I don't own Gargoyles, or anything related to the television show, books, or comics.

I just have an imagination and I'm not afraid to use it, with my imagined creations including but not limited to Gabrielle, Bret, a nurse named Werk, and an old cardiologist guy that we may or may not ever see again.

Sorry for the long wait, guys! Promise not to hate me for it?

I was a bit iffy on this chapter. I was worried about OOC-ness and some simple errors, mostly. Tell me if you catch the crime, or any other literary wrong-doing, okay?

Don't forget to Read and Review!

Thank you!

*Chapter 7*

Demona chuckled, extending a claw out to her new servant. "Now, rise my lamb."

Gabrielle quickly obeyed, the action followed with a short bow. "Anything for you, Mistress."

The gargoyle's eyes glinted. "Good." She gently cupped the side of the woman's face with her oversized claw, the gesture almost kind and maternal. "Now, I want to you to take this," She reached behind her, struggling a bit with what seemed to be the unfastening of something. After a series of clicks, she took her hand back and made a fist in front of Gabrielle's face. "I want you to kill everyone, excluding Angela, Goliath, Elisa, and I, with this," She opened her claw and dropped a handheld gun into the human's hand. "Leave them to me."

Gabrielle eagerly nodded. "Yes, Mistress!" She hopped toward the bewildered group and sighed delightedly. "So," She began, speaking as casually as she would to someone asking about the weather. "Who's first?"

No one moved.

She eyed each person one by one. "Well, then, I guess I'll have to pick." Her eyes momentarily lit up, in spite of their dark emptiness, when they danced across those that Demona had asked for. "Oh, Goliath, Elisa, Angela! My mistress wants to see you. You might want to take care of business with her right now."

Demona leaped toward Gabrielle, catching her in a choke-hold. "Do you want your human friend to die, Goliath? Because I assure you, her neck is all too easy to snap, and I can always get another one." She almost giggled when Gabrielle didn't flinch or show any concern whatsoever.

Goliath's hands were in fists, uncontrollably shaking. "No, I don't want anyone to die." He articulated his words too cleanly, his tone an icy calm, a remarkable contrast to the angry trembling of his body.

"Then come," She smirked, releasing Gabrielle. "Come, Goliath, and hurry to your doom." Laughter erupted from her throat, unable to contain her joy any more. Her servant was just standing there, rather dumbly, full-blown admiring—beaming—at Demona for just about everything she was doing. She pushed Gabrielle away from her. She'd have plenty of time to be amused later when everything was taken care of.

The clan's leader grimaced at Demona's sadistic mirth. He looked over to Angela, then to Elisa, and grudgingly led the way to the insane female gargoyle. He passed her, crossing to other side of the rooftop so he could face his clan and Demona had to have her back to her servant and those that she ordered to be killed.

"Ah, Goliath," she sighed. "I never thought it'd ever really come to this. Don't worry, I'll make your death extra slow." She lunged at him, causing him to lose his balance momentarily, but he soon was able to defend himself and fight back.

Gabrielle turned away from the scene. She smiled back at the small group of humans. "I'll ask again. Anyone for first?"

Brooklyn stepped forward, his eyes wide. "Gab, please don't do this. You know you don't want to."

Gabrielle cocked her head to the side. "Why wouldn't I? I'd want to do anything Mistress asks me to!"

Brooklyn's voice shook. He glanced back to the others, but they were frozen with worry, just like he was. "But, we're you friends, Gab. Demona isn't."

Gabrielle raised the gun, taking aim. "You're not my friends."

He stepped forward again, nearly choking from the lump in his throat. He wasn't afraid to die, but he was afraid of the change that had come over Gabrielle. It wasn't her at all. Something had taken over kicked her out of her own body. It was like a totally different person was walking around using her as a shell. Brooklyn shivered. "Gab, please—"

"Take another step closer and I purposefully miss a vital organ, delaying the speed of adrenaline and slowing blood loss, making your death more agonizing and prolonged. Is that what you want?" Her smile had vanished, and her voice was cold. It sounded so unlike her, that Brooklyn had momentarily wondered if it was really her that was talking. Her smile returned. "I didn't think so." Without hesitation, she took aim at a vital organ, and shot.

Brooklyn couldn't breathe. He heard his friends gasp and scream. She really shot at him! He looked down, mentally preparing himself to see whatever gore was left of him.

To his disbelief (and relief), he was fine. There were no visible wounds. His head snapped back up at Gabrielle. Her face expressed such horror that he had to quickly look away. He still couldn't breathe. He looked back at her, scared out of his mind. She wouldn't miss a second time.

Gabrielle looked as if she were about to cry. Her mouth was open wide like she was shrieking. Both of her hands shook as she held the gun, and her head nodding back forth as if she were trying to deny what had just happened.

Brooklyn took a large gulp. "Gab?"

Her eyes came into focus. They came into focus! In spite of the loneliness, the darkness that had fogged over her eyes, there was a sign of life! Brooklyn fantasized briefly of running over to her to embrace her, to welcome the Gab he knew back into his life, but it was forgotten when her face dramatically changed into an ugly, hideous illustration of hellish fury. Her teeth were bared, her jaw clenched, and her eyes….though full of focus, were just as cruel as Demona's. "Shut up! Although we all know you'll die soon enough, I'd prefer it if you didn't call me that." She spat, scowling. "Your pitiful attempt at intimately calling me by a ridiculous nickname has irritated me to the point that I couldn't take proper aim. Give up!" She barked, her voice powerful and booming. "Just stop talking and make this easier for everyone!" She pointed the gun to the sky, her hands no longer shaking, and shot the rest of the bullets at it.

After a silence, a smirk crept back into her features. "Finally, you stopped talking." She seemed to have difficulty silencing a persistent chuckle at the group's twisted, fearful, and confused features. She turned her head slightly to spy Demona. "Mistress!" She cried, a certain innocent ring in her voice. "I have such horrible aim! I'm so sorry!" She turned back to Brooklyn and the rest of the clan that remained behind him, and winked.

"What?" Demona growled. "You fool! You failure!" She punched Goliath square in the jaw, causing him to stumble back. She ran to Gabrielle, seizing her shoulders and violently shaking her. "Fool! How could you have done so poorly! I…" Her voice began to fade. "Your eyes!" She narrowed her own. "Your eyes…they're wrong…"

Gabrielle panicked. "Mistress, what is it? What's wrong?" She covered her eyes with her hands. "I'll do anything to fix it, Mistress, just tell me! What do you want me to do?"

Demona snarled. "You're beginning to disgust me." She snorted, stepping back. She outstretched her arm. "Go over there," She pointed to an edge of the roof. "And jump off."

Gabrielle's breathing grew shallow and she spoke very quickly. "But, why? Of course I'll do it, mistress, but I'm just confused. I'll do anything to help you, but how will this in any way serve you? I'm so confused! I'll do anything for you Mistress, I love you, Mistress, I love you!" She was visibly frantic, and Brooklyn, as he watched, dumb-struck, he could have sworn that she was several shades paler.

Demona struck Gabrielle, sending her a foot or two across the rooftop. "If you love me, you will jump! Now, go!"

Gabrielle's chin trembled, in spite of her efforts to bit her lip into nonexistence and hide her fear. In contrast to her demeanor, her voice was steady, though thin. "Yes, Mistress, of course." She slowly stood, recovering from the blow from Demona, and gradually made her way to the nearest edge.

She stood, teetering nervously, trying her best to ignore the shouts and pleas of the clan. She stole a glimpse of Demona from over her shoulder. "Mistress," She called timidly. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Gab, don't jump—!" Gabrielle recognized Broadway's voice, but he was cut off and his speech grew muffled.

Demona was eerily calm. "One of your eyes is green. The spell is wearing off—or breaking. If you still love me, you'll jump, and you'll have nothing to worry about. If you have already broken free from the spell, then I'll kill you myself."

"But, lass," Hudson interrupted. "Doancha know tha' the coler of 'er eyes changes to their normal shade when the spell 'as completely taken over?"

Demona scoffed. "Don't lie to me, old soldier. I study all my spells and their effects before casting them."

"Oh, really, lass?" He stroked his beard. "Well I prithee tha' ya go and check-see."

"I don't need to check on something that I'm sure of! You're just cheaply buying your friend time! It's a pitiful and see-through plan, old timer!" she returned her attention to Gabrielle. "Jump! Or I'll provide you and your friends with a demise that shall bind your very spirits to the earth!"

The last thing Gabrielle heard before her plummet was Brooklyn crying out her name.

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