INVISIBLE DARKNESS: An Elena Duran Story 3/4
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@ADELPHIA.NET)
Mon, 17 Dec 2001 08:26:27 -0500
INVISIBLE DARKNESS: An Elena Duran Story =20
by Vi Moreau and Janeen Grohsmeyer =20
=20
Oh, yes, Elena remembered Kevin Johnson. And his broken leg, his =
screams, his=20
fear for his family. And his blood on her gloved hands. And his =
children, who=20
had slept so peacefully, and then woken up to a world horribly changed. =
Elena=20
blinked back her tears. / I wonder if it would help to ... What the =
hell would=20
help? Not a fucking damn thing. I killed him and he didn't deserve it =
and--/
=20
"Did Kevin beg you to live? Did he ...?" Pamela drifted off, unable to=20
continue.
=20
"No," Elena said strongly. "He was brave. He was worried about you, and =
your=20
children. That's all he cared about--all of you," she said, giving his =
widow=20
this one true consolation. "And he wanted to keep his Watcher oath, =
too. But I=20
didn't let him." Elena cleared her throat. "And now I can't bring him =
back. =20
I'm sorry."
=20
Pamela swung around, trails of tears shining on her cheeks. "You're =
sorry?" she=20
repeated, grinding out the words. "You're *sorry*? What good is that?"
=20
"What do you want from me, Pamela?" Elena asked, knowing she had nothing =
else to=20
give.
=20
Pamela picked up Elena's sword. "Justice."
=20
Elena flattened herself against the pipes, an involuntary shrinking away =
from=20
death. Oh, yes, she had more to give. Her life. Her head. /!Carajo!/ =
=20
"Pamela--"=20
=20
"Can you give me one reason why you don't deserve to die?" Pamela =
interrupted,=20
her voice shaking but strong, lifting the gun in her right hand while =
she=20
gripped the sword firmly in her left. =20
=20
Elena ignored the gun and stared fixedly at the weapon she had killed so =
many=20
with, the shimmering metal lovingly wiped clean of all the blood, the =
shining=20
blade polished again and again, honed to a fine killing edge--just like =
herself. =20
"No," Elena admitted, watching closely as Pamela blinked in surprise, =
maybe=20
confusion. "I can't give you a reason why I don't deserve to die," =
Elena=20
continued. "Not one. But I can give you a reason why you shouldn't kill =
me."
=20
"I'm through listening to your lies," Pamela said, her finger tightening =
on the=20
trigger.
=20
"If you kill me, you become just like me!" Elena called out.
=20
Pamela froze in confusion, then let go of the trigger, but didn't lower =
the gun. =20
"I'll never be like *you*!" she denied. "I have every right to execute =
you! =20
What you did was murder! This is justice."
=20
Justice. Elena shook her head, remembering Duncan's words from years =
before: =20
There is no justice--only mercy. Elena had found her weapon for this =
duel, and=20
it was a weapon that could not kill. She leaned forward and spoke =
earnestly to=20
Pamela, "That's exactly what I said to myself, when I killed the =
Watchers and=20
the Hunters. I believed, in my heart, that it was justice, not =
revenge."
=20
"No!" Pamela denied furiously, her voice trembling. "You murdered my =
husband,=20
and maybe a dozen others. He was innocent. You are not innocent! You =
deserve=20
to die!"
=20
"You're right," Elena agreed, wishing she could keep her own voice from =
shaking. =20
"I am not innocent. And ... I've killed many more than a dozen, and =
you're=20
right; I deserve to die." She lowered her voice and insisted, "But =
*you* are=20
innocent, Pamela, and once you murder me in cold blood, you won't be =
innocent=20
anymore."
=20
Pamela shook her head incredulously, laughing, a strangled sound halfway =
between=20
a gasp and a sob. "You lying bitch! You'd say anything to make me let =
you go!"
=20
Elena shook her head, even as she admitted, "Yes, you're right, I would. =
But=20
I'm still telling you the truth, Pamela. I haven't lied to you, not =
once. This=20
isn't about me anymore. It's about you."
=20
"Oh, yes, it's about *you*," Pamela spat. "This is all about you. Why =
do you=20
think you're here?" Pamela's voice was harsh and grating, wounded and =
wounding,=20
scraping the protective thick skin away and rasping down into the bone. =
"You're=20
here, Elena Duran, because you deserve to die. You didn't kill those =
Watchers=20
out of revenge for your friend, or because you were angry, or because =
you were=20
frightened. You killed them because you wanted to. You killed them =
because=20
you're a damned, cold-hearted, murdering bitch!"
=20
A cold-hearted murdering bitch--it was true. Elena closed her eye =
again, trying=20
to hide. She had been so desperate those days, so unhappy, so drunk. =
"I ..."
=20
No. That didn't matter, not anymore. It never had. No excuses. She =
had=20
deliberately murdered a dozen innocent men and women, for what? To keep =
them=20
from killing others? For revenge? Hatred? Madness? Did it matter =
why? She'd=20
still done it. In cold blood. Murderous. Deliberately.
=20
"Yes," Elena whispered. "I am."
=20
"No," the other woman commanded, smiling cruelly. "You said you'd tell =
me=20
anything. Here's your chance. Look at me and say it. *Say* it."
=20
Elena took a shuddering breath of cold air, then lifted her head to look =
Pamela=20
in the eye. "I, Mariaelena Conchita Duran y Agramonte, am a =
cold-blooded,=20
black-hearted, murdering bitch." And the Hunters were cold-blooded, =
black-
hearted murdering bastards. Elena hadn't started that particular war, =
dammit--
she'd just continued it, and for good reasons.
=20
Pamela shook her head in regretful disapproval. "I don't think you =
really=20
believe it, Duran." The smile disappeared. "Not yet." She stepped =
closer and=20
bent down, breathing in Elena's face--her spittle hit Elena's cheek, and =
her=20
low, hate-filled voice went on. "I want you to remember what you did. =
Do you=20
remember the mortals you caught and tied up and tortured and killed? =
Murdered? =20
Do you remember running them through with your sword?"
=20
Elena remembered. After breaking Joe Dawson's fingers, she'd gone to =
the dojo=20
to talk to Duncan MacLeod. They'd fought first and died, both of them =
bleeding=20
and wounded on the dojo floor, and when she'd revived, she'd broken down =
and=20
cried. Duncan MacLeod's mercy, the pity and sorrow in his eyes, had =
undone her. =20
Falling into a huddled, miserable ball on the wooden dojo floor, lying =
in her=20
own life's blood, she'd wept uncontrollably for Maria and for Darius and =
Gordon,=20
all murdered by Hunters. She'd wept for all the Mortals she'd killed =
throughout=20
the centuries, and for the men and women she had hurt and executed in =
quiet=20
rooms. She'd wept for the innocent ones, the ones like Kevin Johnson =
who hadn't=20
deserved to die, and for the ones who had, and for all the ones who'd =
pleaded=20
for their lives, who had begged her uselessly. She'd wept for her =
mother, an=20
Indian slave who died when Elena was four, and for her father, beheaded =
by=20
another Immortal, and she'd wept for herself, for the evil monster she =
had=20
become. She hadn't been able to stop crying then. But now her eyes =
were dry,=20
and she felt even worse.
=20
"I want you to remember, you butcher!" Pamela snarled. "I want you to =
relive=20
it! I have, every day for over thirteen years, while you've been going =
about=20
your business, happily. Your business of killing more people." She =
laughed in=20
cold scorn. "You say you were out of control, that you had reasons. =
You say=20
you're sorry."
=20
"I am," Elena whispered, and she was--oh, she was!--but there was =
nothing she=20
could do.
=20
"Remember," Pamela insisted. "Remember their faces. See them ..."
=20
"No!" Elena didn't want to see, didn't want to remember. It was over =
and done=20
with, a time in her life she'd put behind her over a decade ago. She =
was not=20
that person anymore. Duncan had forgiven her, and she even managed to =
forgive=20
herself, a little. There was nothing she could do anyway. It was over. =
She=20
shook her head mutinously. No, no, no.
=20
"*See* them," Pamela hissed, her blue eyes ablaze, only centimeters from =
Elena's=20
own. "I want you to remember Kevin, my husband, the father of my =
children. I=20
want you to remember Claire. She was my best friend; we went to the =
academy=20
together. I was maid of honor at her wedding."
=20
Elena closed her eyes, trying to shut this all away. But Kevin Johnson =
was=20
waiting for her, there in the darkness of her mind. His face pale with =
agony,=20
screaming into his gag when Elena tapped his leg with the flat of her =
blade to=20
send splintering shards of pain up through it, torturing him to make him =
scream. =20
Claire was waiting for her, too, a tall woman with short red hair and a =
tattoo=20
of a butterfly on her left calf, gagging in pain while the butterfly's =
blue=20
wings were slowly painted red by drips of her blood.
=20
"No," Elena whispered soundlessly, trying once again to breathe through =
the ache=20
in her chest. But there had been no sword or bullets this time, only =
words. =20
Pamela Johnson had ripped open Elena's ribs again and exposed her =
heart--a dark,=20
black, damned heart. A heart that pumped not blood, but a thick black =
bile, a=20
poisonous clinging blackness.
=20
And Pamela was still with her, forcing her deeper, dragging her under, =
drowning=20
her in blood and vomit and fear. "Do you know that we found out from =
the=20
autopsy, when they cut her apart, that Claire was five weeks pregnant? =20
Pregnant, just like your friend Maria."
=20
"Oh, God no," Elena moaned. She didn't want to believe it. She wanted =
to=20
believe that Pamela was lying to make her feel worse. But she knew =
Pamela=20
wasn't lying, and Elena knew she had killed an unborn baby, too, just =
like the=20
baby she and Maria had been going to raise. Elena shut her eye hard, =
biting her=20
lips, then whispered brokenly, "I didn't ... God help me, I didn't =
know."
=20
"Neither did she. Her first baby--they'd been trying for years, and she =
would=20
have made such a good mother. And you'll never understand what that's =
like,=20
having a child in your body, being a mother, because you can never do =
it, not in=20
five hundred years or a thousand!" Pamela spit out. "You'll never =
understand=20
what it's like to live in a family, to love, because you're not even =
human, not=20
anymore."=20
=20
"I am human," Elena whispered. "I do know." She knew about love, and =
all about=20
loss. She'd lost two husbands, lovers and comrades, so many friends, and =
her=20
baby, little Tanya, dying in her arms, gasping for breath ... =20
=20
"No," Pamela contradicted flatly. "You're an Immortal, and you kill for =
the=20
Game, and you think that changes all the rules. You think it gives you =
the=20
right to kill anyone you want!"
=20
Elena knew all about killing, too. Mortals, Immortals ... she'd killed =
so many,=20
so damn many, and she wasn't even sure why anymore.
=20
"You're not human," Pamela declared again, and Elena had to wonder if =
that were=20
true. Pamela calmed herself with an effort then continued, "You tortured =
Claire=20
until she gave you our name. You forced her to betray her best friends, =
and two=20
weeks later you forced Kevin to betray someone else."=20
=20
And Elena had betrayed Connor to Bethel, in just the same way. And =
Richie and=20
Adam. Even Duncan. Everyone she loved, just to get Bethel to stop the =
pain.
=20
"And now they're dead, because you killed them," Pamela accused. "You =
killed=20
all of them. Remember," she insisted. "Remember what they said, how =
they=20
pleaded with you ..."
=20
Not that! Not that! Elena thrashed blindly against her bonds, trying =
to=20
escape, from her captor, from her memories--from herself. But their =
words came=20
clearly in the darkness. "My wife ... she was there, in bed with me--," =
Kevin=20
Johnson had said, not begging, not pleading, worried more about his =
family than=20
for his own life.
=20
Most of the others had begged. Claire had. "I don't know who Maria =
Alsonso is! =20
Please! Oh, please let me go!"
=20
So had Vicente Leon. "Si, por favor, por el amor de Dios, si, tell me =
what you=20
want me to say, anything you want!" A tall thin man with the acne =
scars, in an=20
empty hangar at a tiny deserted airport, while the desert wind rattled =
the=20
enormous sliding doors, and he shrieked out the words. "!Si, lo que Ud. =
quiera!"
=20
"I swear to God, I haven't done anything, please don't do this anymore." =
Maria=20
Perez' voice, shrill and cracked with pain, in a filthy garage. "!No me =
haga=20
eso mas! por favor, Senorita, por favor, please, please stop!"
=20
And the others. All the other voices.
Harry Mattingly: "Don't hurt me again! I can't break my oath!"
Danny Donovan: "I'll tell you everything you want."
Mark Weathers: "I never killed anyone in my life!"
Alberto Fuentes: "!Por favor! !No!"
=20
But Elena hadn't stopped, no matter what they'd said or did. No matter =
how=20
they'd begged or pleaded. She'd killed them all.
=20
Pamela's voice went on, relentless. "Remember who they were, their =
names ..."
=20
Elena shuddered as the names came rolling over her, endlessly repeating, =
a=20
ceaseless tide of death and pain: Joe Dawson, Harry Mattingly, Kevin =
Johnson,=20
Claire Carruthers, Mark Weathers, Danny Donovan, the one who was just a =
kid,=20
barely in his twenties--Mark Harrod, Olivia Sanchez, Alberto Fuentes, =
Vicente=20
Leon, Maria Perez--a grandmother-- Ernesto Moreno, Joe Dawson, Harry =
Mattingly,=20
Kevin Johnson, Claire Carruthers ...
=20
Elena ceased struggling and wailed, long and low. There could be no =
escape,=20
ever. She was damned. She had deliberately tortured helpless, innocent =
mortal=20
men and women, then murdered them. She had murdered fathers and =
mothers,=20
husbands and wives, sons and daughters, even an unborn baby. She had =
left=20
behind grieving children, lonely spouses, desperate families, many =
damaged=20
beyond repair. And she had done it over and over again. Twelve times, =
to be=20
exact.
=20
"Remember," Kevin Johnson's widow commanded one last time, then pulled =
away and=20
left Elena alone, alone with nothing but her memories--alone with =
herself.
=20
And she was nothing but darkness, to the depths of her damned forgotten =
soul.
=20
After Bethel had finished with her, Elena had thought she was nothing. =
"You're=20
a worthless, stupid mongrel bitch, and Don Alvaro never loved you," =
Bethel had=20
said to her. "How could he? You were never worthy of his love! The =
people in=20
your estancia are afraid of you, and justly so. The MacLeods don't care =
about=20
you. You're an evil, murdering whore. You're worth nothing now, and =
you were=20
never useful to anyone!"
=20
But Elena wasn't nothing. She was worse than nothing. Much worse. =
"!Dios mio,=20
perdoname!" she sobbed. Taking long, deep, despairing breaths, she sat =
numbly=20
on the cold concrete floor, blinking slowly, trying to focus and seeing =
only a=20
grey haze, trying to listen and hearing only a dim roaring in her ears. =
She was=20
deaf and dumb and blind. She had no more words, and no more weapons, =
and she=20
knew she was going to lose this duel, because she knew she deserved to =
die.
=20
Pamela returned, her gun still in her right hand, Elena's sword in her =
left.=20
=20
"I--I'm sorry," Elena whispered uselessly, offering the only thing she =
could. =20
She was exactly the kind of monster the Hunters wanted to destroy, and =
she knew=20
she hadn't changed in the last dozen years. She'd probably do it all =
over=20
again. She couldn't change anything. She couldn't bring them back; she =
couldn't save them now. And she couldn't save herself. Elena looked =
into the=20
dark hole of the barrel of the gun, the emptiness, the death, and =
whispered,=20
"I'm damned," only now realizing the full horror of those words.=20
=20
Pamela Johnson ignored the apology she had dredged up from the black and =
stinking depths of Elena's soul, and once again prepared to kill.
=20
Elena looked into Pamela's blue eyes, the blank uncaring eyes of an =
executioner,=20
and saw the darkness in her, too. "Pamela ...," Elena began, hoping to =
save at=20
least one person, "please, don't--"
=20
"'Don't'?" Pamela repeated, shouting, as the ragged edges of her =
self-control=20
gave way. "'Please don't'? How the hell do you get off-- How many of =
them=20
said that to you? How many screamed those same words?"
=20
All of them.
=20
"How many did you listen to?"
=20
Not a one. But that didn't matter, not here, not now. Elena didn't =
matter, not=20
any more, but Pamela did. "Pamela," Elena said again, stronger this =
time,=20
"Don't do this. You don't want to become a killer. Believe me, I know. =
I have=20
nightmares ... you have no idea--"
=20
"I have some idea," Pamela said, softly now. "I dream about you, you =
know," she=20
said hopelessly. Then she stiffened again, the hatred and anger =
returning and=20
bringing a crafty look to her eyes. "I don't have to kill you myself. =
I could=20
get another Immortal, let him know where you are."
=20
Elena nodded. "And he does your killing for you. Do you think that =
will=20
absolve you from my murder? You'll be just as guilty, Pamela. It will =
be the=20
same as if you beheaded me yourself. The same." She leaned forward =
again,=20
pulling painfully against her bonds and said, sadly and evenly, "The =
same cold-
blooded murdering bitch as I am, Pamela. The same."
=20
"No!" the other woman screamed, high and desperate, and in a sudden wild =
movement, she shot Elena in the leg, the bullet tearing into the thigh =
and=20
glancing off the bone.
=20
"Aaaahhh! Aaaahh!" Elena ground her teeth together, taking deep, =
shuddering=20
breaths, her head down while she panted in agony. The healing was =
already=20
starting, tiny sparks of fire arcing through the warm stickiness of =
blood. =20
Elena brought her head all the way back, gasping, looking at the ceiling =
and=20
letting the tears of pain come, then she faced Pamela again.
=20
Hunger and hatred gleamed in the Watcher's eyes as she stared at the =
healing leg=20
in revolted fascination. She stepped forward and pressed the gun barrel =
against=20
Elena's temple, pushing hard. "Did you enjoy it?" Pamela asked, her =
voice low=20
and husky. "Did you get off watching him in pain? Is that what you =
like to do=20
for fun?"
=20
"No," Elena gritted out, her neck bent to one side, the still-hot metal =
burning=20
a circle on her temple next to her hair.
=20
"Liar!"
=20
"No," Elena said again, carefully and deliberately. "I still haven't =
lied to=20
you, Pamela. You were right, I am a cold-blooded, murdering bitch." =
This time=20
when Elena said it, she believed it. She had no excuses or =
justifications for=20
what she'd done. None. Nada. She was damned.
=20
"But I didn't enjoy it," Elena explained, because Pamela had asked and =
Elena=20
owed her the truth. "I never enjoyed it. But that doesn't matter--not =
to them. =20
And not to me, not anymore, not since you made me see. Alive or dead, I =
am=20
damned. Even if I get away from you, I'll never get away from who--from =
what--I=20
am.
=20
"But you don't have to do this," Elena said, trying desperately to =
convince her. =20
"I'm tied up, helpless. Do you really think you can you shoot me and =
then chop=20
off my head? It's not easy, you know, Pamela. You'll have to pick up =
my dead=20
body and arrange it so you can get to my neck. Maybe lay it on a chair, =
then=20
swing the blade hard enough to cut through my spine, maybe hack at my =
neck a=20
couple of times to get through the bones. And the blood ... it shoots =
out away=20
from the body, a fountain of blood everywhere, on the floor, in my hair, =
spattered on your clothes ... on your hands."
=20
Pamela shuddered and lowered the gun, the sword dangling from her other =
hand. =20
"Stop it," she whispered, her face pale.
=20
Elena didn't stop. "You'll see my head rolling on the floor, maybe =
bouncing a=20
few times, maybe even landing face up and staring at you. You'll have =
to clean=20
up, dispose of me, pick up my body and my head, drag them away. And you =
will=20
never forget *any* of it." Elena swallowed hard. "But you can still =
walk=20
away," Elena repeated. "You can still be free, Pamela Johnson."
=20
"I'll never be free of you," Pamela Johnson said viciously. "No matter =
what I=20
do. But if I am going to hell, I want you to get there first."
=20
Pamela raised the gun and fired, and Elena saw blinding stars and =
splintered=20
lightning, then only darkness, once again.
=20
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D
=20
Elena came back to life with a shudder and a gasp. /I'm getting really =
tired of=20
this./ And where was she this time? Still in the old shed, but untied =
now,=20
lying with her head and torso on a pile of wooden pallets, to elevate =
her neck=20
off the floor. An impromptu chopping block, to make that killing stroke =
just a=20
little easier.
=20
Her sword lay on the floor a few paces away, pointing at her head.
=20
For long moments she lay on the pallets in a pool of her own, sticky, =
mostly-
dried blood, slowly healing, shaking with agony and with a coldness that =
came=20
from within. It was all within her, the coldness, the darkness, the =
evil.=20
=20
She wondered if Pamela Johnson was still around, watching her. But =
Elena=20
doubted it, or she wouldn't still be on the floor. Pamela was gone, and =
Elena=20
wondered why she'd been spared. Maybe, when it came right down to it, =
Pamela=20
had not been able to actually cut off someone's head. Maybe Pamela was =
afraid=20
of having even worse nightmares than she had now. Was it weakness or =
cowardice=20
on Pamela's part? Or was it strength? Or mercy? Elena had no idea, =
and as she=20
lay there, thinking, she wondered if Pamela had really done her a favor.
=20
Elena lifted her head centimeter by centimeter and looked around the =
empty room. =20
She had been right--no Pamela. The metal scaffolding where Pamela had =
tied her=20
was opposite the door, and Elena's coat lay in a heap in the corner. =
The floor=20
was dirty and cold, and her elbow still throbbed--
=20
Finally Elena sat up slowly, then grabbed her wrist and yanked, =
wrenching the=20
elbow back into its socket. The pain shot through her, and this time =
she=20
welcomed it. She was a damned cold-hearted fucking murdering bitch, and =
pain=20
was what she deserved.
=20
It took Elena long minutes to gather enough strength--or will--to get to =
her=20
feet, and it occurred to her how vulnerable she would be to another =
Immortal=20
right now. But no other Immortal would show up, she knew. /It wouldn't =
be that=20
easy, and I won't get that lucky./
=20
She stumbled toward the open doorway, wondering if she had the guts to =
face the=20
day. To face herself. Standing in the threshold, leaning heavily =
against the=20
doorframe, breathing hard and shuddering, she looked out into a nearly =
black=20
misty world that showed occasional glimpses of wind-twisted trees on the =
hillsides and spiked artichoke leaves in the field below. The eastern =
hills=20
glowed faintly around the edges. The night was almost over.
=20
But the darkness had just begun. Pamela had been right. She was right.
=20
Elena stood there for a long time, staring into the cold and swirling =
fog. But=20
she couldn't stay in this shed forever, and she couldn't leave without =
her=20
sword. Even now, even knowing what she was, she couldn't walk away from =
her=20
sword. She shrugged into her coat and made her way over to the sword, =
then fell=20
heavily to her knees, staring at the weapon.
=20
/Oh, God. My God. What the hell did I do, for eighteen months, =
eighteen months=20
of killing and getting drunk and killing again. Killing innocent =
people. =20
Killing mortals I *knew* were innocent. For what!?/
=20
Elena knelt there, swaying. She had no strength left--not even to cry, =
or to=20
pray. Holy Ground, she needed Holy Ground. She needed to pray, to =
confess. =20
Elena forced herself upright and picked up her sword, the handle cold in =
her=20
hand, then stumbled outside to get her bearings. The dark line of trees =
along=20
the dry bed of the Carmel River meandered in the distance before her; =
she wasn't=20
that far from the monastery. Pamela had probably shoved her in a car =
trunk and=20
driven around for a while, looking for a remote place to kill her.
=20
Elena walked on the soft dark earth of the artichoke field until she =
reached the=20
highway, then plodded south, just concentrating on putting one foot in =
front of=20
the other, refusing to allow herself to think. Finally, through the =
dark=20
branches of a grove of cypress trees, she caught a glimpse of the square =
bell=20
tower of the church. Elena turned to walk up the driveway of the =
convent, and=20
the gravel crunched loud under her shoes as she climbed the hill.
=20
She approached the cream-colored adobe building slowly, then mounted the =
stone=20
stairs that led to the door. It looked so much like the churches she'd =
gone to=20
as a child, with its red tile roof and small stained glass windows, the =
double=20
curve of the arches that spoke of the Moors and of Spain. Elena had =
gone to=20
church every morning with her aya, and every Sunday with her father, =
trying--and=20
failing miserably--to be quiet and not to fidget while the priest =
chanted the=20
mass and said the prayers.
=20
But this church was locked, its heavy wooden doors closed against her. =
She=20
didn't deserve the consolation of asking God to help her. Dazed, she =
looked=20
around her. The courtyard was quiet and still. The Carmelite sisters =
were=20
hidden behind their cloister walls. Elena shivered in the shadows of =
the=20
doorway, then turned and walked back down the stairs, knowing one more =
place she=20
could try. The grotto in the cypress grove--she could pray to the Holy =
Mother=20
there.
=20
The trees wove a roof of branches overhead, and the curving path was =
thick and=20
soft with faded needles, an earth-brown walkway in the dim and greenish =
light. =20
Elena paused at the entrance to the grotto, a tiny chapel with tree =
trunks=20
instead of stone columns and green leaves instead of a red-tiled roof, a =
living=20
cave. Elena laid her sword carefully at the base of a tree. She =
couldn't take=20
it in here.
=20
A wooden bench faced the small stone statue of Madonna and child, but =
Elena=20
ignored it and went straight to her knees, bowing her head in prayer and =
taking=20
refuge in long-familiar words. "Hail Mary ... Dios te salve Maria, llena =
eres de=20
gracia, el Senor es contigo."
=20
But the Lord was not with Elena. The Hunters had been right after all: =
/"You're=20
an unnatural monster who doesn't deserve to live."/
=20
Elena shook her head and kept going, ignoring the memories in her mind. =
"Bendita=20
tu eres entre todas las mujeres."
=20
Some women were blessed, not her. Elena had not lied to Pamela, and =
Pamela had=20
spoken only the truth in return: /"You are a damned cold-hearted =
murdering=20
bitch, Elena Duran."/ A damned cold-hearted murdering bitch in thought, =
in=20
word, and in deed.
=20
"Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesus," Elena continued =
desperately,=20
staring at the child cradled in its mother's arms, as she had once =
cradled the=20
infant Carmela close against her heart. And just what would Carmela =
think of=20
her now, a murderer of innocents, of unborn children, a monster with =
blood on=20
her hands?
=20
"Santa Maria, Madre de Dios," Elena choked out, then abandoned the =
prayer for a=20
simple mantra of guilt and pain, pressing her forehead against the =
ground. "Mea=20
culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa ..."
=20
Voices sounded in her head, lapping and overlapping like waves upon the =
shore,=20
dragging at her, pulling her down. "I swear to God, please don't do =
this=20
anymore! /!No me haga eso mas, por favor, senorita! Please, please =
stop! I'll=20
tell you everything! Please, for the love of God, stop, I beg you!"/
=20
But she hadn't stopped, she hadn't listened, no matter what they'd said =
or done. =20
She had tortured twelve people, and then she had killed them all.
=20
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered, but now her own voice crashed =
down=20
upon her, and she whimpered in remembered fear. "!No, Bethel, por el =
amor de=20
Dios, no! I'll do anything, anything! Please stop!"
=20
But Bethel hadn't stopped, he hadn't listened, no matter what she'd said =
or=20
done. He had tortured her and he had killed her, over and over again. =
Elena=20
froze, immobilized by that single searing thought: She deserved =
everything=20
Bethel had done to her, because she had done the same. =20
=20
No wonder the church had been closed to her. She wasn't fit to set foot =
inside. =20
She wasn't fit to live. She was damned. She was one of the walking =
undead, a=20
vampire who killed in the darkness and sucked out people's life-blood. =
Elena=20
shuddered and backed out of the grotto, cringing as she scuttled away.
=20
She stopped at the edge of the grove and stared unseeing into the =
glowing haze=20
of white fog, stood there shattered into pieces by another blinding =
thought, the=20
logical conclusion: She was just like Bethel, that sadistic evil =
monster. She=20
was just like him.
=20
The same.
=20
/"You belong to me, body and soul."/
=20
Oh God, no. Not that. No.
=20
Yes.
=20
He was right. Bethel had been right about her. She was a worthless, =
murdering=20
bitch. She was exactly the same as Bethel, and the Watchers had hated =
and=20
feared her, just as she had hated and feared him. Just the same. The =
same=20
helplessness, the same unheard pleas for mercy, the same screams of =
terror and=20
pain. The same.
=20
A bird was singing somewhere nearby, welcoming the dawn. Elena fell to =
the=20
ground and vomited onto the sandy soil, retching up bile and blood, =
choking on=20
dark and bloody fear, an unceasing vomiting of self-hatred and despair.
=20
Water, she needed water. She needed to get clean. Elena fled down the =
hill and=20
across the hard black road, then on to the scrub-covered dunes. =
Branches and=20
brambles caught at her clothing, bony fingers clutching at her soul. =
Elena=20
pushed her way through, sobbing and panting, finally reaching the =
storm-scoured=20
beach, finally reaching a place where she could run. Small broken =
balloons of=20
brown kelp squeaked underfoot, and tiny black flies rose in clouds =
around her=20
ankles. Elena kept running, the sand giving way to pebbles and narrow =
bands of=20
tide-washed debris, then back to sand, and then at last to surf and =
foam, water=20
surging round a great black rock and spitting high into the air.
=20
The water was freezing, stinging her with hard-flung lashes of spray. =
Elena=20
licked the salt-water when it ran down her face, the warmth of her tears =
mixed=20
with cold ocean droplets. The waves tumbled over her, pushed her and =
dragged at=20
her, pulled her deeper as she scrubbed at her face and her arms and her =
hands=20
over and over again.
=20
/"You are a cold-hearted, murdering bitch, Elena Duran. You're not even =
human."/
=20
Elena collapsed to her knees, weeping soundlessly as she remembered =
those words. =20
Even the ocean couldn't wash away all the blood from her hands, and =
nothing=20
could ever clean her soul. She had been so glad she hadn't had to kill =
Bethel,=20
didn't have his consciousness as a part of hers--but it didn't matter. =
She=20
*was* Bethel, and Bethel was her. She was damned.
=20
The next wave swept over her completely, lifted her up and carried her =
out to=20
sea, tumbling her endlessly, in a world of no direction and no end. =
Elena=20
floated unresisting, wanting to die, but she couldn't help but gasp for =
air as=20
she was pummeled and beaten against the rocks by the waves. And she was =
condemned to live--that was her punishment. The ocean vomited her back =
onto the=20
shore, and Elena was left sprawling face-down in the sand. Her arms =
spread wide=20
and her fingers clutched feebly at the sand, as her broken body twitched =
with=20
cold and pain, crucified on the cross she'd built with her own bloody =
hands.
=20
"Mea culpa," she whispered, wishing she'd listened more carefully when =
her=20
father, Don Alvaro, had made her go to the Catholic masses. Ah, but =
this one=20
she knew: "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I am a sinner. I =
am--"
=20
But Elena couldn't even ask for forgiveness, not any more, not after she =
what=20
had done. One thing only was left to her, a plea to be remembered in =
prayer. =20
"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me, a sinner, now and at the hour of =
my=20
death, for I am damned."
=20
/?Dios mio, what have I done?/