Wards of Darkness.

OOC: Here's a link to the out of character thread for this story, it contains all the character bios and lots of behind the scenes information. Please feel free to leave constructive feedback in the OOC thread.

Link to the out of character discussion thread.

IC:

The day Jerome Manning was to return to work had arived. Considering what he had been through he was uncharacteristically upbeat. Especially for a man who had recently lost his only daughter, the last piece of family he had had left. But then the emotionally beaten and defeated Jerome was gone... He followed his daughter into the abyss. Now, Enumael wore his flesh and smiled, ordering a cup of 'coffee' from the local merchant on the street where he lived as he tucked the folder full of 'case' profiles under his arm so he could accept the hot beverage with both hands. He sipped at the coffee as he walked to Bishops Gate.

The first few days of wearing Jerome's body had been... Interesting to say the least. The first sensation he felt was the need to purge his stomach of its contents. That was less than pleasant... After that Enumael spent hours aclimating to the use of his arms and legs while perusing the place he now lived. Finding the folder he took with him Enumael learned that Jerome was a psychiatrist, someone who was paid to help others deal with deep seeded mental and emotional problems. The job seemed easy enough to handle, Enumael thought as he poured over the collection of files in the folder.

Eventually he felt a disturbing void in his stomach demanding to be filled. Reluctantly Enumael tore himself away from the files to search for something to ingest to end the obnoxious feeling. The first thing he found was a box in a cupbord with the picture of a child using a metal tool to put tiny rings made of grain in his mouth. Enumael didn't know where to find a similar tool, so ignored that and reached into the box taking out a hand full of the rings and stuffing them into his mouth.

The rings were sweet and crunchy, so Enumael consumed them by the hand full, until the box was empty. By then, the empty feeling in his stomach was gone. Finally, he could go back to the files. He'd been reading about one Margaret Johnston a troubled young woman who thought she was a vampire. The last time Enumael had been present on earth the cursed man, Caine had built a city and sired three children, spreading his curse to them. It would be interesting to find out if what this girl thought was true, and she was decended from Caine. At least one familiar thing remained...

At some point Jerome's body went limp on Enumael and he found himself suddenly within the realm of dreams. He tried to leave, but Jerome's body would not respond. It took several uneventful hours before Jerome's body finally responded and Enumael returned to the waking world. Again Jerome's body was plagued with uncomfortable sensations. This one was as even more urgent than the first. Something needed to be expelled, but it had been so very long since Enumael had been around mortals that he had simply forgotten what. The echo's of Jerome's memories saved Enumael from making a mess, guiding him to the 'toilet'. The relief he felt was almost profound.

Enumael returned to his reading for several more days, eventually getting used to the nessessary annoyances of being in a mortal body. The only other distraction from his reading was a strange sound that came from a mechanical device, which was always followed by a voice asking for someone to leave a message. A couple times someone even replied to the voice, asking how Jerome was. That made Enumael chuckle a little. They also asked if Jerome was ready to return to work.

The day had come for Enumael to take Jerome's place in the world. He relied on Jerome's memories to lead him to Bishops Gate, the place where he worked. It was a very long walk, but Enumael had discovered a can of black grounds, called coffee one of the times his stomach felt empty. It was gritty and tasted horrible but had a way of making him feel awake and energetic even when he was about to go limp and enter the dream realm again.

Briana checked her notes.
She looked up at the wall, her only other place to keep track of her ideas. “No, must adjust for the flux in the capacitor.. and allow for the variance in the flange interchange.” she nodded and made a note.
She was not allow pencils, pens, and paper was loose without folders or anything she could break and use as a weapon, not that she had ever tried to make a weapon.
But orders were orders.

From floor to ceiling, the walls were covered with diagrams and notes. Inventions she claimed, new devices to make the world much better.

Originally, she had two chairs, a desk, her bed and a lamp.
Now, she had a desk, a chair, a bed.
The over head light was more than she needed and she had her lamp taken away when she had tried to take it apart, something about being bothered all the time by the nurses and wiring the door.

A grease pencil, while hard to use as a weapon, she was only allowed one until it ran out, then she had to exchange the nub to get a new one.

Without some way to write, to work out her ideas, she became sullen and withdrawn.
Once she was allowed to pursue her thoughts and write, she became open, critical and sarcastic, but open. She also became very neat and tidy.
Her request for a lab coat had been turned down again and making her pajamas look professional was tricky, but do-able.

She stepped back, something occurred to her, something was going to happen, a minor event, what was it?
“Ah!, why hasn't heir Doctor Manning pestered me of late, is the good Doctor distracted by a new charge?.. how... unimportant.” she instantly launched herself back into her work.

When the nurse brought her noon time medications and lunch, she looked upon the wall and instantly became concerned.
Briana had always drawn machines to make life easier, machines that made breakfast all by themselves, dressed you, washed the house.
But there was no mistake, what she had drawn this time, could only be called a weapon, a very alien weapon, but a weapon none the less.
She made sure Briana took her meds and ate her lunch, not that she needed to.
Then made a bee line to inform Doctor Manning once he arrived.

Briana looked up at her new idea, it had been in her head for while, but now, she was inspired, “Where can I find a capacitor in the 40 watt range?”

The morning started like always. Pills at six, breakfast at seven, shower time at eight. Margaret hated the routine, hated being made to awaken before the sun had even passed the tops of the nearest buildings. She hated it here. She knew she shouldn't even be here.

What had she done that was bad enough to end up in this place of screams and tortures and mentally ill people? Nothing. She had only gotten rid of the garbage in her life. She had gotten rid of the man who had made her life hell for almost ten years. They should have given her a medal for withstanding his abuses. They should have thrown her a party.

Instead? She was here. With people who weren't what they seemed. Who smelled of animals and magick. Her Sire explained to her, over and over again, that it was safest for her in here. That he couldn't help her just yet. That she wasn't strong enough to be taken from this place and introduced to her new family. Not yet.

Even so, she hated it.

"You know that Dr. Manning is due in today. I expect that you will be on your very best behavior?"

The voice crashed into Margaret's brain. A train wreck of sound. Whipping her head slightly to the left put the woman who was screeching at her, completely in her view. It was the nurse, her nurse.

"I didn't think I had to be any different than I am right now, but I will try."

The woman laughed. Disappeared out the door, like she was a bunny. Margaret retreated, back to the bed with the white coverlet that constituted the only safe place she had here, in this hell hole.

Thoughts whirled.

The doctor was returning to check on his charges. Would that make things better for them...or worse? Margaret was sure that he wouldn't be the jovial man he had been before...before the death of his wife, the suicide of his daughter. Before his life went to hell in a hand cart.

Would that help or hinder? Would he understand her need to get out of here, away from the walking talking meals? The things that made her want to tear and rend and destroy? Would he let her go now, now that he had been into the depths?

She spoke out loud, her voice still slight rusty from disuse.

"We will see what we see, today."

With that thought stated, Margaret returned to bed. Slender fingers pulled the coverlet up to her throat and wide, gray eyes closed against the sunlight that flooded her room. No point in worrying about it, not now. Things would work out. Her Sire had promised...but she would ask him again, when she saw him tonight.

Carlita heard the small hole in her door open. She knew someone was staring at her even though her back was to the door. They always stared and assessed and usually chickened out before stepping foot into her room. Carlita liked it like that. It was better to be left alone. Alone. It was her only friend. Carlita inwardly shook her head at her thoughts. A word can't be someone's friend and yet that word was Carlita's best friend, family, and lover all wrapped into one.

"Carleeta," the nurse drawled out Carlita's name making the girl's shackles raise slightly. "You've been on the nurex for 2 weeks. How do you feel?" Carlita didn't say anything. She just continued staring at the wall.

"I'm going to go in. I think this drug is the one that we can keep her on for awhile." Carlita overheard the nurse talking to someone else before the nurse spoke back to Carlita and slightly raised her voice. "Carleeta? ... I'm going to come in now. ... okay?"

Carlita still hadn't moved. Hadn't flinched. She heard the rustling of keys and she could feel her muscles tensing even though outwardly she looked the same. The dead bolt slid back in a telling clang and in that instant Carlita was at the door. She pulled on it, opening it, and in that moment she felt a prick. Her eyes went wide before the world went fuzzy.

"Damn she's fast. Why'd you open the door and almost let her out?"

"I didn't. Her body is accumulating to too many drugs too quickly." There was a brief pause. "We're running out of drugs to give her that would keep her doped up and us safe."

Carlita struggled to hear the rest. What was their next move? If they were running out of ways to keep her placid and leased like a dog than did that mean her day of freedom was coming? Carlita strained against the currents of this new drug that was sucking her into a void. Resisting it, fighting it to hear what more they had in store for her, but it was a losing battle.

Enumael arived at the front gates of the asylum, having walked the whole way while sipping his coffee. They were made of wrought iron, and lined with spikes in the shape of the fleur de lis. He buzzed himself in and the gates unlocked before him, latching and electronically locking behind him as he entered the grounds.

A few patients sullenly walked in the yard, none of the ones Enumael cared about though. They were too precious to allow outside, at least until he could sway them to his will. Carlita would be his first patient, she would be of great help in convincing the rest of his good intentions, he thought.

Once he reached his office, he recieved the message about Briana's newest invention appearing to be some sort of a weapon. She would have to be his next patient. He sent the nurse who'd given him the message to bring Carlita to him for her appointment with him. He sat back in Jerome's chair and waited for Carlita to arive.

Eloise lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. One finger traced along the wall beside the bed, following the groove carved into it by long hours of the same activity. There wasn't a great deal else to do in the cells. She was allowed the odd book by the orderlies, but mostly they left her alone. She was unusual among the inmates in that there was genuinely nothing wrong with her. Not that they ever asked. Her father had locked her up here cause she'd found out that something weird was going on in one of his companies. Not that she'd tried to talk to them after the first few attempts. They just assumed she was delusional like a few of the other inmates.

It was useless, she sat up on the bed, hanging her legs off the edge of the low bed, her fingers gripping the metal bars of the bed frame. She sighed, she knew she shouldn't be here, but the mindless, interminable boredom, always the same thing, this imprisonment, after a life constructed around freedoms might end up sending her mad. Now that would be ironic to be driven round the bend by the very place intended to bring the insane back. She laughed, it was pointless, there was nothing humorous, maybe they ahd already succeeded. Maybe her father had achieved what he'd always wanted and got rid of her for ever, out of the way, harmless. She stood up in frustration, began to pace the cell. Again. It was part of what kept her sane. What she hoped kept her sane. She followed the same slight groove she followed every day, like the wall she had done it for so long she had made the cell almost irretrievably her own.

Carlita gave a small half smile as she was allowed to walk the halls. There were 3 guards one on each side of her and one behind her, but she was deemed "safe." Carlita stopped and the orderly behind her gave a small cough alerting the others. Carlita turned her head towards the common area staring at all the people playing, staring, or going through different stages or throes of fit. Carlita took a step in that direction.

"Carleeta." Carlita gave a small growl at the mispronunciation of her name. "We have an appointment, but as soon as you are done with the good doctor we'll come back here. Okay?"

Carlita turned towards the nurse who had spoken to her and just like that she was in a field. No, that's not accurate. The hospital was still there, but there were trees and plants growing through the structures. There was a bright light ahead; golden, warm. Carlita took a step and she could hear the nurse mumble about that being a close one. Carlita didn't care. She had seen this place once before and she knew something was here, but she had to discover what.

Slowly the sounds started to fade away and Carlita could smell the outdoors. Not like it was outside of this damn place, but the real outside. Clean, fresh air was all around her. Damp earth mixed with warm soil, trees, and foliage. She could smell it all. The golden light was getting brighter and brighter. Carlita reached forward to touch it and just like that it was gone. She was standing in front of a door with her hand on a knob. She glanced left and right staring at the orderlies with confusion. She leaned back taking her hand off the knob. One of the nurses leaned forward and opened the door.

"Dr. Manning. Carleeta is sedated and ready to see you. I think her body might be synthesizing this drug already. I strongly suggest you leave one of the guards or nurses in here with you in case she gets violent." The nurse turned to Carlita as if she was waiting for Carlita to affirm she wouldn't get violent. Carlita just stared thinking about what had just happened. How could she trigger the outside again? How could she fully get outside and not just bring the outside inside?

The nurse sighed. "We'll have someone posted by the door like usual Doctor." The nurse left and Carlita took that as a sign to sit down.

"That won't be nessisary, Nurse Fowler, I have the utmost confidence in Carlita's self control." Enumael said, motioning for her to have a seat. Once they were alone Enumael leaned forward in his seat, steepling his fingers in front of his lips while looking Carlita over. "You seem lost in thought, Carlita... Care to share whats on your mind?" He asked, breaking the silence as he placed his hands flat on the desk before him.

Maya



Maya had arrived in the shadowlands predictably terrified, huddled in a sticky cocoon which distorted images into scary fragments of things from her nightmares, things to be feared, where was the light, where was her mother shouldn’t she have been waiting for her? Maya squeezed her eyes closed, this was nothing like how she had imagined eternity would be, she curled up into a small ball and waited shivering with fear...

The young naive girl had no idea of how long she must have drifted, until finally she was freed by the gentle hands of a shadowy figure who would later introduce himself as Umbrel; it was he who would assist Maya, guiding, training, preparing her for her journey back into the skinlands. Although Maya didn't at the time know it she had gotten very lucky in those first few hours of her rebirth...

In her first jumbled days Maya had watched her father and his downward spiral though the hazy shroud unable to reach out and sway him in his journey towards the inevitable. It had been then that she had realized how deeply she loved this man and how much she had in fact been loved in return. A small voice in her head whispered, 'it’s a sham, its only guilt he is showing you, supid girl.' Maya pushed the unwelcome words away unwilling to believe such a falsehood. So much unsaid so much time wasted. Maya was determined that she would somehow say the words; "I love you" to her father upon her return to the world of the living.

Maya never got the chance, instead she watched in abject horror as he took his own life!

She watched her tear filled eyes filled with stark pain as the imposter, a beautiful beguiling demon took over her father’s corpse.

'Kill him.'

The words floated like a living thing before her but she refused to heed their seductive call and simply turned to Umbrel. “I must return, I must help save my father…please.” The pull was almost overwhelming to return, it could no longer be denied. The old man said nothing he simply reached out for the locket around her neck and opened it placing a small scrap of his own hair, hair that would bind her to him, in the place where a second photo should have rested. Closing it he smiled for perhaps the very first time since she had first met him.

Umbrel took her thin hand in his gnarled one and proceeded to show Maya a thin place in the Shroud and that was where she found herself slipping easily back into the world she had once known to find herself in her old home this time sharing it with the evil demon.

Once again she watched and waited, gathering information, effectively keeping her presence from the Emumael.

At night she would hover at the end of his bed watching him sleep searching for weakness. "A pillow over the face ... smother him...so easy a task." The persuasive voice spoke again and once more was ignored! Maya had a plan of her own she needed to know what the Demon was up to, she needed to thwart his efforts at all cost , she needed to somehow wrest her father's body from his clutches. Maya could still feel the essence of her father, it remained comforting and familiar; she simply couldn't hurt the flesh that had given her life.

Maya watched as Enumael learned to manipulate her father’s body, the whole pantomime of life was obscene thing to behold, it almost broke her heart all over again.

She watched as he pawed through her father’s meticulous files and hatched his devious plots.

The wraith she has become was by his side in the bittersweet moments when Enumael in the guise of her father returned to Bishops gate. The predominate feeling in the inmates that wandered the grounds was one of unease underlain with something different. Their normal fear and confusion was stronger now it seemed. Her father had been missed and now upon his return he looked as if he was simply ignoring their existence as he strode purposely to his destination. The old Jerome would have ventured amongst them giving a supportive touch or an encouraging word to those who needed them. Enumael left confusion in his wake...

Maya remained with Enumael until he entered his office, only then did she leave him. She floated through walls and closed doors with delightful ease as she made her way to the recreation hall. It was filled with milling inmates many of whom she knew by name. The air here one of confusion also, world had spread of their benefactor's return, they wondered why he had neglected to visit and share his morning repast with them as had been his habit.

Maya sat down at the piano and smiled softly her whole face lightling up. Concentrating hard she lifted the lid and managed to press down a single key, the middle C. It resonated throught the room commanding silence.

Closing her eyes she began to sing a smooth haunting melody filled with promise and hope designed to lift the spirits of those around her, it was created from her heart to help reduce their suffering if only a little on this day of her return. She watched as the mood in the huge hall lifted.

Satisfied she returned to the Demons office in time to see his first patient enter escorted by nurse Fowler.

Cartlita?

Maya had never met this girl for she had always remained in the locked wing which of course had been off limits to her in life. The beautiful wraith's china blue eyes widened as she read her aura, easily recognizing who and what she was. The voice hissed in her ear, 'this is one to be destroyed' and was once again ignored, Umbrel had warned her of her baser self, her shadow. Maya had no grief with this one, she was a victim, as were most who resided at Bishop's gate.

The question was, what on earth did Enumael want with her fathers patients?

Continuing to hide her presence from them both she floated up to rest on a convenient bookcase wondering what on earth this demon was up to, she would listen and learn...

This world was dull, lifeless, an endless savvannah of grey sand that stretched away into the distance, unmarked. No distinguishing marks, nothing by which one could mark progress or chart a course. Simply the same vast expanse that drained the senses, the will power, the spark of life in her soul.

It was mind numbing, one's insignificance in this great... boring sea of grey. When one could be so alive, so colourful, so interesting. Instead she was trapped here, no way out, certainly not in the immediate future. It was stifling, truly it was, to be so free in such a boundless space and yet to be so stifled by confinement.

Jessica sat up, her mind no longer occupied by the dimpled grey paint on the ceiling. It had been entertaining, to allow herself to pick something in the room and imagine it as some sort of environment. Not that there was a great deal to offer inspiration in the square featureless room. A single room let in light that though bright and fresh, absolutely failed to enliven any aspect of the grey box Jessica found herself in.

She'd had it all, really, she had. A film star, the highest you could rise without the boredom that came with responsibility as a head of state. Fans, stylists, bodyguards, people fawing over her at every move. It had been a way of life eminently suited to her position, despite her wretched inhabitation of this environment.

Compared to that fantastic other realm this world was every bit as grey and lifeless as the ceiling of her cell. But she was here now, when she had decided to reveal her true identity as one of the Sidhe, the rulers of Arcadia and by rights rulers of this world, she had been locked up in here. It was intolerable.

But still she was locked in here, so she had little enough to do, escape was impossible, she had attempted to free herself numerous times, but faery noble or not, she simply wasn't adept enough to break out of the fortress which was Bishops Gate.

Though Jerome, she insisted upon referring to him by his first name, it gave her a sense of control and power, had always treated her respectfully she could tell he thought her mad, gone, completely and utterly disconnected from reality. Maybe she was, the Dreaming was her natural habitat, her reality and she was trapped here, separated from her home.

Carlita hadn't noticed time had passed in silence. Not until Dr. Manning spoke up. Than again she wasn't focused on the therapy session. Hell, half the time she didn't remember them. Okay, more than half as she was usually doped up to begin with. And they questioned why she wasn't getting an ounce better. At least she wasn't getting electro shock, which she thought was illegal, but whom can she tell?

Carlita shook her head getting a small moment of clarity before the fog settled back in again. "Uh, Jerome," Carlita tried to start using the man's first name like she had been encouraged before. Like they were friends. It had taken her a long time to use just his first name and just talk to him. Especially since she would say or do something which would result, back then, in her getting more "treatment" (electroshock) or not getting something she had wanted. She had stopped wanting and that had effectively cut off that route of treatment.

"I was thinking of getting better," the lies came out sluggish. It was usual for her doped up state. She had forced herself to remember these words so that in the beginning of each session she would either get praise for "trying". Whatever. She just wanted to be left alone now. "I think I am getting better."

Man she hoped they would stick with this topic. Anything new and she knew she would confused with the drugs in her system. She started to panic and sweat, probably a side effect of the drug, and she began bouncing her leg up and down at a rapid pace as she tried to control herself.

Enumael got up from his seat, seeing that Carlita was struggling through the haze of drugs she'd been given, and came around to kneel beside her, taking her hand. "Carlita, my dear, I want you to focus for me." He began to pass his force of will into Carlita's body through the light touch of his hands. "Try and look through the haze of the drugs you have been given and find your clarity of mind. And once you have, I want you to chat with me calmly and honestly... Okay?"

OOC: Using the power of Exhalt to help Carlita shake off the effects of the drugs, then Insinuate to get carlita to trust him.

Carlita's mind was still fuzzy. She wasn't sure if he had asked her something, but he was getting up which was never good. She remembered Jerome liked to stay on the other side of his desk. Well, that usually was when she was here. She didn't know if he was that cautious with the other patients. She saw him kneel beside her and she blinked quickly trying to remember what he had asked her. Had he asked her something?

"I want to get better," she repeated. Than he touched her. Everything froze. She didn't like to be touched. He knew this. It didn't dawn on her that her head was less fuzzy. What did was that he was touching her. She stared at their hands as her hackles raised. She could feel the edges of her mind saying 'trust this. This is good.' But she kept thinking of how the only time he's ever "touched" her before was to assign an orderly to put electrodes on her and then shock her. Carlita bared her teeth as she stared at their conjoined hands.

Karen sat in her bed lookimg out the window. Was she really insane? It felt like she was, seeing werewolves and vampires everywhere.. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sighed. The others made her nervous, so she tried to avoid them as long as possible.

Doctor Manning was supposed to return today. Maybe she could talk to him about what was happening. She grabbed a book and a sandwivh someone had brought and began to read her book. This place made her nervous. Would she ever get out of here and be normal? Was that too much to ask?

Maggie Dear~Memory and Dreams

Dreams are terrible things. They steal one's will. Destroy rest utterly, irrevocably. They damage. Cause harm.

It's HIM again. Battering at her. HIS body. HIS stale breath. HIS sweat dripping into her eyes, making them burn. She had been pregnant, once before. HE had tormented her with that baby's murder~telling her it was her fault. She should\n't be so lithe, so curvy, so much her mother's child.

The abuse had stopped, for that little while. The hurting and battering had ceased, while HE covered HIS ass and told everyone that she was a whore, just like her mother. A bitch who wouldn't listen. Who only understood being punished for disobedience.

But now, here HE was. Twice as ugly and mean as before. She was of a legal age now and he didn't have to be nice to her. Not any more. No matter, she didn't have to be nice to him, either.

The dream twists..turns. Margaret twists, turns...

Who knew that the slender knitting needle would enter HIS ear so easily? She hadn't known. Had only done what her protector had said. Blood rains down on her face as HIS body gives one last convulsive shudder.

HE came...before HE went.

Margaret groans low, eyes pop open...but she isn't really awake...not yet.

She can taste copper on her tongue. The needle fucks him. Over and over. The skull fuck of the century. And she laughs and laughs, licking his acidic life's blood from her lips. Because he is garbage, but he tastes...good.

"Oh...my."

Maggie sits up, eyes darting from spot to spot. The dream had awakened a hunger in the pit of her belly that mere human food would never assuage. She needs her Sire. She needs his strength.

"Margaret, you ready to go to lunch?"

Gray eyes focus on her nurse.

"The slut isn't here...I am Maggie, as you well know. And yes, please. I am starving."

Maggie stands and stretches before moving to stand just beside her personal nurse. There is a shot due, another pill given. She sees a green and gold aura...the nurse's.

"Oh, no wonder you like it here. You are very good with people and a natural healer..."

Her voice trails off. After all, the nurse doesn't care...and neither does she.

Enumael nodded in approval as Carlita bared her teeth at him. "There you are... Its good to see you awake and aware again, Carlita." He respectfully withdrew his hands from her and stood up to return to his seat. "How's your head feel? Much clearer now, I hope? I would like to discuss your treatments with you... You see, I do not feel you really require any of the sedation you've been put under, do you?" He asked as he sat back in his seat, folding his hands before him and leaning forward, over his desk.

He gave Carlita a warm smile. "Wouldn't that make you happy? Being off those drugs?" He noted the cold and distrustful manner with which she stared at him. "Ah, I see... You must still hold me in contempt for the things I have done to you in the past... I don't blame you one bit. I was a fool to have put you through those shock treatments, and if you would allow me to, I would like to make amends. So, what do you say, Carlita, I know I don't deserve it, but do you think you can find it in your heart to trust this sorry old fool?"

Carlita used every ounce of will power not to go for his throat. He was a mock Alpha, but one she would have to listen to. Carlita blinked. Alpha?! Why did that word pop into her head? It felt right? What exactly did it mean? She knew what alpha meant, but applied to the doctor? Hmm. Carlita's head swiveled up as she realized the doctor was talking to her from a distant. He didn't seem scared or worried around her. Infact, he seemed confident and again she felt a small trickle of thought float through her head: trust him.

"Yes, I can ... think. I can actually think for once." She took a deep breath and held it. It felt good. She grew very still when he mentioned 'treatments'. She didn't want anymore treatments. She could feel the tears threatened her eyes and just as quickly replaced with confusion. "You mean no more drugs? As my treatment? No drugs. Just me."

Carlita was so excited so happy and that feeling of trust sank deeper almost had her screaming yes. But she pushed back. Still weary. Still scared. "I thought you were scared of me getting out of control." Carlita kept speaking incase he changed his mind. "I won't get out of control. I'll get myself together. Just no... no more drugs or other treatments and ... I want to be allowed in the common area with everyone else or at least able to go outside. Please."

And if he allowed Carlita knew she was going to give him another chance. How could she not?

Enumael leaned back in his seat giving Carlita a genuine smile. "That is exactly what I mean. No more drugs, no more treatments, just you. You will find that you are more powerful than you know... Power has a way of scaring people when they don't understand it. It would be unreasonable for me to expect you to control what you don't understand."

"So, I will make you a deal, whenever you feel yourself slipping, before you lose control..." Enumael leaned forward, glancing about the room as though he were looking for spies. "Call out the name... Enumael..." He was careful to whisper so only Carlita could hear. "And I will come to your aid." He leaned back, snapping his fingers. "Just like that!"

"So, how about it Carlita? Do we have a deal? Will you trust me enough to allow me to help you?" He asked as he considered her request to be allowed out, in the common area. "Of course, in fact, as long as you accept my offer, when we're done here, you may go directly to the common room. Its about time you got to meet some of your fellows. Just, remember your promise, and I shall honor mine."

Maya carefully watched the byplay between Enumael and his patient, she watched as not unlike a snake-oil salesman he plied the niceties of his trade weaving his potent magic into the very fabric of whom Carlita was. Maya was disconcerted when he revealed his true self to the werewolf.

Curiouser and curiouser, she thought as he offered his supernatural talents to his supposed patient. What was this demon up to? Help was never offered by one of his ilk without a serious price to pay. Maya was just about to return to Umbrel for guidance when all hell quite literally broke loose in her small world.

Without warning, the shadows coalesced and pooled in weird bizarre forms on the floor of Jerome's office directly between him and his charge.

Maya’s eyes widened as the winds began to howl around the room making it look like a tornado had simply touched down bound and determined to suck the contents of the room into the oblivion. It happened so fast and Maya’s reaction was equally fast. Not realizing that only she was privy to the strange happenings, heedless that she was its intended victim selflessly she dropped down to the edge of the frenzied abyss determined to save them both.

Stretching out both slender arms palms towards both Carlita and Enumael she summoned up all of her fledgling powers to somehow try and push them away from its fateful edge. She looked frail and powerless in the face of the violence surrounding her slight girlish form. Her world shimmered and shifted as her efforts began to drain the very fabric of her cohesive whole. She would fail they would all be sucked into the evil where some malevolent entity clearly awaited them all. The edges of her awareness turned a murky shade of grey but still she held on summoning a song of hope from somewhere deep within her psyche. It grounded her, she would hang on.

As abruptly as it had appeared the maw closed and all was silent except for her song which lessened by degrees until it became a gentle refrain running thorough her mind alone.

Maya needed to rest….

Her eyes moved from Enumeal to Carlita bewilderment showing clearly in their depths at their lack of reaction as to what had just taken place. It was an aftershock of sorts that finally elicited a small response.The strong smell of sulfur and the flickering lights which followed the silence were real world manifestations of what has occurred in her own realm and impossible to miss in theirs! Would Enumeal make the connection, Maya assumed that he already had.

The pull was impossible to resist and suddenly Maya found herself slammed down on the dresser of her old bedroom. The air would have been knocked from her lungs had she possessed any, the sudden unexpected pain was a real and concrete and drained the last of her failing energy.

She had felt pure evil! Had the malevolent presence resided in Bishop Gates for all time or had the Demon Emanael awakened it from its very slumber? What gripe did it have with her?

Maya felt afraid...

She needed...

Sleep!

Maya curled around her mother’s music box and the melody still floating in her gentle mind returned strong and pure filling the room with its haunting refrain. As her eyes lovingly traveled around the beloved room which had been her sanctuary from the world at large its cadence changed becoming one of hopelessness and despair.

Her room had become a shrine, even down to the rope from which she had hung herself, it had an air of lonely neglect. Lazy cobwebs hung down from the rafters and clung obscenely to the gently swinging rope…

A huge tear fell from Maya’s china blue eyes.

I can still cry, she thought in wonder as her eyes fluttered closed. The eerie refrain dwindled into nothing as her unsettling dreams once again became her companion in a restless and perhaps prophetic sleep.

The Entrance to Evil

Jerome's office

Penumbra
(Maya's post above)

This side of the Gauntlet

The energy in the air as the essence of one transfers to another, from doctor to patient, is so electric that it's like the air is supercharged with an ozone smell touched by sulfur...

Enumael can feel it's presence. This thing is of the Creator, but has become so alien from it's created purpose that Enumael could not place it. It's powerful beyond reason, and it's awake. Neither of which sounded good to this ancient agent of the Most High God.

The lights flickered several times momentarily as if the power had been touched by the same draw that caused previous electrocution to this poor tortured servant of Gaia.

Enumael sniffed, detecting the distinct hint of sulfur, and then he felt it... Something made of the old familiar building blocks of creation, but it was twisted with an oppressive, alien ego which was never ment to be. Its purpose long forgotten and replaced with madness and an abundance of power. What was god's plan, Enumael had to wonder, in letting something like this not only exist, but run free and unchecked. Ah well, one more mess left behind for him to deal with.

But perhaps more unsettling than the presence of such evil was the dulcet strains of a young woman's voice, singing, so familiar and so achingly beautiful that Enumael felt tears well up in his eyes. He cleared his throat, removed his glasses and drew a tissue to clean them with. He'd heard Jerome's dead daughter, Maya. She sang like an angel... Enumael did his best to keep his composure and hide his tears as he waited for Carlita's answer.

Carlita's hope rose and rose until she was practically crying with joy. How had this happened? Had she proven herself finally? Was this another test? She should be suspicious, but she couldn't help but trust the only person here who could finally let her free. This was one step in the right direction. Carlita didn't care why or how, but this was excellent for her to hear and she hoped that he kept his word.

His words thrummed in her mind. More power than she knew...[/i] Was he speaking about her strength again? Was that some sort of warning? Carlita started to shrink back, but the deal he made sounded like he understood if she 'slipped' and was willing to help. Though she wasn't sure who the hell Enumael was. She nodded and repeated the name getting acquainted with it. "Enumael." Carlita furrowed her brows. "Is Enumael like your nickname or something?" This was news to her. As long as she had been coming to Dr. Jerome he had never mentioned a nickname. Was this a new test of trust? She liked it and smiled a real one. The first one in months.

Carlita opened her mouth to agree, but then .. she smelled something odd. The smell was too strong to her sensitive nose; which she thought she had managed to control. It had taken her a long time to weaken her sense of smell. The drugs helped, but now that her mind is clear she would have to apparently focus on that again. Carlita missed the good doctors eyes watering as she was wondering if she had just smelt him fart. She realized he was looking at her and she blushed. How long had she been silent as he waited for her answer?

"Yes, yes of course. I agree. Do you hear singing?" Carlita turned around as if she could see through the walls. She shook her head. "Nevermind. I agree. May I go now? To the common area?" She was almost giddy with excitement though outwardly she just seemed a tad more open instead of the closed and withdrawn Carlita. Oh! To be ... free. Or as free as she could be.

"It is more than just a nick name to me, Carlita, which is why it is important that you only use it when you are truly in need of my help and please don't reveal it to any of the others." Enumael watched Carlita for a moment in silence. She seemed about to speak, but stopped, sniffing the air. She must have smelled the hint of sulfur as well. He gave Carlita a gracious smile as she blushed under his gaze.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it, Carlita." Enumael paused for a moment, considering weather or not he should admit to having heard the singing. He surmised that if he were to expose Carlita to the wider world of the supernatural that was her birthright there was no better way than to start with something that she, herself had witnessed. "Singing... You heard it too?" He replied, standing. "I.. I thought I had imagined it... It sounded like..." He felt himself, the part of himself that was still Jerome, begin to choke up.

"Ahem, yes, well, never mind." Enumael cleared his throat and offered Carlita his hand. "Mind if I walk with you to the common area? I would like to meet with my next appointment in person, I think, and the common area is along the way after all. If you would be willing to tell me how things have gone around here while I've been away, I would greatly appreciate it."

Rosemarie sat naked and crosslegged on the bed. She was seeing nothing, lost in a dreamy state and enjoying inner peace. In her special place she was in a forest glade and dancing. She REALLY loved dancing, but here, in this more real place, it was better and different. In the bad place she was in now, things were strange and out of place. She spent a lot of time in her special place though and therefore didn't see the strange things.

She screamed. "NO! NO! NO! The cheese is curdled! Blessed is the CURDLED CHEESE!" It needed to be screamed... It was truth and truth is beautiful.

She rose and started to dance around her cell, sinuous and lust driven. Enticing in it's erotic fantasy. Faster and faster she danced. Sweat poured off her naked body, some drops spraying off her and landing who knew where.

She danced free, her gown stuffed in the door's view window to keep IT away. IT was always looking at her. IT hated her dancing and happiness. IT could go to hell.

She also had the mirror in the room covered. IT would look at her through that too, and make her see wrongness, even in her own features...

Carlita could only smile at the doctor's words as her mind was elsewhere. She heard his words; his caution, and she did her best to appear that she would take heed when she really wanted to run from the room and go wherever she wanted. AND WITHOUT GUARDS! Holy Moly!

Carlita looked at his hands and took it. "Okay," was all she was able to get out as she suddenly became afraid. It had been so long. So very long. Could she do this? Carlita squared her shoulders and walked to the door and so slowly out the hallway. The orderlies came towards her, but the words exchanged between them and Dr. Jerome were like flies buzzing in her ear. She missed it, but knew they were talking.

It seemed forever before she was at the entrance to the common area. Carlita just stood there. Transfixed as she glanced out. Freedom. She just had to take that first step. She hesitated.