Date: Tue, 11 Oct 1994 10:57:04 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Brian Macleod Subject: Behind Blue Eyes, part 2 Continuing the Descendants to the Prize story... ************************************************************************* *************************H I G H L A N D E R***************************** *****************B E H I N D B L U E E Y E S********************* ************************************************************************* BY BRIAN PROCOPIO, BASED ON THE FILM OF THE SAME NAME. COPYRIGHT 1994 CHAOS PICTURES, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- With sword in hand, David Macleod inched his way towards the closed entrance of his house, the tell-tale buzz of a waiting immortal ringing in his ears. He slammed open the heavy oak door to find... nothing. He stepped out onto his porch, seeking out the nearby immortal with every sense. He heard a scape of rubber on concrete behind him, but as he began to react a hand grabbed his chin and pulled back, exposing the flesh of his neck beneath as a metal blade was placed firmly against it. David went pale, freezing instantly, seeing the inevitable before him. The immortal behind him spoke in a strangely familiar Scottish lilt, "Landshark!" David released his pent up breath. "MacKenzie, you're alive," he muttered. "That's one hell of an enthusiastic greeting for your old teacher!" exclaimed Brian MacKenzie. "Well how would you react if someone you thought was dead for a few months now showed up at your door holding a sword to your throat?" replied Dave. "Ah! Sorry," apologized Brian, sheathing his sword and releasing his student. "MAC! YOU'RE ALIVE!!!!!" cried Dave as he turned and slapped MacKenzie on the shoulder. "Where the hell have you been? I thought Marak killed you?" "Eh, it's a long one, mind if we head inside a bit, my ass was freezing out here waiting for you, what took you so long to get here?" With that, the two reunited friends journeyed inward in search of warmth and comfort, as well as an explanation... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Oh no, we DID fight, Marak and myself, that much was true," continued Brian, sipping his cup of hot chocolate. "But what happened? Where have you been? Why did he say he killed you?" questioned Macleod. "Whoa, one question at a time, Dave. As I was saying, He found me as I was on my way to spar with you. As such, I only had on me my sparring blade. Now, granted, in and of itself it isn't a bad quality sword, but it's not really suited for full combat. I had it specially made to be the same weight and size as my regular sword, but anyway... Marak and I fought and, while it wasn't exactly a shutout, I was holding the upper hand throughout. We were out near Star Rock, up near the overlook down to the valley. At one point, however, one of my blocks was a little off, and Marak was coming at me full force with that dammed broadsword of his..." "This dammed broadsword?" David interjected, pointing to the sword hanging from his wall. "Yes," answered MacKenzie, "THAT Dammed broadsword. That thing cracked my katana clean through. I barely escaped as it was. I ended up doing a back flip off the cliff onto the train passing underneath. I woke up two states later in the middle of the coal car." "And it took you this long to get back here?" interrogated Dave, trying to find explanations for his mentor's mysterious two-month absence. "I had some things to take care of," replied Brian. "I had to get a new trench coat, for starters," he grinned," but there were other things. Certain foes from long ago come to settle certain scores and such, tracking me down enroute. Lots of things. Besides, I knew you'd pull it off without my help, and it's usually better for a pupil to leave his instructor for awhile after his first Quickening." "Why, though?" "I don't know. Like so much of our existance there are too many questions and not enough answers. It's just easier that way," answered MacKenzie. "Why did Marak tell me you were dead?" questioned Macleod. "Marak was an expert at psychological warfare, he knew what buttons to push to throw you off. Telling someone you just murdered their instructor can certainly cause a level of doubt to arise in them." The older immortal paused for a moment, then continued, "Anyway, why don't you go show me what you've learned these past few months, shall we?" ______________________________________________________________________________ =========================================================================