Absence of Conscience

Indigo Spirit

Really Experienced
Joined
Jan 11, 2003
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100
Darkness walked the streets that night, relishing in the pain and agony he fed off from others hidden behind the walls.He was hungry, irritable as he strode in the cold rain storm, hunting for his next victim to abuse and drain. He had no qualms as to the type of creature he was born as, no doubts as to the type of animal he had become, for to live he fed and to feed he must take from others what they did not want to give. In truth his dark soul enjoyed the screams and pleas for mercy and it gave him great pleasure as they squirmed beneath him. It did not bother him and never would for he had an

Absence of Conscience


OOC: I'm looking for a good female writer to join me in the worst of evil scenarios.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

“Just let it lie, Brid.”

His voice was tinged with exasperation.
The woman stomped to the desk and sat behind it opening the file for the upteenth time.
She looked up at the sympathetic face before her, but the sympathy did nothing but ignite her temper.
Even so, her words were measured and softly spoken.
Bridget Taylor was a woman who was in control of her emotions.

”You know very well I can’t do that, Mike.”

Her colleague sighed in exasperation at her stubbornness, her determination.
It was what made her good, but it also made her infuriating!

”You can’t tell me you buy that Mike?
Come on! Three women dead in as many weeks!
All found in a similar condition? All fully clothed, unmarked?
All dying from alleged natural causes?”


She looked at him earnestly as she made her points.
Then she lost the advantage as she finally gave way to her exasperation.

”You can’t be that naïve surely?”

Her tone was incredulous rather than insulting, but Mike bristled.

”Brid. You know the chief won’t touch it.
Your theories are just so much fantasy…”


She made to interrupt, but he continued.

”OK.. so you’re pretty good at profiling, you’re… intuitive … shall we say in some things … but … you can forget being called in officially on this one.
The department just won’t buy it .. officially or unofficially!”


His tone was dismissive, final.

”I was right about the brain activity…”

Bridget commented quietly.
Mike sighed.

”When you told us to check out the brain there was an indication that there might have been a sensory overload that could have contributed to death.
That is hardly proof. We don’t know about the other fatalities.
We’re hardly going to demand bodies be exhumed on a hunch! ”


It was Brid’s turn to sigh.

”So.. when the next girl comes in and you do the post mortem, you’re just going to note her brain abnormality down as a fact, not even as a contributing factor, much less as an indication of the cause of death?”

Mike had had enough. He turned to walk out of the office.
As he opened the door, Brid called out in a last attempt to make him see reason.

”I’m right Mike! I can sense it! I know it will kill again.
This is much more than anything physical? Provable?”


Mike slammed the door shut and turned to unleash an earnest tirade upon the young woman who stood now behind the desk.

”Talk like that and you’ll be shoved out of here and shipped to the loony bin!
There are many people round here who object to you being called in on cases as it is. You weren’t consulted on this one, so you shouldn’t even have access to those files.
Death by natural causes is the official verdict.
The fact we don’t know what the causes are is … unusual, but it’s not a “case”.
There is no “official” connection.
What or who ever is out there, if there is indeed a perpetrator, is not our problem yet and as such of no concern to you or to me!”


He looked at her, realising he had gone over the top.
He expected an angry retort, but she merely smiled.

”OK Mike … point taken … “

He grinned in relief.
She was quite a woman, strange, challenging, but even so …
Brid picked up her handbag and pulled her coat of the back of the chair.
It was not worth pursuing the subject right now, but she had by no means dismissed it out of mind.

She walked to the door and he opened it, smiling affectionately.

”I’d best get going Mike,”

Brid commented and leaned to press an affectionate kiss on his cheek.
He grinned and she dimpled him a mischievous smile.

”I still think I’m right, though … “

She grinned as she turned to head out of the department.
“… and what’s more, I’ll prove it to you … “ was the thought in her head as she passed the desks ignoring the curious glances of those who had overheard the “discussion” and imagined that the whole episode would come to a very unpleasant climax.

Mike grinned watching her stroll out of the office.
She was quite a woman alright!
Crazy as hell of course … but still …
She turned and waved to him before she finally disappeared.
Mike waved and turned back to his office.

She couldn’t be right, of course.
He looked at the files uneasily.
And if she was, he didn’t want to go looking for cases, hell the workload was bad enough as it was.
Still … it wouldn’t hurt to keep his eyes and ears open, make a few .. discrete enquiries …
 
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In a time beyond accurate recording of history the being now known simply as darkness was a man. A strong and self assured man, a guardian of some sort if his memories were accurate, and a man who knew love and how to care for others. But all of that had changed in the great wars, wars that men fought over differences in opinion, wars that men died in by countless numbers not knowing the outcome of it or it at all they sacrificed themselves for the right reason. He found himself bleeding his lifeblood onto the thirsty soil, a great lance imbedded in the muscles of his stomach, dying slowly and painfully as his vision dimmed.

And then they came. Legend had it they were once men themselves, turned creature by the curse of an evil and powerful being, creatures that fed off the pain, agony and flesh of living victims. He was to become a meal then, he resigned himself as they fed from the moaning and quickly screaming bodies of near dead about him. A meal, but one that would insure they paid the price for his tender flesh, and a dear price at that. A surge of anger brought him to his knees, and then his feet as he drew a sword from another dead mans hand and put it to use.

Blow after deadly blow he gave them, falling to his knees as one attacked him from behind, screaming curses at the thing and the pain it gave him as IT gnawed into his shoulder. The pain was his blessing and curse in one, blessing for it gave him the strength to drive the things away, drive them from him and look for a less expensive meal to pay for. And curse, for as he fell again to what he thought would be his final resting place he did not die.

The next time he opened his eyes it was as if he had imagined the wounds, a nightmare of some sort placed there by the trauma of battle. He stood, looking over the stinking corpses littering the battlefield, trying to separate reality from horror. Trying and failing for as he walked from the blood and gore stained grounds the hunger was already on him, the NEED growing within him in ways he was not to understand until much later.

And as the hunger grew, his humanity shrank, and with each feeding another part of the man was replaced by the beast. And to the humans regret he discovered the beast was immortal and so was the hunger


None of these thoughts passed thru the beasts mind now, for as he held his next victim in his clawed hands he felt only her terror and fear, and that very fear created the link to her inner energy, the thing he craved for in his hunger and drew it to him to consume.

He placed the lifeless body gently in the grassy woodlands, squatting over it for minutes to gaze at her final expression frozen in pain and wondered at it. Fear of what? He fed to abate the hunger and cursed his existence as he did so, clarity of mind returning to him for brief hours after each in which he was aware of WHAT he had become.
 
Bridget ( Brid ) Taylor

Brid threw her bag down as soon as she walked through the door of her apartment.
She strode through flicking on lights until she entered her kitchen.
Fridge door opened, she reached in and pulled out a bottle of wine.
Barely glancing round, she automatically took the corkscrew out of the drawer, pulled the cork in one skilful movement and poured a large glass of wine in to a heavy crystal glass.

She gave a murmur of appreciation as she sipped the refreshing liquid.
Her eyes closed as she momentarily forced herself to relax.
Turning to the slow cooker, she flicked it on and then made her way to the lounge.
Here she did not put on the main light. The switch caused a rosy pool of light from three lamps with matching bases and shades making the room glow cosily as she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.
Sipping the wine, she felt more relaxed, but still the “case” bugged her.
Mike was a great guy, a good cop, but …
She could understand his exasperation.
She respected him enough to let him let off steam and then build bridges afterwards.
They didn’t like to admit that her intervention had led to the successful conclusion of a handful of cases over the past year. The conventional and proveable was the “system’s” way of dealing with things, but Brid just… *knew* somehow that this phenomena was beyond rational explanation.

She excclaimed in irritation, realising that she had drained the glass already.
Impatiently she put it onto her glass coffee table and drew herself up from the soft upholstery.
Moving to the window she stared unseeingly out into the darkness.
She couldn’t see … it … but… it was out there …
A … predator … ? Why did that idea come into her mind?
Those girls were … hunted … victims certainly, yet …
She just couldn’t put her finger on it, yet …
But what could she do?

With a resigned sigh she moved towards the telephone and hit the button that dialled through to Mike’s answering service. She listened to the habitual welcome and instruction to dial another number in case of emergency until finally the bleep sounded indicating it was time for her to leave her message.
Her voice was soft, firm, yet impassioned.

”Hi Mike, it’s Brid.
I just know you’re groaning and I know you don’t want to hear this but …
When you find the next victim, call me as soon as you can.
I need to be on the scene if I’m going to help.
At least make a note of facial expression, eyes, that is if they’re open or shut and their … expression … and where they were last focused if at all.. and really take note of the position of the body, of all the limbs not just where the victim fell or was placed …


Brid paused.

”I wish to God this was just some whim of mine, but … it really is not Mike.
I don’t care how you do it. Just get me on scene as quickly as you can.
You have my number. Any time.
Just don’t call me in on this too far down the road.
Whatever your explanation for this, each death is a woman’s life down the pan.”


Brid bit her lip. Fuck… she hadn’t wanted to make the emotional appeal!
Still.. that was it, she just had to hope that Mike had calmed down sufficiently to be able to face facts, or at least, accept the questions posed.

”Nite Mike. Please. Just consider it.”

She put the phone down, cutting the message off abruptly.

She exhaled slowly, letting out the tension this time.
Ok. She’d done all she could.
All that was left to do now was to wait and be on call.

Picking up her wine glass she flicked on the CD player and walked into the kitchen to get her meal...
 
Trevain

I stumbled along the streets barefoot the thin coat stolen from a garbage can covering my lean frame as I explored the sights and sounds of the great city. I was myself again, for a few short hours perhaps a day I was the man that had died on the battlefield so many centuries ago. Hunger assaulted my nostrils as I smelled the greasy smells of food and then my stomach as I moved thru the allies and was drawn towards an open door, the light shining brightly thru it from inside.

“Hey Mister, Watch It!” The voice cut thru my hunger and drew his attention to a red haired, over painted and under dressed waitress as she dragged the heavy bags of garbage towards the metal container. “What’s the matter somebody mug you?”

“Mug me Miss?” I questioned and moved towards her slowly, the smell of food mixed with her perfume as she stood and eyed me.

You’re not from around here are you? She continued swelling her impressive chest out and looking at my ragged coat. I suppose you’re hungry, they always are all the bums. Tell you what. You dump these into the garbage and the others inside and when I’m done I’ll feed you, sound good?”

“Food sounds good, yes” I replied and lifted the first two bags, the motion opening the coat and revealing my body underneath it, a motion the redhead didn’t miss.

“Anyone ever tell you that you should wear clothes underneath that coat?” She commented, staring with interest until I pulled the two halves together. “Of course it don’t bother me none if you want to walk around naked under that get up. But it probably isn’t too wise to do it on the streets, it’ll get you arrested or worse”

I nodded at her words of advice and lifted the second pair of bags into the container, seeing her eyes watch expectantly and her tongue lick her lips as she wasn’t disappointed when the coat fell open again.

“You’ve got a lot of muscles for a bum, don’t you?” She spoke then motioned me to follow her. “A little soap and water and maybe there’s another way you can work off your meal.”

It was my turn to lick my lips as I followed knowing what she hinted at and it not bothering me at all. A meal in my stomach would be appreciated and the tastes of real food a dream I rarely found came true. And as for the soap and water? If she wanted me clean before we mated I could stand that as well.

”Set yourself down right here and I’ll find you some real food.” She ordered moving into the kitchen area and I obeyed, sitting at a small table obviously used before inside the small room. You look like a man that likes meat and potatoes and you’ll need all the energy you can get for later.

She winked as she brought the steaming plate crowded with food and then swayed away, her head turning over her shoulder to see if I was looking, which I made sure I was.

“The years have advanced but some things never change, eh Trevair?” I quipped to myself and took the silverware in hand she had left, attacking the food that made me drool. “The games between man and woman are eternal”

I would finish eating quickly then see what kind of games she had in mind, I thought, my body stirring to life as I imagined the feel of her beneath me.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

”Ohh.. um.. God! ….. wh-at…”

The insistent dance of the mobile ring pulled Brid into reluctant consciousness.
Automatically, even before her eyes were fully opened she spoke groggily into the phone.

”Brid Taylor, yes..?”

Her bedroom was in darkness. She had not bothered to switch on the side light.

”Brid? You sound like shit. Guess I woke you huh?”

Bridget’s eyes pulled open.

”Mike! … never mind the social niceties, what’s happened?”

At the other end of the line Brid couldn’t see Mike’s silent appreciation of the speed in which she donned on the professional mantle. Just as well he thought to himself. The sound of her groggy voice, imagining her warm beneath the covers had sent his cock throbbing.

”Mike?”

Her insistent voice wrenched him out of his reverie.

”We … have another corpse… same circumstances … no marks, no clear cause of death as yet, but … “

He paused knowing he had to tell her, yet reluctant to.

”It’s … just what you said about the expression, position of the body …”

Brid had already slipped out of bed and was pulling out clothes.

”Ok.. where’s the scene… I’ll be over as quick as I can.”

She heard Mike’s exasperated sigh.

”There’s no scene, Brid, at least not now. It all went down over an hour ago.
The scenes been cleared, the corpse in the morgue.”


Brid threw her sweater down in frustration.

”Oh.. fucking hell! … Mike? … I thought I said … you knew…”

Mike cut her off, but maintained his temper this time, smiling to himself as he heard her explode.

”Brid… shut the fuck up will ya? I heard what ya said.
I couldn’t do anything, my hands were tied, but … “


He paused only momentarily before continuing.

”I got copies of the photos taken at the scene.. just don’t ask me how I got them and DON’T tell them I showed ya.
I could lose my job over this one honey..”


Brid smiled at his words. She knew yet again he had stuck his neck out for her. She sat on the bed, calm once again.

”Mike, you’re wonderful! I’ll love u forever, now … how soon can you get over here and show me what you’ve got?”

Mike only paused momentarily, refusing to reflect on the suggestive connatation of Brid's offer!
Her effusive response, the throw away comments filled his head, but the fact that she wanted him to bring the prints now?
He knew that he wanted to, for the sake of the “case” of course..
He sighed. This was going to be tricky, but what else could he do?

”On my way already…”

Was his business-like response.
The curtness of it masking any emotions that might threaten to get in the way of the "job"!

”Great.. see you soon…”

With that goodbye, Brid rang off.

Another death! She’d known it. Felt it even.
But what was Mike not telling her.
What was it about this victim that had made him call her?
She shivered and got back into the bed.
It wasn’t that she was cold, it was more an awareness of a chill… of something… brewing out there…
She shuddered aware of a finger of fear creeping up her spine.

”Bloody stupid…”

She admonished herself out loud.
She deftly slipped out of bed and went to take out the bottle of whiskey and two glasses and fill the kettle before putting it on to boil.
Activity was the thing to keep her mind occupied until such a time as it was going to be needed.
She hoped Mike would be here soon...
 
Trevain

The waitress who later upstairs introduced herself as Elizabeth had indeed found soap and water. In fact as I showered in her bathroom she proved she had found more than that as she took a picture and the flash responded.

"For my album, love She informed me with a grin "I'll be waiting in the bedroom for you."

Wearing only a towel draped over my shoulder I walked into the room, my long hair dripping on the worn carpet as I eyed her half dressed figure stretched out on the bed before me.

"It's not often I get a chance to bring a young man like yourself to my bed." I heard and grinned at the compliment, wondering what she would say and do if she knew how old I truly was. But instead I answered her as she slid off the bed and to her knees in front of my dripping form.

"Tis not everyday I see a luscious woman such as you dressed as you are either, my precious."

The words made her eyes glow as she looked upwards at me and her lips captured the tip of my already swollen length and began to bob up and down with expertise. Placing my hands on her near bare shoulders I moaned, spreading my legs for support as she tongued me with vigor and obvious enjoyment.

A moan tore thru my throat and escaped over my lips and I knew with horror it was NOT the voice of a normal man, neither was it NOT my own...And as she continued to suckle at me and fondle my length and swollen sac I felt the Beast returning and warned her.

"I'm sorry Miss Elizabeth I MUST be going"

But the apology fell on mute ears as she continued to suck and swallow my length and her arms wrapped around my waist and ass cheeks, claiming me for her own.

Again I tried. "I must LEAVE...NOW" I warned, shuddering as I felt the CHANGE come over me and felt the growing heat of my loins as well, making me weak.

And again she refused silently, gorging herself on my length as I felt the back of her throat taking me in.

There was no third warning to give. The BEAST was within and outside of me at the same time, reaching into her soul and mind, capturing the energies that radiated from her body so freely and consuming them, taking more and More and MORE of her.

Until finally on her own volition she stopped, letting my still erect member slide from her lips and look upward, her lust filled eyes filling with terror as she saw and felt HIM.

And screamed. Screamed until the very end in which she died, untouched but murdered as I drained every ounce of energy from her too easily. Made so easy by the lust she felt and responded to me with, opening the door into her mortal soul, which I fed on with HIS hunger.

Inside of HIM I saw us fleeing, the Polaroid picture laying on the coffee stand beside her as we ran nude from the house, leaping over a drunk in the alley with great bounds of our hair covered legs and fled laughing into the night.
 
Bridget ( Brid ) Taylor

Brid grabbed a robe and ran to answer the door of her apartment.
As he pulled the door open, she stood tying the knot at her waist.

”Mike, come in. There’s a jar of cookies in the lounge, I’ll get the coffee…”

So saying she retraced her steps disappearing back into the kitchen.
Mike stood and shook himself with effort. The robe that was tied to cover her all-too-revealing silk nightdress was no towelling cover-all affair. The silk kimono might have formed a barrier between his eyes and her skin, but it clung suggestively to her curves. Shutting the door she glanced at his watch – 01:45! It had been a long night and he knew he had to concentrate on the “case” in hand.

Letting himself drop onto her couch, he turned instinctively as she came in bearing a tray. Pouring two large mugs, she moved to sit beside him. She pushed a hand impatiently through her tousseled hair, but other than that seemed blissfully unaware of her appearance.

”So… what ya got for me?”

She enquired, eyes sparkling.
Mike pulled out a buff envelope of photographs and handed them to her.

”Taken at the scene. Again no links Brid, so don’t get excited.
Different location, yet again. There seems no pattern in that.
And again no marks or obvious cause of death.”


Brid took a sip of her coffee and looked at Mike steadily.

”So .. why the photos? What’s different… I know it wasn’t this afternoon that changed your mind, you’re more methodical than that.”

Mike nodded accepting the compliment. He was methodical, to the point of being unemotional sometimes. He leaned forward and pulled out a handful of photos. Brid stared at them.

”Geeeze… “

The face was filled with terror, the head positioned at an unnatural angle, yet ..

”No neck abrasions, breaks?”

Mike shook his head.

”Nothing unusual … a few scratches, tiny. We only found them ‘cos we looked. The girl could have done them herself, or coarse fabric, or an abrasive necklace, or an amorous boyfriend .. “

Brid nodded, used to his black humour.

”And … the other girls..?”

Mike flicked open a pad.

”First two, the information wasn’t recorded.”

He met Brid’s incredulous glare.

”No reason to, Brid,”

She nodded acknowledging the truth of his words and he continued.

”Victim three, I attended the scene.
Her eyes were closed when I got there, but … that may have happened after death …”


She looked at him questioningly.

”In cases of natural causes there’s no reason not to close the eyelids … out of respect, an impulse to be humane… I dunno … “

She nodded pensively.

”This time I was there at discovery.
The body definitely hadn’t been repositioned or tampered with and … that’s what you see … “


Brid laid out three of the shots on the coffee table and sipped carefully.
Her eyes moved to Mike.

”… and…?”

He met her eyes and echoed her query.

” … and …?”

She merely nodded, keeping her gaze on his.
He sighed in frustration. The woman was just too perceptive.

”… and… Geeze … Bridget … I … don’t like it… I don’t buy into that coincidence theory … I think .. something … is going on, but I haven’t any idea what!”

Brid merely nodded and put down her mug.
No, “I told you so”, no smug satisfaction about winning.
This wasn’t about who was right.
It was about finding out what was wrong.

”Whatever it is … I … don’t like it … something just doesn’t feel… “

The jangling discords of Mike’s phone interrupted her.
With barely an apologetic shrug, he grabbed the handset.

”Mike here …. Yes… yes… Fucking hell… where? …..
when was she found …? …. Time of death …? ….
any clear evidence of cause of death?
Ok… right … we’ll be right over… yes … we….
I’ll explain later, just …
Don’t let anyone near and don’t touch anything… anything do you hear?
Clear the room, the building, the street!
Ok… just do what you have to … bye..”


He turned to Brid.

”Another body?”

He nodded.

”Yeah waitress, semi-naked, but she was in her bedroom this time, so …
I think we should get going…”


Brid nodded. Mike had assumed rightly she would want to be in on the crime scene this time. She ran to the bedroom and threw off her robe and nightdress. It was gone 2 am by now. She pulled on jeans, socks, shirt and sweater and ran a brush randomly through her hair. Within five minutes she was ready to go. She grabbed her handbag and jacket.

”Ok… let’s get going..”

The two hastened out of the apartment, leaving the photos discarded on the sofa and coffee table. It was going to be a long night.
 
The Beast

The beast ran and I captured inside him ran with. As usual he sought the trees, the forest and water, it being a magical place for him and safety. But something had changed as I watched thru his eyes, not interfering as past times had taught us both was best, but feeling as he moved in great leaps that covered thirty feet in each. Not just one thing but several I decided as I thought about it with half my mind and felt his own earthly intuition with the other. The beast moved into the city this time, attracted by the smells of the rotten streets, the sounds that came from behind thin walls and the raw emotions that washed over and into us. A park we entered in one single move over the gate, large, dark and filled with others who were sleeping, hiding inside the rags they used to fend off the chill of the night.

Swinging himself into a tree he crouched, eyes closing quickly and peace returning to his enraged mind, and then I began to understand what was different. It was the woman and what she had done to me, or attempted to do, the lust she felt attracting her to me and how she returned it with her mouth on my willing length. It had brought a HUMAN response out that for too long had been secreted away and with it a weakness I had felt within the beast. Felt it knowing the basic link between us was primeval, one of base needs and emotions, letting us agree on the lust to survive and act on it together all these centuries.

I opened my eyes and was surprised. Surprised the beast had given up so soon; let me return unselfishly to reality and not just as a passenger inside his great body. The night was about me and I sat upon his chosen perch, thinking of the ramifications the woman had introduced and what it meant to US. Long ago I had accepted what I had been turned into against my will, the want and need to survive twisting my reason to accept what I did to live, and allowing me to exist within the beast. But now? His hunger abated twice in less than a day and the sensations of the woman still singing in my mind I was in control and unlike before the beast was content, allowing me to exert my will and do as I pleased in human form.

Naked I swung from the limb and landed easily on my toes, another inherited talent from the beast, my body had become so much more adept, flexible and able to move as it had never before. But this time I didn’t feel the approaching attackers until they were near me and I smelled them, the rancidness of their clothes and cheap wine washing over my nostrils and making then wrinkle in disgust.

“Look at the pretty boy all proud and in the buff” the leader of the three sneered to the others. Guess we can’t roll him cause he obviously has nothing on him except his family jewels

The caustic comment brought giggles from his already too drunk companions and a squeaky question from the smellier of the two.

“What good are his jewels to us, Dago?” He whined not understanding as he toyed with a knife he had pulled from his pocket. “Unless we cut them off and eat them?”

All three giggled and the look in the eyes of the leader told me they didn’t care what they did as long as it was bloody and painful for me. It was going to be a huge surprise for them and their last.

“Gentlemen I suggest you turn around and leave me be.” I suggested quietly, moving into the circle they had formed. Letting the beasts senses expand around me and knowing which one would strike first. The eager and smelly one came at my back first and I stepped aside, taking his knife from his grubby hands and slitting his throat as he continued past me, then dropping it to the ground. Turning I raised my hands and pinned the leaders above his head, the pipe he was swinging falling from his crushed fingers as he stared into my eyes and kicked at me.

“Who the hell are you?” He screamed over tear filled eyes as I continued to bend his arms back at an impossible angle and hearing them begin to crack.

“You should worry more about WHAT I am” I replied feeling his terror and pain, and understanding what the Best enjoyed so much. Both arms snapped and his eyes rolled, my hands going to his head and twisting it violently away from me.

“But it is too late now, isn’t it?” I taunted stepping over his corpse and looking at the back of the already fleeing third man. I let him go, wanting to find another place to sit unbothered and think about the changes that were occurring. Running easily I found a pond of water and ignored the signs about it, sliding under the cool surface and washing off the stink of the men I had disposed of and their blood.

I would need to leave soon, I knew as I stood beside the pool and looked down at my own reflection, my face clear in the light coming from the post. Leave the park and find clothing and a place where I could dwell, then follow the instincts that warned me I was being hunted. Brown eyes flecked with green returned the stare thru my black hair and I rubbed my chin, thinking for the first time in ages I would like to remove the facial hair and see the dark skin underneath. See it and know if there were any human left underneath or was it all…beast?
 
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Bridget (Brid) Taylor

Brid followed Mike into the street, ducking beyond the ropes, which protected the scene. She stood and looked up at the building. A back street restaurant. Trash cans outside. A seedy rundown place from the outside, but on stepping over the threshold, Brid discovered that the place was warm and friendly, serving substantial, no-frills meals. She walked up the stairs, still lagging behind Mike, taking in the atmosphere.

What was it that had made her so judgemental about the place at the outset, she queried. There was something … something that just felt …

”Brid” Here!”

She sighed in irritation as he cut into her thoughts and the sensation eluded her yet again.
He was a great cop, but didn’t buy the intuition part of the investigation at all!

Moving to the voice she stood in the doorway, reluctant to step over the threshold before she had taken in the whole room. Mike glanced over and reeled out the facts, reading from the pad of a junior officer who hovered at his elbow.

”She was semi-clad, as you see. No clothes discarded, all laid away, which suggests the change was deliberate. No clothing torn or soiled, no evidence of intercourse, but someone was here and someone took a shower shortly before the death and we have a calling card … “

He grinned and caught Brid’s eye.

” .. calling card…?”

A photograph of a guy in the shower, not totally distinct, but it will give us enough information to start on. He put out his hand to retrieve the picture from the bed.

”Don’t!”

Brid’s voice rung out as she finally stepped forward.

Mike pulled his hand back without comment and watched as she questioned the young police officer.

”Did you pick up this photograph? Have any of your colleagues picked this picture up?”

He hesitated, looking over to Mike who nodded.

”Well. Yeah.. sure… about three of us must have touched that .. with gloves though… just to lift and record, for evidence ma’am,”

He informed her respectfully, unaware how conversant she was with police procedure. Mike quirked a smile, but Brid kept a straight face.

”Thank you officer, that has been very helpful.
Perhaps you’d like to go now…”


Again the young man threw a look at Mike who nodded and reassured he quietly made his exit.

”You too Mike. I need to be alone here, just for five minutes or so..”

Mike sighed.

”Brid… you know… “

She turned to look at him, stating patiently.

”Just go and check out the shower or something will ya, just be sure you don’t start nattering on or calling out to me. I need to concentrate.”

Mike merely shrugged. This was part of Brid he found … problematic… the logic of her findings he could deal with but all this sixth sense nonsense…
He left the room, taking his negative vibes with him, he thought to himself somewhat disgruntled.

Brid moved forward into the room. She breathed deeply and tried to empty her mind.
She focused on the body. The woman’s look of open-eyed horror shocked her. The raw emotion on her face seemed to shout out. The expression was in stark contrast to the provocative lingerie, make up and well groomed, but mussed up hair.
Brid noticed her lipstick was smudged. Had she kissed her attacker, had she .. ?
To her mind, the room had all the signs of a cosy liason.
How far had it gone?
Was this a disgruntled lover? But no.
The expression on her face, the uncanny angle of the neck, the lack of marks or evidence of what caused death.
It was all the same as the previous victims.

Gingerly Brid stepped forward and sat on the bed beside where the photograph lay.
She looked at it carefully. A naked torso, muscular, very well formed.
The skin looked dark, but she could not tell if that was due to the angle of the flash making shadows where there were none.
His back, buttocks, legs were all partly visible. His head was indistinct.
Whether it was the shower spray or not, Brid could not tell, but it looked as if he had long hair, facial hair?
Perhaps the darkness of his skin was due to body hair.
Some men were rugged and hairy, she concluded.
Perhaps that was his type?
Although it posed questions, one thing was that the man who had been with the girl before her death was not the office, indoors type.
He was tall, muscular and strong … so if he’d wanted to kill why hadn’t he…?

She shook her head, all questions, no answers … as yet…
How was he linked to the other girls…?
Why with this girl had he been naked and…

Brid shivered suddenly.
It felt as if the air had suddenly gone chill.
She stood and looked over at the girl again, concentrating on the face.
Without knowing that she did it, Brid picked up the photograph in her hand and closed her fingers around it, her forefinger touching the image of the naked man.
Somehow she could sense horror.
She felt it as if it were actually a tangible presence in the room.
She closed her eyes to blot out the face and breathed deeply.

Yet it was not the girl’s horror she felt.

Misery, confusion, conflict … raw emotion …
They flooded her senses.
It felt as if she were tuning in to .. .something… but it was being scrambled.. .like picking up three radio stations all at once, the noise unintelligible.

”Brid!”

She opened her eyes, and saw Mike’s concerned face.
It was almost as white as she was.

”Fucking hell… don’t you dare go into a trance on me!
You know all that mumbo jumbo makes me nervous!”


Brid looked at him dazedly.

”Trance..?”

She questioned numbly.

”Yeah … and I see you contaminated our evidence already.. “

He snapped, relief making him abrupt.

Again Brid looked at her hand, as if looking at something totally detached from her reasoning. Suddenly becoming aware of what she was holding, she gasped and dropped the photograph as if it burned her.

”Brid.. for… “

Mike began to admonish her, but seeing her sway, moved to catch her and guide her out of the room and onto the narrow landing, standing her by an open side window.
Much to his dismay, she let her head fall forward onto his chest as she took a steadying breath.
She had attended gory crime scenes at times and had a pretty good stomach for all the detail of these type of cases. What was it that had made her react so strangely?
If it wasn’t something …. physical … maybe he didn’t want to know…
The young officer approached, but he waved him away and back into the room of the crime scene.

”Brid? You feeling better honey?”

Mike questioned carefully.

”Ohh. Um. Yes.. sure… “

He smiled in relief, eager to believe her.

”You want to check out the shower room with me babe?”

He grinned, keeping it light.

”No … I think I know enough for now .. “

He frowned at her cryptic answer and followed her downstairs and out into the back street once more.

”I’ll drive you home, get some rest. We can pick this thing up again later on in the day.”

He expected a protest, but she merely nodded and thanked him.
Sitting quietly, seemingly lost in thought, Mike drove swiftly through the deserted streets.
It was almost 4 pm by the time they reached her apartment door.

”Nite Mike.. “

He frowned.

”Brid.. you gonna be OK? You … look kinda strange.. “

She touched him lightly on the arm.

”I’m fine… I’ll see you between 9 and 10 am … and if I’m not there, feel free to come round and rouse me from my slumbers.. “

She kissed him on the cheek and slipped inside, firmly locking the door behind her.
Mike stared after her.
He didn’t know what had happened in that room, but he didn’t like it.
 
Trevain

Morning brought several changes to me with its dawn. I found myself still in human form and secluded in an abandoned warehouse. For the first time in a hundred years I wore a complete set of clothes donated by half of a loving couple on the fringes of the woods. And I was positive that there was someone within the city limits who was aware of me.

I could feel the beast, dormant and not fighting my will, the sudden reversal of roles giving me an almost giddy sensation in the pit of my stomach. I needed time to think. Think and feel what was happening, why the sudden change and why the touch of one eager woman had done it to me, held the beast at bay for so long.

And I would begin my own search for the one that I could feel, the single one that could reveal my presence and destroy the growing hope within me. I was sure that there were no others like me on this world, positive for I had spent the first hundred years of my life searching for them and finding to my chagrin I was indeed unique. So it meant I felt the presence of someone whom I didn’t know or understand and that they didn’t understand me as well. They could be a threat and be hunting to kill or capture me. And I wouldn't allow that.

"We will meet, my friend, and see who has the greatest beast,” I promised aloud, plans forming in my mind.
 
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Bridget ( Brid ) Taylor

Brid was exhausted.
She pulled off her clothes, donned her nightshirt and dropped into bed, closing her eyes wearily.
She felt drained. Drained and troubled.
She refused to focus on what had actually happened back there.
She had felt a … connection …
The sensation had been similar to the psychic phenomena she had experienced, only a few times before … and yet … this was still different.

Turning over restlessly she thumped her pillow and settled down to sleep…

The dream when it came was disjointed, yet no less alarming…
Images played like a jumping newsreel in her mind..
Her body responded as in her dreams she ran in a desperate attempt to get away … to get away from …

Again the images shifted.
Blood, the stench of blood, everywhere, running, soaking …
She pressed her eyes shut, but yet … still there it was …

And then she sensed… something was approaching her … it was as if she were being hunted … hunted by someone, something… she could feel it’s breath on her neck … the brush of hair, or skin as it neared.
She tensed, waiting for the inevitable attack…


AAAAAAAAAHHHhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Her scream echoed around the room as Brid woke, her mind filled with terror, but the images receding quickly into nothingness. She pulled herself upright in bed and trembled.
Fucking hell, what had all that been about?
Something had totally spooked her for sure!
She couldn’t shake the emotions of the dream and yet … the illusive images were already fading…

Trying to pull herself together, she looked over at the clock.

09:30!!

God she was late!
She catapulted herself out of bed and into the shower trying to cleanse herself of the nights fitful slumber.
She was only just dressed and sat in her lounge, a large steaming mug of coffee wrapped in her hands when Mike arrived, impatiently ringing the door bell.
She moved quickly to open it.
As he heard the bolts drawn back, Mike prepared to launch into a monologue about time keeping and how she couldn’t handle the hours, but took one look at Brid’s face and immediately changed his mind.

”Christ. You look like shit.”

Brid shrugged.

”.. and a good morning to you too Mike. Come on in. I’ll get coffee.”

He moved unrepentantly through the door, waving a sweet smelling bag beneath her nose.

”Great! I brought breakfast!”

So saying he moved briskly towards the lounge.

”.. and we need to talk … “
 
Trevain

The day had become a jumble of lessons and confusion. I had learned as the Beast had consumed each of it's victims, memories, emotions, language and the current inflections...I had also the basics of custom and the slang used on the "street". But what became quickly evident was the lesson of money and how it made almost everything revolve around it and paved the way to information.

For that is what I needed. Information on how the occupants of the city looked at what was happening about them, how they reacted to it as individuals and as groups and within those groups who had the power to feel my presence.

And to get that knowledge I needed money. It perplexed me for a few hours as I watched the thieves and shills move among the innocent, robbing them with and without their knowledge on the streets, pulling a wallet or a knife and not caring what method they used to gain others riches.

I followed suit. I drew the attention of several thieves who had bagged several other innocent peoples purses and wallets, then stumbled into an alley in a pantomime of a helpless and drunk victim to be, the pack of greedy and grinning men following.

It worked. I drew the purses and wallets from hidden pockets of the now dead thieves and then pulled the paper and coin from each, placing it the pocket of the long coat I wore. A second time I used the same tactics with equal success and drew an even greater amount of money from the four that had followed me again.

And with that money I found answers, who enforced the laws, who helped them and what kind of modern day human could sense another and in turn be sensed. Promises of more money brought me guarantees of names and the discovery of how the modern world communicated.

I had much to learn it suddenly came to me. I found myself in a world different from what I had existed in as the Beast, a place filled with brick and iron, and one that could easily trap me if I weren't careful.

I would learn and gather my information, drawing us closer as I felt the thoughts of the one who sensed me and in turn, invade their own. Hour by hour I grew closer in finding them and knew in turn they would soon find me. The pile of bodies grew around me and I laughed, knowing I had left no clues they would yet understand and once found any they would believe. The bodies didn't concern me for most were the dredges of humanity and would hardly be missed, what intrigued me was the growing sense and touch of the one I searched for.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

Brid sat on the bench and sighed heavily.
The morning had been … torturous.
She ran her fingers over her temples and scowled.
Where had that word come from? “torturous” .. so dramatic so …

She pulled a jacket about her and looked around the lawned expanse before her, criss-crossed by deserted pathways. People were reluctant to venture out when it was so cold, but now …
The last 24 hours had been manic.
“Carnage” the local newspapers reported it as.
“An inexplicable crime wave…” was the more wary comment from the police department.
Brid had watched, taken it all in and kept quiet.
Kept quiet about the instinct that all this was tied to one … man … one … being.
She sat in the still isolation of the gardens and closed her eyes.
She reached out, searching, tentatively trying to make the connection.
Part of her knew she was foolish.
It screamed for her to stop.
She should tell what she knew, felt, suspected and keep well out of it.
But no … it was almost as if the emotions were taking her over.
She needed to reach out … to connect …

”Brid!”

She jumped violently and then glared, feeling as if she had been wrenched back unceremoniously, just when …

”You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Mike sat beside her. She looked away.

”Lack of sleep, god damn awful headache … next question … “

She responded wearily.

”Bullshit!”

She looked at him and looked away.

”Bridget … honey … “

She pulled away from the arm that he wound round her.

”I’m fine.. just leave it … “

She snapped and strode off blindly along one of the pathways.
Mike hesitated watching her go and trying to decide whether to follow her or not.
Something was going on.
He didn’t believe in all that psychic crap, but he’d never seen Brid like this.
Too quiet, too agitated, too … tense …

Her head down, Brid did not know where it was she was heading.
Inside her head she cursed her bad temper, she knew it was foolish to just go with that voice that seemed to draw her and yet … she had just effectively told her closest friend to go to hell …

Not a good day at all …
 
Trevain

Information flowed like water down a raging river to me. How the law enforcement system worked, who controlled it, what the local officers would and would not react to...

Endless hours I spent listening to each drunk, drug addict and hustler that met me and deluged me with nearly worthless information. And as usual the greatest words of knowledge came from the mouth of a child, or nearly one.

The young girl was nineteen and had lived on the streets for four years, a prostitute that moved from her current john's apartment to rented hotel room to car, and was quite forward and honest about it all.

"So want to know what?" She asked brushing her blond hair back and smacking her gum.

"I want to know who is looking for me and if possible meet her" I answered carefully as I stood on the street and looked at her short, short skirt and low cut blouse.

"And you figure this person is part of the local "fuzz"? She continued, pushing a huge pink bubble out between her lips and then drawing it back in.

"My instincts tell me so yes, but so far I have been unable to locate her or talk to her"

"Then why don't you go down to the precinct and ask for them?" She asked, her eyes level and studying me.

"That might lead to other difficulties, ones I wish to avoid at present"

"Then send someone down there that has no difficulties at present." She solved the problem, clicking her nails and looking at them.

"And how much would that someone require for this service?" I inquired, a smirk on my own lips as I began to realize in several hundred years one thing I would never understand was the female mind.

The five foot blond stated a figure and I agreed with a message, a condition and a warning.

"Tell this person I wish to meet them and discuss the rash of unexplained deaths in this neighborhood and why the last womans death was different then the rest" I began repeating it and making sure she understood.

"I will pay you half now and the rest after I have made contact with them, and as a bonus another sum equal to what we agreed upon." It was my turn to study her face and see the greed that passed over it, knowing one vice men and women shared.

"But remember if you decide to make another deal with this person or anyone else concerning the whereabouts of myself it will be YOU who pays, and pays dearly." I finished with my warning and handed her the money, placing the image of her twisted and bloody body into her mind and watching her eyes grow wide as her face paled underneath the heavy makeup she wore.

We parted, the warning and the place I would wait for her both fresh in her mind, along with her promise I would find out who was looking for me within two days.

I would wait in the park beside the water in the closest thing to my "element" I could find, patiently wait and look forward to solving the "itch" in my mind as to who could feel me and how.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

Brid spread the file of photographs and notes across the coffee table.
The images danced before her eyes, the facts moved and shifted on the paper.
She closed her eyes unable to concentrate.
The last death… the girl hadn’t had sex with her killer, yet everything pointed to a romantic tryst.
That didn’t fit at all.
Brid picked up the sheath of papers and flicked through them.
Deaths in the park, casual deaths, all perpetrated by someone with great strength, almost animalistic ferocity.
Only the women were killed without mark, without any indication of cause of death.
She sighed impatiently.
Still way too early for the results from the coroner re: the latest victim.

Brid sipped the inevitable coffee.
The deaths were not yet a “case”.
Officially “connections were being investigated”.
Neither was she involved: officially or unofficially.
Mike had argued that the police department needed all the help they could get, but his comments had fallen on death ears.
There were just too many deaths to investigate right now without creating work.

Brid shuffled through the pile of papers and tidied them before lifting them to drop back between the two sides of the manilla cover.
She pushed it aside and noticed a plain envelope with a post-it note stuck to the side.

”Message for Ms Taylor: 11 am. “

Brid tore open the envelope and stared at the scrawled script.

Guy wants to meet you to talk about the women’s deaths.
He’ll tell you about the last girl and what was different.
He’ll contact you.


Brid frowned.
Where had that come from?
She picked up the phone and dialled …


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl stood before Trevain and told him what he needed to know.

”The cops say it’s not a “case” yet … a series of as yet unconnected murders.
They wouldn’t say who was working on the case.
It wasn’t until I was leaving that this young cop comes up and says he’s overheard me asking about a woman officer involved in the investigation.
“That’s not cop,” He tells me.
“She’s some psychic voodoo lady.
Only reason she gets in here is cos the boss is sweet on her.”


Sensing Trevain’s impatience she continued hastily.

Her name’s Taylor. Bridget Taylor.
I left her a note telling her you wanted to talk and that you'd contact her.”


The girl looked up expectantly, hoping she’d done good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Yeah… some girl came in asking questions, asking what woman was helping to investigate the recent deaths.
She didn’t ask for you by name and I didn’t give her any further information.
She’d disappeared before I could challenge her.
It was all pretty weird… “


Mike didn’t know anything about the girl or the message.
So strange...

Looking at the paper, Brid shivered.
A guy wanted to contact her..?
He knew about the murders?
There was only one way he could know that the last murder had been different…
God… !
She debated telling Mike all about the contents of the note, but decided not to.
She knew he’d freak if he knew the “killer” was contacting her!

Maybe when or if he contacted her, then she'd review her options.
 
Trevain

"Take your clothes off and come over here" I replied to the petite blond "Show me what you're so proud of."

It was an order and a request out of curiosity. It had been the longest I had lived without the beasts control and yet I could feel him inside me, hovering as if he were ready to extend his control over me again.

"How would you know what I'm proud of and what makes you think I'd show it off to you?" The streetwise blond replied her eyes looking into mine.

"There are many things I can sense, Anne" I stated calmly letting the beasts aura wrap around her and smiling as the effect came quickly. "Why waste time lying to each other about what we both want?"

Her eyes widened again at the knowledge I possessed of her real name and not the pseudonym she used on the street and as well our mutual desires. Then a shrug.

"I used to get five hundred dollars for this but seeing as how we're partners?"

An erotic shrug and a few writhing motions and she slid from the skintight dress, her ass wiggling erotically as she crouched and crawled towards me.

"Is this what you want, tiger?" She taunted her hands at my waist, tugging at the button and zipper with an eagerness I knew even surprised her.

"Perfectly" I complimented holding my breath as i felt her hands, then her lips on my swelling length and moaned in pleasure.

And then HE came. With a suddenness that startled me and jolted me from the false belief that I had been in control. I could feel Anne's lips sliding along my shaft and then hear her startled choke as the beast seized her mind along with my body. She fell from me to the floor, kicking and screaming as she died, her energies ripped from her in seconds as her eyes pleaded for mercy.

But none was given as he drew the last trickle of life and energy from her and we towered over her, bristling with the combined power of her and ourselves.

And then as before I felt the almost orgasmic release pass and the blissful sense of contentment follow.

I moved to the makeshift desk I had set up, using its surface to support me and found myself looking down at the phone I had learned to use in the short time I was free. Lifting it I knew what I needed to do, who I had to contact before the beast returned and what I needed to say.

"Connect me to the home of Bridget Taylor" I spoke into the plastic as a pleasant voice offered assistance.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

Brid sat watching TV the takeaway on her lap.
The papers were tucked away in a brief case.
She didn't want to think about it all tonight.
Mike had offered to call round, to go over the notes again, but she'd put him off telling him she'd be in the office early the next day.
He hadn't commented, but she could tell he'd been concerned.
She smiled.
That guy was becoming a real mother hen these days!

Finishing the food, she wrapped the cartons and put them in the bin.
Returning to her lounge, she poured yet another large glass of crisp dry white wine.
She paused and frowned.
Putting her fingers to her temples, Brid tried to stop the wave of dizziness that had filled her head.
If she hadn't known better she'd have assumed that she was drunk... but no ... it was a different sensation...
God no... she hoped it didn't mean what she thought it meant....

She drained her glass greedily, finding solace in the cold soothing balm of alcohol as its ran down her throat.
She wished she could switch it off.
She really did not want to be involved this time.

The telephone ringing made her jump.
She reached out a hand to pick it up wondering if Mike had found a body already, then realised that if the murder had only just taken place it was unlikely.
Her hand hovered over the receiver.
If it wasn't Mike calling then...
For some reason unknown to her, Brid flicked on the answer machine and sat listening whilst it picked up the call.

"You've reached the home of Bridget Taylor.
I can't come to the 'phone right now, but if you'll leave your name, number and a brief message, I'll get back to you ....
Thank you for calling, please speak after the tone.... <<beeep>>"


Brid held her breath.
 
Trevain

I found myself listening to a voice that wasn't alive. A recording that told me to leave a message.

Yet I felt her presence intensify in my own mind and could almost hear her gasp as I became aware of her.

"You hide behind this machine and yet I am aware you are there." I began, closing my eyes and trying to picture the woman Anne had told me was the one.

"The sooner you meet with me the less we both have to fear. And the less people die before your curiousity becomes satisfied."

The air was filled with static electricity around me as I felt her, could almost touch her aura with my own as the seconds passed and the eery quiet invaded the connection. And then the connection of our minds was broken before it was fully made with a rush of emptiness following it to stand beside the quiet.

I had nothing else to say, knowing I wouldn't give any information that might lead others to me, and with the connection lost not knowing if she would reply.

"Do not condemn what you fear Bridget Taylor, rather try to understand it before the fear claims you"
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

"You hide behind this machine and yet I am aware you are there."

Brid stood by the machine as if frozen.
She could feel him reaching out to her, feel his power, feel him searching.

"The sooner you meet with me the less we both have to fear.
And the less people die before your curiosity becomes satisfied."


Brid gasped.
The voice implied that her unwillingness to speak to him, the fact that she shied away from making the connection mentally was causing the deaths she was reading about.
Guilt filled her, but was quickly suppressed.
He was the killer.
He chose to kill.
He could not play that game with her.
With great effort, Brid closed her mind and pulled away from the link he had been trying to make with her.

Still the machine blinked.
The line was still open, but the silence was deathly.

"Do not condemn what you fear Bridget Taylor,
rather try to understand it before the fear claims you"


Bridget had felt that there were a reason for the killings, sensed a terror that the perpetrator was living though, yet such murder could not be condoned.
Brid held out her hand to pick up the receiver.
Her hand shook.

What was it she feared?
The threat here was not physical, but emotional, spiritual … another plane altogether.
Somehow she knew the risk would be far greater if she allowed this person to get into her mind.
Did she seek to understand it?
It was she who had tried to reach out initially, tried to make sense of the raw emotion she sensed and yet …

The more real it became, the more it scared her …
Perhaps understanding was the antidote to that fear?
Was she in too deep to just walk away from it all now?
 
Trevain

I couldn't feel her. Had she left not caring what I had to say, or perhaps not beleiving in what I claimed?

"There has been another death. She will be found on the streets where she lived, tell your friends not to bother looking for traces of who killed her for there will be none, and remind them after Anne there will be more"

It sounded like a threat to my ears as I spoke it, but to me sadly it was a promise of what was to come, for I could feel the beast within me laughing and now knew what he sought.

"I can not control him much longer Miss Taylor"

Anger crept into me as I felt the beast laughing loudly from inside me and I held the tiny phone in my hand, feeling the plastic crack and bite into my flesh, then watching it fall to the floor, the connection still made.

The beast had hid it's intelligence well. Over the decades I had assumed he was the emotion and I was the intelligence of the unwanted partnership, that I consumed the knowledge his victims possessed as he did the energy. But I was fooling myself and now he laughed at me, knowing I understood what his intent had been all along.

"You think you will be able to take both forms at will, use yours or mine as it pleases you and move about this world without fear of recognition" I spoke out loud, the words damning me as I heard his own insane laughter in return, and deep from inside me I felt him seize the muscles in my throat and force the unwanted and gravelly word from them.

"Yesssssss"

And then the laughter came for real, harsh and biting as I fell to my knees, and felt my own throat contract as the sounds rang loud and true.

"You Foooooollllll, I will have your new found freind as wellllll"

And then he receded and it was my own voice again denying his wishes as I reached for the phone and broke the connection.

"Noooooooooooooo"
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

"There has been another death. She will be found on the streets where she lived, tell your friends not to bother looking for traces of who killed her for there will be none, and remind them after Anne there will be more"

Brid stood transfixed as she listened to the voice.
The metallic tones echoed through the machine as the tape whirred and recorded.

"I can not control him much longer Miss Taylor."

Brid drew nearer.
She had heard another voice, another tone, something altogether different.
The voice appealed to her.
Could not control him? Control who?
From the beginning she had had a sense that the murderer was a victim, but how could that be?

Even as she reached to pick up the receiver, the line seemed to break.
Brid snatched the hand piece up and held it against her ear.
She could hear crackles and indistinct voices.
A male voice, indistinct and deep.
She strained unsuccessfully to hear the words.
All that filled her ears was harsh laughter.

"You Foooooollllll, I will have your new found friend as wellllll"

Brid heard the threatening echo of that strange voice and then the line went dead.

Replacing the telephone, Brid rewound the tape and listened once more.

"There has been another death. She will be found on the streets where she lived, tell your friends not to bother looking for traces of who killed her for there will be none, and remind them after Anne there will be more...

...................………………

I can not control him much longer Miss Taylor”

(then the laughter)

"You Foooooollllll, I will have your new found friend as wellllll"


Brid shivered.
It was as if there were two men on that tape, both in conflict, warring against each other.
This man was the killer and yet, she felt that he needed help.
But was she strong enough to speak to him if he called her again?
 
It was a trap. I knew it as the beast took over and I watched myself carry the limp and unbreathing form out of the warehouse and to the streets she had once lived on. Moving quickly and taking advantage of the falling darkness we moved in a straight line towards the park, covering several miles before he dropped her body in the gutter and I felt my own stomach rebel at his nonchalance.

"Go back!" I heard the words escape thru my own gritted teeth with surprise, the anger I felt breaking thru his control, and demanding her do the proper thing. "You CAN'T leave her like that"

For a second we stood locked in battle, our body held motionless and quivering as I pushed and he tried to resist.

"Gooooo Back!!!" I demanded and felt him relent suddenly and my own control return. Return long enough so I could retrace our footsteps and lift the small figure, carry her to a clearing where a building had been leveled and trucked away and place her gently on the fresh earth.

"I am sorry" I apologized to the peaceful face of the woman and smoothed her hair back, brushing the grime from her pale skin as I brought her arms forward and crossed them over her abdomen. "I wish I could do more"

And then I turned and once more fell into the path HE had originally set out for my muscles carrying me easily as I headed for the park and our destiny.

Beside the now familiar and calming waters I rested, my mind reaching out to find that of a womans who I hoped to call an allie in my lone battle. I would hold the beast at bay inside of me, I was sure of that now, knowing my own anger was a match for his control and how to draw upon it when and if the time came.

Thru my eyes I saw my hand in the water and as I raised my head a small sign came into veiw, mutely announcing I was kneeling at the edge of

"Diamond Pond" .

Concentrating I pushed those visions in the direction of the woman named Bridget Taylor, imploring her to come to me, and feeling her mind stiiring under the gentle whispering touch of my own.
 
Bridget (Brid) Taylor

Brid cleared the takeaway packages and put away the wine bottle.
She sat and looked at the phone, as if waiting for it to ring.
She put her hand out to play the message once more, but drew it back.
She did not need to press the button; she knew the words and the voices by heart. She could hear and … feel them somehow.
She looked at the clock.
It was late. 23:00.
Would Mike still be at the station?
With a sigh she picked up the telephone and dialled his direct line at the station.
What would she tell him?
Would she tell him about the call, about how she “felt” about all this?
He hated her “psychic mumbo jumbo”.
He wouldn’t understand.
It was almost with relief that she replaced the handset realising that he must be out on a call or home.
She knew she could easily reach him, but … she knew that she wouldn’t.

Again she sat on the sofa and flicked aimlessly through the channels.
Her eyes were on the television, but her mind was elsewhere.
It was as if she could feel him, reaching out then drawing back.
She felt images of streets, or turmoil.
She pressed her fingers to her temples again.
Anger, rage… the emotion hurting her physically.
She went to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water.
She took two headache pills out of the medicine cabinet then grimacing put them back again. Medication wouldn’t ease the sort of headache she was having!

Brid felt almost dizzy.
She curled on the sofa and drew a blanket round her.
She shivered as she sipped the glass of water.
If only it would leave her.
She tried to shut off her mind, to block it out, yet this time she couldn’t.
She clasped the glass between her hands and took a sip.
As she withdrew the now half empty tumbler from her mouth, her eyes fixed on it and she froze, unaware suddenly of her surroundings.
She watched the surface of her drink….
…. water… she watched it ripple … move … water…
… water… a pond… diamond pond…?

The sound of the telephone made Brid start and splash some of the liquid.
Hastily she brushed it off the blanket and put the glass down.
Diamond pond? She knew the name, but what had made her think of it?

Diamond pond …. Help me … help me control him … Miss Taylor …

The words could not have been clearer if they had been spoken to her from the same room, yet the voice was inside her head and not external.

The telephone rung on.
The answer machine clicked and began to give her outgoing message.

Without realising what she did, Bridget moved to the bedroom, pulled on a jumper and then to the hall to pull on a coat.
As she moved to pick up her keys, Mike’s metallic voice filled the room.

”Brid” …. Brid … pick up with you?
Come on… I know you’re there…. Brid?
Jesus, you better be there!
Look… Brid… someone at the station told me that they’d given some caller your home number and…. “


He broke off clearly exasperated, but the worry clear in his voice.

”Look … I know you tried to call me here this evening.
I wanna know that the hell is going on.
This isn’t like you Brid.
Are you OK? … Shall I come over ?
Brid… will you just … “


He didn’t hear the sound of Brid’s front door slamming.
He did not know that his words would not be heard until much later.
He didn’t realise that his voice had barely been acknowledged,
His words were meaningless merely washed over her.

All Brid could think of was diamond pond
She had a vague idea of where the place was and headed in that direction.
Usually logical, it hadn’t crossed her mind to look it up in a map book.
She knew she’d find it.
She knew that if he wanted to speak to her, he’d show her the way.
She didn’t want to meet him, but, she had no choice.
He was desperate, pleading with her.
She couldn't bare his sorrow, couldn't turn her back on him.
It was what she had to do.
 
Trevain

I felt the decision being mabe within Bridget Taylors mind as if it were my own. Felt it and then also her donning a light jacket, her decision to carry her gun and badge made at the last instant as well, the feel of the cold, blue steel in her hand as if it were my own. And with each step she took I felt us grow closer, my eyes guiding her as she walked down the street and then across it, along the borders of the highway as she jogged lightly, her body handling the task with ease.

It startled me and I felt her own eyes widen with my surprise, I could feel her as the beast did me, and she in turn could sense us both.

Step by step she moved closer and with each turn of the path she followed my guidance, her eyes allowing me to see where she moved to, how her feet fell lightly along the grass I chose for us to run on. And suddenly I no longer needed to see thru her eyes for I could smell her, my beasts instincts flaring as she approached, then slowed as I slipped from her mind and remained kneeling at the gently lapping water, letting her come to me and sensing she would be less threatened if I remained kneeling, my face lower than hers for the moment.

"It is good to finally meet you, Miss Taylor" I spoke to the waters surface in a way of greeting her, watching her reflection as she approached, smelling her and knowing by her scent how she felt.

"It has been much too long"
 
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