Haunting Memories
Dark Shadows/Forever Knight Fan Fiction
By Scarlett Burns
Rated: T

Summary: Even thirty years later Collinwood is not free of its ghosts, nor is Quentin Collins. The house of tragedy drags up past memories for the remaining Collins, and threatens to swallow him up for good.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Part 6 (conclusion)

Chapter 35

The Present

Quentin was leaning against the clock, a smug look across his face and both arms crossed in front of his chest. Quentin didn’t say a word; he just starred at Petofi with piercing steel blue eyes.

"Impossible!" Petofi hissed, "I sent you back!"

"Enjoying my body, Petofi?" Quentin said finally, his eyes angry blue orbs. Petofi could practically see a storm raging inside them.

"More than you are Quentin, my boy."

Quentin arched an eyebrow, and Petofi knew that Quentin Collins was seeking vengeance, and it occurred to him then that he might have a bit of a problem.

"You’d better enjoy it while you can." Quentin said as he pointed to the face of the old grandfather clock by his side.

It was then that Petofi noticed it… the clock, it was ticking backwards.

Quentin smiled wickedly, "Petofi my boy, when that clock strikes midnight… again… your time in my body will be up!"

Petofi straightened up defiantly, determined not to show any fear.

"You don’t have the power Quentin."

"We’ll see about that."

~

A smile played across Angelique’s lips. Quentin was doing marvelously. Quentin had Petofi’s full attention, and she was certain that Petofi had no idea that Quentin was only a distraction. Now he was completely vulnerable to her powers and she could deal with him as she saw fit.

She sat in the drawing room, in front of the fireplace. Before her she had Quentin’s portrait which she would have to hide before she left, a clay doll and one of Petofi’s black gloves that she had snatched earlier. Beginning her incantation, Angelique picked up the clay doll and the glove as she stared intently at Quentin’s portrait. Not only was she going to try and destroy Petofi, she was going to try and undo what he’d done to Quentin.

~*~

1897

After a lot of searching Judith had managed to scrounge up a key to the West Wing. Now they found themselves in front of the door, Judith slipping the key into the lock.

Beth wished she didn’t have the hollow, hopeless feeling she had. She was sure they were going to find something hideous in the West Wing and she was pretty sure exactly where that thing was going to be… Quentin’s room.

Beth and Judith heard the snap of the lock and opening the door they made their way into the darkened, deserted halls of the West Wing.

~*~

The Present

Petofi watched the clock tick backwards.

Tick, Tick, Tick…

He looked at Quentin nastily. "You’re bluffing, you don’t have the power Quentin." He spat.

Quentin started to laugh, and it reminded Petofi of a roll of thunder as it roared louder and louder. Petofi hated to be laughed at and Quentin knew it.

"Stop it!" Petofi growled. He would be taken seriously or there would be hell to pay. "Stop laughing at me! I’m the one with the power, not you! You’re nothing! I’ll stop that clock myself, I still have the power of the hand!"

~

Angelique had just begun her incantation, kneeling beside the fireplace she had the clay doll in her hand. The doll was to represent Count Petofi. Grabbing his glove in the other hand she wrapped it around the doll loosely and started to work her magic.

~

Julia arrived back at the Collinsport Inn, to an anxious Nick.

"What’s happening?" Nick asked immediately, barely letting Julia get inside the door.

"I’m afraid that Petofi did indeed switch places with Quentin. But Angelique has a plan she’s carrying out as we speak. She told me to return here to let you know what’s going on, and wait for her to return. Basically she wanted me out of the way." Julia said, snickering slightly.

"I see, I hope she is able to help Quentin. Julia, I think it’s time that you told me the whole truth about Quentin Collins. He confided to me that he was born in 1870, but that’s all. I don’t know anything else. After all this, I think I deserve to know the full story… you can trust me."

Julia sighed and nodded, knowing that Nick could be trusted to keep Quentin’s secret. After all, Nick had a secret that was just as dark. "Very well, I’ll tell you everything that I know about Quentin, but you’d better sit down… it’s a long story."

~*~

1897

Judith and Beth stood at the door of Quentin’s entry room in shock. Quentin’s bedroom door had been hastily boarded up. Beth walked up to it first, gently touching one of the boards to make sure she wasn’t imagining it all.

She wasn’t.

"Miss Judith, these boards are only held on by a couple nails, will you help me pull these off?"

"Of course, we have to find out what’s being hidden behind this door."

Both grabbing hold of the top board they counted to three and tugged hard. The board gave way rather easily, it was apparent that whoever nailed the boards up was in a rush and didn’t do a very good job of it. Taking hold of the next plank and pulling hard they started to reveal the closed door underneath.

~*~

The Present

Petofi had tried, unsuccessfully, to stop the clock from ticking down to midnight. He couldn’t understand it! Why were his powers suddenly so useless to him? To top it all off, Quentin’s intent stare was starting to unnerve him, much as he hated to admit it. Without warning Petofi began to feel odd… disoriented and weak.

He looked at Quentin and the clock. If Quentin could do what he had threatened… he only had 5 minutes left.

"Count, you seem tense. Perhaps you’d like some music to help calm your nerves in these final few minutes you have left." Quentin taunted, as music began to fill the room. Petofi recognized it immediately. What else would Quentin play but his favorite piece, Shadows of the Night? His theme…

Petofi had never liked that song, it was much to melancholy for his tastes and certainly wasn’t welcome at a time like this.

"Quentin, you’re not going to be able to get rid of me… you’ll pay for this!"

"I’m already dead, there’s not much else you can do to me." Quentin laughed, he’d never had so much fun getting revenge on someone… and it felt good.

~*~

1897

Pulling off the last board Beth and Judith had only paused a moment when they heard music playing… Quentin’s music.

It sent chills up their spines, music doesn’t just begin playing and no one would play that particular piece but Quentin himself.

Judith grasped the doorknob, her hand shaky, the more unusual things they discovered the more frightened they both became. Turning the knob she opened the door and entered the room first followed closely by Beth. Quentin’s room was pitch black; they couldn’t see a thing. Carefully Beth made her way towards the small table where she knew Quentin had kept a candle and matches. Her hands searched over the table until one hand made contact with the candleholder’s cold brass surface. It tipped over, the sounds startling them both. As Beth fumbled around for the matches and holder she thought to herself that Quentin’s music had never sounded more eerie and depressing to her than it did at this very moment.

Finally holding the candle Beth struck a match and lit it. A dim light started to emanate from it and slowly filled the room. Just enough light for her and Judith to see the most horrifying sight either of them had ever seen, lying directly in front of them on the cold, hard floor.

Quentin Collins was lying there, a pool of blood spilled under and around him, seeping into the wood floor.

Judith cried out in horror.

And Beth began to scream.

~*~

Present Time

Angelique was almost finished with her spell. Only the final and most crucial elements left to complete. Quentin had done splendidly. Angelique was positive that Quentin had Petofi’s full and complete attention. Petofi had no idea that she was working her magic against him. Quentin’s music echoed throughout the house, another trick of Quentin’s to keep Petofi distracted.

Angelique placed Petofi’s glove over the doll and kneeled by the fireplace as it roared to life.

"Master of the darkness, I call upon you now to help me in defeating a man by the name of Count Andreas Petofi. He who claims of power that is all his own. Power that he uses in your favor, power given to this man by you. Yet he defies you, great god of the underworld and all things evil, by daring to proclaim that there is but one god, and that god is himself! Master, you cannot let him continue to shame you. He should be punished! She should be taught a lesson that only you can teach him, one that he will never forget! Teach him that you are for more powerful than he could ever hope to be! Be with me now as I place this doll into the fire, made into the likeness of Petofi, let him burn for your glory! Let Andreas Petofi be destroyed, and his soul yours for the taking, but spare the body of Quentin Collins for years ago I promised his soul to you and I plan to fulfill that promise! Burn Petofi… burn… burn… burn!"

With that said, Angelique tossed the doll into the fire. She could feel that her master was with her now, feel his dark powers coursing through her body and she knew that Petofi would die. Never had she felt her masters power flow so strongly within her.

Angelique watched with glee as the doll and glove began to burn. It would happen now.

~

Petofi began to feel hot, as a burning sensation swept through his entire body. He was hot… so hot. The dizziness he felt before intensified. Quentin’s ghost stood stone still, watching him with satisfaction as Petofi stumbled, reaching out for something to steady himself. But nothing was close to him and he fell onto the floor, his body in agony. Petofi let out a cry and started writhing in pain.

Quentin watched. Angelique seemed to have done it. Finally, at long last Petofi would die.

Quentin suddenly felt odd; making his glee short lived. He felt heavier than he had before and patches of color started to leak through his ghostly black and white vision. Quentin blinked in an attempt to clear his vision, but the patches were still there and appeared to by slowly growing as it ate up the gray shades.

The grandfather clock struck midnight for the second time that night and Quentin forced his attention back onto Petofi, in his body, lying on the floor in front of him. As the clock chimed, his body went limp and he noticed a thick vapor seemed to be rising from his body on the floor. Blacker than the black darkness around them it rose like a heavy steam. It was thick, and as it rose a deformed and hideous form seemed to pull together. The smell of rotting flesh filled the room and pure evil seemed to pour out of the vaporous cloud, trying to contaminate whatever and whomever it could with its vaporous skeleton like hands. Quentin backed away from it, until his back was firmly pushed against the wall.

"My god" he whispered, knowing what this horrendous thing in front of him was… it was Petofi’s soul. It didn’t even seem human.

‘It’ saw Quentin there, as it seemed to finish leaking out of the body on the floor. And it started to come after him. Quentin was not ready for this, and tried to dematerialize… but he couldn’t. It was as if he was halfway between death and life, rooted in place and unable to do anything he panicked. He looked over and realized that ‘it’ was in the path of the doorway. The only way out of the small room and he would probably never make it if he made a run for it.

Quentin was trapped.

And there didn’t seem to be any way out.

Chapter 36

The Present

Just as Quentin was about to give up hope, a void seemed to form below the thing that was Petofi. Inside the dark void fire seemed to rage.

‘The fire’s of hell?’ Quentin wondered… and feared.

Petofi stopped as he noticed what was happening below him and his hideous ‘face’ seemed to look down at the interruption.

In a matter of seconds a huge claw like hand reached out from the fires inside the black hole. Red with reptile like scales and hideously long predator-like claws it appeared to grab a handful of the black, misty goop that was Petofi’s soul and then plunged quickly back into the fiery void. It seemed to pull Petofi with it, and he began to scream. It was inhuman, animal-like… unearthly and continued until the last of Petofi’s black soul was pulled into the precipice.

Angelique ran into the secret room just in time to see Petofi pulled into the depths of hell, where he truly belonged. The wide-eyed spirit of Quentin watching in horror, disgust and glee at the sight before him.

As the last remnants of Petofi were sucked up, Quentin began to feel dizzy and before he even knew what was happening he blacked out.

Angelique watched as Quentin’s spirit disappeared before her eyes, and hoped that her master spared him like she had pleaded. Angelique spotted Quentin’s body on the floor, unharmed. Rushing over to Quentin’s side she gently lifted up his wrist, feeling for a pulse. She breathed a genuine sigh of relief when she found one. As much as they had bickered in 1897, she couldn’t help but admit that she did like Quentin. He was unlike anyone else she had ever met.

Quentin was still unconscious, but he was alive.

Angelique was startled by an unusual sound, like a clay pot shattering. Looking over at the long table she watched as the porcelain figures of the Collins family and friends began to break apart. Piece by piece the porcelain fell away, the pieces falling to the floor and shattering when they made impact with the hard stone floor.

Quentin started to stir beside her and his eyes fluttered open. This breathing unusually quick and irregular. Angelique helped him sit up and Quentin looked at her questioningly, having no clue what had just happened. Angelique gave him a true smile, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Quentin."

"Huh? What happened? Is Petofi really destroyed?!" Quentin said, as he looked at Angelique. She was blurry at first but slowly came into focus. His vision normal once again, no black and white, no patches.

"Indeed, Petofi is in hell… where he belongs. And you have your life, and body back. I’ll explain the rest to you… later."

Quentin began to say something else but Angelique interrupted quickly, "Look Quentin!" she exclaimed, pointing to the table and statues.

"My god, what’s happening?"

"I’m not quite sure, Quentin… I’m not quite sure."

Almost all the porcelain had fallen away, and what was being revealed underneath took Angelique and Quentin’s breath away.

Underneath the porcelain likenesses were the people themselves. Quentin remembered the vision he’d had before being taken back to 1897 and realized that in its own, weird way it had shown him the truth. His family had been trapped beneath the porcelain, only Petofi could have come up with such a devious plot. Now that Petofi had finally been destroyed, they were at last released from his spell.

Quentin tried to get to his feet, but felt extremely weak and fell back.

"Take it easy, Quentin. You’ll get your strength back in a day or two, coming back to life takes a lot out of you, you know." Angelique kidded as she helped him to his feet. Once standing, Quentin swayed a bit and Angelique kept one hand around his arm to steady him.

They both stood there in silence as the last pieces broke away and they all began to stir… as if they were waking from a long sleep. Angelique looked at Quentin and asked, "Can you stand on your own?" and let go when Quentin nodded yes. He wobbled a little, then got his balance and gave Angelique a weak thumbs up letting Angelique know that he’d be OK.

Angelique turned back towards the table and made her way to Barnabas. He was moving his arms slowly, as if they were stiff and soar… and they probably were. Angelique had put her feelings about Barnabas aside so that she could do what had to be done, but now her feelings seemed to pour out of her, almost uncontrollably. Tears spilled from her large, green eyes as she ran to Barnabas’ side and wrapped her arms around him lovingly.

"I was so afraid I’d lost you." She whispered into his ear.

"Angelique? What’s going on? Where am I and what are you doing here?!" Barnabas asked, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"I’ll explain it all to you later, but get yourself together first."

The others around the table looked around confused, no one seemed to know where they were or what exactly had happened.

Angelique let go of Barnabas for a minute, as Quentin walked towards the table, still looking a little off balance. Maggie heard his shuffling first and turned her head so she could see the source of the noise. Gasping she popped out of her chair, "Quentin!"

She held her hands up as if shielding herself, Quentin realized that she must still remember the ghost… which didn’t seem to make much sense, yet what did? Time held many mysteries, and it seemed to want to keep them. His expression turned pained as Maggie continued cringing, "Stay away from me!"

"Please, don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you." Quentin said, distressed by her fear. As he reached the end of the table, he stumbled a bit and held on to the nearest chair for support. He knew what he’d done to all of them and felt terrible about it. No matter what his motives, he always seemed to hurt people.

Angelique interjected for Quentin, "Don’t be alarmed, he isn’t going to harm you. He’s been a victim of a spell just as all of you have been."

"But he’s the ghost!" Maggie said, still unsure.

"He’s not that Quentin, Maggie. He’s a descendant, his name is Quentin Collins but he’s not the same one that haunted Collinwood." Angelique explained to all of them. They looked slightly appeased, but were still suspicious of the mysterious ‘cousin’.

Barnabas stared at Quentin knowingly, thinking it had to be the same Quentin and was backed up by Quentin’s somewhat guilty look. But he pretended that they were strangers, he’d have to talk with Quentin privately… later. "Are you OK… Mr. Collins?"

"Yes, yes. I’m just a little weak, that’s all."

Angelique spoke up, "I think we should all go now, I can explain it all to you guys on the way into town… much time has passed, more than you know, I’m afraid."

LaCroix stared down Quentin. He didn’t buy what that other woman had said, not for a minute. He knew too much about Quentin and about the supernatural to buy it. He was hiding it well, but Quentin still looked a bit guilty about something.

Angelique ushered everyone out of the room and LaCroix deliberately held back so that he and Quentin would be the last to leave. LaCroix caught Quentin by the shirtsleeve as he began to leave and told him seriously, "I don’t buy it for a minute, there’s no way you’re just a descendant."

Quentin looked at him for a moment as he thought about what he should say. He thought about lying, but decided that it would have been pointless. Nick already knew some of the truth and he was bound to tell LaCroix. Besides, he knew what Nick and LaCroix were and he didn’t think they would take the risk of allowing their secret to be told.

"You’re right, of course. But I am no danger to you LaCroix. We’re taking all of you to town now, and we’ll meet Nick there… he’ll be able to explain a lot to this to you. Please… don’t say anything about this to anyone else."

LaCroix looked Quentin over suspiciously, "Alright, your secret is safe… for now. But you are the same Quentin I met in 1897, aren’t you?"

"Yes, I am."

LaCroix was taken aback by Quentin’s honesty, and was intrigued by him. The man before him must have quite a story to tell.

"We must site down and… talk. Soon. You have my curiosity positively peaked."

Quentin smirked, a vampire that was interested in his story. For some reason it struck him as funny.

"We’ll do that. Now I think we better catch up to everyone else before they miss us."

~*~

1987

Beth had cried until she could cry no more. Judith had tried to console her but soon realized that Beth had been inconsolable. Beth sat in her room now, feeling depressed and utterly alone.

‘What had happened?’ she thought to herself, hopelessly. Someone had definitely murdered Quentin, but who? And most importantly… why? Was it possible that someone else had found out Quentin’s secret, and was so cruel and unfeeling that they had killed him?

She had a feeling that Edward had something to do with it. His actions had been far to suspicious, trying to get rid of her all day. But was Edward really capable of murder? She hadn’t thought so before… but now she wasn’t too sure.

~

Judith was standing over Quentin’s body. She couldn’t believe it, such a horrible end for her little brother… and just when he seemed to be changing for the better.

After everything, she couldn’t deny the fact that she still cared for him. He was, after all, her brother.

An envelope on Quentin’s desk caught Judith’s attention, after picking it up she saw it was addressed to Beth, from Quentin.

~

Knocking on the door softly Judith heard Beth ask her to come in.

"Beth… I found this in Quentin’s room. It’s addressed to you… it’s from Quentin." Judith said softly, handing her the letter.

Tentatively, Beth took the letter and watched Judith leave the room.

Beth sat there staring at the envelope for what seemed like hours. Her name seemed to call to her silently, scrawled in Quentin’s distinctive handwriting.

Slowly she opened the envelope and removed the letter from Quentin.

Beth fought to control the tears that threatened to break her resolve. As she finished the letter a tear ran down her face, she missed him already.

"You were worthy, Quentin. You were…" she whispered.

She didn’t know how she was going to go on, but knew that she must. Quentin had been her reason for living… now he was gone. But he had given her a new reason, and she wasn’t going to let him down.

Pulling herself together with renewed strength she took the letter and set off to find Judith. Edward and Trask weren’t going to get away with what they’d done.

Quentin hadn’t gotten away with it, and it was an accident. So they weren’t going to get away with it either…

They weren’t going to get away with murder.

Not if she had anything to do with it.

~*~

The Present

Nick sat dumbfounded as Julia finished the strange story that was Quentin Collins’ life. "…the rest only Quentin himself can tell you."

"I had no idea that Werewolves existed. In 800 years I had never heard of a real one, never seen one. After all my years of wandering… I was sure that they were only a myth." Nick told her, shaking his head in disbelief.

Julia started to answer but a knock on the door interrupted her and she got up to answer it, praying that it would be good news. Opening the door she saw Angelique first.

"Angelique! What happened?"

"That seems to be a most popular question today." Angelique kidded, stepping inside the hotel room. I’ve brought some friends of yours along with me." Angelique smiled as all the missing members of the family, and friends entered the room one by one. Julia nearly fainted when she laid her eyes upon Barnabas. She had given up hope and thought him dead by now. "Barnabas!" she uttered, unable to believe her eyes.

"Julia! It’s so nice to see you again!" he said as they embraced one another. Over Barnabas’ shoulder she saw Quentin walk into the room, giving Julia her second shock in one minute.

"Quentin! You’re OK!"

Quentin smiled at her, "I am now Julia. Thank you – for everything."

"But how is all this possible? I mean…"

"Julia, Petofi has finally been destroyed and I don’t think he’ll be coming back for a very, very long time." Angelique announced triumphantly.

"Let’s hope never." Quentin added.

Julia looked over at Nick, who was embracing his vampire master, happy to see him safe and sound.

"Nick" Julia said, getting his attention. "Is Petofi’s mark gone? The four leaf clover on your hand?"

Nick looked down and was surprised to find that if was indeed gone.

"Yes, it’s gone." He answered in astonishment.

"I think you’ll find that you’re… back to normal now." Julia said, being careful not to reveal his secret to anyone in the room who might overhear.

Looking back at Barnabas she smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I’m so happy you’re back Barnabas. You’ve always been special to me."

"Thank you Julia, and you have always been the best friend any man could have." Julia’s eyes began to water as she smiled. She had waited so long for him to notice her. "Thank you…" she whispered to him.

Looking around Julia saw that everyone was busy chatting. Angelique seemed to be the woman of the hour, being bombarded with question after question. Nick and LaCroix looked like they were catching up, and Julia suspected that Nick was informing LaCroix about some of Quentin’s well kept secrets. With that thought her eyes wandered back over to Quentin, standing alone as he looked out the hotel room window at the silver moon that hung in the sky.

"Excuse me a minute, Barnabas."

Quentin was staring out the window intently, looking somber.

"You look a little lonely Quentin. Mind if I keep you company for a minute?"

Quentin stopped staring at the moon and looked at Julia for a moment, "Julia, you can keep me company anytime. Of course I don’t mind, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had."

Julia smiled, touched by his words. "What were you just thinking about?" she asked softly.

Quentin didn’t want to tell her the truth. He didn’t want to tell her that he missed Beth, prayed that she found his note, and that everything seemed too good to be true. He had an awful feeling that things weren’t over, that they never would be… for him. Yet, he saw Petofi die. So why was it so hard for him to believe?

"I just wonder how easily the family will adjust to the 21st century." Quentin lied, trying to sound chipper.

Julia stared into his eyes for a moment, she knew he wasn’t telling the truth but decided to let it go for now. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it at the moment and was trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, you haven’t had any trouble and you had a lot farther to go!" Julia joked quietly, so no one else overheard.

Quentin’s eyes brightened a bit, and he laughed. "I guess you’re right, Julia!"

"Aren’t I always?"

Laughing Quentin nodded, "Of course, how could I forget?" As Quentin watched everyone talk excitedly to each other before him he decided that he’d let himself be happy today, and put aside his other feelings. Everyone was happy, and he hadn’t seen the Collins’ family happy in a long time. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for him to accept? Yes, that had to be it.

Smiling Quentin put an arm around Julia, giving her a little squeeze "Julia. For once I think that the Collins’ family will finally be all right."

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