by Amy Cross
"Sounds weird," Darla says. "Sounds really weird." She smiles. "I like weird. Sounds good."
"Maybe I should just meet you somewhere later?" I say. "I want to get started while it's still daylight."
"Sure," says Darla. "You got any money?"
"No," I say.
"Then how are you gonna get around?"
"Well..." I pause, not sure how to bring up a subject I've been meaning to mention for a while. "I was thinking you could teach me how to change into my wolf form properly. Then, I could run everywhere."
"It's not that easy," Darla says as we reach a street corner. We stop as she looks in each direction. "Fuck," she says.
"What?"
"I don't know where to fucking go," she says. "Sorry, darling, I just assumed Eddie would be here."
"He was a good friend?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says. "The best." There's a hint of sadness in her eyes, a haunted look that immediately tells me that Eddie means a lot to her. "I need to find him," she says. "I guess you could say Eddie's my Duncan." She looks at me and smiles, but there are tears in her eyes.
I take a deep breath. "Look," I say. "I've got a plan. I'll come with you to this Blaum place and we can look for your friend. And then, later, you can help me look for Duncan. Okay?"
"Sure," Darla says. "That'd be good. But I thought you wanted to find Duncan straight away?"
"I do," I say. "But I figure it'll be quicker to wait for you to help me, than if I just blunder about by myself. So let's just get on with things, okay? Maybe we can both find the people we're looking for."
Jess
The Blaum Building is certainly imposing. Standing down by the river, it's one of the largest buildings in London and it towers above everything else in the vicinity. It doesn't help that the entire building is black, with even the windows being tinted so that they're dark. The building seems to absorb light from its surroundings, but it has a kind of macabre, unreal beauty that means it's hard to avoid staring at it. Frankly, I can't imagine why anyone would ever want to build something like this.
"Hideous," says Darla, standing next to me. She looks back down at the little guidebook we bought earlier from a street vendor. "It says here it was completed six months ago, and it's home to the Darkstone Corporation, whatever that is. And get this. It's named after the architect, Franklin Blaum, who vanished just as the building was nearing completion." She looks at me. "Seems people have been vanishing in this building for a while."
I nod, looking up at the huge edifice. "It's almost like it's alive," I say. "It looks so... brooding."
"It looks like cancer," Darla says. "If cancer was a building, this is the building it'd be. Seriously, who gave planning permission for such a fucking ugly pile of crap?" She smiles. "Come on," she says, and we head toward the entrance.
"What's the plan?" I ask.
"We need money. Let's apply for a job."
"Here?"
"Why not?" she says as we reach the revolving door. "Sounds like they always need people, and the pay's gotta be pretty good."
"You're forgetting something," I say. "People keep disappearing."
"And we want to find out why," she replies. "So don't you think the best way to do that is to get in on the action from the ground floor?"
"I suppose so," I say, following Darla inside. To be honest, I'm not sure whether this is a colossal waste of time. After all, her friend Eddie probably just got a better job offer and went somewhere else. If he's anything like Darla, then he's probably not very reliable.
"Look at this fucking place," says Darla as we enter the foyer. Like the outside, everything in here is black, most of it made of marble. It's high-ceilinged and pretty spacious, but it's hard not to feel a little intimidated by the whole set-up. Seriously, why would you design a building like this unless you really, really wanted to scare people? It's like how in medieval times kings would build large, gothic castles to scare away their enemies.
Over at the far end of the room, a security guard is sitting against a wall. He doesn't even look up at us, so we loiter for a moment.
"Isn't this place great?" Darla whispers to me. "The guy who created it was a genius. Franklin Blaum. But he was also nuts. Totally fucking nuts." She takes a deep breath. "I like people who are crazy."
"Can we get out of here?" I ask.
While Darla talks to a woman on the front desk, I wander over to the other side of the foyer. There's a large framed photo of an old man who I assume is the missing Franklin Blaum, the man who designed this place. He has a dark, ominous stare, and his smile is totally unconvincing. As I stare at the picture, I become aware of a noise somewhere nearby, a kind of steady, rhythmic double-beat. I step to one side, trying to find the source of the noise, and then I realize that it's coming from the wall. I put my ear against the marble and hear a kind of thumping sound from inside the walls. It sounds almost as if she kind of machine is whirring in there, and somehow I don't think it's got anything to do with the air conditioning unit, which I can see is on another network altogether. I lean closer to the wall.
"What the fuck are you doing, darling?" Darla asks, having walked up behind me.
"Listening," I say.
She puts her ear to the wall. "Sounds like a heartbeat," she says, before grabbing my shoulder, turning me to face her and handing me an application form. "You need a pen?" she asks. "They're fucking desperate for new staff, darling. They've been spitting 'em up and chewing 'em out at crazy speed. Even the receptionists say they don't like it here."
"I can understand that," I say, looking at the form. "This looks complicated."
"I guess so," Darla says as she starts filling her form in. "But I need to work here if I'm going to find out what happened to Eddie."
"Are you sure he's not -" I start to say, and then I think better of it.
"Sure he's not what?" Darla replies, looking slightly angry. "Dead? Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's not dead. What about you? You reckon this Duncan guy is still alive? Really?" She seems annoyed. Obviously this Eddie guy means a lot to her.
"He is," I say, nodding. "I can sense it." But the truth is, my sense of Duncan's closeness has been gone for a while now, and I'm really not sure whether he's anywhere nearby. I could sense his life force, and then suddenly it was gone. The silence is unnerving. His voice in my head just seems to have stopped.
"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 o
ne person alive who I think might know where Duncan is. But it's not someone I ever thought I'd have to see again...
Jess
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 meters 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 recognize 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. There'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 realize 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 anymore..." 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 too 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.
