by Amy Cross
"Great," says Darla, filling in her form. "Everyone's alive. Everyone lives. No-one has to die. Ever. What a fucking great world we live in. Pass me a glass of unicorn milk".
I look at the form, then I scrunch it up. "I need to go and look for something," I say. "Can I meet you later?"
"You don't want to try for a job?" she asks.
"You need to find Eddie, I need to find Duncan. I can't wait any longer, I have to go and find someone who can help. can I just meet you somewhere later?"
Although she's clearly not happy, Darla nods. "Do you know the End of the World?"
I stare at her.
"It's a pub. In Camden. It's right outside the tube station. Meet me there at eight tonight. Drinks are on me".
I smile. "You haven't got any money," I say.
"True," she replies, finishing her form and signing at the bottom. "But I've got brains, ambition and great tits. I'll have something worked out by eleven". She holds up her gloved fist. "If nothing else, I can take off my glove and charge people a quid a time to touch my disgusting hand. You just know there are people out there who'd get off on that".
"True," I say.
As I leave the building and head out alone into the windy London afternoon, I try to think of somewhere to go for information about Duncan. If only I knew something about him: where he lived; who his friends were; what he did with his days. But I haven't a clue. It's crazy how little I got to know him before he vanished, and now I'm left with nothing. Which means that there's only one place I can go for information, only one chance I have, only one person who might be able to tell me what I need to know. There's only one person alive who I think might know where Duncan is. But it's not someone I ever thought I'd have to see again...
3
The passageway is dark and I don't have a torch, so I edge my way along with just my mobile phone as a source of light. Every so often, there's a rumbling sound as a tube train passes in a nearby tunnel. It's funny how hundreds of people are hurtling past this place, just metres away, with no idea that something so dark and grotesque exists beneath the streets of London. They'd be shocked if they knew anything about the werewolves, about how werewolf society used to flourish in this city, about how the ruins of the pit remain and the wolf remains trapped inside.
For a while, I worry that I've got lost. I can't seem to find the entrance to the chamber, and I worry that I'll be trapped down here forever, doomed to wander in circles until I die. But finally, and suddenly, I come across the entrance that I'm looking for, and I walk through into the partially collapsed chamber. Last time I was here, I was with Duncan and Olivia. Now Duncan is missing and Olivia is dead. It's just me. Alone. With Matt DiMera.
The chamber is ominously quiet. Matt was at the bottom of the pit when Duncan forced the walls to collapse, burying Matt under a pile of rubble. Duncan said it would take Matt years to dig his way out, and it's only been a few weeks. Still, I was kind of worried that I'd get here and find a gap in the rubble, and that Matt would have escaped again. But it's clear that he hasn't. The rubble has barely moved. Even in the dark, with just my phone to light the way, I can see that Matt remains well and truly trapped in the pit.
I listen. Beneath the rubble, there's a distant scrabbling sound. It's Matt. All this time, and he's still just trying to fight his way out. He'll make it, too. Eventually. He'll reach the surface. But Duncan will be waiting for him, or at least that's the plan. And if Duncan can't make it, I'll be waiting instead. But that's crazy. Of course Duncan will make it. Duncan is going to be fine. I just have to track him down and make sure he's okay.
"Hi, Matt," I say, my voice wavering a little.
The scrabbling down in the pit stops.
"I know you can hear me," I say. "Do you recognise my voice?"
There's a pause.
"You're different," says a voice from beneath the rubble.
I look down, trying to see him, but I can't. He's buried under too many rocks. That's good. He's supposed to be buried. He's supposed to stay buried.
"You're one of us," he says. There's a hint of excitement in his voice. "Was it Duncan? Did he change you?"
"It doesn't matter who changed me -" I start to say.
"Is it fun?" he asks, interrupting. "Is it everything you thought it would be? To be a wolf? To be like us? To have this strength, this power?"
"It's..." I pause, not sure how to answer. "It's very different," I say. "It's not... It's not fun. That's the wrong word. It's different. And I'm new to it. I can't even do the basic things like change into a wolf. Not unless I lose control".
"That'll come with time," Matt says. His voice sounds weak and far away. "Why are you here?"
I clear my throat. "I need your help," I say. "I need -"
"You?" he says. "You need my help? Really?" There's a pause. "I'm down here, covered in rubble, struggling to get up, and you're sitting at the top, free to move around and do what you want. And you need my help? Is that right?"
"I'm sorry," I say. And the truth is, I really am sorry. Matt seemed so nice when I first met him, even if he did turn out to have a dark side. The thought of anyone being trapped under rubble like this is horrific, but I've seen what happened when he's loose. He's not in control of himself, and he kills. So no matter how pained he sounds right now, I know I can't listen to his pleas for help. In which case, I have nothing to bargain with, do I? I have nothing to offer him.
"What do you want?" he asks.
"I need to find Duncan," I say.
He laughs. Actually, it's more of a sneer.
"He's in trouble," I continue. "I don't know what happened, but he vanished. He was supposed to come with me, and then he came back to London for something and... He's in real danger. I can tell. I could sense him until... until recently, and then he just seemed to stop existing".
"He stopped existing?" Matt says. "We have a name for that. We call it death".
"He's not dead," I say.
"You don't know that," he replies.
"I do!" I say, raising my voice. "I felt he was alive. I felt it, like I could feel his soul. I sensed him".
"No doubt," Matt says. "But you don't sense him now, do you? You don't feel his soul now. The only conclusion that one can draw is that he's in fact dead. That when you stopped being able to sense him, that was the moment when he died. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop wasting your time".
"He's not dead," I say firmly.
Matt laughs. "I tell you what," he says eventually. "I can help you. I don't know where Duncan is, but I have some good guesses. Some really good guesses. Just because he might seem to be dead, doesn't mean he actually is. There are ways around it. Tricks and cheats, if you like. But..." He pauses. "What are you going to offer me in return?"
I've been dreading the moment when he'd say that. The truth is, I know I can't let him out of the pit. I know I can't. If I did, he'd be loose again and the damage he'd cause would be immeasurable. I know he sounds nice now, but he's not in control of his wolf side. The two parts of his personality have become separated. So the only thing he wants, is the only thing I can't give him. Unless...
"You know what I want," he says. "The only thing I want. I want you to get me out of here".
"I can't," I say weakly.
"You can," he replies. "You know me. I'm okay now. I had a problem before, but I'm okay now. Don't you understand? I've been alone down here, and I've solved everything. I have my wolf side under control now. I'm ready to come back out from the pit. I just need your help. Doesn't that count for something? All I'm asking for is a second chance, a little mercy".
I stare at the rubble. I can't imagine how badly injured Matt is under there, and how desperate he is to escape. If there were any way to set him free from his agony, I'd do it, but the truth is that I can't let him free. At the same time, I need his help. I need to find Duncan. And if finding Duncan requires me to lie, and requires me to deceive Matt, then I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes. Th
ere's nothing that I won't do to find Duncan. Nothing.
I take a deep breath.
"Tell me where I can find him," I say slowly, "and I'll let you free".
There's a pause. "How do I know I can trust you?" he asks.
"Because you know me," I say, fighting back tears. "Because you know that I wouldn't say I'd set you free if I wouldn't. Because you know that I'm true to my word". I take another deep breath. "And because you know that there's no way I'd lie to you. I couldn't be that cruel". Damn it, I sound so convincing.
I wait for him to respond. Sniffing back the tears, I'm determined to make sure he doesn't realise that I'm so upset. I just have to be patient and wait.
"Hallowed ground," Matt says finally.
I think about it for a moment. "What?" I ask.
"Hallowed ground," he says again. "Holy ground. Cemeteries. Graveyards". There's another pause. "When you kill a werewolf, his body can recover. Even from the most horrific injuries. But if you take the body to hallowed ground, the recovery process can't happen. If the body remains on hallowed ground for too long, the condition becomes permanent and the werewolf dies forever".
Is that it? Is it possible that this is what has happened to Duncan? "So if I can't sense him any more..." I say.
"The most likely reason, maybe the only reason, is that his body has been placed on hallowed ground. When did you stop being able to sense him".
"A few days ago," I say.
"You need to get his body away from hallowed ground," Matt says. "You don't have long left. If you get him away soon, he'll still be able to heal. But if you wait to long, if you don't find him in time, it'll be permanent. The hallowed ground will cause permanent damage. Werewolves and religion don't really mix too well".
"So he could be in any cemetery?" I ask. "Any cemetery in London?"
"I'm sorry," Matt says. "There's only so much I can do to help. You need to find a freshly dug grave that might be his, and you need to dig him up".
"But how do I find which cemetery?" I ask.
"I don't know," Matt replies. "But once I'm out of here, maybe I can help you. I can help you look, at least".
I sit and stare into space for a moment. Is this really what I have to do? I have to find where Duncan's body is buried and dig it up? "How long have I got?" I ask.
"From what you've said," he replies, "maybe twenty-four hours. Maximum".
I get to my feet. I have to find Duncan. How many cemeteries can there be in London? Okay, that's a stupid question. There are probably a lot. But Duncan is buried in one of them, and time's running out. I look down at the rubble covering the pit. "Thanks," I say, my voice weak and pathetic.
"Now it's your turn," he replies. "Help me out of here".
I stare down at the rubble. Can I really do this? Am I really this cruel? I hate lying, I never do it. But this time, maybe it's okay? No, I know that's not true. It's not okay. It's never okay. But it's necessary. It's the only way I could get any help with finding Duncan. And I can't let Matt out. I just can't. I've seen what he is. I know what he could become, and I know that he's not in control of his own wolf side. He's chaotic and unstable. Releasing him would be a danger to the world, and a danger to him. Slowly, I turn and hold my phone up, using the light from the screen to find my way.
"Where are you going?" Matt calls out.
I keep walking, fighting back the tears. I can't believe I'm being so cruel. I can't believe I'm doing this. But I have no choice. I just have to ignore him and keep going.
"Come back!" Matt shouts. "I trusted you! I believed you! I did what you asked!"
But I just keep walking. I can't look back. If I look back, I'll break. I'll go back and help Matt, which would be a huge mistake. There's a reason Duncan entombed Matt in that pit. And Matt tried to kill me once. He can't control his wolf side, and it's far too dangerous to ever let him loose. I used him, yes, but I'm just hoping that the ends justify the means.
"You can't leave me here!" Matt screams, and I hear him desperately scrabbling under the rocks, trying to force his way out. "Come back here, you fucking bitch!"
I just keep walking, but I can't hold back the tears any longer.
4
Hundreds. There are hundreds of cemeteries in London. And that's not counting ground that has been blessed for some other reason. Whoever would think, looking at London with all its smoke and grime and harshness, that so many parts of the city have been blessed? But it's true: tucked in between skyscrapers and gleaming new buildings, there are old churches and little cemeteries dotted all around. In other words, looking for a freshly dug grave in London in the next twenty-four hours is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. There's just no way I can cover so much ground. Even if I get help from Darla, which isn't certain, I'll still have to rely on luck. And luck just isn't enough. I need something more solid, something that's going to work. I need a better plan.
"Laminated badge," says Darla, suddenly appearing behind me and sitting on the other side of the table. The End of the World pub is crowded with people having after-work drinks. Darla holds out her security badge. "I'm fucking in, darling. I'm in with the Blaum people. I got a little tour of their building and everything. It's fucking high-tech. Creepy, but high-tech".
"Great," I say. "Listen, we have to go right now. Duncan's buried in a cemetery somewhere in London. I don't know where, and we have to start looking. Are you with me?"
She stares at me, her mouth hanging open. "Hang on, darling. Let me catch up with you for a minute. Duncan's buried?"
"It's the most likely scenario. If he was -"
"Hallowed ground," Darla says, a look of sudden realisation flashing across her face. "Of course. That makes sense. If he's buried on hallowed ground, you'd never be able to sense him. And his body won't be able to heal".
"Permanently," I say firmly. "If he stays buried for too long, he'll never be able to heal. Not ever. You know what that means, right?"
"Of course I do," she says. "But do you know how many cemeteries there are in London?"
"Too many," I say.
"Fucking right," she replies.
"And we only have twenty-four hours," I add. "If that. It might already be too late".
Darla sighs. "Listen," she says, "there's no way we can go to every cemetery, search it, and maybe even dig up bodies, in twenty-four hours. No way. You understand that, right?"
"We might get lucky," I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know how pathetic it sounds. Something as important as saving Duncan's life needs more than simple luck.
"Fuck luck," Darla replies. "Fuck it. People who rely on luck are doomed to lose big time. We need a better fucking plan. And we need a drink". She pulls a huge pile of notes from her pocket.
"Where the hell did those come from?" I ask, shocked. This morning she and I were dead broke, now there must be five grand in her hand.
She smiles. "Told you. Brains, ambition and great tits. Killer combo. Now what to you want to drink?"
"I want to get going," I say. "We have to find Duncan".
She sighs. "Listen, darling. It's better to wait half an hour and then head off with a killer plan, than to just go off with no plan at all and end up wasting all our time. Okay? We need to think about this. And I need a drink".
I nod. "Get me a whiskey," I say. "Please", I remember to add after a little pause.
While Darla's at the bar, I can't help remembering the way Matt screamed at me to let him out of the pit. He was so desperate, he sounded so betrayed. There has to be a way I can help him. There has to be a way I can make up for how I betrayed and tricked him. Although I'm totally caught up in trying to save Duncan, I still feel bad for what I did to Matt. There's got to be a way to help him somehow.
"So the problem's hallowed ground?" Darla asks as she comes back with our drinks. "And hallowed ground is basically ground that's been blessed by a priest".
I nod. "Because his body is buried on hallowed ground, he can't recover fr
om his injuries. And if we don't get him out of there soon, it'll be too late. So we have to -"
"Go to each and every cemetery in London within the next twenty-four hours, find him, and dig him up?"
I nod.
"Impossible," she says.
"We have to try!" I reply, almost raising my voice against the noise of the crowded pub. Why doesn't she understand how important this is?
"Of course I do!" she says, staring me down. "That's why we have to come up with a plan. We have to be smart! We have to come up with a way to buy ourselves more time, with a better way of dealing with this than just running around London like headless chickens". She pauses, and finally I can see that she's taking this seriously. "We have to have more than luck on our side. We have to come up with a better plan!"
I sigh. "Like what?"
She pauses to down her glass of whiskey. "We have to..." She stares into thin air. "We have to find another solution".
"Ladies!" shouts a voice from nearby. We both turn to find Jeremy, Eddie's 'friend' from earlier, towering over our table. "Have you managed to find out mutual friend yet?" he asks.
Darla sighs, clearly unimpressed at the interruption. "Not yet," she says, keeping things short and sweet. She's clearly hoping that Jeremy goes away, but unfortunately her subtlety is lost on him.
"Too bad," Jeremy says. He's drunk, almost swaying as he stands by us. "His loss. I was wondering if you ladies would like to join me tonight for a little party back at my place?"
"No thanks," I say.
"How many people?" Darla butts in. She looks at me. "It'll help me think!"
Jeremy sways and stares at us. "Just us three," he says.
"No-one else?" I ask.
"No," he says, sounding a little deflated. "Just us".
"That's not really a party, is it?" I say.
"Could be," he says. "If you want it to be".
"Forget it," Darla says. "We've got things to do".
"At this time of night?" Jeremy asks, incredulous at the idea.
