#one night she gets really drunk and starts to sleepwalk and her desires take over

[twiggystarrdust]

A bunch of things I just learned about gelflings

I just found this website with loads of information about the gelfling race that I JUST DIDNT KNOW so i had to share.

some i reckon are just fan theories, but hey, they fit pretty well.

anyway, let me know what you think of some of these points.

Astronomy, Biology, Psychology and Culture of the Gelfling.

n this article we shall briefly examine the main characteristics of Gelfing biology and culture, starting with their planet of Thra.

Astronomical characteristics

Thra is the world of the object formerly known as the Dark Crystal. It is a type-M planet, meaning capable of supporting humanoid life. It is similar to the earth in size, with an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and a great abundance of life forms. Thra circles three stars, one the "dying sun," a red dwarf star near the end of its life cycle. the second star, the "rose sun" is a class M red star. The third member of this stellar trilogy is a type G1 star, slightly larger than our own type G2 star.

Although inhabited planets orbiting triple-sun systems are quite rare due to the complexities of orbital mechanics, Thra is one of those rare planets where the complexities work out just right to allow the planet to maintain a relatively constant surface temperature.

The planet has three major continents. Alpha continent is the location of the Crystal Castle. Beta continent is located to the east, while Gamma continent is located to the west.

There is a relatively wide variety of biomes present, although the slightly warmer temperatures on Thra do not allow the presence of the Arctic-type biomes as found on earth. Swampland, Tropical Rain Forests, Temperate Deciduous Forests and Grasslands are the major biomes found on Thra. There is a season which approximates Earth's fall, but no winter season is present.

The vast majority of the planetary surface, some 83%, is made up of ocean. This compares to Earth's 75%-25% mix.

Gelfling evolution

Gelfling and Podling life forms arose on Alpha continent through normal evolutionary processes. Gelfling stand, in adult size, between three and four and a half feet tall. They possess four digits on hands and feet, a warm-blooded circulatory system and all other typical characteristics of intelligent humanoid life forms.

Examination of fossil life forms show an interesting lack of any large land predatory species such as the dinosaurs as found on the earth. Other than that major difference, Thra evolution has produced an extremely wide variety of life forms, perhaps even more different kinds then have been discovered on the earth.

Since the Gelfling society is based on a more harmonious living with their environment than Terran society, Thra has not suffered the ravages of wide-spread deforestation and massive building construction as has been present on the earth, nor has it suffered from any major pollution. Both these reasons have contributed to the continuing wide variety of life forms and the relatively low level of extinction on the planet (other than during the Dark Millennium).

Gelfling Biology

Birth Rate

The Gelfling possess a relatively low birth rate. They do not become capable of bearing children until they have reached their forties. Generally after bonding there would be a period of ten to twenty years before any children would be born. After that several children would be born within the next couple of decades; after that the rate of births tends to fall off. Typically a Gelfling female can bear ten to fifteen children during her life span.

The exception to the general rule was that of the Queens who, for some reason yet unknown, generally were able to bear children for a much longer period of time than the "average" Gelfling female; hence, some Queens had over twenty daughters.

Overpopulation has never become a severe problem with the Gelfling. It seems that the Gelfling live extremely close to the planet itself. A sort of feedback mechanism has been hypothesized between the environment and the female Gelfling which tends to limit the number of children born to a number that the environment can adequately feed and house.

Any period of widespread plague or disaster, for example, reduces the population considerably; consequently, there is always a considerable increase in the birthrate for a short time until the overall Gelfling population once again stabilizes.

Fertility

Fertility is controlled by the female Gelfling in some manner apparently intimately linked to the environment. When the environment alters in either a positive or a negative way, Gelfling fertility either increases or decreases. The exact mechanism behind this is not known at this time.

Sexual activity is quite common among Gelfling, yet unwanted births are virtually unknown, again indicating that the female has some form of control of whether or not she will become pregnant no matter how frequently she has sexual activity.

Bone Structure

The Gelfling possess a light bone structure, the females somewhat moreso than the males. The ability to fly, of course, would be impossible if the Gelfling possessed a heavy bone structure, so it is believed that the light bone structure and flying ability evolved together during the earliest part of Gelfling evolution.

Flight

The ability to fly is possessed only by female Gelfling. During the early years of Gelfling history females could make unassisted flight. During the Dark Millennium this ability to fly was gradually lost, resulting in the females being capable only of gliding. After the healing of the Great Crystal the ability to fly quickly returned.

Flight has two primary advantages to the female. First, the mating ritual involves an aerial dance and other activities in which the female performs a particularly sensuous aerial dance, enticing the male and generally leading to sexual activity and a strengthening of their bonding.

The second advantage is tactical. Females can explore wider areas, search for new food sources and, in some instances, actually do aerial artwork. The physical advantage over the male Gelfling was never exploited by the females, however, Such an exploitation was not within the real of thought for any Gelfling.

Mating Dance

The mating dance as the most intense sensual and sexual experience that a Gelfling can feel. It occurs only between deeply bonded pairs, and the female determines when the dance will occur. The female performs a preliminary dance during which she gradually removes her clothing. The normal pheromones the female produces increase strongly during this activity. After disrobing the female becomes airborne, performing an aerial ballet for her mate. During this activity the mate is virtually spellbound. After the aerial ballet the female lands, mounts her mate and begins actual sexual activity.

The session of sexual activity continues for a period of hours after which the mate ritualistically gently strokes the female's wings and both Gelfling fall asleep. Pregnancy as a result of the mating dance is estimated to be in the neighborhood of 93%, so a link between the dance and the reproductive drive is considered likely.

Lifespan

The average lifespan of a Gelfling is from 350 to 400 years. The ability to reproduce begins during the forties and extends for the next several decades, although having children even in later years is not totally unknown. The Gelfling remain physically vigorous and mentally alert until shortly before their death. Gelfling can somehow sense when their natural lifespan was near an end and they tend to approach their deaths with calm dignity.

Gelfling Psychology

Bonding

There are several levels of bonding, varying in intensity and length of effects. One level of bonding is through the process of dreamfasting. This can be done between two Gelfling or between a Gelfling and a Podling. This level tends to temporarily increase the psychic awareness of the bonding pair, establishing a mental link between them that will gradually decrease over time unless a deeper level of bonding is obtained.

The strongest level of bonding results in a bonding that will last throughout an entire lifetime. This can, on rare instances, begin during the first dreamfasting episode, as it did with Jen and Kira. The psychic bonds formed are intense and permanent and present in virtually every level of activity. A strong degree of telepathy is often established and, during the most intense sexual sessions a virtual unification of the minds of the two Gelfling takes place.

An extended familial bonding can also take place, increasing the strength of the family relationship in Gelfling society. This bonding also tends to last the entire lifetime of the individuals involved.

Should one of the two members of the strong pair-bonding die, some elements of the bonding will still remain, but a new bonding can still take place so that even the eldest of the Gelfling are still usually in some high level of pair-bond relationship.

Dreamfasting

Dreamfasting is an important means of communication amongst the Gelfling in that it allows a very deep sharing of personal experiences between them, taking place on a non-verbal level. Dreamfasting also varies in strength and can take place between two Gelfling, a Gelfling and a Podling, and perhaps between a Gelfling and Aughra, although no written evidence of this has yet been found. It is not a prerequisite to the strongest level of bonding but can lead to that level. It is an instinctual activity and cannot be "taught" or "improved upon." It helps to increase the ability of Gelfling to understand each other for, by understanding the background of the other Gelfling in such intimate detail, conflicts end up being minimized.

Family

The Gelfling are extremely family oriented. Once permanent bonding has taken place and the raising of a family has begun the close family structure becomes even closer. The Gelfling possess an extended-family structure and thus one tribe might be made up of a dozen or more families, each family with several generations of members.

The familial units have not led to any sense of territoriality, however, as happened in early human evolution. No one family is considered superior to another; delight is taken in differences of thought and abilities. Quarreling between families in general and family members in particular is virtually unheard of in Gelfling society. Care of children is seen as a family project in which Gelfling of all generations and both sexes take great delight.

General Gelfling psychology

The Gelfling are a very peaceful race that lives in complete harmony with the planet. Their greatest pleasures are in music, food, fun, love and sexual activity. No concepts of tribal superiority, sexual superiority or age superiority are present. The Gelfling considered all their surroundings to be alive and to be treated with the greatest of this respect. In this matter some of their behavior is not unlike that of many of the earlier Native American tribes.

Female Gelfling are extremely sensual in nature and are in some manner strongly psychically linked to the planet. Only females are healers and the healers could calm emotional disturbances as well as heal physical ills.

The "emotional disturbances" referred to problems arising from the loss of a bondmate and similar problems. No true "psychotic" Gelfling remained so for long, as several healers together, sometimes even involving the Queen as chief healer, would be able to restore the Gelfling to mental harmony. Even the worse of the psychotic cases that arose (and these were extremely few) realized, on an instinctual level, that they needed the aid of a healer and sought out such aid as soon as possible.

The abilities of the Gelfling males in the field of music are exceptional, and virtually all music is performed by male Gelfling.

The vast majority of the Gelfling bonding relationship occurs on the nonverbal level, and a description of their deepest psychological traits is beyond the ability of mere words to express. Much of Gelfling life is on a "felt" level rather than on a rational/logical level of understanding.

Sex

The Gelfling are an intensely sexual race, using sex as much as a means of communication as anything else. Sexual activity begins for the Gelfling when they enter their twenties. Until permanent bonding takes place sex can be with a wide variety of partners. Never during this time, however, is the mating ritual performed and no female Gelfling ever becomes pregnant before permanent bonding takes place.

Once permanent bonding has taken place sexual activity tends to be only with the bondmate. Sexual activity is quite frequent, both before and after bonding, and is considered one of life's greatest pleasures.

Telepathy

All Gelfling are mildly telepathic at birth. Gelfling who have permanently bonded have the highest level of telepathy, but all Gelfling remain telepathic at least at a basic level for their entire lives.

Gelfling Culture

Gelfling Art and Music

Two of the major delights of Gelfling are their art and their music. both have been developed to a very high degree; musical artifacts dating back nearly to the very beginning of Gelfling history have been found.

Although both art and music were highly developed, there was never a sense of competition amongst the Gelfling as there is with humans. Gelfling artists and musicians took great delight in teaching their crafts and even greater delight when one of their pupils turned out to be a master at the craft.

The vast majority of the music was limited to oral tradition; therefore, in the great purges carried out against the Gelfling much of this was lost forever. Only a few songs were ever recorded in written form; a few of those managed to survive the burning of the Music Academy.

Crafts

A wide variety of crafts is practiced by the Gelfling. Flower arrangement, jewelry crafting, carpentry, dancing and limited use of metals are all practiced, although never on a massive scale. Objects produced are made in numbers sufficient for immediate use, and emphasize beauty of form and structure. The tendency to want "possessions" so common in humans is not present in the Gelfling. This has helped to hold down the number of "objects" produced and minimizes damage to the environment.

The Gathering of the Tribes

The purpose of a Gathering of the Tribes is to select a new Queen. If a Queen ended her reign and none of her daughters wished to become Queen, or if it was "felt" by the Gelfling that a new Queen from another tribe was needed, then representatives of all Gelfling tribes would meet in the capital of Tarakendal. The representatives, both male and female, would hold hands and engage in a mass dreamfasting session, after which would follow a period of meditation. The name of the individual that was to become the Queen would then become known to all the Gelfling in a process that cannot be analyzed or expressed in words. The Gelfling so chosen would be crowned and recognized by all Gelfling tribes as the "rightful" Queen.

At no time during Gelfling history did any female "campaign" for Queen, nor did any tribe attempt to put forth a candidate. Such thoughts were alien to the Gelfling psychology.

Healers

Healers were inevitably female. They were born with the ability and would be trained by other healers. A healer had the ability to heal both physical and emotional illnesses. In severe cases the serves of more than one healer was used, sometimes as many as four healers working on the Gelfling at the same time.

For some yet unknown reason, when a female Gelfling became Queen she found that her healing abilities were increased substantially.

Matriarchy

Gelfling society is matriarchal in nature. Only female Gelfling become Queens or healers, and females control the times of their fertility. This does not mean, however, that the females were considered dominant or superior to the males, for such thoughts were foreign to Gelfling psychology. The matriarchal arrangement was accepted by all Gelfling without any qualms. Whenever a situation arose in which a male Gelfling had to assume command of a tribe temporarily, a great deal of unease was felt, and the leadership of the tribe was turned over to a female Gelfling as quickly as possible.

Gelfling society is not biologically equal, of course, since it is the female Gelfling that possesses wings and controls the fertility level. Again, however, this does not mean that the males are considered subordinate to the females. There are, in fact, no words in human language to describe the detailed arrangement of Gelfling society and how it functions since attitudes of dominance, aggression and control are not part of Gelfling psychological makeup.

Meals

Meals are always taken communally. At least two families if not more will eat their meals at the same time. The preparation of meals is done by the female Gelfling, with children of proper age being allowed to "assist." This form of communal dining is evidenced by the construction of Gelfling castles which also contain a single large banquet hall in which all the individuals staying at the castle take their meals together.

The Gelfling are almost entirely vegetarian in nature. Food is gathered by male and female Gelfling alike and then taken to the communal kitchen.

Before the meal begins there is a short period of grace during which thanks are given for the food. This grace generally consists of an apology for the taking of the life of the plants involved and a since wish that, through the death of the plants, new life would be created and would serve the planet well.

Pictographic Writing

Pictographic writing was developed early in Gelfling history. It is believed that it was introduced by Aughra around 3325 BDM. Almost all history and records were kept in this format. Pictographic writing became an art form unto itself and resulted in the decoration of many castles with pictographs that described the history of the tribes forming the castle family. The ability to read pictographic writing, for reasons unknown, is limited strictly to male Gelfling.

Written language

The written language is used infrequently and is believed to have also been introduced by Aughra. Only males are capable of using the written form of language for some unknown reason.

Religion

Religion is a very personal experience for the Gelfling, and there is apparently only one form of religion present amongst the tribes. A single Creator is worshiped, the worship consisting primarily of the Gelfling living their lives the best way they can in the closest harmony with the planet and all other life forms that they can achieve.

No formal churches or religious artifacts ever arose amongst Gelfling. There is a firm belief in an afterlife in which the individual goes to another dimension in which he or she finds themselves on another Thra but at a very young age, allowing the individual to live another full life. A series of such events is postulated, but no "goal" of "eventual purification" is ever stated or implied.

source: www\.bookmice.net/darkchilde/dark/gelfling.html

[misskittyhart]

Chapter 5:

Hell’s Bells and Shot Gun Shells

Warning: violence/ death/ talk of abuse

Kitty felt the sun on her skin. She felt sleep drunk as she stirred last. Her mind felt fuzzy. What happened last night? It all seemed like a blur right now. She vaguely remembered the nights events, from the killing to the…oh. Her face went scarlet.

Alastor smirked over at her watching as she came to reality from her sleep drunk haze. “Morning.” He said leaning in the door way of the bed room.

Kitty startled hearing his voice suddenly. “Morning…we…” she started.

He grinned at her “we did~” he seemed quite pleased with him self. Kitty flushed darker. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh don’t be so embarrassed~” he teased her walking into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He took a sip and rustled her hair treating her like a child

She looked up at him seeing that damn smile on his face. It was like she was tormenting her now. He leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. His sudden tenderness made her feel conflicted. This was the man grooming her to be a murderer. Taking her natural desire for bloodlust, and twisting it in his hand to suit his needs. Who she knew for a damn fact was manipulating her to his will. But right now she wanted to believe the lie he might actually like her.

“There’s more coffee and some breakfast in the kitchen if you so desire~” he said to her leaning up to his full height and looking down at her

Kitty moved slowly out of bed feeling, his gaze on her. It felt weird, but nice? She felt conflicted. Quietly she moved to get dressed. “I do need to go back to the city today, I have to preform tonight at 6.” She said dressing fully.

He hummed lightly “and here I thought I’d get to keep you to myself. Ah well, responsibility and all that.” He said waving his hand

Kitty smirked at him leaning her chin in the palm of her hand “you can always come listen to me, you know~”

His eyes seem to glimmer at that idea. His trademark grin split that handsome face. “Oh? You are right, I certainly could. I certainly will.” He leaned against the counter sipping his coffee.

This moment they shared was so different. Their interactions had been so dark and chaotic, before this. However right now he seemed so playful and gentle, like when they first met. Was it all a mask or was there some reality to this?

They spent most of the day this way, just getting to know each other better. Kitty spilled her guts about what drove her to snap and begin a murder spree. Leaning against the couch, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

“I just….” She started gaze cast down, “my parents died in a car crash when I was a teenager. My old money grandparents took me in. It was awful they were not very kind to me. As soon as they could they pushed me into an arranged marriage with another man, for an increase to their wealth. I suppose my life was worth little more than a few thousand.” She laughed weakly.

Alastor’s smile faltered as she spoke. A quite rage eking into his heart.

“He was a vicious man. You saw the scars on my belly and back last night….those were his handy work. He would use broken alcohol bottles, cigarette ends, you name it.” She managed to look up at him. His eyes were full of blood lust and rage at her words. She placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry darling….I know it’s hard to hear but bare with me.”

Alastor squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckle lightly.

“He would lock me in the basement for days, when he was really in a mood. I managed one night to crawl out of the basement window. I ran to freedom. I didn’t look back. I ended up here in New Orleans two years ago, far away from that old house in Mississippi.” She continued.

Alastor was a little stunned she was a runaway. He squeezed her hand firmly “you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.” His eyes burned into hers it was a vow.

Kitty leaned her face into his shoulder. “This cycle of abuse broke me somewhere deep inside. I saw a man beating a woman in an alleyway….and I just. Something snapped. I stabbed him to death and ran off. There was something so freeing about this act. As if I was getting revenge myself. It became and addiction. I used the jazz club to find more unsavory men, and began to pick them off carefully.”

Alastor listened to her story wicked delight in his big grin. She did similar to what he did. Protect the innocent, and clean the scum of society from the streets. After all rabid dogs must be put down~

They continued their conversation for awhile until it was time to bring her back to the city. Alastor drove silent for awhile just thinking through everything. His eyes drifted to her. She was looking out the window quietly, seemingly lost in thought. He smirked. What a wonderful creature he happened upon. He seemed pleased with how this relationship was progressing.

“Kitty~” he said breaking the silence. She jolted out of her thoughts, turning her head to look at him. He grinned at her. “I have to say….it’s been a thrilling time getting to know you, I’d love to see you more frequently.”

Kitty thought about it and smiled lightly “I’d like that.” She said softly. She hadn’t been sure of Alastor, and there was such weird mystery surrounding him. However she felt inclined to get to see just who he really was. Especially with how kind he had been recently.

He smirked in reply and focused on the road. Before long they pulled up to the Silver Magnolia in the French Quarter. He parked and came around to assist her out of the car. She took his hand as he helped her stand. She smiled lightly at him for the gesture. He was a gentleman despite his wild nature that lay beneath that mask of southern charm.

He was content to grab a drink and stay and watch her preform tonight. He had nothing else happening, and was always delighted watching her preform. Not to mention he could make sure she wasn’t harassed. It infuriated him how many men would flock to her; and touch her. How dare they touch her. His eyes narrowed at the thought. After all she was his. Especially after last night, he had laid his claim upon her.

Kitty was in her dressing room getting ready for the show while Alastor was nursing a whiskey and glaring at the men that sauntered about. He had committed to memory the ones he deemed as problems. His mind making note to handle them if they step out of line.

It was show time before long. Kitty came out on stage and had the crowd on pins and needles. It never got old to Alastor. He was always enthralled watching her with grace and pride commanding that stage. He rest his chin on his hand and watched her dance and sing. She always looked the happiest up there. He wanted that happiness for his own. How could he steal away that happiness just for him to see and no one else? He sipped his whiskey.

How could he get her heart? He already had began to twist what was left of her broken mind, bending her to his will to continue down her dark path, of vengeance. However he was not sated. He wanted more. He wanted to devour every inch of that little vixen. His eyes narrowed and he grinned. He wanted to possess her.

The band roared into the night as kitty finished her set. It was time to go get changed and clean up before meeting with Alastor. A man had followed her. He entered her dressing room behind her and confront her.

Kitty felt cornered and a little panicked the man cornering her against the wall of her dressing room. “I am tired of asking!” He yelled aggressively at her, “I will not take no for an answer again!” He growled.

Kitty glared up at him feeling small but the fire was still burning in her eyes. “I will never marry you!” She retorted. It was a wealthy industrialist named Marc Jacobson. He had been harassing her for months to become his wife. Kitty refused to be crammed back into another man’s cage, especially now that she had tasted freedom.

He struck her swiftly. His hand smacking her across the face so hard she tasted blood in her mouth. Had he been not at her work, she would have attacked him. It was an awful delicate situation as she needed to remain innocent.

Alastor had come back stage to meet her in her dressing room as it seemed she was taking awhile. Which annoyed him a little, he wanted to see her post haste. He heard the arguing as he came up on her door. Then the loud smack. His eyes flared with rage. Who dare lay a hand on his woman? He tried the door and found it locked. In a fit of rage he kicked the door inwards slamming it against the wall. His eyes were burning red seeing Kitty pinned against the wall with this pompous man looming over her.

When he saw the blood on her lip he lost all sense of self. He lunged at the man, grabbing him by his shirt and punching him so hard in the face it broke Marc’s nose. Crimson gushed down Marc’s face. He stumbled back hitting the floor. Alastor looked over Marc a look of sinister hatred burning in his eyes. His eyes had an eerie green glow to him as he snarled down at the man.

Marc looked up at him outraged holding his face with a bloody hand. He got to his feet and shoulder checked Alastor before heading out. Alastor glared after him. He would take care of that one tonight. He rushed to Kitty immediately. He held her face gently checking her over, he seemed worried.

“It’s fine….I’ve had worse” she chuckled sadly.

Alastor looked into her eyes gently cleaning the blood from her lip with his handkerchief. “I don’t care. How dare he hurt you. Was that the man you mentioned who’s been trying to get you to marry him?” He questioned

“Yes….that’s the one.” She sighed.

Alastor hummed softly. He brushed his thumb over the sore spot on her face, seemingly lost in thought. How did he want to kill this man? Probably set him loose into his hunting grounds, hunt him down and shoot him. He wanted him to feel the same fear of being pursued endlessly. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I’ll handle him, cher~” he leaned down taking her lips with his.

Kitty felt a lot safer now that Alastor was here. If he handled the problem it would take the heat off of her, and she would get the justice she craved. She smirked at him “oh you do so spoil me darling~” she sighed softly

Alastor grinned down at her, his thumb resting on her chin. “Oh it’s no problem my dear~”

They sat in her dressing room together for sometime. He held her gently letting her come down from the assault that had happened. He was being gentle with her c slowly running his fingers through her hair. After her awful abusive marriage, he imagined she wasn’t in a good headspace.

Kitty leaned into him lost in her own thoughts. She was feeling a lot more calm with his caring touches. They stayed like this for some time. Once she felt okay enough he decided tonight they would find this man, and have her lure him out to his cabin.

It seemed easy enough. She knew where he lived from being invited to a dinner party. Alastor hid in the back seat, in anticipation. A wicked glee on his face. Kitty would lie saying she thought it over and wanted to marry him after all. Then say she wanted to go somewhere private to have some intimacy

It was working splendidly. She had drugged the whiskey she gave him, so he was very out of it. Alastor waited in the back floor board eagerly. He was almost panting like a wild animal at the thought of taking that wretch’s life with his own hands tonight.

Marc was out of it, and it was very easy for Kitty to use her charms to manipulate him. Alastor felt pride swell in his chest for how wicked his little vixen was at using her wiles. If he wasn’t crazy about her already, he was now. He had to stifle a laugh. All of this was so amusing.

Kitty pulled up the the secluded cabin that belonged to Alastor. Marc stumbled out of the car and she was easy to lead him into the house. The plan was for Alastor to chase him out and into the woods where he would hunt him down like prey.

Alastor went around the back of the house and retrieved his shot gun. He loaded it and put extra ammo in his pockets, not that he was a bad shot, but just in case. His eyes glimmered with sick, twisted glee.

Kitty led Marc into the kitchen. Alastor came around the corner gun raised. A wild feral look in his eyes as he grinned at Marc. “You have to the count of ten to run.” Alastor laughed. Marc was drugged but could think enough that he ran past Alastor and out the open back door.

Alastor counted laughing hysterically as Marc stumbled tearing off into the woods. He looked over at Kitty, “sit tight darlin. I’ll handle this and be back soon~”

Then Alastor bottled out of the back door grinning. He was following the trail of broken branches and disturbed brush. He could hear Marc running ahead through the brush. The rustling drawing Alastor close to his heels. Marc was cursing and panting tryin to make it through the wood. Though in his drugged state it was difficult.

They made it into a clearing. Alastor was approaching him blood lust in his eyes. Marc began to plead as the shot gun was aimed at him. “I’ll never bother her again! I swear!” Marc begged hands raised as he backed away.

Alastor laughed cruelly, malice dripping in his voice, “you think it’s your god given right to lay hands on my girl!?” He was panting and grinning madly at Marc gun raised.

Marc backed up still, hands in front of him “please God no! I’m sorry!” He begged

A strange eerie green aura emanated about Alastor and the loud sound of radio static exploded into the air. His eyes glowed an eerie, sickly green. Strange dark powers forming around him. This would be one more sacrifice.

Alastor laughed loudly “I am no God! No mercy from the devil!” He cackled wickedly before firing a round. The shot gun rang out into the woods, echoing as the bullet tore through Marc. Crimson pooled around Marc’s chest, staining his suit. Alastor wasn’t satisfied, he reloaded and fired again. Marc stumbled back and fell onto the ground holding his chest.

Alastor loomed over him crushing his windpipe down with his boot. “We put down rabid animals” he grinned. The moonlight framed his figure as he held the shotgun point blank. He fired in between Marc’s eyes. Blood spraying his clothing and face. He laughed wildly head tossed back the moonlight glinting off his blood splatter glasses

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Wraith

A/N: To wrap up my 31 days of writing (almost) every day, I thought I’d write my first self-contained story.  And given that it’s Hallowe’en, I tried to make it scary.  I’m not 100% satisfied with the result, but I’d love to hear your thoughts.  And thank you to all of you who’ve liked and commented and followed over the past month.  It’s been great encouragement to continue bashing my forehead against the keyboard when I really ought to have been sleeping!

Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

It was into the wet-wool depths of medicated slumber that the sounds first intruded.  The soft scuff of sock-clad feet.  A floorboard’s complaint.

Dana Scully ascended through layers of torpor, a foreign sense of rightness greeting the day’s beginning.   It was after 8am, though the light was still dim.  The heavy geometrical masses of her furniture seemed cast in monochrome.   She’d apparently silenced her alarm and would soon be late for work, but instead of dismay, an ember of contentment burned.  Rather than question the feeling, she lay adrift in her derelict bed.

Laughter, soft as ashes falling, came from beyond the hall.

Slowly, she lowered her bare feet to the chilled floor, oddly bereft of apprehension.  Her weapon lay idle on the nightstand as she made her way to the living room.  Pale grey light suffused the room.  Nothing seemed amiss.  A dream. The Lorazepam she started taking during her cancer treatment now eased her into oblivion each night, and with it came haphazard images that faded into wakeful fogginess.  As a contraindication, loss of memory was something she willingly suffered.  There was more that she’d prefer to forget than remember.

Resigning herself to plodding heavy-footed through the motions of her workday, she walked to the kitchen.  Even if her spirit was missing, her body could still go through the motions of making coffee.  Halfway into the room, she froze.  Sitting at her table was a little girl.

“May I have Cornflakes for breakfast, Dana?”

The FBI bullpen was not conducive to heavy thinking.  By mid-morning, Mulder had fled its mayhem for an empty interrogation room.  Once there, feet propped up on a second chair under the tonal hum of the overheads, he untethered his thoughts and allowed them to flow freely through whatever channels tempted.  It had been his experience that insights were best grasped when approached obliquely.  There was no point in asking “what’s wrong with Scully, and how do I fix it?”   Like Scully, those questions resisted his direct inquiry like a stone wall resists a beam of light.   Like water, he would have to seep if he wanted to loosen her mortar.

It was understandable and even desirable that Scully mourn her many losses: father, sister, her vigourous health to cancer (although thankfully that was in remission), a biological daughter she had barely known, her fertility.  Christ, just reciting the list was enough to make him weep.  The issue wasn’t that she was now dressing like a Hutterite with a good tailor, either; or that she ate barely enough to nourish a small bird and approached their new assignment without her usual dogged sense of duty.  No, what was bothering him about Scully is that she seemed … rudderless.   As though she no longer saw a path forward in her heretofore stalwart march through life.   And a Scully without direction was a Scully that scared him shitless.  

If he was scared, how must Scully feel?  Scully, who sought order and meaning in all things.  Scully, whose need to categorize and compartmentalize her emotions was legend. Scully, who hadn’t unpacked her small box of personal effects after moving it upstairs from their former X-Files office.   Scully, who still hadn’t made an appearance this morning, despite never being late for work, even when she was dying…

He leapt to his feet and made for the parking garage.   In the hallway, Agent Coleman accosted him:

“Hey, Spooks.  Where’s the missus?   Don’t tell me she finally left you.”

Ignoring Coleman entirely, except for the curdling in his gut, he trotted the rest of the way to his car and made haste for Georgetown.  His windshield wipers beat a rhythm to his litany: pleasebethere, pleasebethere, pleasebethere.  

It was still October, but a windstorm had prematurely stripped most of the foliage, leaving bare arthritic branches, sap still pumping uselessly through the wood.  He parked lawlessly a few blocks from her building and stalked, jacketless shoulders hunched against the cold mist, down the graphite sidewalk.  A startled motion drew his gaze skyward just as a murmuration of starlings alit from a row of barren streetside maples, rising like a liquid Mobius strip of wings.  A portent, the Romans would say.  An omen.  He quickened his pace.

At her door, he deliberated on whether to knock first, or simply let himself in.  Barely able to abide the extra thirty seconds of unknowing, he rapped quickly, and felt his adrenaline-bound muscles start to accordion when her answering footsteps approached.

“Scully.”  She was still in her pajamas and bore telltale kohl-like smudges beneath her eyes, but she appeared well.  She was even smiling.

“Mulder, hi.  I’m so sorry I didn’t call you.  I’m having a … well, it’s a good thing you’re here.”

“I’m just relieved you’re alright.  When you still weren’t there after Kersh’s morning rounds, well … I just needed to know you were okay.”

“I’m fine.  Good, in fact.  Mulder, the weirdest thing happened this morning, and if you come in, I’ll tell you about it.  Or rather, I’ll show you.”

“You know me, Scully. Weird is my specialty.”  He was feeling better, having seen her. Able to joke with her again. Maybe she just needed to take the day off.  He could hardly begrudge her that.

“Well, this is pretty weird, even by your standards.  Come into the kitchen – I want you to meet someone.”

Perplexed and perhaps a bit put off by the fact that Scully was entertaining a guest in her pajamas with no make-up, he made his way cautiously to the kitchen.   An empty cereal bowl and a half-drunk glass of orange juice were laid out on the table, but there was no other sign of occupation.

Scully stood by the doorway, her bloodshot eyes shining brightly, and gestured toward the empty kitchen chair.

“Mulder, I’d like you to meet Lily.”

Her breath was sticking beneath her ribs, as though frozen.  A whir of shock like startled birds beat in her ears.

“I don’t understand, Mulder. She’s right here.  Sweetie, say hello to Mulder.”

“Hello, Mr. Mulder,” Lily replied in her whispery voice.

He shook his head.  “Scully…”  He was using his hostage negotiation voice.  The one pitched just right, so that children, battered women and psychopaths could hear his vulnerable sincerity.   God, which one did he think she was?

“Mulder!  Mulder, she’s right here.  Lily…” her mind scrambled to think of how to prove the existence of something… someone… that Mulder could not see. “Lily, lift up the glass on the table.  Lift it up in the air.”

“No.  I don’t like him.  He makes you upset.  I don’t like it when you’re upset, Dana.”  The child’s voice was sing-songy, yet chilly with resentment.

“He doesn’t usually… I’m only upset because I need him to believe me, Lily.”

“Scully, why don’t you tell me what happened this morning?  When did you start to see Lily?”  He tried to divert her rising hysteria.

She was indignant. After all the things he’d expected her to believe without tangible proof, why couldn’t he believe her now? She had to make him see.  This little girl needed her. “I woke up late.  I must have slept through my alarm.  I heard noises in the apartment, and when I came out to investigate, I found Lily sitting in my kitchen.  She asked me for Cornflakes.”  Here her voice broke.  It had felt so good to be needed, to not be the needy one anymore.

“How did she get into your apartment?”

“I… I don’t know. I…  Lily, how did you get into my apartment?”  Why couldn’t she remember?

“You let me in.”

“No.  No, I didn’t.  I was asleep and when I woke up you were in my kitchen.”  Oh, god.  What was going on?  What was wrong with her?

“Dana, you let me in. I knocked on your door after I escaped from the bad doctors, and you opened it.  You were wearing your pajamas.  You said you were tired, so you went back to sleep.”

Sleepwalking?  She must have been so heavily medicated from the Lorazepam that she let Lily into her apartment without fully waking.  Of course!

“Mulder, Lily says I let her into my apartment last night.  I must have been so out of it, I didn’t remember doing it.”  There.  That was an irrefutable explanation for Lily’s presence.

“What does she call you, Scully?”

“What?”

“You heard me.  What does she call you?”

“She calls me Dana. Why is that important?”

“Did you introduce yourself to her as Dana?”

A shattering wind chime noise, and she and Mulder both jumped.  Orange juice spread across the linoleum tile, pooling around the knife-edged fragments of glass.

He had thought slowly losing Scully to cancer had been his darkest nightmare.  This was ten times worse.  He knew these cases – hell, he had a doctorate in these cases - and they seldom turned out well.  Post-traumatic stress disorder, enantiodromia, a psychotic break: call it what you will, the end result was seeing Scully during weekend visiting hours and making certain he didn’t buy her anything serrated for Christmas.

It was difficult applying his clinical training to a situation that threatened to upend what little stability his life afforded.   But he knew he had to keep Scully from getting agitated, and that she needed professional care, which first meant coaxing her away from her apartment.

Scully was on her knees, carefully picking up the shards of tumbler and placing them in newspaper for safe disposal.  It was such a deliberate, Scully-like gesture that it seemed almost normal, were it not for the fact that she continued to carry on a one-sided conversation with the non-existent Lily.  

“Scully, what does Lily look like?  Does she remind you of anyone?”  He needed her to trust him, to see that he was on her side.

She stood and arched her back, buttons straining “She’s maybe six or seven years old, a little bit small for her age, with a very serious expression.  Her skin is … it’s like it’s glowing.  Hyaline.  And her eyes are … before I thought her eyes ressembled Emily’s, but now I see they’re more like Melissa’s.  So innocent and all-seeing.  And her hair looks like fire.  It’s rippling like flame.”

“She sounds beautiful. I wish I could see her.  Can you think of why I can’t?”  Maybe he could appeal to her with a problem statement requiring diagnosis.

“Oh, Mulder, that’s more your area of expertise.  Aren’t there… spirits, that make themselves known only to certain people.  People who are meant to see them?  Listen to me!  I’m advocating for the presence of a ghost in my own apartment, and you probably think I’m insane.”

“I don’t think you’re insane, Scully.   I’m just worried about you.  The Lily you just described to me – she sounds like a fetch, or maybe a tulpa. An apparition that signifies a kind of supernatural upheaval or ferment for the person who sees them.  If that’s the case, it’s not safe for you to stay here in your apartment.  Once you’re someplace safe, I can have the Gunman…”

“LILY! Oh my God, honey, what have you done?”  She was staring at the floor in horror.  As she rushed from the room, Mulder noticed there were drops of blood on the newspaper.  Scully must have cut her hand on the glass.

“I’m cold, Dana.  I really want a bath.”  Lily was whimpering, the deep cut across her palm from the broken glass now carefully bandaged.

“Lily, I’m not sure that’s …”

“Cold.  I’m so cold.”  For a moment, she heard her own voice, echoing across time.  Shaking her head as though to clear the fogginess, she relented and started to run the bath.

Calling out to Mulder, who loomed beyond the bathroom’s threshold, “Mulder, I’m just going to give Lily a bath. Then we can talk some more, okay?”

“Make him go away, Dana. I don’t like him.  He’s not a nice man.  Everyone he cares about gets hurt.”  Lily’s voice was whisper soft, reedy like a tune played in a minor key.

“Lily, Mulder is my friend. He’s here because he wants to help m.. us.  I’m not going to ask him to leave.  I’ll close the door.  Would that make you feel better?”

Inside the sealed vault of the bathroom, the running water echoed, and a mist began to rise and obscure the air.   Lily lay prone in the large tub, her hair curling like firelight underwater.

When Scully was a girl, her father had told her the Greek myth of the daughters of Danaus, the first shipbuilder.  Fiercely loyal to their father, the Danaides murdered their unwanted bridegrooms on their wedding night rather than sacrifice their virginity.  Banished to Tartarus for their crimes, they were condemned to try to fill a punctured vessel with water for all eternity.  That was her lot – doomed to fight a never-ending battle as punishment for doing what she was told.  Too loyal to quit.  Too stoic to complain.  Too principled to find an easier path.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Dana.” Lily’s odd, phrenite eyes glowed like beacons.  A heavy lethargy pulled Scully forward towards the water.  The noise of the tap grew louder and louder, the sound of boulders crashing downhill.

“Come back with me, and we can all be together again.”  Across the water’s surface, a kaleidoscope of images glistened like oil: Ahab, Melissa, Emily, her younger, carefree self.  An oceanic rumble filled every corner of space. It would be so easy to fall into its tearful embrace…

Pacing between the front door and sofa, Mulder searched desperately for a solution that didn’t involve dragging Scully, kicking and screaming, to the nearest psychiatric facility. He’d never seen such an intense delusional state come on so quickly, without an outside trigger like drugs or a cataclysmic psychological event.

From beyond the bathroom door, the water ran and ran.  It seemed like Scully had been in there forever.  He approached the door and was about to knock when a gnathal, grinding noise emerged from within.

“Scully!”  He tried the door, but it was locked.  Slapping the wood repeatedly with an open palm, he bellowed, “Scully, answer me!”   Taking a step backwards, he kicked the lock loose from the mortice and barreled into the cloudy room.

At first he saw nothing but brume, the mist lit with an eerie subterranean light.  Making his way by sound to where the bathtub continued its liquid dirge, he almost fell over Scully’s kneeling form.  Her face hovered just above the water’s turbid surface, the wet lashes of her hair swirling like arterial blood.  He grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her to safety, but an immense weight called her back down.

A frustrated wail rose from his throat, pulling along all his sorrow and guilt as it ascended. He hauled against Scully’s birdlike collar bones so hard she would wear traces of his fingers like a necklace.  A sound like tearing sheet metal filled the room, and Scully’s body and whatever was pulling her downward separated with a fissile snap.  Water exploded into the heavy air, then rained down like tears over their collapsed bodies. They lay folded into one another like origami on the flooded floor, rocking like anchored boats in a gale.  Scully’s muscles twitched spasmodically, as Mulder cooed in her ear. “I won’t let you go, Scully.  I won’t let you go.”