back with a grateful smile on her lips.

"Nothing." She replied, but her gaze wandered up towards the gargoyles lining the house turrets and she inwardly shook. "This place is creeping me out a bit, that's all."

"Not exactly friendly looking is it?" He agreed looking up at the bat-like, demonic figures above.

"Excuse me do you know were I can find Mr…" A police officer began running up to them. He stopped to glance at the piece of paper in his hand. "Edward Falcon?"

"I am butler to Mr. Falcon." Apollus replied. "Is that a letter for the young master?"

"A telegram." The officer replied handing him the paper. Apollus flipped it open.

"From the British Museum?" He said out load looking at the printed letters at the top. "This must be from that delightful Doctor Erode." Ryoma glanced over the old butler's shoulder as he began to read aloud.

"Dear Edward.

I tried to reach you at your house, but your mother angrily informed me that you had left for a trip.

Using some resources I had at my disposal I anticipated where you would be and sent this telegram.

I have been researching the folklore of Ancient Persia and Babylon as you requested and turned up several things of interest that I believe may prove useful.

Also, a college researching history in Egypt had informed me of some hieroglyphics he wishes me to see.

I will let you know how that goes.

Please visit or telephone me upon your return to England.

Your friend; Doctor Henry Erode."

The grey sky above crackled loudly with distant thunder all of a sudden it started raining. Heavy pellets of water came crashing down hard onto the ground and within moments clothes began to get soaked. Apollus had to shove the paper into his blazer to prevent it from being destroyed by the assault.

"We had best go inside until we can make other arrangements." Apollus ventured, striding towards the house with water collecting in the rim of his hat.

The interior of the WhitePearl manor was almost identical to that of the Falcon's. It had the same room span and the stairs leading up into the landing were in exactly the same place. Police were still here, searching through the house for clues or even the elusive murder weapon. So far, no sign of the killer had been reported. Not so much as a foot print had been left at the murder scene other than those of the victim himself.

"Anything missing?" Meadows was asking a maid of the household. "Jewellery, money or anything like that?"

"I haven't looked." The maid was clearly distraught by the events here and had had to sit down on a stool as her legs were unsteady. "None of the servants stuff at any rate. I haven't seen the master office yet. The safe's behind the picture. Only Lord WhitePearl himself knows the combination."

"For all the good it did." Another officer added descending down the stairs. "We just found it open, the door torn of its hinges."

"All gone?"

"Strange sir, all the dollars are still inside. The only things missing, at least according to the butler are jewels, necklaces and gold rings."

"A robbery that went wrong then." Meadows sighed, writing it all down in a small note book. "Old man must have blundered onto the guy when he tried to make his escape."

"Whoever it was, he must have been very strong sir. Those hinges were torn to pieces by brute force." The officer added adjusting his hat. "I can tell after looking at them that he didn't use anything to break it open. The safe door was torn off with his bare-hands." Meadows gave an impressed whistle.

"But why jewels sir?" The first officer asked. "That's going to be hot stuff on the market, he won't be able to sell. He'd have done much better just taking the money."

Julia could hear it all through the thin floorboards. The remains of her white and red dress lay on the floor around the bed; discarded like a snake would its old skin.

Old man Andrew had been her friend, someone she cherished as close to a family member. Unable to contain them she left the tears roll freely down her cheeks. Her old room in the house, the familiar surroundings, offered little in the way of comfort.

But she had not been searching for any. The sight of the body, the clash wound across the neck… even the memory of it was too much to bear. Comfort was the last patronizing thing she needed right now.

Who would do such a horrible thing? Such an evil, violent act? And for what? A few jewels? For that they'd take the life of an old man who hadn't done them any harm?

In that moment her grief transformed itself and turned to anger. Something deep within her stirred from a long slumber and began to writhe as the restraints placed upon it were weakened.

There was a knock at the door and she sat bolt upright on her old bed. She removed the flowery hat from her head and just sat there, not bothering to answer it. Slowly it pushed itself open and Falcon stuck his head through the opening. The expression on his face told the story instant.

He wanted to say something reassuring, something comforting; but lacked both the experience and the gall to do it. Besides this Julia was by now far beyond mere words; even those from Edward Falcon.

Without waiting for him to say anything, she stood up and marched past him. In fact she almost slammed him against the door frame as she barraged past, her angry eyes rimmed with the red irritation of tears.

"Julia wait!" He called out eventually but she ignored him and carried off down the landing and rounded a corner. While not fluent in the ways of the woman Edward Falcon knew exactly what this meant.

Anyone who so much as spoke to her, at least in the next few hours, was going to have their head gnawed off.

"Hello Operator…" Apollus began; his ear to the phone. Nothing, not even a dialling tone. The old butler groaned and put the receiver down. "The storm must have knocked out the phone lines."

"No chance of a reserve hotel bookin' then?" Gunrock asked putting his hands on his hips. Apollus shook his head.

"Not today. By the time we drive back to the town, it'll be the middle of the night. We might as well spend the night here."

"With a killer on the loose?" Wang-Tang asked. "For all we know the guy could still be here."

"Unfortunately, even me and my own men are going to be stuck here." Meadows ventured, glancing out through the window. The storm was raging outside now.

The tops of the trees along the outline of the swamp were beginning to churn and toss back and forth in the strong winds. "At least until the storm gives out. The roads the only way back into town and its gotten so waterlogged that driving on it's near impossible.

Besides my guess is the one responsible is long gone by now." Despite his reassuring tone, Ayame was not convinced.

That horrible feeling she had experienced earlier came back in full force and beyond all doubt now she was certainly they, her especially, where being watched.

The day wore on and the storm showed no sign of letting up. In fact, it appeared to get worse. The rain pelting down had wiped away the chalk markings outside the house and anything else the police had left outside. By mid afternoon the wind began to loosen the titles on the roof and all the winds and doors had to be fastened shut to prevent them being blown in.

"I imagine tropical storms are quite common around this area." Apollus ventured, trying to alleviate some of the tensions just about everyone could sense ebbing inside the house.

"We get them now and then." Meadows agreed. "But not usually in this season." Apollus sighed and slumped his shoulders.

"Miss Julia must have really loved that old man." She commented. "She's been upstairs since we got here." Meadows simply nodded once and shrugged.

"Best to let her cry for a while at any rate. I can question her later once she's settled down. Now that I'm stuck here I'm not in any rush." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a pipe.

The energy lines in this house had been disturbed, Ryoma could sense it. Unfortunately however he could tell that whatever had caused the disturbance was still spreading its influence. It was still here. If not in the house itself then very close.

"Falcon, be on guard." He announced, seeing the Englishman sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his head balanced on a fist. "I do not believe we are alone in this house."

"Pardon?" Falcon asked looking up with a raised eyebrow. "Of course we're not alone. We brought half a dozen other people here with us."

"Baka." Ryoma snarled pushing his lips together. "I mean other than US." Falcon blinked once and then stood up sharply.

"You mean you think the killer is still here?" The samurai just nodded and kept shooting glances back over his shoulder.

"The disturbance in the energy lines is unmistakable." He replied. "Don't tell the police anything. They wouldn't take our word for it." Falcon rolled his eyes at that. No one besides from those familiar with the highly tuned senses of the samurai would not believe they could detect disturbance like this.

"Can you tell where he is?"

"No, only that he is close." The samurai closed his eyes and shuddered slightly. "But another disturbance seems to mask his own. There are two forces at work in this house and they concern me." Falcon scratched the back of his head.

"You're not making a lot of sense Ryoma."

"I know." He admitted. "Just watch yourself. Let all others with a Power Stone know, but say nothing to anyone else.

"You the boss." Falcon replied with a grim smile.

Distinguishing between night and day was only possible by the presence of darkness. All through the evening the storm ragged on, a maelstrom of wind and rain. With nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, the servants of the household, still shaken by the murder, lapsed back into their roles and began serving dinner.

The loud grandfather clock in the hall chimed in at seven' o'clock.

Each sound of the gong was like a hammer strike, resonating throughout the house; luring from its slumber the unwelcome guest, pulling it back to consciousness. A single blood red eye pushed the bandages out of the way.

"Momma…" The voice almost hissed as it began moving, sliding through the shadows, its body barely a few feet away from those who moved in the light but its presence went unnoticed as if it were over a thousand miles away. "Momma mine…"

They were here. Just as the voices churning through his head had told him. He should have had more faith in the words of his lifelong companions.

Creeping along the rafters, wrapped in darkness; he watched them pass below completely oblivious to his very being.

The blond one stopped just below; scratched the back of his head with a hand in a brown leather glove before moving on.

While he was on the list of targets, he wasn't the one that had to be dealt with right away.

"Momma." The word seeped out like the whistle of a far off breeze. Falcon froze at the sound of it and then glanced up. The rafters above where bare and empty. Had he been imagining that? It was rather tense around here and he was distracted by Julia's absence from the group, perhaps he was just getting a little jumpy?

"Momma?" He asked himself. He had heard that same word uttered that way before…

Ayame stuck close to Wang-Tang. It was the only way she could feel even marginally safe in this house.

"I'm beginning to think something's worrying you." The boy muttered, pulling his arm free from Ayame's grip.

"I don't like this place." She admitted finally. "I feel as if something's watching me." Wang-Tang managed a smile, but his eyes darted around the room anyway.

"I'm sure its nothing." He replied laying an understanding hand on her shoulder. Truth-be-told this place unnerved him as well, even without the crime scene. Still, he wasn't going to let Ayame know that as the last thing she needed as more reason to worry.

"Ok chaps, we've got a bit of a problem." Falcon told them, hurrying up and putting a hand to one side of his face so his voice didn't echo to anyone else within earshot. "The samurai things the killers still somewhere in the house, but don't tell anyone…" Before he could finish, Wang-Tang kicked him in the shin as a less than subtle way of telling him to be quite. The anxious look on Ayame's face increased.

"Still…still here?" She began with the fear more than evident in her voice. Wang-Tang shot the hobbling Englishman a 'now-look-what-you've-done' look. "Where?"

"Ryoma doesn't know, only that he's close." Falcon replied, rubbing his leg while hoping. "Don't worry. Our lot has five Power Stones between us. What kind of maniac is going to go up against that?"

"The psychotic murdering kind." The Englishman would have laughed in response had the situation not been quite so grave.

"Well…right. Just, be alert. Don't say anything to the police. They'll just ask questions we either can't answer or they won't believe." Even before he had finished speaking he was wandering off towards the door. "I have to find Julia. I can't just let her wander around alone right now."

He stopped in the doorway. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Falcon may not have had the same training that Ryoma had been privileged to, but he didn't need that to recognise a presence in the room.

There was a sudden loud thud as Wang-Tang stuck the floor. Falcon spun around only to come face to face with the sole of an old brown boot. Instinct overriding fear, Ayame tore several shuriken out from her robes and tossed them through the air at the green and white blur that hurtled through the room.

Each of the sharp throwing objects was intercepted by the short blade of a dagger and sent flying harmlessly into the floor. Before the girl could do anything else, a white bandaged hand wrapped itself around her thrown and the momentum threw her down against the wall.

"You took Mamma!" It had been a few months but she recognised the face of Jack the Slayer staring at her with the one undamaged eye, the iris blood red. Ayame tried to lash out with her foot but one of Jack's legs intercepted and pinned hers back against the wall.

Slowly and deliberately, the boy reached through the top of her robes. For a moment Ayame was certain he was going to do something horrible, but watched as his hand lifted clear; in its grasp as her Power Stone. "Now Momma mine again!" His knee connected sharply with her stomach and she doubled over, gagging out. A single blow to the back of her head as she went down knocked her unconscious.

"Ayame!" Wang-Tang cried out as he back flipping back up and raced forward towards Jack. The slayer just cackled and snapped the fingers on his free hand, a scimitar like dagger flying out his sleeve and into his hand.

His body arching in an impossible way, he avoided Wang-Tang's sweeping kick and shot the blade forward. Wang-Tang only managed to dodge in time, but not fast enough to avoid having his shirt slashed.

Jack drew his blade back and charged again, his blade sliding through the air dozens of times and each time Wang-Tang only just managed to dodge away; his clothes being torn and cut. Finally Jack's boot lashed out in a kick and Wang-Tang was sent flying backwards to crash through the window and outside into the pouring rain.

"Mine…" He laughed bringing the aqua blue stone up to his eye, the pupil contracting at the sight of it; each wrapped finger refusing to let go of the jewel in its grasp.

"Murderer!" A voice snarled. Falcon blinked to clear his vision and glanced up. Julia was standing there in the doorway, her gaze locked on Jack. Her nightgown around her was completely black and her hair was let out of its usual buns, hanging around her shoulders. The look on her face was that of murderous rage. It was if some other personality was overriding that of Julia herself.

Jack simply blinked his one eye once and laughed.

"Pretty lady, cut up nice and slow." He placed Ayame's power Stone back into his pocket and clicked his fingers, the other dagger hilt now flying into his grasp. Julia said nothing, not even as Jack advanced towards her.

"Julia, move it!" Falcon declared throwing himself back up to his feet. Acting without thinking he reached into his pocket for his Power Stone, but to his horror he found nothing there. "What?" He both pockets, even those on the inside of his jacket. His Stone was gone.

Julia slowly raised her hands and held perfectly in her slender hands as the stone. Falcon looked alarmed.

She must have picked his pocket when she barged past him through the door, there was no other explanation. At the sight of another Stone, Jack hesitated before hissing loudly and charging anyway. His dagger left aloft ready to stab down.

The Power Stone of Metal buzzed loudly and glowed a bright crimson. Without warning the daggers in Jack's hands sparked and melted. The heat generated burn the bandages and Jack cried out, dropping to his knees and holding his hands close to him as he hollered in pain. The molten remains of his weapons burning on the floor.

"Bad lady! BAD BAD BAD!" The slayer snarled, staggering backwards a few steps. Julia took a single step forward and the stone glowed again Jack recoiled as if struck by a physical blow, sliding over the floor like a scuttling insect.

"Julia what are you doing?" Falcon demanded but the blonde haired young woman refused to even acknowledge that he was there. The stone glowed again and was slammed back into the wall, the plaster falling away in small fragments.

"Silly lady, Bad silly lady!" Jack hissed from behind his bandages. "I have momma now! You too late." Without another word he arched his background and like a snake vanished into the fireplace; darting past the flames and up the chimney stack.

The stone in Julia's grasp glowed again and the bricks started breaking apart and crashing down onto the floor engulfing the fire, the explosions following Jack up. Unfortunately the slayer outpaced it and burst out onto the roof.

"Julia stop it!" Falcon demanded, as the woman's attention turned to the ceiling and she started blasting the stones energy through the floor boards in an attempt to hit Jack. By now the slayer had dropped down the side of the manor house and was darting across the grounds clutching his scolded hands to his chest where the Power Stone was kept.

Cackling insanely as he made his escape into the shadows.

"What in the name of tar nation?" Gunrock demanded heaving his large bulk into the room.

As if she were no longer herself, Julia whipped around and directed the stone directly at him. The shockwave struck the Mexican head on and he tipped back. Apollus had enough time to cry out before the large man's bulk pinned him and several policemen to the floor.

Ryoma silently slid past them and into the room with both Katana drawn. He had been expecting something else but catching sight of Julia he hesitated, unsure of what to make in this situation. The shockwave from the stone rocketed forward and to counteract it, the samurai crossed his swords in front of himself in an X. The attack seemed to flow around him as it struck, peeling the plaster off the wall behind him.

"Julia, for the love of god, that's enough!" Edward Falcon snapped, grabbing her by the shoulders. The young woman's face arched around to meet his. The Englishman stood there shocked at the mere sight of the change in it.

Her lips were parted in a sheer, spread wide. Her eyes were slight in devious desire, a lust. A lust directed at him. She wanted him, burned with desire for him.

To possess his mind, body and soul.

And to hurt, viciously hurt; anyone who tried to stop her from achieving that goal.

Without hesitation Falcon drew his fist back and then flung it forward. The blow connected with her face and the Power Stone of Metal flew from her hands, rolling to a stop nearby. Her head hung and suddenly her body went as limp as a rag doll in Falcon's grasp.

Everything went quite as if all the world's sounds were stolen away. Ryoma slowly lowered his swords and then slid them back into their sheaths with a long hiss. Falcon carried the semi-conscious Julia over to a chair and sat her down.

The front door burst open and Wang-Tang blundered in, soaked from head to foot and cut lanced through his clothes. He ignored the startled looks of the others and went straight to Ayame who was still lying unconscious on the floor.

"Ayame, Ayame wake up!" He picked her up in his arms. "Ayame speak to me!" Gunrock hoisted himself off the old butler and the police and staggered forwards into the room.

"What in gods' name just happened?" He asked rubbing the back of his head.

Ryoma glanced around the scene of complete devastation in the room and then at the molten pieces of metal burning the floor boars at his feet.

"The slayer was here?" He asked, directing his eyes towards Falcon. The Englishman didn't reply.

"Julia?" He began, gently tapping his palm on her cheek. Slowly the young woman's eyes fluttered half open, the beginnings of tears welling up in the corners.

"Edward?" She began looking up into Falcon' face. Suddenly the tears flowed freely once again and she clung to his jacket and refused to let go. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I couldn't control myself!" Unable to do anything else, Edward Falcon simply put his arms around her and held her tight.