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Haunting Memories |
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Part 5 Chapter 30 Quentin stared into the dark doorway as a sense of gloom assaulted his very spirit. Too dark to see inside Quentin turned around and quickly started to search his old room for something that would help illuminate the darkened quarters. As he searched he could feel something pushing… as if pushing against his mind. An intruder was trying to take over his own brain, his own body. Count Petofi. ‘Well, I guess I didn’t expect him to stay away forever. I’m not that lucky.’ Quentin thought to himself. He focused all his strength on keeping Count Petofi out of his mind. The longer he could delay the inevitable, the greater the chances were that Julia and Nick would summon Angelique successfully. He just hoped he could hang on long enough. ~*~ Julia looked over Quentin’s list again, making sure she and Nick had gathered everything that was on it. Yes, everything was ready and the time was quickly approaching. Julia prayed Quentin would be back in time to help Nick and herself. Although she had taken part in many seances and ceremonies in her time she had never done any such thing alone, not without Barnabas, Quentin or another member of the Collins’ family. She rather not start now. ~*~ Quentin had managed to scrounge up a match and a half-burned, red wax candlestick. He’d rather of had a flashlight but this would have to do, he thought as he mentally kicked himself for not having the foresight to bring one along. He struck the match, watching its fire flame and then die down. He lit the candle and felt immediate comfort in the small amount of light that it’s little flame produced… but the ghostly sound of nothing still unnerved him. ‘As silent as a tomb’ he thought wryly. ‘Rather cliché’ but fitting non-the-less.’ Quentin walked back over to the secret panel and into the hidden room. Once he did so the darkness seemed to press in on him even more than before making him feel very claustrophobic, something he had never felt in his life. As he stood stone still in the room he saw nothing at first but black. As he started to approach the table that he knew was in the center of the little room Quentin became aware of a soft but steady sound. It was the old grandfather clock that stood on the far wall… still going, as if oblivious to time. Tick, tick, tick… ~*~ Julia glanced at the clock restlessly. 11:40pm Quentin still wasn’t back yet and she was growing more and more alarmed that she and Nick would have to summon the dangerous witch without him. Nick was pacing the hotel room nervously in front of Julia, making her more edgy if it were possible. Nick had been through countless things in his life. Some were frightening… many were bizarre, but summoning a seemingly two-faced female witch back from the depths of hell was something he had managed to miss in his long life and it was something he felt he could continue to live without. Looking back at the clock he was reminded of how slow time went when you wanted tomorrow to come on swift wings. ~*~ Quentin let out a small gasp as the room began to come into focus, slowly, ever so slowly the long rectangular table came into view… and… what was that. Figures? Figures… 8 figures sitting around the long oak table.
They were so still. Quentin took a tentative step forward, the light from his candle flickering across the disquieting room.
‘People can’t really be sitting around this table, it just isn’t
logical.’
No doubt about it, 8 people were sitting around the table. He stood before one of the figures now. Bending down he leaned toward the female figure as he raised his candle in front of his face to get a better look. The candlelight danced across the figures features making everything appear fake and unreal… he was beginning to think that this all might be some sort of hideous dream. He reached out his trembling hand until his fingertips met with the hard cool surface of the woman figure. Cold. So cold… and hard as ice. Quentin shuddered and instinctively pulled back his hand as if it had been scorched. They were statues, all of them. Eight porcelain statues sitting silently around the long old oak table, hidden deep within the bowls of Collinwood’s forgotten halls. They all looked so realistic, so lifelike. They’re eyes like shimmering glass orbs sucking up any image that dared pass over them. Quentin almost believed that they, at any moment, would blink… turn to him and ask what he was doing, barging in on them as they waited for their supper to be served. Glancing down the length of the table he noticed the name-cards placed in front of each statue reading the names of the people they represented. ‘This is just too bizarre.’ He thought as his eyes hit the figure seated at the head of the table. It was Count Petofi. Quentin’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight before him. The Count was sitting as still as the others… but… was he really like the others? Or was he really the count playing some demented joke on him. He approached the ‘statue’ of Petofi, knowing all the while that he should stay away. His fear growing with each step he took toward him. Tick, tick, tick… the old clock continued as if everything were normal and sane in this twisted world Quentin found himself in. The room appeared to Quentin almost like a painting. Timeless and frozen in a world of it’s own… never changing and rooted down for eternity. And at the moment he hoped that was true. Tick, tick, tick…. Quentin stood next to Count Petofi’s statue, too close for comfort. Tick, tick, tick.
He moved his candle closer to it, looked at the name-card in front of
it. "What the hell…?" Quentin said out loud, not even realizing it until it shattered the silence in the room like a sharp shard of glass. Tick, tick, tick. Now a taunting sound to Quentin as he looked back at the statue of Petofi… it was grinning now. Had it been grinning before? He couldn’t think… he couldn’t remember. Darkening shadows were creeping along the walls, an eerie product of what little light Quentin held onto. The air seemed to grow cold within seconds; the frosty cloud that came when he exhaled confirmed his fear. A loud sound broke his thoughts and it dawned on Quentin that it was the secret panel slamming shut with tremendous force. Quentin didn’t even want to think of the reason. He stood up straight and started towards the panel, praying that it would open for him. The thought of being trapped in this room terrified him, but a hand grabbed his arm roughly before he could even take three steps. Quentin let out a short, startled holler as he snapped his head around to see his captor. It was non-other than Count Petofi. His ‘statue’ was still seated, but the right hand had moved from the tabletop and held on to Quentin’s lower arm with the force of granite. Crushing his arm Quentin gritted his teeth and fixed a steely stare on the Count. It’s head turned then, the sound of cracking porcelain accompanying it’s every move until it stared directly at Quentin. "Your time is up, my boy." It said to him evilly and followed his taunt with mad laughter. Low at first and increasing in volume as it continued. Quentin used all the force he could muster and broke away from Petofi’s grip… breaking the Counts statue’s porcelain hand as he pulled away. But the laughing continued. Laughing… tick, tick, tick… laughing … tick, tick, tick… Quentin couldn’t stand it any longer; he covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes tightly. It didn’t help; he could still hear the Count’s grating laughter echo through his mind. He opened his eyes and made a mad dash for the secret panel stopping dead in his tracks at the hideous sound he heard next, above the roar of laughter and the ticking of the old grandfather clock. Turning around he looked at the statues sitting around the table. They were starting to break apart, seemingly from the Count’s screeching laughter, like glass shatters at a piercing sound, so were the porcelain figures. He stood watching in horror, glued to the spot as they fell apart, the porcelain pieces shattering as they hit the floor. But then Quentin realized something even more horrifying; the porcelain was just a covering for the gruesome reality that lied beneath it. Like a fake skin, underneath was something he never would have expected. Quentin closed his eyes – opened them again. The image was the same. And only then did Quentin finally realize what happened to the 1960’s Collins’ family. They sat before him now, dead. They had been dead for years… more victims of the monstrous Count Petofi. Tick, tick, tick… Quentin looked breifly at the old clock, Count Petofi was right. He was out of time. 11:53pm Shooting his glance back over to the table he gasped and began to back away. The skeletons of his long dead family looked as if they were trying to rise. "No" Quentin whispered hoarsely, watching in horror as they succeeded in standing and making their way towards him. Awkward and slow, hands out stretched they looked like puppets and Quentin came to the conclusion that that’s exactly what they were. Count Petofi’s demented puppets. Closer and closer they came and Quentin put his hands in front of his face protectively. "No!" he screamed over and over and a feeling of falling overcame him. It felt as if he were being pushed, falling backwards. Everything became dark and the only sound left was that damn eternal ticking of that old grandfather clock. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick… Dark, so very dark and Quentin wondered if he was dead. If the Count had finally won. ~*~ Julia checked the clock for the hundredth time. 11:58pm Quentin was not going to make it in time - she just knew it. Sighing she said to Nick sullenly "Nick, we had better get ready to begin." ~*~ The first sensation Quentin had was a feeling of a cold surface on his left cheek. He was groggy, his body felt weak and he became aware of voices around him, two male voices. "He is a decibel of the devil! What you have just witnessed with your own eyes should prove it to you!" Quentin groaned as he slowly opened his eyes to find Edward standing next to him, a look of confusion, fear and anger all rolled into one masked his face. Trask was standing right behind him with a gleam of triumph in his eyes. "Wha—What’s going on here?" Quentin said groggily, still trying to get a handle on things. He felt slow and drained of strength. "Perhaps you can tell me!" Edward all but yelled, Quentin looked down and saw the scattered I-Ching wands and it occurred to him what had happened. Edward and Trask had found him in his I-Ching trance; Edward had scattered the wands and brought him back to 1897 once again… the damn fool. "He was practicing the black arts, sorcery… witchcraft! He MUST be destroyed before he brings more evil and doom to Collinwood!" Trask preached to Edward. "No… no, Edward… listen to me. I can explain, I—" Quentin started, only to be cut-off by Edward. "There is no need for you to explain, Trask has explained it all, and he is right! I… I… I cannot allow you to continue your cursed existence any longer!" Edward said, struggling to keep his composure. "No! I—" "We know all about your attempts to drive everyone in this house mad and take everything for yourself! You drove your poor sister Judith insane and put Jamison and Edward under your spell! But the All Mighty was too powerful for you and they were able to defeat your evil with His help! We know all about you now Quentin!" "What are you talking about?! I didn’t do any of that, it was Petofi! I told you all about it Edward! It was Petofi!" Quentin said as he desperately grabbed onto Edwards frock coat trying to make him listen. "I saved you and Jamison, Edward! Don’t you understand?!" "Of course you would say such a lie to save your own skin!" Spat Trask in disgust. "Kill him Edward, kill him now. You know you must, it is your duty. You know it is!" Quentin was still holding onto Edward for dear life, his eyes searched Edwards pleadingly.
"It’s not true! Please Edward, you’ve got to believe me. I-I-I
know you don’t have the heart to kill me. I’m your brother… your
brother!!!"
"Ed-Edward, what do you have in your hand?" He had no time to
react, just starting to pull away. "What are you going to—" Quentin’s clock chimed. It was midnight. "I… I never dreamed… my own… brother would be… my… executioner." Quentin all but whispered as maroon quickly engulfed the rest of his eyesight, completely filling it and becoming brighter… until he saw nothing but red fading quickly to black. Chapter 31 Julia glanced at the clock nervously as it ticked down to the exact moment in which they needed to start the ceremony to summon Angelique. Nick met her eyes as he said, "I guess Quentin won’t be joining us." "I’m afraid not, I just hope we can save him in time. Let’s get ready to begin." Julia struck a match and quickly began lighting the candles as Nick took his place for the ceremony. Blowing out the match, Julia and Nick watched the clock anxiously. Julia prayed that the ceremony Quentin told them to perform would succeed. 11:59pm One more minute. One more minute and they would have no choice, but to begin. ~*~ 1897 Edward’s eyes widened, he started to back away from his brother’s now lifeless body as the reality of the situation just started to hit him. "My god… what have I done?" he whispered hoarsely. He had been caught up in the moment, he had let Trask pry into his mind and make him insane with rage and paranoia. He hadn’t even listened to Quentin when he tried to explain… and there was no changing what he’d done now. What if Quentin had been telling the truth? Now… he may never know what had been fact and what had been Trask’s fantasies… Trask’s vicious lies.
"You did your duty, Edward. He was evil, he was inhuman –" Cold. Lifeless. Dead.
He turned away from the body and headed to the door, only pausing for a
moment to look at Trask as he said, "Your in this with me all the
way. Killing Quentin was your idea and if you dare to call the police, I
swear I’ll tell them that." "What about the body, Edward?" Trask interrupted, "If we try to take it out into the woods and bury it someone may find him later… or worse, someone may catch us in the act."
"We’ll leave it here." "Mr. Trask – we are going to leave this room, panel up the doorway and close off the West Wing… forever. No one will ever know that Quentin died here… and once our Collins’ generation is gone, no one will ever know that Quentin, or this room ever existed at all." ~*~ Present Time Julia took a deep breath as the clock struck midnight. Nick looked straight into the flame of a candle and began to chant to himself softly as Quentin had instructed. Julia looked into the flame of her candle and started the ceremony… "I address myself and the man here with me to the powers of darkness. I call upon a flame to summon you. I call upon the raven and the viper and all the dark creatures of nature to draw you, like a rising mist from out of the darkness of the earth…" The hotel room suddenly became deathly cold as a harsh wind blew around the two of them. The candles flickered… yet did not go out, despite the heavy wind. Julia took a deep breath and continued… "Rise… rise… rise and help us! For there is an enemy in our midst and he must be destroyed! Rise… rise… and help us rid ourselves of the enemy we wish to destroy! Rise!" Just as Julia finished the chant she heard an eerie, soft, and very familiar laughter echo through the room. Nick looked around wildly for the source as Julia waited for her to show herself. Slowly she became visible before them in the tiny room, as enchanting and beautiful as ever. ‘Well chalk one up for Quentin,’ Julia thought to herself, ‘the ceremony worked, evidently he does know what he’s doing when it comes to the black arts.’
"Julia my dear, of all people… I would never have imagined YOU
to be the one to summon me back from hell." Angelique said, looking
like she couldn’t believe her eyes. She looked Julia over suspiciously
and cast a questioning glance towards Nick. "You must need help with
something VERY badly, to have summoned me. Tell me, how did you know how
to perform this little… ritual?" "It’s a long story Angelique…" Julia said with a sigh. She was getting too old for all this nonsense, she thought to herself. She was exhausted. "Well then perhaps you ought to start telling it to me, start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out… that is if you want my help." ~*~ 1897 Judith was seated in a small office in Rushmore Sanitarium. The office only had the bare necessities with nothing that could be dangerous out in open sight. The walls were painted an eggshell white, it was said to have a calming effect. She hadn’t noticed it. Judith was waiting for her "shrink" to join her. This was the day she had been waiting for, after months of torture and insanity hopefully coming to an end. Her behavior had been excellent and she knew she was in perfect control of her faculties… and today was the day the doctor would tell her if she could return home to Collinwood… or of she must stay. She shuddered at the thought of spending one more day in this god-forsaken place; she had to get out… before she really did lose her mind. She turned towards the door as she heard it open. It was the doctor; he smiled as he sat down opposite her. Getting straight to the point he said, "You’ve made an exceptional recovery Judith. I’m happy to report that you’re free to leave here and return to your home anytime you like." Judith sighed with audible relief accompanied by a genuine smile. "Thank you, doctor. Thank you." ~*~ Beth hung up Mrs. Fillmore’s telephone, she had called Collinwood to see if Quentin was still there and no one had answered… and that was very odd. Usually someone was there to answer a call, even if it was just a servant. She quickly picked up the receiver again and ordered herself a carriage; she had to get back to Collinwood. Something was wrong, she just knew it… and she had a horrible feeling it had to do with Quentin. Done with her call, she went over to one of the little cottages front windows and looked outside as she nervously bit her nails. "What’s the matter dear?" Mrs. Fillmore asked softly, startling Beth. She hadn’t heard Mrs. Fillmore enter the room. "Oh… nothing." She lied, "I called a carriage. I really must be getting back to Collinwood right away." ~*~ Present Time Angelique and Julia stepped into the large foyer of Collinwood. Julia wished they didn’t have to leave Nick at the hotel, but at 9:00am there was no way around it. Angelique had listened to the whole story at the hotel and on their ride to Collinwood, the more she heard the more she became concerned for Quentin and themselves as well. She didn’t seem too surprised that Count Petofi had returned, but was shocked when she was told what plans he had for Quentin. Even she couldn’t understand all the powers he seemed to have. Making their way to the ominous west wing in silence, they could feel their anxiety radiating off each other with the shrill creaking of the floorboards being their only companion. They walked along the once closed-off passage that seemed to know nothing of daylight and everything of darkness. Stepping into the first room of Quentin’s old suite they could both sense the doom in the air, hanging over them like a dark thunderstorm. As the hairs on the back of their neck stood on end Angelique looked at Julia and finally broke their silence, "I get the distinct feeling we’re going to find something here today." Julia nodded her head slowly in agreement, "Yes, and when we do… I don’t think we’re going to like it." Chapter 32As they peered into the darkness they noticed the door to Quentin’s adjacent room open, looking at each other then back at the door they quickly made they’re way over to it. As Angelique looked into the next room the first thing that caught her eye was the beautiful magenta colored horn of Quentin’s old gramophone. Cautiously she walked over to it, her hand making contact with the chilly surface of the horn. As she touched it she could swear she started to hear the haunting melody of the waltz… and his voice as he recited the lyrics in an almost unearthly tone.
"Shadows of the night, Angelique snatched back her hand quickly, unnerved at hearing Quentin’s voice again after so many years. The waltz abruptly stopped. "What’s the matter Angelique?" Julia asked in a hushed whisper. Angelique turned to Julia… "Did you hear that?" Julia gave her a confused look and answered, "Hear what?" Angelique shook her head and began to walk away from the gramophone, giving it one last curious glance. "Never mind… I just thought – Julia! Look there! I don’t remember a door there, is that a secret panel?" Julia looked over to where Angelique was pointing. Her vision was not what it used to be, but she could still make out the image of an open door across the darkened room. "I never knew there was a secret panel there…" Julia said as her voice trailed off. Angelique went over to the door and stuck her head into the darkened space. "Looks like a passage, I think if we’re going to find anything it’s going to be in there. Wait here Julia." Stepping into the abyss she followed the short passageway to a room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she let out a small gasp as she saw the porcelain figures sitting around the table. They looked so lifelike yet she knew they were not from the moment she laid eyes on them. The skin so creamy white, smooth, complete perfection. And they sat perfectly still, and the room was deathly quiet. She could make out a grandfather clock standing against one of the walls but it didn’t seem to be running. "Julia" Angelique whispered back into the passage. "Julia, come in hear and bring some kind of light with you… a candle, anything!" As she heard Julia say "OK" she turned back towards the long wooden table. A room with a hidden entry, no windows and apparently no other way out… with only a long wooden table, a run-down clock and the ghastly porcelain figures. What was going on and what did it all mean? After another minute Julia joined Angelique at the room’s doorway, a candle in her hand. "My god." Julia said horrified, "So this is what happened to the Collins Family!" Angelique snapped her head back to Julia, "But these aren’t real people Julia, they’re just porcelain figures." "I get the feeling that they’re a LOT more than that Angelique… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just a feeling. Nick told me about a dream he had a while back; everything is just like he described. He even told me the names of the porcelain figures around this table… and one came to life." Taking the candle Angelique walked over to the head of the table nearest the doorway. Leaning over she saw a nametag and read it out loud. "Elizabeth Collins Stoddard" "What?" Julia said, shocked. "But Nick sad the names of the 1897 Collins family." "Very curious…" Angelique said, "But what he saw was the result of a dream… and as far as I’m aware we are in no dream." "What are the rest of the names?" Julia asked, "It might be important." Angelique walked around the table slowly, reading out the names as she went.
"Roger Collins, Lucien LaCroix, David Collins." She looked
up, "Who’s Lucien?" "Ah, I see… Quentin is at the other head of the table, I hope that doesn’t mean we’re to late." She said as she continued inaudibly, at least to Julia, "still beautiful my dear." Angelique walked over to the next figure, "Carolyn Stoddard". She stopped at the figure next to Carolyn’s, blinking twice at the name…"My god! Barnabas!" she hissed. Kneeling down and touching the porcelain face. "Is this where you’ve been all these long years my darling." Angelique whispered to him. "We’re going to do our best to save them all, aren’t we Angelique?" Standing up Angelique whipped around as her eyes shimmered. "Damn right we are." "Who’s the last figure Angelique, I can’t see a thing in here." "Victoria Winters" "Vicky!" Julia said, a little more loudly than she had intended. Her voice bounced between the four walls in the tiny room. "So Petofi was responsible for what happened to her as well…" "It would seem so Julia. If you’re right… if Petofi has amassed enough power to imprison the Collins family inside these statues then I’m afraid we’re in a lot of trouble." Angelique said as she walked back over to Quentin’s statue. "Which statue came alive in Nick’s dream Julia?" she asked curiously. "Quentin’s – or rather Petofi’s. You see, he said that the statue in his dream was wearing black gloves and when it attacked Nick the statue’s right hand… fell off." Julia explained. "I see, so the statue in Nick’s dream was of Petofi masquerading in Quentin’s body." Angelique concluded, looking over at Julia. "Yes, that’s the only explanation I can come to." "Then how do you explain the fact that THIS statue of Quentin isn’t wearing any gloves?" Julia blinked, baffled. "I don’t know." Angelique walked over to the old grandfather clock, the time read midnight but the clock was not ticking. It had probably stopped years ago. Turning she caught sight of a shadow in one of the corners of the room, moving towards it she realized it was a body. "Quentin!" Angelique cried out. He was flat on his back and she couldn’t believe that they’d been in the room this long and hadn’t noticed him lying there. He seemed to be unconscious and was unusually cold but she could see that he was breathing. Grabbing hold of one of his hands she squeezed it tightly as she softly told him that he was going to be alright now. Julia started to walk over but Angelique suddenly let go of Quentin’s hand, letting it drop to the ground with a thud. Standing up she turned to Julia, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Julia, this Quentin is wearing gloves. Was Quentin wearing black
gloves when you last saw him?"
"Exactly, Julia… I think-" Angelique looked at her Barnabas. Now a frozen figure trapped for eternity in a cold, hard tomb. Then she looked at Quentin’s porcelain face and back at the unconscious body that was once his. As her eyes met Julia’s again they were burning red with hatred for Count Petofi. "Not if I can help it Julia. We’re going to do everything… and I mean everything we can to bring these two back to us and give the Count… exactly what he deserves." Chapter 33 The Present Julia followed Angelique out of the disturbing secret room, and back into Quentin’s room. "Angelique, what are we going to do?" "First, we’re going to trap that monster in Quentin’s, now convenient, secret room just like he did to the rest of the Collins family." "What goes around, comes around." Julia quipped softly. "Precisely." "How are we going to trap him in there Angelique, even if we jam the door… he has powers. He might still be able to get out." Julia asks, studying the secret panel. Angelique looked at Julia mischievously, grabbing her attention. "You just leave that to me. Right now there is something I’d like you to do while I attend to this." "What’s that?" "Leave me now, find some more candles and set up a small table and two chairs in the drawing room. I believe Roger kept the card table in the study." "A Seance?" "Of course, dear Julia. What else?"
"Who are we going to contact?" Julia briskly left the room, and Angelique immediately went to work. ~*~ 1897
Secret, secret… who’s got a secret? ~ Judith stepped into the Collinwood foyer, the large front doors shutting hard behind her. Setting down her suitcase she smiled, happy. She was finally back home. Her happiness was short lived however when the only thing that greeted her was the sound of the storm raging outside, and an empty house. A chill crept up her spine. Something was definitely going on at Collinwood tonight, despite the stony silence. The sound of another carriage stopping in front of Collinwood broke her out of her reverie. Judith opened the front door to find Beth Chavez rushing towards Collinwood, as the carriage sped away as fast as it came. "Beth!" Judith declared once she was at the door, "You haven’t been out all night, have you? "Miss Judith! It’s so nice to see you again, has the doctor released you from the sanitarium for good?" Beth asked, as she closed the front doors and removed her hat. She was soaking wet. "Indeed he has. Beth, what is going on around here? I haven’t seen or heard a soul since I arrived. The doctor and I tried to phone several times to let Edward know that I was to arrive tonight and no one answered. Not even a servant! And may I ask, where have you been?" Judith queried. "At Mrs. Fillmore’s, it was the oddest thing Miss Judith, Edward took me there earlier this afternoon. He didn’t tell me why. I think he wanted to get me out of the house. I waited for him to send someone to come and get me, but no one ever came. So I decided to call a carriage, I had to get back here Miss Collins. I have the feeling something is terribly wrong!" "So strange…" Judith said, almost to herself. "I’ve had the same feeling, and I can’t imagine why Edward would try to get rid of you." "Neither can I." "Beth. We’re going to find out exactly what’s going on in this house tonight." ~*~ The Present Angelique smiled as she finished the spell; Petofi wasn’t getting out of that room any time soon. At least, not until SHE wanted him out. ‘Ah, the sweet irony of life.’ Angelique thought to herself. ‘ First, you held me captive in that cave in 1897 and now I hold you captive in Quentin’s secret room.’ Angelique heard something from the other side of the door. A slight shuffling of feet… he was awake. ‘Now the real fun begins!’ Angelique thought gleefully. The sound got louder as he approached the panel, until he was right on the opposite side of it. Petofi, in Quentin’s body, reached for the panel’s trigger to open in. He smiled at his own achievements. He could hardly contain his joy… he had successfully switched places with Quentin Collins and imprisoned that miserable Collins family for all time. He was not filled with joy, however, when the panel didn’t open after he pulled the trigger. Frowning, he tried it again. And again. It wouldn’t open. Petofi focused all the powers of his hand on the door in front of him… yet it still didn’t move. Not even an inch. "What the-?!" Petofi said in frustration as he started to pound on the door with his fists. "My, my. I see you still have quite the temper… Count Petofi." Angelique said smuggle from the other side of the door. Petofi stopped pounding; his confusion turned to rage… ‘It was Angelique!’ "You won’t be opening this door Petofi, only I can open it." She continued. "You! How dare you continue to interfere with my plans and me! Open this door NOW!" "I don’t feel like it… and as far as my interference, I’ll interfere whenever and however I please where Barnabas OR Quentin is concerned." "I don’t give a damn about Barnabas. Quentin, on the other hand, is all mine. There is absolutely nothing that you can do to save him now. You’re too late Angelique. He’s already dead. Do you hear me?! DEAD!" Petofi shouted, furious for here interruption in his plans. She could prove to be a problem. Angelique’s eyes shimmered with hatred, her powers feeding off of the strong feeling like a leech. The more hate she felt, the more powerful she felt. It was the way it had always been. Her voice dripped with venom as she answered him. "We’ll just see about that. Don’t ever underestimate me, Count. It would be a grave mistake. I’m going to see to it that you’re taken care of… permanently." She paused for a moment, and then added "Quite a switch, isn’t it Petofi? Me holding YOU hostage for a change. So long!" Angelique laughed, as she turned around and walked out of the room. The sound of Petofi’s frantic pounding and screaming following her out. It pleased her immensely. ~ "Julia, I see you’ve got everything ready. That’s good, I don’t want to waste any time. We’re going to begin right away." Angelique said, as she met Julia in the Collinwood drawing room. "Who are we contacting?" Angelique rolled her eyes, as if the question was ridiculous. "Quentin, of course." "Then Quentin IS dead?" Julia asked sadly. "I’m afraid it seems that way. But if it is true, then his death might just become Petofi’s downfall." "I don’t get it, but I’ll go through with it anyway, if it will help rid us of that scum once and for all." "Oh, indeed it will. You see, Petofi defeated me… temporarily, by forcing me to fight two enemies at once. You can’t concentrate all your power on both thus weakening you and allowing an enemy to win, that you otherwise might have been able to defeat." Angelique explained. Julia was beginning to understand.
"I will be the first enemy…" Angelique glanced at Julia and raised an eyebrow. "Of course it will." Chapter 34Present Time Julia took a seat first, she hoped beyond hope that Angelique’s plan would work. Angelique took her place opposite her. "I assume both of us have had enough practice in seances. I don’t think there is any need for me to explain everything, is there?" "I know how it goes." Angelique gave a quick nod and placed her hands on the table. Julia did the same, their fingertips touching. "Concentrate on contacting Quentin…" Angelique began softly as they both closed their eyes picturing the Quentin they both knew well… "We seek a spirit this night, one that can help us defeat a common enemy. Quentin Collins, we call upon you for we need your help and in return we may be able to help you…" Julia took a deep breath, the air around them was cold and damp, or was it just her imagination? "Quentin, please… there is an enemy in our midst that must be destroyed, we need your help… appear to us!" continued Angelique, but the room was silent. Cold. Still. As still as death itself. ~ Soft whispers. That’s all they were. Summoning, calling, begging him to come to them. To help. The whisper was so faint… so very far away; he was barely conscience of it. ‘Please, just let me be’ his mind thought, irritated. He just wanted to sleep, to have that beautiful peace that had he had constantly been denied. "Quentin" His name was said again, no more than a breath on the wind. But it was there, and he could feel a force stirring around him, inside him… he was being pulled out. The darkness around him becoming lighter, like the dawn of a day. "Quentin, please come to us! Help us! Time is short!" the voice continued. ‘Who was it? Who was calling him?’ He was sure he knew… "Quentin" the voice said again, hypnotic… sensual. And then, he knew whom it was who was calling him. "Angelique" the ghost of Quentin Collins said out loud. The sound seemed to penetrate the realm of death, cracking into the realm of life like a shard of glass and he knew instantly that she had heard him. Quentin suddenly felt tremendously powerful forces yank him towards her, the darkness lifting as if a new day had come… and perhaps it had. He recognized the room he was in immediately; he’d had many drinks in this room in an attempt to drown out his sorrow. It never seemed to work. The furniture was much different then it had been in 1897, yet it was still very familiar to him. He was aware that he’d had more than one life and more than one memory. He remembered it all, even the first time he died and tried to possess poor David Collins, and Quentin wondered how it was possible. He was in the drawing room of Collinwood, it looked as it had when he rescued Nick from Petofi’s ghost so he knew what time he had come to. He was not yet visible to the two ladies sitting around the table in the middle of the room, Angelique and Julia, but he could see and hear them perfectly. Yet there was one unique difference, there were no colors. None. Everything was shades of gray, black and white… as if he were watching an old B&W movie. "I heard Quentin a minute ago Julia, didn’t you?" Angelique whispered as she and Julia sat around the small table. "Yes, it was faint but I’m sure I heard it." Julia confirmed, and Angelique tried a final time to get him to come to them. "Quentin Collins, if you can hear us please answer. We desperately need your help!" "Your wish, my dear Angelique… is my command!" Julia and Angelique jumped, his voice suddenly very near had startled them… no longer faint. Julia had her eyes fixed by the drawing room door, and Angelique turned around so she could see what Julia was staring at so intently. Quentin was materializing before them, and in an instant he was there. ‘Just as I remember him.’ Angelique thought to herself taking in his lean figure clothed in late 19th century attire and sporting the long sideburns of the era. He looked at them both, and seemed thoroughly amused. Angelique was the first to speak, as a smile finally reached her lips. "You took long enough." She said half teasingly, and half seriously. She wasn’t going to show it, but she had started to worry. "Keep it up and you’ll see how quickly I can leave, my dear." "Alright, alright… I’m sorry. We need your help Quentin…" "So I gathered," he interrupted "I did ask Julia to summon you so am I correct in assuming the enemy you need my help with is Count Petofi?" "That’s right" Julia answered. "At least something went right." He deadpanned. "What is your plan Angelique?" "Do you remember when Petofi temporarily defeated my powers in 1897, Quentin?" "How could I forget."
"He did so by making me fight two enemies at once…" "Exactly"
Quentin smiled wide, his teeth exposed. They very much reminded
Angelique of a shark’s ready mouth waiting for its prey. "I like
that, what exactly do you want me to do?" ~*~ 1897 Beth rung her hands nervously, she was standing in the drawing room with Judith. They had searched the entire main house and found no one – anywhere. The only person they found was the cook, and she didn’t know anything. "I can’t imagine why the West Wing is locked up." Judith said to Beth. Beth shook her head sadly; she could feel that something was terribly wrong. It was as if something important to her had been taken away, something more important to her than anything else in her life… someone. Beth shuddered involuntarily; of course she knew what, or rather who it was… "Quentin" she breathed, not even aware that she had said his name out loud. "What about Quentin?" Judith asked curiously. "I-I-" She stuttered, Beth didn’t know whether to confide in Judith or not. But there was no one else she could talk to about this, certainly not Edward or Trask. Quentin was no where to be found, and she needed someone else. Why did this have to happen now? When she and Quentin finally seemed to understand each other, when he had finally shown her his real feelings, and said those words she had waited to hear from his lips with real feeling, for what seemed like eternity… ‘I love you, Beth’. So different Quentin had been the last couple days. He had showed her a side she had given up on thinking that he possessed… caring… love. A single tear trickled down Beth’s cheek, and she tried to wipe it away before Judith noticed. Too late. "Beth! What’s the matter? Why are you upset?" "Miss Judith… I just know something horrible has happened to Quentin!" she cried. "What are you talking about? Quentin’s in Paris." "What?!" Beth practically shouted, apologizing immediately when she saw the startled look on Judith’s face. "I-I’m sorry Miss Judith. But Quentin didn’t go to Paris." "But Edward… he told me that Quentin was leaving immediately, and that was a few days ago." "I don’t know why Edward told you that, but Quentin was here yesterday. I was with him. And he had no plans on going to Paris." Judith looked confused and angry at the same time. "Why would Edward lie to me? What in the world is going on around here?" "I’m not sure Miss Judith, but I have a feeling the answer is in the West Wing." ~*~ Present Time Petofi was furious. After much effort, he was still unable to open the panel and was stuck in the small, damp room. ‘Damn Angelique! No one did this to Count Andreas Petofi! She would pay for this.’ He looked over at the long table inside the secret room, and at the frozen porcelain statues around it. Oh, how he had relished destroying them, but now… with their lifeless eyes staring… it almost frightened him. NO! Nothing frightened Petofi, especially his own victims. Petofi’s eyes rested upon the empty spot at the head of the table… where Quentin’s statue was supposed to be. Petofi blinked to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Quentin’s statue had been there a minute ago… what he was seeing now was impossible. Sluggishly Petofi made his way to the table in the center of the room, the silence creeping into his mind. His footsteps echoing across the cold stone slabs that were the floor. The other statues appeared unchanged, but it was the empty seat at the opposite head of the table that was taunting him so. It suddenly came to his attention that he could see his breath. Could he before? He didn’t think so. A sound broke the silence, it seemed quite innocent… but it wasn’t. Petofi sucked in a large breath and held it in as he listened carefully. "Tick, tick, tick…" It was the clock. The clock that he himself had stopped earlier. He turned towards the old grandfather clock and time seemed to stand still as his eyes reached their destination. The grandfather clock was indeed ticking, and leaning against it was a smirking Quentin Collins. |
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