Insanity Prerequsite

Chapter 2 – Infection

Tuesday, 17th October 2006,18:04

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, KICKED OUT?”Tennyo shouted.

Jade pulled the spiky-haired girl back into her seat before she made an even bigger scene.

It was dusk, the orange light marred by gathering storm clouds over the dark forest that surrounded Whateley, the resulting skyline resembled a great rift of molten lava standing on its head. The light suffused Crystal Hall, casting the scene in a hellish red.

Sara nodded blankly, crushing her third hamster to ash in her fist. The cute little rodent squeaked its death cry like a dog’s chew toy.

“After two weeks of study, they allowed me to take the basic entrance exams as a consideration for my inexperience in the topic. In all four fields, Physics, Mathematics, Chemistry and Biology, I aced the tests at 100% for each subject. Which is impossible.”

“How can you set an impossible test?” Chaka picked daintily at a bit of steak caught between her teeth, “you ask a question, there has to be an answer, right?”

“Well,” Sara sighed, “you see, according to examination theory, a teacher should design tests that separate students into bands of skill level by percentages. Below 50 percent means that the student has not completed the course outlines, 50-60 is average and on up to 90-100 percent for the best, brightest and, theoretically, the smartest students. Here at Whateley, however, they have the M-factor question, short for the Maxwell factor, which pits the student against a question that top-level researchers have yet to find the answer for. They said that this is designed to find those students that have an instinctive grasp of the subject so profound that they can solve a problem without the basis of established scientific knowledge…”

Chaka’s jaw dropped, “And you got 100 percent?!? That means that you solved it! Heck, you solved it four times!”

Sara nodded glumly, “Only my answers upset a few of the researchers. The cornerstone of my physics answer was a new variable I named D for Daoloth. They started to argue with me and one thing led to another and…”

“And what?” Jade lent forward as Sara trailed off.

“And, after Dr. Johnson suffered a mental breakdown, Dr. Matthews accused me of making the entire thing up,” Sara sighed, “and that I read all the answers out of his brain using my psi abilities. Apparently, they have another girl who can do the same sort of thing and it’s been driving them crazy. Naturally, in all the confusion, my test papers went missing…”

“Hold up,” Tennyo interrupted, her mouth full of ramen noodles, “what do you mean, naturally?”

Sara squinted, her teeth growing more pointed. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that none of you have been to University before. There’s this strange phenomenon around lecturers and advanced students that seems to invoke a sort of natural law. The better the paper you hand to a teacher, the greater the likelihood that it will mysteriously migrate into one of their research documents. My test papers are headed south for the winter,” after the momentary bout of rage, Sara deflated slightly, “I shouldn’t have cursed Matthews, though. That was the end of me.”

“WHAT!” Fey’s eyes popped open, scandalized, “You hexed a teacher!”

“Not that way,” Sara shook her head, blushing furiously, “I told him… er, well, maybe it’s not a fitting thing to say at the dinner table.”

Lancer looked delighted, “What? What was it?”

“Come on, Hank, leave her alone.” Chaka admonished, though her eyes sparkled with no little interest herself.

“No way, if it’s bad enough to get you kicked out of an entire department rather than just your class, I’ve got to hear it! Come on, Sara, lay it on me.”

Sara’s cheeks were a dark shade of purple as she lent over and whispered into Lancer’s ear. He just stared at his plate for a moment, a pale shade of green creeping up his neck, “I never thought I’d be saying this, but that’s not the sort of thing you expect to hear out of a girl’s mouth.”

“I thought you were an army brat,” Sara chuckled, “didn’t you ever listen to the drill instructors chewing out the men?”

Hank pushed his plate away. It was a historic moment that raised a few eyebrows, and not just at the Kimba table. “Yeah, but by all that’s holy, girl, there are some lines that you just don’t cross!”

“Well, well, welcome back to your latest and greatest source of news, gossip and all things Whateley! Yes, it’s Peeper and Greasy back for more with a scandalous news flash!” The speakers set high in the corners of the cafeteria belted out the words, their noise drowning out the voices of the antagonists themselves as they jumped out from behind the partition behind Lancer, catching the team by surprise.

“Hello, Peeper, who is it this time?” Sara moaned, rubbing her eyes, “Me or Fey?”

“Why BOTH, naturally,” Peeper breathed in, preparing to rhapsodize dramatically, “such lovely and dangerous ladies as yourselves deserve far more than your fair share of the lime light, not that the rest of the Negligee Nightingales…”

“That’s Team Kimba, knucklehead.” Chaka growled.

Peeper gasped, “Not any more! The poles are in! The official Whateley Academy Radio Station, or WARS, competition is over and your team now bares the official moniker of Negligee Nightingales! We’re even printing t-shirts that can be obtained, naturally, from whateley.wars.com NOW for only $39.95! And on that note, I would like to turn to more serious matters. Sara…”

Sara groaned.

Peeper pulled a small notepad out of his pocket, “…Dr. Matthews gave us a statement at lunchtime earlier today that you were dumped not just from your physics course, but from the entire science strand for cheating in an exam, swearing, disobedience and behaviour unbecoming a Whateley student. It is also rumoured that you hexed the teacher responsible for your predicament, making, and I quote, his ears turn into expletive deleted and that they then expletive deleted over his shoulders…”

Tennyo started to choke on a chicken bone, her snort of mirth causing her to inhale it rather than swallow.

“…proving that the Nasty Girl of Poe is still in full flight…”

“But I didn’t…” Sara tried to interrupt, but Peeper just steamrolled over her.

“…leading to the runners up for our latest competition! Interested parties have been sending in their suggestions for your ultimate code name thick and fast! From the one thousand and twenty seven entries…”

“I-I d-d-didn’t think there were that many st-st-students at W-Whateley, P-P-P-Peeper!” Greasy interrupted, speaking in a nervous monotone from a scrap of paper.

“Indeed there aren’t, minion, but in our generosity…”

“Assholes use the royal we now?” Chaka snarled.

“…we have allowed multiple entries for one contestant! However, from so many entries we have culled the top ten for voting over the next week. Remember, guys out in Whateleyland, you can vote on our website whateley.wars.com and buy our great new merchandise! But the runners up are: Draculette, The Lost Girl, The Bride, Countess Orlock, Fangoria, Suckmistress, Suckula, Anytime, Elvira 2 and my personal favourite, Bitch! Now, Sara, which selection do you currently endorse?”

Sara calmly set aside her cage of hamsters, smiled thankfully as she reached over to borrow Tennyo’s spoon, then took a deep breath before answering.

“I’m going to kill him.”

It took the combined might of Hank, Tennyo and Chaka to pin the crazed adolescent girl and all her tentacles to the floor, still trying to piton herself forward with the spoon, driving it into the cracks between tiles for leverage. Her screams of hatred were unintelligible.

Peeper grinned, ignoring the ruckus and shoving the microphone under Fey’s nose, “Now, for the flame-haired elf maiden who’s beauty makes Galadriel and Arwen green as the leaves with envy, to who’s radiant picture Legolas services his mighty arrow every night, FEY! Welcome to the program.”

“Get out of my face you snot-nosed little…”

“Now, speaking of whacking off to pictures, it is with great pleasure that WARS has to inform you that your posters are currently the best selling item from whateley.wars.com’s online store, with positively huge orders for the equally huge ten by four poster featuring ‘Nikki Reilly: Nature, beautiful but fierce!’ And most prominently your own sizeable measurements clothed in as little as possible. With more than 150 already sold at $60 a piece to hormonal teens across campus, what is your reaction to the fact that most of them will be flogging the dolphin to the sight of your angelic face before bed tonight?”

Peeper let off a squeak not unlike the hamster’s death cry as Fey wrapped her hands around his throat and began to squeeze, the deadly gaze of Aunghadhail superseding her usually pleasant expression, “Know thee, foul worm, that tonight you have brought upon yourself my displeasure!”

Peeper started to turn blue, a wet spot spreading down the leg of his pants.

“Ah, Fey?” Jade patted the older-looking girl on the back, “You’re killing him, let go.”

Fey looked down her nose at the little girl for a moment before her face softened, dropping the slimy reporter onto the floor, his knees giving out. After a moment of staring at the girls in abject terror, he and Greasy bolted out the door, running back towards Twain as fast as their legs could carry them.

“NO FAIR!” Sara screeched from her position under Tennyo, “I HAD DIBS!”

“Come on, guys, things aren’t that bad,” Chaka grinned at Fey and Sara, who stared at the ground dejectedly as they walked back to Poe, “you both taught the little bastards a lesson they won’t soon forget. It’ll be another two weeks before they bother us again.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sara sighed, her blazer wrapped around her waist now that the sun had set, busy trying to undo the top two buttons of her blouse without cutting them off with her claws, “they’ve been hounding everyone for the story behind the sacrifice debacle, and the more they don’t hear the more they’re making up as they go along. They’ve even got a discussion thread in the WARS forums dedicated to it.”

Jade scowled, “Isn’t that old news by now? Can’t they move onto someone else?”

“I don’t think Peeper wants to move on. He’s too busy trying to sell merchandise.”

“Hey, forget about those deadbeats,” Chaka’s grin widened, her optimism relentless, “Fey scared ‘em so bad, they’ll circumnavigate the world twice before they realize they’re back at Twain. What was with that spoon, anyway?”

Sara grinned back, “An old bit of movie wisdom I remembered, and I quote: ‘It’s dull, you twit. It’ll hurt more’.”

“Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves,” Hank smiled, “good film.”

“Oh!” Fey gasped, covering her mouth with one hand, “I just realized! What’s happened to your timetable with all of this?”

“Dr. Bellows is recommending that I go into the extended Psi and Magic course like you. I don’t know what’ll happen. I’ve got to see the Headmistress tomorrow.” Sara blinked, coming a sudden realization of her own, “You know, it’s almost 10 days until the one month anniversary of my transformation.”

They all glanced at each other.

“Uh, did you say one month?” Tennyo asked innocently.

Sara nodded.

Tennyo cleared her throat, trying to sound casual, glancing up and down the path to see if anyone was around, “So, how do you feel? Been a little cranky lately? Any pain?”

Chaka slapped her in the stomach, “Subtle, genius.”

“What was that about?” Sara asked, puzzled.

Phase was wringing her hands behind her back, trying not to look nervous, “Uh, you see, we’re all a bit worried about… well, you know how Fey gets at that time of the month…”

“Hey!” Fey objected.

Sara stared at them all incredulously, then laughed, “Oh, don’t worry, I don… er, I’m not ovulating yet…”

“But it could start at any time,” Tennyo preached, “you’re the right age and today’s behaviour has been very unusualfor you to say the least. Cursing at teachers, threatening to kill students in the most painful way available… maybe we should check you out as soon as we get back.”

“I’ll get the painkillers.” Chaka crossed her arms, inviting no resistance.

“She can borrow some of my tampons…” Fey offered.

“OK! Time out!” Sara crossed her hands over each other, “I don’t need checking out and I don’t need medicine and I don’t need tampons. The truth is… uh, well… I don’t menstruate. I never will.”

“You’re sterile?” Tennyo sighed.

Jade looked up at Sara with large watery eyes, taking hold of her hand, “Poor dear.”

“NO. Uhgh! Don’t be so dense!” Sara lowered her voice to a whisper, “I mean that I. Don’t. Menstruate. I am 100% fertile, all day every day, apparently it’s a fringe benefit of being a Regen 6… er, guys?”

The entire group had stopped, glaring at Sara, with the exceptions of Hank and Jade who stepped fearfully back out of the line of fire. Tennyo’s eyes had turned that fiery red that was usually a prelude to ultra-violence, “Are you trying to tell us that you won’t get the curse? Ever?”

Sara nodded sheepishly.

“And you were going to let us know this… when?” Chaka stepped forward.

“Umm, let me see… never.”

“So, we’ve been watching you for the last two weeks,” Phase scowled, “for nothing?”

Sara began to edge away from the four girls as they loomed over her.

Fey’s hands twitched, “I say we simulate it for her with a coat hanger.”

“YOU BIG DUMMIES!” Jade ran as fast as she could towards Poe, tears streaming down her face.

They all stood there for a moment, stunned. Tennyo recovered first, “Oh, dear. I think we went a little overboard, guys.”

“You… you don’t think she’s even jealous of our… you know, the curse, do you?” Fey stammered.

Hank sighed, “I think that’s a pretty safe assumption.”

Tennyo shook her head, “Come on, we better go find her.”

They found Jade, not in her dorm room like they thought, but in Sara’s room in the basement. “I-I didn’t feel like running up the stairs, to tell the truth.” Jade laughed through the catch in her voice. Tennyo hugged the little girl tightly, rocking slightly. Fey rubbed her back, sitting on the bed, Chaka held her hand while Hank gripped her shoulder. Ayla sat cross legged on the floor, squeezing one knee.

Sara sat across from the group, feeling uncomfortable. Jade cried in a perfect circle of protection and love, it seemed crass to intrude. Even Jinn was wrapped over her shoulders, charged into Sara’s blanket.

“Are you OK now?” Tennyo asked.

Jade nodded, wiping away her tears, “Yeah. I’m OK. I’m sorry, I just... its been an emotional night, I think.”

“Coming up to bed? I’ve got ballroom in a bit but I’ll skip if you want.”

“No! Don’t do that! I’ll stay and talk to Sara for a while, then I might go to bed. I’ll be OK.”

A few of them gave Jade a kiss on the cheek or forehead as they filed out, except for Ayla who grinned malevolently as she scuffed up Jade’s hair, the little girl giggling in protest.

Finally, they were alone. Sara felt like she was on the stage of an old western, two antagonists sitting across from each other in a saloon, cards and dice scattered over the table that sat between them, guns drawn underneath. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Sara asked hesitantly.

Jade hopped off the bed and skipped over to Sara, wrapping her arms around the demon girl’s shoulders. The Demon Princess jumped slightly, unused to being touched.

“What’s up, huh? Aside from the other stuff today.Tennyo was right, usually you get the better of those baka radio guys. Something’s bothering you, so spill it!” Jade demanded jokingly.

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “Well, to be honest, I… I haven’t had real friends for a long time. A very long time. So I don’t know how to behave, you know, I just… don’t.”

Jade grinned, “When you get right down to it, neither do I. I just go with what feels good at the time.”

“What feels good?”

“Hey,” Jade squeezed Sara in her arms, a devilish glint in her eyes, “we’re about the same size you know. Mind if I try on a few of your clothes?”

Sara blinked, but caught on in a moment, returning Jade’s smile with her own wicked grin, “Only if you don’t mind if I get changed as well.”

Like co-conspirators sealing a blood oath, the two girls slapped their palms together, grasping the other’s hand, “LETS DO IT!”

Jinn swooped down behind them as they raced over to the wardrobe, shrinking down to her more girlish, 14 year old, form, “Me too! Me too!”

“I am so jealous of your legs, Sara.” Jade pouted, examining her own in the mirror, “mine look like two sticks.”

Sara shifted the hem of the pleated miniskirt to get a better view, “Well, they’re not that good, Jade…”

Jinn slapped her on the back, “Don’t be modest. It really doesn’t suit you.”

“Yeah,” Jade whined, “look, you’ve got the whole curvy thigh thing going for you leading into the sexy calves, even without heels. Heck, the only thing that looks like it’ll touch if you hold your legs together is your knees! I can’t believe you’re only thirteen!”

Sara scoffed, “Oh, come on!”

“Try it! I dare you!” Jade thrust her hands onto her hips.

It took Sara five minutes to admit they were right, “Ok, you got me, but don’t sell yourself short. Jinn has lovely legs.”

“Not that good,” Jinn smoothed out a few of the wrinkles the bodysuit she’d borrowed, sticking her leg out for comparison, “see? I’m a little thicker in the thighs and ankles.”

Sara rolled her eyes. She might not fully realize it, but Jinn had a body more like Nikki or Tennyo than Sara’s now, “Yeah, but you’ve got bigger hips and chest than I do, so it works. Stop being so paranoid.”

Jade sighed again, “Sure. Jinn’s fine, but what about me?”

“Well, you’ll grow up into her, won’t you?” Sara smiled.

“I hope so.” Jade lowered her head, letting her hair fall over her face.

Sara lifted her chin up with two fingers, “You will, one day. We’ll just have to figure out how.”

“We?” Jade asked, slightly stunned.

“Of course, you didn’t really think I’d pass up the opportunity to help my best friend, did you?”

Jade threw herself into Sara’s arms with such force that the two girls overbalanced, tumbling to floor. Jinn sighed theatrically as they giggled at each other, “Girls, must be the hormones.”

By 9:20, Jade staggered off to bed with Tennyo, still wearing one of Sara’s black skirts, yawning, “See you in the morning, Sara.”

“See you, Jade. ‘Night Tennyo. Nice dress, by the way.”

Tennyo grinned, performing a floating curtsey before leading Jade off by the hand, still in her ball dress.

“Belle was right, we are all showboats aren’t we?” Jinn chuckled.

Sara shrugged, still giggling like the schoolgirl she appeared to be, “You’re young, you’ll get over it.”

Jinn cocked her head to the side curiously, “Don’t you mean we?”

Sara winked, “Nope. I’m older than I look, remember?”

“I keep forgetting.” Jinn chuckled, “What’s it like being grown up?”

Sara shrugged, “It happens so fast you don’t really notice it. I never thought about it much. I just powered on through school as fast as I could, then got a scholarship to study in England when I was 16. I didn’t bat an eye, I just went. I supported myself while I was over there, then I started writing and hit it straight off with a publisher. No time to look back and wonder what I’d missed.”

“Ever have any girlfriends?”

“Uh,” Sara blushed, “well… you see…”

“You did!” Jinn sat up straight, like a wolf that’s caught the scent of blood.

“Ok, all right, yes I had some girlfriends. I was a world famous writer, for god’s sake…”

“Girlfriends? More than one? How many are we talking about here?”

“Er,” Sara started counting them out on her fingers, “sixteen, give or take.”

“SIXTEEN!”

“Not so loud!” Sara shushed her.

“Oh, forget about that, did you ever… you know?”

Sara sighed, it was going to be a long night, “Yes, of course I did.”

“What was it like?”

“Huh? Is this that death thing again?” Sara teased, trying not to smirk.

“No, I mean sex.” Jinn curled in on herself. Sara was sure the girl would be bright red if she had a body.

“It was good. It is good, usually, but it’s not always great. If you want my advice, wait for someone special to share yourself with. Without that, sex is meaningless and…” Sara groped for the right word, “…hollow.”

“Did you ever have anyone special?” Jinn asked, moving to the edge of the bed.

Sara shook her head, trying not to think of Erin, “No, not really. There were one or two that I thought were right, but I couldn’t offer them what they wanted. Children, a home, someone to grow old with, a life in the sun. Then there were the ones that were after my money, they were all too happy that I couldn’t give them all that. So I sort of gave up after a while and just took love where I could find it.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It is,” Sara confirmed, “how about you?”

“Er… I dunno yet, to be honest. I mean the kissing thing with Theresa was… interesting. Yeah, interesting. But I don’t think I’m ready. I mean, just thinking about waking up next to the Don gives me chills. And it’s not like I can actually feel anything like this.” Jinn hugged herself tightly as if to ward off a sudden gust of wind.

Sara tucked her legs underneath her on the bed, turning to face her friend, “That was just a bad experience. From what you’ve told us, the Don is a grade A+ selfish bastard. Those sort of guys are the ones that give the rest of us a bad name.”

Jinn eyed off Sara’s willowy body, “Us?”

Sara slapped herself on the side of the head, “Ok, former us. Look, selfish guys have sex for one thing: themselves. So they bang away, blast off and hit the pillow a second later. The old ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ stuff women have complained about forever. That is really disgusting because it makes a lot of girls feel used, and rightly so. BUT, then there are the other guys who take the time to learn a few things, try to be a little sympathetic and take things slower, worshipping at the altar rather than treating their girl like a dirty dishrag. Those sort of guys are the ones girls like because they care. Smart girls, at least.”

“Rip and Bunny don’t like guys at all.”

“Yeah, but they’re prejudiced,” Sara grinned, “hey, don’t get me wrong, my motto is whatever floats your boat. Heck, I’ve never made any bones about being bi, have I? Rip and Bunny are attracted to girls, and I’m the first person to cheer them on (preferably from on top of them) but don’t let those two drill into your head that all guys are bad lovers. One or two actually know what they’re doing. It’s finding them that’s the problem, or teaching the one you’ve got.”

Jinn guffawed, “So, you like Rip and Bunny, eh? Anyone else you’d like to sink your teeth into, metaphorically speaking?”

Sara groaned, “Any more of that and I’ll call the pun police. Well, Fey’s nice, naturally…”

“You were saying something about pun police?”

“Touché. Ok, I’ll rephrase that. Fey is pretty much the perfect specimen of girl kind and those pointy ears are so darned cute I just want to nibble on them for hours,” Sara flopped over on the bed, lying on her stomach so that she could wave her petite bare feet in the air, “Chaka Sempai’s nice too, but I don’t know, I think she wants to explore the other side of the street a bit. At least, that’s the vibe I’ve been getting from her. You’re roomie’s hetero, not like it really matters if I put my mind to it, but I don’t like messing with people so it’s look but no touch.”

Jinn whistled, “You really put a lot of thought into this stuff, don’t you? What about Jade?”

“Errrr…” Sara glanced about evasively, “That’s you.”

“Why, I do believe you’re right! I’ve never noticed that before, what a revelation! You must be psychic…”

“OK, ok,” Sara interrupted, “you don’t have to hit me over the head with it. To be perfectly candid, I like you a lot, but Jade is prepubescent. Get back to me after we figure out how to make you grow up a little.”

“Hey!” Jinn posed on the bed, thrusting her chest out to draw attention to her not-so-small attributes, “I’m all grown up in case you haven’t noticed…”

Suddenly, Sara grabbed her from behind, pressing her breasts against the ghost-girl’s back, “Oh, don’t worry, I have noticed.”

Jinn jumped up so high she hit the roof, babbling, “Wha… but… erg… me… na…”

The demon-girl grinned mischievously, horns and a tentacle-tail emerging from under her skin, “Just kidding!”

“Why you,” Jinn deflated slightly, floating back down onto the bed, “you were just teasing!”

“Yep! You don’t have to worry, I mean it’s not like you can feel anything like this, right?” Sara chuckled, “Besides, you’re the only person in this entire place that isn’t affected by my aura. I find that a lot more valuable. If you’ll pardon the pun, sex can really screw things up sometimes.”

They lay next to each other for a while, allowing the awkward moment to pass. Sara was quite pleased with herself, at least she’d gotten away from the subject of Erin. Just the thought of the shapeshifter’s deep, savage, kisses was making her warm on the inside.

Jinn was the first to talk again, “Decided on a code name yet?”

“You’re just going to badger me about it until I do aren’t you?” Sara gave the ‘ghost’ her best mock scowl.

“Of course!” Jinn poked Sara’s ‘kidney’, “Besides, you know if you don’t one of Peeper’s silly competition ones will stick. With your luck, you’ll be called Suckula for the rest of your life.”

Sara grimaced, “It’s better than ‘Anytime’ at least.”

“Not by much. What was up with some of those other ones though? I mean, The Lost Girl? Countess Orlock? The Bride had something to do with Kill Bill, right?”

“At least they didn’t think of Barbra Collins,” Sara muttered darkly, “The Lost Boys is an old vampire flick from the 80’s, before you were born. Count Orlock was the villain in the original black and white vampire film Nosferatu and I’d guess The Bride is a reference to the brides of Dracula which is more than a little demeaning when I think about it.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have anything of your own yet,” Jinn admonished, “I thought you did this stuff for a living?”

“I’ve been thinking, I’ve been thinking,” Sara glared.

“There have to be a million vampire code names out there…”

“That’s the problem,” Sara sighed, “I checked the registry. There are 136 variations on the code name Vampire copyrighted already. That’s more people than live in Poe, and they all suck blood on some level.”

“You’ll have to come up with something else then…”

“I KNOW! I know. At first I thought about using Cancer, it’s my sign and I am pretty much a living tumor, but it just has too many negative connotations. I might as well call myself melanoma, the terminal wart from hell.”

“What about Vamp? It suits you.”

“Taken,” Sara interrupted, “by that albino-girl who’s ass I kicked back in Boston, remember?”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Sara nodded, “she even registered it, would you believe? Turns out that super-villains have the same rights to their codenames as heroes do. So I moved on to the variations on Demon or Devil. Would you believe that there are 1567 variations copyrighted? Red Devil, Green Devil, Succubus, Balor, Erinyes… I even looked up more obscure names like Arachne and Morrigan. The ancient legends all have modern analogues among the superhero cliques. Heck, there’s a Greek team based around the Olympian theme. That avenue’s no good anyway, some cult picked up on the link between vampires and Hermes and registered 167 names based on that.”

“There’s a cult of 167 vampire mutants?” Jinn gasped.

“No, they’re selling the rights to the names to new vampire heroes. It’s a conservative capitalist business cult. From there I moved on to blood. Would you believe that Heme is registered? One guy even runs around calling himself White Cell, yelling ‘beware foul germs of crime’!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Sara shook her head, smirking ironically, “so I’m looking for something that I can use without sounding like a dork, costing me a years pay or getting me sued…”

Some time later, Sara was still grinning as she packed the bodysuit back into her wardrobe. The room was a complete mess, books scattered across the floor, the dirty laundry had tumbled out of the hamper in the corner during a particularly vicious wrestling match. But that’s what happens when two practically invulnerable mutants decide to wrestle, things get out of hand. Sara shrugged to herself, Who cares, it was fun. Still, she felt compelled to neaten her room up a bit, picking her way through the disaster zone.

Finally, everything was returned to its original state and Sara felt she could relax, assuming a full lotus position in the middle of the carpet. Her unconscious breathing had slowed to a point where she sometimes found herself having to remember to take a breath so she could talk, it felt more and more like a chore that she had to put up with rather than one of the last vestiges of her humanity to cling to. Like her pulse. She didn’t have one of those either, just a steady rush of fluids as her cells squeezed and expanded minutely to circulate the life force to her limbs. Along with her pulse, her body temperature had lowered to a point where she was fairly chilly to the touch, though she herself felt nothing unusual. Occasional hot flushes reminded her, however, that her new body needed things the old one hadn’t.

She cleared her mind and tried to relax, letting go of her consciousness. Her room melted into liquid impressions of shapes before dissolving into darkness, all that remained were the glowing red runes that surrounded her on all sides, hemming her into a cage of magical energy that strained and buckled under the pressure of her mind. Then the cage ruptured, spinning off into space.

Sara walked barefoot and naked through dark granite hallways made of cyclopean blocks of stone carved from the core of the world itself. What world, she wasn’t sure. Shifting runes lined the passageways, strange undulating script that she could read easily though she had never studied the language before in her life. There was a warmth about the place, a welcome, homey feeling that pervaded the air.

She came to an open doorway, though there was apparently no door to shut it felt wrong to call the portal an arch somehow. Beyond the door was a pleasant field of grass that led to a beach. The sound of the waves reached the doorway but no further, as if cut off at the threshold. Sara stepped through, unafraid of the bright sunlight that pervaded the area, despite her nakedness.

The beach was long and broad, the sand perfectly soft as it ran between Sara’s talons. In the distance on the shoreline appeared a pagoda of sorts, the roof a perfect pyramid made from more dark basalt, supported by thick columns of the same material. Basking in the sunlight before the pagoda was a beautiful elfin woman with flowing red hair. She wore an ice blue bikini top that set off her striking red hair and creamy skin perfectly as she sunbathed on the pure yellow sand. A tall, well muscled, teenager stood behind her wearing only a set of briefs, showing off his well oiled torso and holding a tray with a single exotic fruit cocktail perched on top.

Sara blinked and found herself wearing a black bikini of her own as she moved towards the girl, crossing miles with a single step. She recognized the girl as Fey, her simply beautiful form unmistakable at such close proximity. The handsome boy took no notice, looking straight out to sea like a lifeguard, jaw set and stoic in his duty. She knelt down next to Fey as the wind brushed her skin, the knotted string that tied the bikini in place tapping her back rhythmically.

“Fey?”

The elf moaned pleasantly, opening her eyes and stretching out languidly, caressing Sara’s cheek, “Mmmm, you’re finally here.”

“What are you…ERK!”

Sara was cut off as Fey thrust her lips upward to meet the demon girl’s, parting her mouth in an open invitation as she pulled the smaller girl down. Sara’s body responded without her consent, her tongue plunging deep into Fey’s throat as she fell on top of the elfin girl’s curvaceous body. Fey moaned with delight around her lover’s tongue as Sara’s tendrils began to explore every inch of her body. Strings snapped as cloth was torn away, a thick tentacle slid between Fey’s legs, poised at the edge of her lower lips.

Thrusting…

Fey lurched forward, bathed in sweat, breathing labored. The room was dark and still, the only movement the rise and fall of her roommate’s chest. She hugged herself tightly as the chill air attacked her sweaty pajamas, her body still tingling from the half remembered dream. She moaned quietly, allowing herself to fall back onto her pillow and snuggle under the blankets, drawing them up under her chin.

As the afterglow subsided, she became aware of the wet feeling between her legs but tried to ignore it, too tired to care. “First I become a girl,” she mumbled, barely coherent, “then I get my period, now I have wet dreams. What did I do to deserve this?”

A moment later, she was asleep again, having an entirely different dream.

Chapter 3 – Incubation

Wednesday, 18th October 2006, 06:07

WHAM!

Sara was slowly awakened from her meditation by a low rumble that shook the walls, several books toppling sideways on her shelf. It was early, the sun just rising over the horizon. The rumble continued, rhythmically pumping up and down, up and down. She ignored it, concentrating on the mental exercise. “Sympathetic magic uses the link between two identical patterns as a conduit for magical power,” she whispered to herself, the words only a balm to fool her conscious mind into focusing elsewhere, “such as identical strings of DNA or…”

WHAM!

Sara jumped, the vibration knocking a book off her shelves and bouncing from her knee. Sara looked about, unsure if this were some sort of practical joke. Her room looked odd, well even odder that it had last night, but she couldn’t quite place it. She decided to centre herself once more and get back to the exercise. “Sympathetic magic,” she repeated, the rumble slowly building again, “uses the link between two identical patterns as a conduit for magical power…”

WHAM!

Sara jumped to her feet and stormed outside. There was nothing, the hallway was dark and quiet. Not to be stalled in her vengeance, she marched down the hall towards the lobby hoping to catch the prankster in the act when a giant burst through a side door, straight into her path.

Sara hit the solid wall of flesh and bounced, her nose buried in almost mountainous abs. She looked up at the golden Amazon in awe for a moment. The woman towered over her at about six-and-a-half feet tall, her smooth Arabic skin tone complimenting her shimmering golden hair (real gold, not blonde but honest to goodness gold) and iridescent eyes perfectly. She was buff without overdoing it, ripped without losing her sleek femininity and graceful curves. Her chin and jaw were broad and angular without being in any way masculine.

Sara decided to make up for her lack of height with her best death-stare, “Were you the one rocking the whole house just now?”

The bigger girl stood blinking for a few moments as if dazed. Sara stared back. After a moment, Sara had to reappraise her, realizing that she was not so much a woman as a girl, probably not much over 16, just BIG.

“Well? Was it you? Did you see anyone?” Sara snapped.

The girl jumped slightly, “Uh… No, I didn’t see anyone. I was just doing a few reps.”

Sara sighed, “Damn, they must have legged it. Say, if you remember anything let me know, OK? My room’s just down the hall.”

Sara left the girl nodding behind her, a vague purple haze smoking off the bodybuilder in waves. She sighed as she shut the door, looking at the room again, looking closely for differences. First, the curtains were open and the window slightly ajar, definitely not where she’d had it last night. Second, the runes on the walls looked different. Rougher, stranger, more… familiar than they had looked before. Last, but not least, there was a shadowy lump underneath her desk, wedged in the corner between it and the wall.

She crept over to the desk and knelt down, trying to get a closer look. It was black, whatever it was, and fuzzy. Against her better judgment, she reached out, grasping the ball by the hair and wrenching it out, holding it firmly in her hands and turning it over, feeling something soft and smooth underneath. She gasped in shock as the hair fell away, parting to reveal the object’s terrible form.

Hippolyta shook herself as the door closed behind the little Goth girl, slapping herself in the head, muttering as she headed up towards the 3rd floor showers. “Stupid, stupid.”

She set the cold water on full bore, allowing the rush of water the pummel her skin, cooling her off. Who on earth was that girl? Or, better yet, what was that girl? So tiny and delicate, like a twig, yet so… so… fierce! Those burning red eyes…

But what was that thing sticking out of her back?

“Hey, Hippolyta, try not to use all the water, huh? Leave some for the rest of us.” Beltaine threw her towel down over her shower door before stepping inside, quickly twisting the taps to her preferred settings.

Hippolyta grunted in agreement, closing the tap slightly. She considered her options. Belle was worthy of respect, but relations between the two of them had been strained to say the least. Still, the witch knew practically everyone in the dorm, so it was worth a shot. “Belle.”

Beltaine jumped slightly, not used to the angry Amazon starting a conversation, “Uh, yeah?”

“Who’s the kid living in the basement?”

Belle picked up the shampoo and started to work the suds into her hair, “You mean Sara? What, you’ve been living in a cave again, Hippie?”

Hippolyta dismissed the barb with a low growl, that was just how Belle was, “You know I don’t pay much attention to the Froshes.”

Belle shrugged, slightly perplexed that she was showing an interest now, “Well, you must have heard of the vampire chick. Eats babies, sucks out your soul? The whole WARS thing a while back?”

Hippolyta shrugged, “Heard something about baby eating mutants. I just thought it was another stupid rumour.”

“Well, yes and no,” Belle vacillated, “Sara’s a psychic vampire. She sucks the life out of things, turns cute little puppies to ash every morning for breakfast. First day here she took out the Martial Cheering Squad with a bit of help from Jade.”

Hippolyta nodded respectfully, impressed, “That why Patty’s on detention? Serves the little bitch right for messing with a Poe girl.”

Belle bit her tongue. Hippie was actually showing respect?!?! “Well, no not for that. The same night she ambushed Sara in her room…”

“WHAT!” Hippolyta punched the wall so hard that a tile popped loose, clattering to the floor ten feet away. A moment later she regretted it, but was glad that the cold water was there to hide the blush in her cheeks.

“Uh, Hippie, is something wrong?”

Hippolyta yanked the tap closed and stalked out of the cubical, drying herself off as she went.

Belle looked over the shower door just in time to see Hippolyta leave, still dripping water from under her bathrobe, pushing past a small group of rubbernecking sophomores on her way.

Sara made her way slowly up the stairs and into the hallway on level 2, the freshman dorms. Despite her small stature, even the larger bricks gave the vampire girl a wide berth. No-one seemed to be able to get used to watching her eat breakfast. In the girl’s shower, things were a bit more friendly, most of her fellow students giving her a polite wave as she entered. Sara stepped up to her locker while ‘Bugs’ Bunny peeled off her shirt in the next cubicle, busy talking with Jade.

“…Just wait till I finish those egg bombs,” Bunny enthused, bursting into a maniacal little chuckle, “then we’ll see how seriously they’ll take, hey Sara!”

Sara tried to smile, opening her locker and hanging up her dark red bathrobe before starting to undress. Bugs had a habit of changing direction right in the middle of a sentence, “Hey. More gadgets, Jade?”

The little girl giggled with pure homicidal glee, “The more the merrier. Bugs is just working on some missiles based on the non-lethal rounds I’ve got for my Cobra. You should see the Tazer Egg! I’ll be able to zap everyone within ten feet.”

“Tesla induction coil?” Sara queried the inventor, fiddling with her singlet that just did not want to slip through her arm.

“Yep,” Bugs nodded, “with an electromagnetic focus field.”

“Ah, Bunny,” Sara began her request, still tugging absently at her singlet, “I really need to talk to you about a team project I’ve been working on, sometime soon, about phased Tesla induction and subspace transference...”

“Uh,” Jade interrupted, “I don’t think you’ll be able to get that off with that thing on your back.”

Sara yanked at the singlet, “What thing?”

Jade got up and turned the older girl around, “Hold still. It looks like a pole sticking out of the singlet. Where’d you get it?” She grabbed at the strange object and tugged lightly. Sara felt it, but not where she was expecting. “Jade, let go.”

“I’ve almost got it…”

“No, honey, please let go,” Sara reached around and grabbed Jade’s slender wrist, pulling her hand away. Everyone was watching now as Sara tried to get a firm grip on the shaft, her elbows bending backward to get a proper hold. She closed her eyes and pulled.

There was a long, sickening, sucking sound as Sara’s blood clung to the intruding object, the demon girl could feel the point slowly exit her rib cage. Finally the whole thing jerked loose with a POP that echoed through the tiled bathroom. Sara held up the stake, still dripping with her purplish black ichor. The wound in her back snapped shut, spitting out several splinters before disappearing completely.

At that point someone decided to scream. Later, no one could actually agree on who screamed first, or who was also the first to sprint naked and dripping out the door. In fact, the only three people not to do so were too stunned to think of it. Sara stared at the wooden stake critically. It was a smoothly lathed wooden stake, light brown in tone. Silver rings bound the haft while the point arced in a graceful parabolic curve to the tip. The wood was polished and lacquered, the obvious care of craftsmanship marred by the inscription ‘Mr. Pointy’ on the handle by some rough tool like a pocketknife.

“Well this is just the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.” Sara snorted.

Bugs seemed to be stuck in a recursive loop, staring first at ‘Mr. Pointy’ then up at Sara, then back to the stake.

“Is that all you can say?” Jade shouted, “Someone just tried to kill you, you know!”

“Yeah, but they didn’t do much research. First, this thing is regular pine wood. Vampire hunting stakes should be oak, ash, aspen, juniper or hawthorn. Second, it’s lacquered. The wood should be raw to touch the heart directly. Thirdly, even if I did still have a heart, the stake was driven through my spine and would have missed it completely. Fourth, I’m not really a vampire, so this thing is totally useless against me. And fifth, what sort of uncultured oaf calls their stake ‘Mr. Pointy’?”

Jade coughed, “You don’t watch TV much do you?”

At that point, Fey and Tennyo burst into the room, still in their bathrobes. Tennyo dragged Hank’s unconscious form behind her. “OK, what the hell is going on here? And what on earth is that thing?”

Sara took a deep breath, buying time to figure out how to begin to explain it when the chanting started. It was a soft drone of monosyllabic words in Chinese, a wall of sound and prayer that rose from outside the front entrance. The stake forgotten for a moment, Jade and Bugs hastily pulled on their own robes as the group followed the sound out to the front balcony. Most of the girls were standing in their doorways, peeking around the frame.

Chaka was standing fully dressed in the lobby, grinning in half good humor and half disbelief, “Oh, you have GOT to see this!”

They walked past her and out into the cold morning air where Phase waited, wearing more torn clothes than usual to ward off the cold. Grey clouds covered the sky, a distant shade of blue threatening rain and storms. The diffuse light allowed no shadows, casting the scene in flat tones. Several crowds of students had gathered, one directly below made up of those from Poe and another in the direction of the cafeteria. They had stopped to gawk at the orange-robed Buddhists that sat in neat cross-legged rows, fiddling with necklaces of beads. A team of Rabbis (if the true name for a group of Rabbis was a ‘team’) prayed in Hebrew, their arms raised into the air in solemn praise of God. Lastly, a grey haired catholic priest in a black suit with white dog collar preached from a podium, a purple scarf with gold embroidered crucifixes draped over his shoulders.

“And a great plague of locusts will descend upon this house!” The Father bellowed, clutching at the air with fingers curled into claws. “There shall be famine and plague and fire, mingled with blood! The servant of Beelzebub shall descend upon your body and infest it with her evil spawwwwwn!”

“Gee, I wonder who he could be talking about?” Sara muttered sarcastically, starting to get annoyed.

The priest continued to rant, forcing Fey to raise her voice over the din, rubbing her arms to keep them warm, “What do you think?”

“I think that if this keeps up, I’m going to run out of clothes by next month. This is my third set ruined in so many weeks.”

“Excuse me?”

A cough from behind interrupted them. They turned to see Mrs. Horton standing in the darkness of the lobby next to Chaka, “What is all this about, girls? And what on earth happened to Mr. Declan?”

Tennyo blushed, “Ah, well, Lancer here was in the hallway when the girls dashed out of the showers. I panicked a little and bonked him on the head a bit too hard, I think…”

The housemistress sighed, covering her eyes with her hands, “OK, girls, you can take him to the infirmary. Ms. Waite, the Principal just sent an urgent message for you to see her immediately. I suggest you change and grab a potplant from the café on the way through.”

Sara nodded, handing ‘Mr. Pointy’ to Jade, “Could you hold onto this for a while? Thanks, I hope I’m not too long. What’s the flag today?”

“Red,” Chaka supplied, leaning out over the railing.

“Shit.”

“Manners, young lady.” Ms. Horton tisked as she followed Sara downstairs, leaving Team Kimba to watch the show from the balcony. Sara rushed out of the cottage a minute later, still fiddling with a new hooded blazer. Unfortunately, the priest spotted her, “There’s the WITCH! Hellspawn of the Ninth Circle! Cannibal! Betrayer! Monster! Follow the DEMON, we must hound her from these walls!”

The priests of every faith, united for the first time that any could remember, were all amazed to find that they were running in the same direction, hot on the pale girl’s trail.

Fey looked worried, “Is she going to be all right? All by herself?”

Chaka spread her hands helplessly. Tennyo sighed, her shoulders slumped. Jade looked worried. Hank’s snore reminded them that they had somewhere to be, so they propped him up on a couch and got back to the serious business of showering, dressing and the million other things girls had to do before they could start the day.

Senior Lieutenant Forsythe surveyed the melted iron bars, “Can you tell where it went?”

The Esper shook his bald head, “No, nothing at all. It’s as if someone or something wiped all psychic traces from the cave.”

Stan and Morrie stood several feet away, fingering their laser rifles nervously. Forsythe nodded, they knew better than anyone what was down in that hole, and if they were scared…

“OK, Stan, seal it up. Sergeant, I want squads 1, 2 and 3 out on patrol NOW and get ten of the chair warmers into combat fatigues and out there with them. Tell Simeon to double time it.”

Sergeant Harris grinned, “Reynolds not invited to the party, Sir?”

“Cut the crap, Sergeant.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The two maintenance engineers seemed all too happy to bolt the adamantium hatch into the stonework, the new doorway inlayed with orichalcum runes. Since hardened steel had failed to do the job this time, Carson had approved the upgrade. Whatever had come out of that cave wasn’t something that amateurs could handle, Reynolds would be out of his depth. Besides, someone had to keep the peace.

Forsythe took one last look as the darkness was sealed away once more, “I want all our men on alert, keep the red flag flying for the rest of the day and let the faculty know that a Class X threat may be on the loose. God help us all.”

Sara slammed the door to admin just in time, ramming a heavy chair under the handle to brace against the assault of the religious mob outside. The administrators stared at her, frozen where they stood. She smiled at them ingratiatingly and sauntered over to the front desk as if everything in the world was well and good.

“Hi. I’m Sara Waite, the Headmistress asked me to stop by this morning?”

The secretary nodded, “Go right on through to the waiting room. She should call for you presently. There are some people in with her at the moment. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

Sara wound her way through the desks, still ignoring the continuing stares and the banging on the front door, taking a seat on the bench outside the Headmistress’s office across from the empty desk of Ms. Hartford, or Hardass as she was known by the students of Whateley. Through the frosted glass that separated the waiting area from the office, she could see two figures, one dark and gesticulating wildly, his voice raised but muffled by the soundproof wall. The other was a red and gold blob, though obviously humanoid, no other details could be discerned, he seemed to be much calmer than the other however. A woman’s voice often cut through the black blob’s shouting.

Finally, the shouting stopped. A piercing buzz from the front desk interrupted Sara’s musings. A secretary pressed a button as she walked past with an arm load of paper, “Yes?”

“Send her in,” The Headmistress’ voice ordered.

The secretary waved Sara in, too busy to let the girl in herself. Sara opened the door slowly, revealing a strange scene. The Headmistress sat fuming behind her desk, glaring at the man to her right clad in a priest’s uniform like the Father outside. He was tall and gaunt, looking much like a cross between Christopher Lee and Max Von Sydow only stockier, his glaring eyes hard as ice. The other figure was a short, ancient-looking, Asian man wearing rich red and gold silks girded with gold jewellery. He stopped playing with his thin white moustache the moment Sara entered the room, then promptly dropped to one knee, “Iä! IäKellith! Dakeit-cthoagna’nachahazoiz’wlli! Iä!”

Sara froze. The blood drained from the gaunt priest’s already pale face, his eyes bugging out of his head, “D-DON’T SAY THAT HERE!”

The Asian man remained kneeling, waiting. Sara closed the door and licked her lips, trying to remember the words. She didn’t have to, they came unbidden into her mind, “Mifruzli ‘ognakotht’egnanyulzhor ‘sal.”

The sorcerer smiled gratefully as he raised himself to his feet, “Thank you, mistress, my bones are not as strong as they used to be.”

Headmistress Carson cleared her throat pointedly, “Sara, I would like you to meet the Most Righteous Reverend Darren Englund from Whately’s Board of Trustees. It appears that you already know High Sorcerer Mifruzli of the Cult of Gothmog.”

Sara blinked, absently rubbing the stylized inverted triangle rune on her forehead, “Uh, no, not at all. Dad blessed me with my mark back during the Cthul debacle, but he seems to have passed on a lot more than I thought.”

“BLESSED!” The Reverend barked, outraged, “Your very existence is a curse! You are a blight on this school and its reputation! The Board demands this… this… THING’S immediate expulsion from both the classroom and the grounds!”

Mifruzli smiled benignly, folding his hands underneath the sleeves of his volumous robe, “As I said before, this excellent school’s charter does not permit the expulsion of a student on the basis of religious or political views. The letters of support I have brought with me clearly state the situation if Sara is not allowed to continue her studies. Not to mention my organization’s generous offer as well.”

Englund snarled, about to start into another tirade before Carson leapt to her feet. “SILENCE! Please maintain your decorum, Reverend. Now.” She pulled a piece of paper out from under the stack on her desk. It was yellowed and fine, written in a flowing hand with a coat of arms sealed in wax at the bottom of the page, “See this? This is a letter from the Wallachian Embassy. It came via diplomatic pouch directly from the Prince’s palace and has been written by his own hand. Do you want to know what it says?”

The Reverend crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, his lips pressed thin against each other.

The Headmistress placed the letter carefully in front of her, clearing her throat, “To Headmistress Carson, Principal of Whateley Academy, New Hampshire. We are distressed at the current news from our American Embassy that certain elements in the Board of Trustees are threatening the continuation of a singularly promising student’s tenure at Whateley. We are most upset at this sorry state of affairs and, in keeping with the bylaws and charter of the Academy, we urge the administration not to give in to slanderous political and religious pressure. Our own influence will be brought to bear on the Board, though I would like to state to you our intention to not only discontinue our contributions if the expulsion of Sara Waite succeeds, but that legal proceedings will begin in order to recuperate previous contributions as well. We apologize that the situation has devolved so far that we feel these measures must be taken in order to uphold the integrity and purpose of such a fine and noble institution. We hope and pray that Sara Waite will not be inconvenienced in any way over this petty matter. Yours sincerely, Lord Paramount, Prince of Wallachia.”

The silence lay thickly over the room, not even a fly dared break the mood. The Reverend started to mutter under his breath, rubbing his temples, “I don’t see that this is any of Paramount’s business, this is strictly a matter for the Board and the Administration.”

“I beg to differ,” Carson disagreed, “Lord Paramount is but ONE of the contributors that have sent me letters or called in person over this matter. They all feel that Whateley’s notorious and much lauded impartiality and neutrality is under threat. If I so much as move her over to Hawthorne, I will have more than a dozen lawsuits on my desk the same afternoon. Not that I would anyway, Darren, this goes far beyond your vendetta.”

“She is EVIL, Elizabeth. I put to you that this goes far beyond the neutrality of Whateley. It is a matter of principle.”

Mifruzli coughed, “Pardon me, but I object to your judgment of our sect. Who are you to determine good and evil? Some of what you see as good, I see as evil. Casting my mistress out of your school for no good reason is only the first.”

“She is a Class X entity,” Englund pointed accusingly, “the methods and motives of the Outer Gods are undoubtedly evil. Her guilt is therefore mandated by her existence.”

“Guilt and innocence,” Mifruzli retorted, “is a matter of choice. Though she stands accused of existence, I have yet to hear accusations of a criminal nature. You might as well accuse the bees as guilty of buzzing or fish guilty of swimming than to accuse the Outer Gods for being what they are. Your own existence may offend me, but I do not wish to become your executioner for such a petty reason.”

Englund scowled, “She’s already been banned from the science department, quite a feat for a freshman who has only been here for a matter of weeks. She is also a murderer, three times over if her profile is accurate!”

“So are approximately 20% of the student body, Darren,” Carson chuckled, “Sara’s one of the quiet ones. Security reports say she hasn’t harmed a soul since her arrival, even when her friends were involved in a brawl with the Alphas. Say, aren’t you a wanted man yourself over in Europe?”

“Those charges are complete fabrications and gross distortions of the truth.”

“With all due respect,” Mifruzli interrupted again with a sardonic smile, “they cannot be both.”

Englund dismissed him with a wave, “You know what I mean.”

“Not that it matters either way,” the Headmistress gathered the papers into a stack and dropped them all into her out tray, “I am lifting the ban on Sara from the science department this morning and I will accept the donation from the Cult of Gothmog. I will also be keeping Sara here at Whateley. She WILL stay at Poe and I will be replying to all the concerned parents and contributors stating that under no condition will she be expelled unless, like other students, she proves to be an actual danger to the student body. Now, if you would be so kind, Reverend?”

He stood defiantly, not budging an inch, “What about my men?”

“As I said before, a security detail will accompany them at all times to ensure that they do not approach within fifty feet of the buildings or interfere in any way with any student’s activities. Now, please leave.”

Reverend Englund didn’t even bother to look at Sara as he stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Sara gulped, taking a seat across the desk from the Headmistress, “Ah, Headmistress, what is all this?”

Carson sighed and sat down, Mifruzli taking his own seat, “Reverend Englund is the self appointed protector of the students here at Whateley, and the world at large, from the threat of supernatural beings. Usually he and I work hand in hand but on the issue of your student participation, we are of completely different opinions.”

“Your father,” Mifruzli added, “tries to undermine the mainstream churches, particularly on social issues such as sex and women’s rights. We view many of the constraints placed on humanity by Christian ideals as anathema, a method of political control rather than for truly beneficial social reform.”

“Please save the preaching for later, Mifruzli,” the Headmistress rebuked, “personally, I disagree with your Cult on a great many issues and I also question your intent. However, my beliefs are strictly personal and will never conflict with my professional duties. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Mifruzli smiled benignly.

“Good. Now, Sara, I want to assure you that there is no real threat that you will be expelled by the administration. The Academy exists solely because of our strict neutrality. Without it we wouldn’t last out the rest of this year. But that’s neither here nor there, I called you here for two reasons, so lets get the unpleasant one out of the way first.”

The Headmistress opened the top draw of her desk, pulled out a stapled sheaf of paper and dropped in front of Sara, “This is the complaint filed against you by Dr. Matthews, supported by the head of the science department and administration. It lists a string of several disturbing events that unfolded over the course of the last few days. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Sara looked at the floor in shame, “I-I’m sorry.”

“At least nothing further came of it,” Carson sighed, “Dr. Matthews is livid and the research branch is backing him up. I can lift the ban on you entering Kane Hall, but the science department is adamant. Half the faculty want you expelled, the other half refuse to teach you. The more moderate and understanding teachers feel that they can’t actually teach you anything you don’t already know in the basic courses, and the advanced courses are really only for those designated as devisors or gadgeteers, with very few exceptions. Aside from that, the advanced science courses conflict with the magical strand in your timetable. I am recommending, along with Dr. Bellows, that you drop the majority of your courses and take up the accelerated magical learning thread, which will leave you with powers lab, hacking theory, principles of magic, music and martial arts as tertiary choices alongside at least a half day of work with a mentor. How do you feel about that?”

It only took a moment for Sara to consider, “You’re right. I think it’s for the best.”

“Very good. It will take some time to reschedule your classes and find an appropriate mentor for your rather unique talents, however both ARC and the Cult of Gothmog have pledged their own resources to the task. I have faith that between the two groups they will discover a pre-eminent candidate.”

Mifruzli bowed his head slightly in Sara’s direction.

“Now, the second reason,” Carson continued, “your father has asked the highest ranking member of his cult to deliver to you a few items, which I have approved for your use. Normally, I wouldn’t allow this, but your father’s Cult has been very accommodating and candid in this matter.”

Sara nodded, glancing at the strange old man across from her. His understanding smile never seemed to waver even when he spoke, “It is a pleasure to work with you, Headmistress.”

“Yes, yes, you can save the pleasantries,” Carson dismissed him with an airy wave, “Due to your current hiatus and the injustices done to you in this matter, I am also taking you off detention. If you could do us both a very big favour and lie low for the next week or two, I am sure everyone would appreciate it. Now, you two have a lot to discuss. We’ll talk later.”

Mifruzli rose before Sara had a chance to move, opening the door and picking up a heavy gold coffer from the floor with his other hand, “Allow me, mistress.”

Sara blushed as she stepped through, the ancient High Priest bowing humbly as she passed.

“Oh, Sara?”

Sara turned back to the Headmistress.

“Be careful.”

The demon girl nodded uncertainly before continuing on her way. Mifruzli thanked the Headmistress once again before closing the door firmly shut behind them.

The Most Reverend Darren Englund motioned for the much younger Very Reverend Zachariah Moon to follow him as he strode swiftly across the grounds back towards his office, “Call everyone. I want the Goobers to track her day and night. Give Nightbane the official green light. Contact Marion and tell her what she needs to do. Open negotiations with Hartford. I will speak to Totem again, hopefully he’ll listen to reason this time.”

Hank rubbed his jaw while Tennyo slurped down her second glass of orange juice, “I cannot believe you sucker punched me.”

Chaka chuckled as Jade bopped him over the head with a chicken drumstick. “Serves you right for peeping,” the little girl admonished, “but I wanna know how she sucker punched you, aren’t you supposed to be invulnerable?”

Hank look suspiciously at Tennyo, who shrugged, accidentally setting even her restrained breasts to wobbling pleasantly, “Don’t look at me, I don’t know.”

“Seriously guys, what’s up?” Chaka broke in, “Who could sneak in and ram a stake through Sara, then slip outside without being detected?”

Phase stirred her coffee absently, “Someone at once very skillful, yet really dumb.”

Fey and Phase looked at each other. “Tansy Walcutt,” they nodded in unison.

Jade shook her head, “No way, not Tansy’s style at all.”

“She could be working through an intermediary again, y’know?” Chaka mused, “Trying to get back in with the Alphas.”

“Like they’d ever take her back.” Jade snorted in disgust.

“Jade’s right, you know,” Ayla agreed, “word is that Tansy’s this close to worm food herself, she’s been lying low trying not to give Hekate an excuse to voodoo her into oblivion.”

“Nah,” Tennyo disagreed, “Tansy’s folks will pull her out of Whateley before she gets whacked… hang on, Gumby approaching at 10 o’clock.”

He looked fourteen but his expression made him seem older, with immaculately combed brown hair that resembled a 50’s style g-man. With the dawn light behind him, his silhouette did indeed resemble the green plasticine doll as Tennyo suggested.

“Hi. You’re Team Kimba, right? Mind if I sit here a moment?” He sat without waiting for anyone’s ascent, “Things were a real mess out there this morning, hey?”

Chaka shifted in her seat, “Who the hell are you?”

The boy smiled, “My friends call me Nobody. Weird codename, hey? Where’s Sara? Usually she sits with you for breakfast.”

“Maybe I better rephrase the question,” Chaka bared her teeth, “What the hell are you?”

“The question you should be asking is ‘what the hell is Sara?’ Do you have any idea what she’s capable of? Have you been having any weird dreams lately? Do you know what she’s doing at night?”

Fey squirmed in her seat. Jade glared, “She’s our friend. That’s all I need to know.”

“Oh, I see, a friend. Are you sure about that? Don’t you think it’s a little strange how easily she made friends with you the first day she was here at Whateley? Have any of you been getting any headaches or unusual nosebleeds?”

Tennyo stopped eating. Hank stood, grabbing the kid by the back of his neck hard enough to make him flinch, “Jade why don’t you go sit next to Chaka. Nobody, come over here at sit between me and Tennyo.”

“Tannyo and I,” Nobody wheezed. Hank did his best to look friendly while they switched seats. He noticed a group of Goths eyeing them from a table on the other side of the hall, a reptile-boy flicked his forked tongue in and out several times, tasting the air. Tennyo draped an arm over Nobody’s shoulder while Hank kept hold of his hand discreetly under the table, “Now, why don’t you tell us what all this is about?”

“I just thought you ought to know that’s all,” Nobody sweated.

“Know what?”

“Your new friend is a demon princess. She’s come to earth to drive you all insane and drag you back to her world.”

“Why would you think that?” Jade snorted.

“Hey, hello, she’s a demon! Case closed. No-one can know what those things think or why. They don’t need what or why. They just do. Sara is the direct descendent of Shub-Niggurath.”

Chaka grabbed the kid by his collar, “Shrub What? What was that second word?”

“Shub-Niggurath,” Fey calmed her friend, “one of the three Outer Gods of the Mythos, equal only to Azathoth the Daemon Sultan and Yog-sothoth.”

Nobody nodded, “The Cult of Gothmog have been looking for her for years because she’s the one that’s supposed to give rise to the new race that will supplant humans, like the Shoggoths supplanted the Elder Race before us.”

It was Fey’s turn to be incredulous, “You’ve got to be kidding. The Old Ones were stopped once in their conquest of Earth. We can do it again.”

Nobody grinned, “Oh really? Haven’t you wondered why she chose your little group out of so many? Can you honestly say that none of you have felt the slightest twinge of lust in her presence? She’ll start her campaign slowly at first, of course, you probably haven’t felt her influence yet. But one of these nights you’ll start dreaming about her doing things to you and it will feel so good that you won’t want her to stop. Then the sleepwalking will start and one morning you’ll wake up in her bed, belly swollen with her unholy seed…”

Tennyo punched him surreptitiously in the stomach, but her hand simply passed through Nobody as if he were a mere illusion. Fey fought to keep her breathing steady, setting her face in a defiant mask. The boy grinned, standing up through the chair and out of their grasp, “Maybe that’s enough for today. If you ever decide to come to your senses, try to find me. Just ask for my name around campus, people usually know where I am.”

He started to walk off, leaving his tray behind, but paused, turning back to their table. “Oh, you might want to ask Sara where she’s been all morning. Her answer could prove illuminating. I’d watch her as well,” he pointed at Jade, “I think she’s already under the demon bitch’s spell. Toodleoo.”

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, even the tray and notebook were gone from where they’d been left on the table.

“Astral projection,” Fey identified with a scowl, “Nobody indeed. We’ve just been talking to thin air for the last five minutes.”

Hank flexed his hand, “Hang on, I touched him…”

Fey and Chaka shook their heads. “He made you think you did.” Fey explained.

“Could there be anything to what he said?” Phase returned to stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“No way.” Jade shook her head, “Sara’s not the type to… to… well, ok, she is the type, but her Dad is a demon of lust.”

“Exactly, and so is she,” Phase pointed out with her plastic spoon, “how much do we really know Sara? She locks herself in her room day and night. What is she doing down there when we’re not around?”

“Studying. She’s only just caught up. She did miss two weeks of school, you know,” Jade defended her friend.

Hank scratched his chin, “Fey, how much do you know about this Mythos stuff?”

Fey shivered, “A bit more than most people. I’d rather not talk about it, and believe me you’d rather not know. Mythos creatures are unknowable by mortals, you simply don’t have the correct wiring to understand their motives, thought patterns or even to communicate with them on a similar level.”

“Is it possible that Sara’s one of them?” Hank asked, getting back to the point.

“Who knows?” Fey shrugged, “Anything is possible as far as the Outer Gods are concerned.”

“I don’t believe it!” Jade crossed her arms over her chest, “Sara’s been nothing but a good friend to all of us!”

“If what Nobody said is true, that would make sense,” Ayla muttered, “You heard her as well as we all did back at the altar: Hands off, they’re mine. Did any of that sacrifice stuff seem a bit too coincidental to you guys?”

They looked at each other.

“This coming from the only person who wasn’t there,” Jade reminded them, “I say we should all stop worrying about Sara and concentrate on our real enemies. I bet you all a hundred to one that she’s in the Headmistress’ office right now sorting out the problem with her timetable and the fact that she’s a Demon Princess has nothing to do with it!”

“Of course, the fact that you are a Demon Princess will inevitably complicate your affairs here at Whateley,” Mifruzli eased himself into a plush chair, “the Most Righteous Reverend Darren Englund and his society will be only one of the groups opposing you, supported by conservative religious interests.”

Sara gulped again, trying to remind her body each time that she didn’t really need saliva anymore, “Er… yes, I imagine so.”

They sat in a conference room on the lower level of the admin building, surrounded by dark, polished, hardwood furniture and red leather chairs. Silver surmounted the mantelpiece of the bricked up fireplace, replaced by ducted air conditioning in recent years that emitted a constant low hum.

The High Priest regarded Sara for a moment, pausing to reflect, “I can’t believe that you are finally here in front of me.”

“I-I don’t…” Sara avoided his gaze, feeling uncomfortable. The gold box resting on the table between them looked normal to a cursory examination, but up close the carvings and embossed figures etched into the gold were moderately disturbing yet strangely attractive. Mifruzli caught the direction of her glance, “Ah, yes. You can feel the box, can’t you? It is very special, your father placed it in my possession soon after your birth. It is magically keyed to the very fibre of your being, body and spirit. You can read the inscription?”

“Iä! IäKellith! Dakeit-cthoagna’nachahazoiz’wlli! Iä!” Sara whispered, “Roughly translated: Hail Kellith, Daughter of the Eternal Void.”

Midruzli smiled, “Your father always knew that you existed but we could never find his precious daughter. Despite his own fecundity, in the thousands of years since his birth he could never bring himself to impregnate any of his lovers until he met your mother. Now, he cannot still because of the very memory of her. You will be his only child until the end of eternity.”

“He does seem the sentimental type,” Sara chuckled shyly, rubbing her fingers over the engravings of tentacles that entwined themselves around the lid.

“Gothmog is lust tempered by love,” Mifruzli explained, “a union of the inhuman with the human. You must realize that you are closer to the Outer Gods than even it appears.”

Sara blinked, “What do you mean? My cells… my body is relatively human. My mother was human…”

“That is where you are wrong,” Mifruzli interrupted, “She was not completely. Ephraim Waite was in the process of becoming something other than human when your Great Grandmother was born and his wife was not of the human world. Did you ever notice your mother’s slightly protuberant eyes? The blood of Cthulhu’s children also runs in your veins. You may look fairly human but you will eventually come to understand that you are not like us at all.”

The sorcerer paused, pointing out his wrinkles, “Age will never be a boundary to you, the children of the Old Ones are immortal. The powers you have gained at the present will be nothing compared to those that you will develop. You can bend or break a mortal’s sanity at will. You already control their base desires. Your rule over the psychic realm will be uncontested by all but the most powerful of creatures.”

Sara closed her eyes, “A month ago, I wrote stories like this.”

“The boundary between fact and fiction is thin,” Mifruzli sighed, “merely a step away beyond the boarder of dreams and the lost land of Kadath. But enough of such things. Your father ordered me to take your holdings in hand, but unfortunately I was unable to secure your house and most of its contents. I did, however, rescue this…”

He pulled several photographs out of his robe, illustrating a pile of old books more than six feet high.

“The Waite Collection!” Sara gasped.

Mifruzli smiled, “Yes, a most extensive selection of tomes. They are being kept in trust by the Cult in a private vault in Switzerland, they are yours as soon as you are ready to claim them.”

“I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I’ve been worried sick. Like losing a member of the family.” Sara stroked the photograph, remembering nights long ago curled up with his mother in front of the fireplace as she read to his favourite bedtime stories from the Necronomicon, or whispered to him the strangely comedic King in Yellow as he drifted off to sleep.

Mifruzli reached over to pat the golden box, “I have another present for you, as well, from your father.”

He unlatched the lid and pried the gold coffer open, revealing a thick, heavy, tome bound with some sort of leather. Sara lifted it out easily, a warm, sympathetic, feeling tingling up her arms. She opened the featureless cover to the title page. “The Tablets of Gothmog,” she translated the Egyptian runes.

“Yes, the oldest and most precious text of our faith. One of my predecessors transcribed this in 1471. Half of it is in Egyptian and there is an Old English translation of those sections, however,” the sorcerer turned a few pages, revealing sections written in other runes that seemed to twist and writhe on the page, “the truly interesting sections had to be inscribed by your father’s own hand.”

Sara was fascinated. Her eyes widened, unblinking, as the runes unfolded their meanings across space and time. Her mind tingled as complete understanding wormed its way into her consciousness. She turned the page, hungry for more.

Mifruzli smiled benignly as his mistress devoured the book.

Things had not gone well for the Whateley Martial Arts Cheering Squad in the weeks after the ‘sacrifice’. Patricia considered washing the football team’s laundry for a whole month as a simply unfair punishment. It may have been alright if the players had all been human, but squeezing the jam that accumulated in Rotgrub’s gym socks was one of those indignities that she felt did not befit the Yellow Queen at all.

Which was why she left the job to Bee.

“URGH!” Kelly grimaced, making sure the peg on her nose was tight, “Skid marks!”

“Don’t worry,” Patricia gritted her teeth as she scrubbed at a bloodstain on the jacket of number 94, “one of these days, I swear we’ll get that bitch!”

Little Bee grimaced, the petite blonde wincing at the squelching sound that Rotgrub’s lime green toe jam made between her heavy rubber gloves, “Oh, come on sis. Why don’t we just leave well enough alone.”

Pat flicked her sister with water from the scrubber, “And just how do you think we’ll ever get accepted by the Alphas with that attitude, huh?”

Ginger chuckled, “You won’t anyway, you know. Not even if the two of you double team Don Sebastiano.”

“Oh, shut up!” Pat scowled while her subordinates snickered behind their hands.

“I’d listen to them if I were you.”

Pat turned slowly to face the Amazon freak from Poe. Hippolyta stood blocking the sunlight in the doorway, filling the frame with her bulk.

“Ah, ha… ha… Hippie,” Pat stammered, trying to give her a friendly chuckle, “what brings you down here?”

Hippolyta stalked over to the blonde, grabbing an empty tin can in one hand on her way past the sink. “I heard that you’ve been annoying a friend of mine. And my name is Hippolyta,” the golden haired girl crushed the can into her fist, “remember?”

Pat chuckled stupidly, sweating profusely, “Um, OK, Hippolyta! Not that I would ever even think of hurting a friend of yours.”

Hippolyta grabbed the girl by her apron and turned her upside down, holding her over the dirty water, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I-I… I…”

“Maybe its because you’re a dirty little liar? What do you think?”

“I-I I’m not lying, Hippolyta! Anything you want! Anything! Just let me go!”

Hippolyta smiled, “OK. I believe you.” She then dropped the prissy cheerleader into the dirty water and walked back out the door.

Bee and Kelly pulled Pat up to the surface, sopping wet, “Why that ugly, no good, muscle-bound, brainless, stupid, ugly, she-male!”

Unfortunately, Hippolyta was still standing just outside. The Amazon stepped back in.

The sycophants parted ranks from around their whimpering leader as Hippolyta idly picked up one of Rotgrub’s as yet unsqueezed gym socks between her thumb and forefinger, holding it in front of her as she approached. Pat trembled as a desperate feeling of dread washed over her, the sock coming ever closer, the harbinger of her doom.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOmrph.” Her scream echoed across the fields, cut off before it could reach its peak.

Sara grinned as she leant back from the table, feeling a little light headed. Mifruzli closed the lid of the golden box, still smiling. “It is nice to see that you are pleased, mistress.”

“I… woah,” Sara rubbed her eyes, “I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”

“Nothing, mistress,” Mifruzli reassured her, “you were just reading. Disorientation is natural for the first time one views the script of the Outer Gods, it takes time for the mind to adjust. Don’t worry, your father told me that you may need a little while to assimilate, everything will become clear, eventually.” Sara noticed absently that the High Sorcerer’s speech had a strange lilt to it, as if his mouth were unused to shaping words. “Your father has ordered us to see to your needs. A small sum of money will be placed in your account and will be replenished to that amount at the end of each month. For the time being, I will be staying in Dunwich. If you need anything, call me on this number.”

He handed her a card, a long series of symbols scrawled across one side, “It’s an encrypted channel, so it should be safe from eavesdroppers. Please be careful, mistress.”

The symbols blurred for a moment as Sara peered at them intently, then suddenly she could understand their meaning perfectly. It was a simple algorithmic substitution code, the symbols representing letters and numbers across several different languages. Her mind simply filled in the gaps.

Surprised, Sara kissed him on the cheek, lifting the heavy golden box easily in one hand as they stood, “Thank-you, I will.”

“Oh, by the way,” the old man scratched his white goatee, “some of the faithful may try to… contact you themselves. I hesitate to mention this, but I must beg your forbearance and patience. I personally dislike fanatics of any stripe, but when one is the focus of a religion…”

Sara blinked, “Hold on, back up. I don’t have a Cult yet, hell I don’t know if I want one…”

“But you already do,” Mifruzli interrupted, “your father has been putting a good word in for you in the family business for the last 25 years. It surprises even I just how popular the Cult of Kellith is, considering that we didn’t even know where you were.”

Sara turned to face the Sorcerer straight on, “How many cultists are we talking about here?”

He made some show of counting them out on his fingers, “Approximately… 100,000 known members. Give or take a few thousand.”

“One… hundred…” Sara gasped, suddenly feeling a little ill.

“This is to be expected, as a Demon Princess of Lust and considering your illustrious bloodline of sorts… maybe that should be ichorline? Anyhow, considering your parentage there was already an existing base of worshippers. Quite a few already think of you as the antithesis of Cthulhu, holding you as the High Priest of Shub-Niggurath.”

“WHAT!?!”

He shrugged, “Religious minds like to order their pantheons. When a new element is introduced, a place must be found for it in the established hierarchy.”

“What I want to know,” Sara snarled, “is why I’m a member of the pantheon in the first place. I’m only part demon.”

“Perhaps the answer to that question can wait,” Mifruzli fidgeted with the sleeves of his robe, “Can you at least promise me to humour any supplicants that may seek your blessing in the days ahead?”

Sara sighed and nodded. What else could she do?

Mifruzli kissed the rune on Sara’s forehead reverently before watching her walk back towards administration, still smiling despite their disagreement. She pulled her mask up over her mouth before turning the corner and out of sight, his strangely comforting aura dissipating like fog under a quick breeze.

Sara glanced at the clock on the wall as she passed. The Demon Princess stopped and looked again.

11:45.

She shut her eyes for a minute and looked once more.

11:46.

She broke into a run, sprinting across the grounds towards Crystal Hall and the cafeteria, the religious mob shouting at her from across the picket line Security had formed exactly 50 feet away.

Skidding to a halt before collecting herself enough to coolly open the door and enter, Sara tried to contain both her excitement and hunger. The woman behind the counter took one look at her and heaved a caged Dalmatian up onto the bench, “Missed breakfast, didn’t ya?”

Sara nodded absently, wondering where exactly they were getting these dogs as she grasped the cage in her other hand, giving a polite thanks to the woman as she swept past.

Team Kimba had assembled at their regular table, Toni laughing with her usual gusto. The demon-girl sauntered over and dropped her baggage onto the floor, sliding into the last seat, “What a morning! You guys won’t believe this.”

The conversation stopped dead.

Sara looked at them all, but they couldn’t meet her gaze, “Uh, guys? Is everything OK?”

Toni shook herself, “Yeah, we’re alright. We just… er… we just…” The black girl took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts, “Look someone was asking about you this morning at breakfast. Trying to warn us off from getting close to you.”

Sara glanced at the rest of the group, who looked down at their plates. Tennyo just kept on eating while Jade glared angrily at her food, “I see. Student or teacher?”

“Student,” Toni confirmed.

Sara didn’t bother opening the cage, she just thrust her hand through the wire and plunged her claws into the Dalmatian’s chest, killing and draining it instantly. Fey winced and tried to block her ears. Sara was getting good at draining things, though, after a month of practice. The dog didn’t even have time to feel any pain. “I almost got expelled this morning.”

There was a collective double take from everyone at the table. Even Tennyo stopped eating with half a rasher of bacon lolling out of her mouth. Sara told them a story, not the whole story obviously, starting with her arrival at the Headmistress’ office to leaving with Mifruzli. She left out the gold box, the cult and most importantly the… thing back in her room. All that could wait.

“Englund again,” Fey scowled.

“What’s this?” Sara glanced at the rest of the group, trying to read their expressions.

“We met while you had your head stuck in a book a week or so ago,” Toni chuckled, “he’s got some cajones to take on Carson in her own office.”

“It starts to explain that guy at breakfast," Jade added, “he obviously has it in for you, Sara. Trying to tell us that all you wanted was to… er, well.”

The little girl stopped, blushing furiously.

“To what?” Sara scratched her head, perplexed.

“To impregnate us,” Hank bulled through, saying the words fast enough that he didn’t have time to think about them, “with the intention of replacing humanity with your own spawn.”

Fey coughed uncomfortably. Sara looked at them all for a moment then broke out into hysterical laughter, “You didn’t honestly believe that, did you?”

They weren’t laughing. Jade glared at them all, Ayla looked a bit sheepish.

“They’ve been talking about nothing else all morning,” Jade scowled, “I was happy to get to Bio and away from it all.”

Sara rested her head in the palm of her hand, “You know, if I ever do decide to have children, I wonder if everyone will be calling them my ‘spawn’. Can you imagine dropping them off to preschool? Hi Betty, hey Dave, just dropping my spawn off, how are yours? Oh good. Watch out for Spot, Nathan, don’t let him get too close. Oh, and kids, no tentacles today or I’ll put you to bed without Mr. Kittles for supper.”

Toni snorted, “Mine would be running up the walls, leaving muddy footprints on the paint. Drive the janitor crazy.”

“I don’t think it will be a problem,” Hank grinned, “there won’t be any preschool left after Fey and Tennyo’s children enrol.”

The two inhumanly powerful girls gave him death stares of equal intensity.

“Oh, yeah, Mr. smart-aleck,” Tennyo growled, “just what about your kids, punching holes in the walls for fun? One of Toni’s kids could trip over the potholes, you know!”

“At least my kids would be sensible enough to go invulnerable every day before class,” Ayla chuckled, “they’d break their chairs every time they sat down, but at least they’d be safe from the other rowdies.”

Things devolved from there, but the feeling of guilt was well and truly broken by the time lunch started to wind down. Most students tried to get a ten minute head start on the rush to class. Team Kimba was no exception. Sara hung back while Jade pulled Jinn’s costume out of her backpack, the jocularity hadn’t spread to the little girl at all. “Are you OK?”

Jade sighed, “I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids of my own. I-I just don’t know.”

Sara slid over into the chair next to her, “I’m sure you will, one day.”

Jade looked up slightly at her, tears starting to well up under her eyelids. Sara could see the dirty brown of fear swirling through her aura, conflicting with the warm yellow of hope, “You think so?”

“I know so,” Sara grinned, “Turquoise and Amber could haunt the whole neighborhood as Handkerchief and Doily, the miniature ghosts.”

Jade giggled, her tears forgotten, “Oh, you’re just being silly. Hey, are you OK? You look a little purple in the face.”

Sara patted her cheeks in surprise. She did feel a little hot…

“It’s nothing, I’m just a little out of sorts after this morning, is all. Come on,” Sara patted the golden box, “If Jinn and I run, we can make it to my room and Jinn’ll get back to Powers Lab in a jiff. What do you say?”

“Deal!” Jade recharged Jinn into her Shroud costume in a moment, and the two tireless girls were off.

“See what I mean?” Ayla whispered.

“What?” Fey asked, not understanding.

The she-male rolled her eyes, “She may have made fun of it, but she didn’t really deny it, did she?”

Toni shook her head, “Sure she did, what do you think ‘you’re not serious’ means?”

“Oldest trick in the book,” Ayla retorted, “politics 101, how to say something without actually saying it. She was putting our suspicions back on us, changing the subject.”

“Come on, we got to get to class. Try not to be so paranoid.”

“We’ve got to get to class, Toni,” Fey corrected as they started off again.

“Someone’s got to be,” Ayla mumbled behind their backs.

“…Can’t we put that aside for a moment, Charlie?” Darren Englund begged desperately into the telephone on his office desk.

He listened to his old friend’s answer.

“She’s one of THEM, Charlie, one of the ones that took her.”

The voice on the other end started to yell.

“THIS ISN’T ABOUT US! Please, I’m begging you, help me cast her back to the abyss that spawned her.”

There was a pause, a final rebuke, then Charlie hung up.

Reverend Englund sighed, lowering the phone back onto the hook. He buried his face in his hands, “Why don’t they see? Can’t they tell what it is? How can they be so blind?”

Moon gingerly knocked on the inside of the door, poking his head into the office, “Reverend? Nightbane is here to see you now.”

Englund gathered himself together and nodded, “Very well, send her in.”

Zachariah opened the door fully, holding it for a honey blonde 16 year old schoolgirl with a short haircut and a brisk attitude. Her uniform, however, was immaculate, the sword slung across her back wrapped in black cloth for safety and protection.

“Has Zachariah given you your mission?” Englund questioned.

“Ah, yeah,” she pouted, “but, well, the funny thing is that I’ve already had a crack at it.”

“You what?” Englund groaned, too depressed to yell.

“Well, I’d been hearing all about this vampire on campus and I haven’t actually killed a vampire yet and I sorta got excited and I started stalking her and this morning I took my shot,” The young ‘slayer’ spoke nervously.

“What happened?”

“Er… nothing. The little so-and-so just wouldn’t die. I stabbed her through the heart with Mr. Pointy and left it in like you said. Nada. So I took a leaf from Dracula and cut off her head and it just kept growing back. She didn’t even twitch a muscle, so I couldn’t even fight her a bit.”

Englund held his head in his hands, “Oh, Lord, why me? What were you able to learn from her metabolism? Any weaknesses?”

Nightbane considered, “Well, she has this really weird body. I couldn’t make out half of her biorhythms, but her blood has this strange yellow-y stuff in it that seems to carry the life force she drains. I also felt that she had a bit of a vulnerability to blessed objects, but my sword was useless.”

“Hmmmm…” Englund considered, “All right, I’m still going to give you a shot. I want a full turnout, Code X, all Goobers are to support you however they can. I am relying on you, do not fail me.”

Nightbane nodded.

“Now,” Englund continued, “What word from the esteemed Ms. Hartford?”

Zachariah unfolded a small note from his pocket, “Hartford is streamlining several inconvenient documents and making sure that the Science department tows the line. I have an appointment with Matthews this afternoon, by the way. She has also fabricated an anomaly in the Library system that will help Marion complete her mission and assures Alpha support, though with the provision that they not take an active participation in any pitched battles.”

Englund nodded, “Accepted. What will it cost me?”

“Nothing,” Moon smiled, “she’s eager to settle a few old grudges.”

“What about backup? Do we have any outside contacts we can trust with this?”

Zachariah lowered his head in thought, “The Vatican is still disgruntled over the incident in Munich. The MCO would take measures far too… drastic for our purposes. I could contact the Syndicate. They have been probing the region around Whateley since the summoning, maybe they would be interested in helping us for a small fee.”

Englund considered his options for a minute. The idea was against his better judgment.

“Do it.”

“HOLY SWEET LORD OF MERCY!” Jinn yelled at her highest volume.

“Shhhhhh!” Sara slapped her hand over what she thought was the spirit’s mouth. Instead, she slapped some sort of metal plate.

Jinn had just enough time for a shocked, “Oh dear,” before the bear trap snapped shut on the demon girl’s hand, severing it at the wrist.

The hand fell through Jinn’s cape and bounced once before coming to rest on the floor of Sara’s room. Things had changed a bit more since the morning, the runes on the wall starting to resemble the writing on Sara’s golden box, except they writhed and undulated as if written on the ocean rather than solid brick. The storm had arrived outside, dark clouds covered the sun while icy raindrops pounded the grounds.

“I’m sorry, are you OK?” Jinn grabbed Sara’s stump, watching the hand grow back in seconds.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but check that out,” Sara pointed to the hand that lay on the floor. It was still there.

“Hang on!” Jinn waved, trying not to look at the other thing on the desk behind her, “Didn’t you say that when you lose pieces of yourself, they disintegrate into black ash?”

Sara nodded, “That’s what I thought. Obviously, the rules have changed, I have no idea what’s going on.”

Jinn grabbed Sara’s shoulders, “Sara. I hate to be the one to tell you this but that’s your severed head sitting on the table there. I would have thought you’d be a little more FREAKED OUT!”

Sara grabbed Jinn’s ‘face’, “Jinn, that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. Now, if you think that’s weird, watch this.”

The severed head’s eyes snapped open, giving Jinn a friendly nod, “I can see and talk out of this thing too.”

Jinn started to shake slightly, Sara guided the construct onto the bed, “I’d offer you something to drink, but…”

The ghost girl smiled weakly, “I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again. Oh my God, how can I recombine with Jade, knowing this? Why didn’t you TELL SOMEONE?”

Sara’s severed head looked at Jinn, then down at the hand. After a moment, the hand twitched, hopping up onto the tips of its claws, and scuttled over to Sara. She picked it up and examined it, looking down the stump and tweaking the fingers, “I don’t know, really. Funny isn’t it, how the mind works sometimes?”

“NO! You have to tell someone, we have to get help, right now!”

“Jinn,” Sara smiled reassuringly, “I’m OK. In fact, I feel better than ever. Think about it, you and Jade are one and the same person, yet you can be in two different places at the same time. That’s pretty freaky too, you know.”

“But… well… you see… it’s… ARGH! OK! You’re right, but still…”

“Aren’t you going to be late for Lab?” Sara suggested hopefully.

Fortunately, it worked, Jinn wheeled around to check the alarm clock on Sara’s desk, “AH! But, are you sure you’re all right? Positive?”

Sara nodded patiently, “Positive. You go right ahead, I’m just going to meditate this afternoon. If I feel bad, I’ll get straight up to Dr. Bellows. How’s that sound?”

“Ok,” Jinn didn’t sound so sure. The wards on the walls were giving her the creeps, “We’ll talk more tonight when I outnumber you. See ya!”

Sara waved goodbye as the clothes ghost flitted out the window and disappeared into the storm. The Demon Princess sat heavily on her bed, the weight of the world seemed to rest on her shoulders. The heat inside her seemed to pulse with the writhing runes, her blood rushed through her temples in time with the beat. The combined sensation was pleasant, soothing the angry buzz that echoed in the back of her head.

Lying down, the strangeness of her new body started to hit home. The swell of her buttocks pressed against the mattress. The weight of her breasts, small as they were, shifting as she leant back. The ripple of tendril upon tendril underneath her skin rather than hard muscle and tendon. She absently probed the tip of her fangs with her tongue, cutting and healing, cutting and healing, over and over.

Turning onto her side, her hips provided another reminder of how things had changed, not to mention the smooth motion of her hairless thighs gliding over one another without the presence of her old manhood to obstruct their passage. Even with the dim light from the open window the room was dark, yet she could see every detail perfectly.

The last two weeks hadn’t given her much time for thought. If it hadn’t been schoolwork and study, it was those damn Alphas or that sexy new girl, Chou, or Dr. Bellows trying to stick his big nose into her business or Dr. Otto and his research team or Matthews and those gods blasted tests or Donna…

She shook herself, forcing the memories away. But as she did, new faces took her guardian’s place, the faces of Joe Mullins and Bob Thomas. And Gary, spitting blood into her face, lying in the mud. Bloodworm scuffling over the edge of the pit, falling into the Maw of Hell, reaching for her. A pang of guilt stabbed her through the heart, a sympathetic pain she realized must be purely psychological considering that she had regurgitated all her original organs some time ago. She remembered her heart skipping across the tiles of the morgue way back in Sydney.

The city where she had spent most of her youth seemed so shadowy and distant, another lifetime ago when she had been a he. She remembered taking walks through the streets of the CBD, CenterpointTower looming above as he toured the arcades. At this time of year, the stores would be gearing up for Christmas, even though it was almost three months away the spending hype would have already begun.

Trying not to think about Joe Mullins was hard. Of all the deaths caused by her hand, she regretted his the most. He was an innocent, caught in the crossfire between two factions he would never have heard of before in his life. If destiny didn’t exist, then the blame for that death fell squarely on her own shoulders. His pistol couldn’t have hurt her in a million years, with an unlimited supply of bullets. Of course, how could she have known that?

It begged the question, however, why had Joe Mullins died? Where was the sense in a boy dying in a battle he could barely comprehend? What was the meaning of it? Jade’s morbid curiosity still haunted her. What had happened when she’d died? Had she died? Was she still dead, just a shambling corpse animated by pure will? Or something else…

Dr. Otto had assured her that it was something else. “The soul,” she remembered the lecture the balding man had given after one of his weekly ‘visits’, “has been proven to exist by thurmaturgical equations and formulae, but it’s like the old Superstring debate. The math works but we can’t see it, so how can we know for sure it’s there? On the plus side, unlike superstrings, we can perform experiments, but Necromancy is still a controlled area of study under the Mutant Morality Guidelines Act, so progress is slow. But I can say for certain that you are not one of the Undead, despite your need for life force, because your biorhythms have not ceased. Your blood still circulates, pumped by tiny contractions on the cellular level.”

Sara grinned, remembering all the pains the research team had first taken to try to preserve a severed finger for analysis. Maybe now, they’d have more success…

She stopped herself from considering her other head any further. Just thinking about it made her see the darkness behind her second set of eyelids. Things were certainly getting strange these last few days and for some reason she knew that it was only going to get worse.

But that is for the future, Sara thought as she relaxed her muscles one by one, beginning to drop into her meditative trance, there are more important matters that must be solved now.

“What is in a name?” She whispered, counting herself down into the trance, “What is in a name?”

Kane Hall was a hotbed of activity. Gadgeteers and Devisors cranked, welded and clicked together a googleplex of insane machinery. Sparks routinely showered down from skywalks above, necessitating hardhats and flame retardant overalls. The Very Reverend Zachariah Moon strode confidently across the floor with only his faith to protect him. He stopped in front of a small group of students huddled over the target of his search, who was busy assembling a small, remote controlled, drag racer out of miscellaneous Lego parts while a friend scrutinized his stopwatch.

“DONE!”

“One minute and seven seconds! We have a winner and new champeen!” The boy with the stopwatch held up the target’s arm while money changed hands among the crowd, grins and groans shared alike by winners and losers.

“Ecto-tek,” Moon interrupted.

The boy stood, dusting his grey overalls off with some fanfare, “Sorry, guys, that’s it for today. Duty calls and all that.”

There were several more groans, but the crowd dispersed without incident. Moon beckoned for the boy to follow, handing him a dossier, “The team is on full alert status. The current details of the target are inside, but additional information should be collated by tonight.”

“A good thing too,” Ecto-tek snickered, “these school files are woefully inadequate.”

“The target has proven difficult to trace,” Moon coughed, “however, I have several guarantees that information will be forthcoming. Ostensibly, the team will be doing field research with myself and Reverend Englund on the properties of various spirit forms. As always, Nightbane will be field commander. You are second in command and I will be overseeing the operation. She can give you a better briefing as soon as you arrive at HQ.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ll be back later, there are some people I have to meet first.”

Moon considered the boy as they parted ways. Ecto-tek was a first class Gadgeteer, with specializations in energy fluctuation, physics and pattern theory, a ‘brain’ type if there ever were one, yet he retained a firm grounding in common sense that all too often his colleagues left behind. In other words, a perfect addition to the team.

The priest drew some attention as he wandered through the labyrinthine passages, slowly descending into the bowels of the building where the research division did their ungodly work. But today, he was not here to judge, so he kept his hands clasped behind his back and his lips firmly shut as he passed the labs and offices, approaching his goal.

Arriving, after a long search down a dull grey hallway lacking numbers or notices of any kind, the Very Reverend Zachariah knocked on the third door to his left as instructed. A moment later, he was ushered into the room by a spotty gentleman in a rumpled blue shirt with no tie, tucked into tweed trousers that were all the rage back in the seventies. Matthews didn’t bother to speak, he just handed over a brown cardboar