by Amy Cross
"Is everyone here?" Darla asks, her voice sounding weak and faltering. "Every priest in London must be here."
There's a murmur among the priests. "We are all here," one of them says eventually.
Darla nods, then she stands up straight, raises her shirt and once again she uses the sharp finger nails of her fleshless hand to slice her belly. Blood runs from the wound, but within half a minute the wound is healed. There's a murmur from the priests.
"Look!" Darla shouts. "I have seen unclean things!" She puts her hand to her face and with a quick, clean action she rips out both of her eyes, throwing them to the ground. The priests all gasp, staring at the eyeballs. On the stage, blood pours from Darla's eye sockets. She turns her back to the crowd for a moment, then turns back around and her eyes have grown back. A hush falls on the room. The priests are stunned. I find it hard to stifle a small smile at the theatrics of Darla's performance.
"Good," says Darla. "I have your attention. You are the holiest men in London. Combined, you have blessed half the land in this city. You have made so much hallowed ground. The Lord has noticed what you have done, and he is thankful. But the time has come for another service. Can you do the Lord's bidding once again?"
"Anything!" shouts one of the priests.
"Anything?" she shouts. "Will you do anything that the Lord commands of you?"
"Anything!" is the chorus that rings out from the priests.
Darla nods. "Anything," she repeats, then suddenly she lifts her shirt off and stands topless. She slips her jeans down, then the rest of her clothes until she is completely naked before all the priests. I've never seen her naked before, but I have to admit, she has a stunning body. "I need a man to make love to me," she says.
Silence in the room.
"I need a man's body against my body. Inside my body. I need to be filled with his love." She puts her hands on her breasts. "I need to be pleasured, and in return I need to give pleasure. I need total fulfillment of my desires. It can be just one of you, or it can be more than one of you at the same time. But the Lord demands that I am satisfied. I am yours, to do with as you please. I am woman. You are man. The Lord commands your attention to my body."
Silence in the room.
"And..." She seems to be struggling to work out what to say. "And if any one you be... inclined toward your fellow man rather than to a woman... if thou... knowest what I mean... then I command thee to make love to one another. All must have pleasure. Dark, carnal pleasure. 'Tis not a sin."
She falls completely silent. The priests just stare at her. The silence seems to last forever.
"I need a man," Darla says in a high, almost Marilyn Monroe kind of voice.
More silence.
Darla looks at me. "Brains, ambition and great tits," she says. "Okay... Now!"
I stare back at her. "What?"
"It's done!" she shouts, still naked. "Look at them! Horny as hell, full of lust. Lust's a sin. All their blessings are broken. Find Duncan!"
I look at the priests, all of whom are staring at Darla's naked body. They certainly look thoroughly sinful, which means all the blessed land across London should be becoming immediately un-blessed. But... I still can't detect any sense of Duncan anywhere. It's just the same emptiness I've felt for so many days. I try to remember what it felt like before, when I could sense him out there, but there's nothing.
"Come on!" Darla shouts at me. "There's got to be some sign of him!"
I shake my head. "Maybe I just can't sense him anymore."
"You sensed him before," she says. "You can do it again. He has to be out there somewhere. Concentrate!"
But no matter how hard I try, there's nothing. It's fine for Darla to tell me to concentrate, but if there's nothing to hear, I can't do anything. It's as if Duncan has just stayed silent. Completely, ominously silent.
"He's not there," I say. "He's really not there." I look up at Darla. "Why isn't he out there? That can only mean one thing, right?"
Darla stares back at me.
"That can only mean..." I pause. I can't say it. I can't say what I know is true.
I can see by the look in her eyes that Darla doesn't want to say it either. We must be too late to save Duncan.
Jess
The room is silent. All the priests who were staring at Darla are now staring at me. Up on the platform, Darla is quickly putting her clothes back on. I'm pretty sure it's time for us to get out of here, but all I can think about is the fact that we're too late. The reason I can't sense Duncan isn't that he's buried on hallowed ground, it's that he's dead, which means he must have been buried on hallowed ground too long ago and now his body can't recover. Which means he's gone. Lost. Dead.
"I think you'd better explain yourselves," says one of the priests, sounding shaken.
"No," shouts Darla. "I think you had better explain yourselves!." They all turn to look at her. "This is important," she says, her voice taking on a serious tone. "Is every priest here? Is there any chance that someone isn't here. Is there..." But she's clutching at straws, and she knows it. Her voice tapers off, and the look in her eyes is a clear indication that she realizes we've failed. "Sorry," she says eventually. She comes down off the platform and hurries over to me. "We've still got time," she says. "We can still find Duncan, maybe we got it wrong and -"
"It's over," I say.
"Don't say that."
"It's true." I stare at her. "Come on, do you really have another great plan? This was a stupid idea all along, he's... He must have already been buried for so long that it's too late to save him. That's the only explanation, isn't it?" I wait for her to say something, but it's like she can't even look me in the eye anymore. "Isn't it?" I shout.
She nods. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm really, really sorry."
"He's dead," I say flatly. "I was supposed to save him, and I failed. And he's dead. We might as well accept it."
Darla takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm really, really sorry."
"Excuse me," says a voice from behind Darla. We both turn to find that the priests are still watching us. "Would one of you like to tell us what has been going on?"
"No," says Darla. "Sorry. None of your business."
"I think it is our business," the priest says. "We all say with our own eyes what happened to you up there."
A lone voice shouts out from further back. "Do you still need a man?"
Darla shakes her head. "It was a trick," she says, her voice sounding deflated. "An illusion. Magic. You know, make believe. I'm sorry, we just thought it would be funny."
The priest closest to us sighs. "Then I would ask that you two leave this place immediately and give some very serious thought to the things you have done today."
Darla puts her arm around my shoulder and we head for the door. But as we get there, she suddenly stops.
"Can we just go?" I ask. I want to get out of here. I was so sure we'd be able to save Duncan, it never occurred to me that we might fail.
"In a minute," Darla says.
I look at her. "What is it now?"
"Him," she says, pointing.
I look in the direction she's indicating, and I see a priest sitting at the back of the group. At first, I don't spot anything unusual about him, but then I notice that his glasses have blacked-out lenses, and he has a white cane in his hands.
"That's sad," I say politely.
"It's not sad," Darla says. "It's a miracle. Maybe." She grabs my hand and drags me over to the blind priest. Kneeling in front of him, she looks up into his aged face. "Father, I need to ask you something."
"Go on," the blind priest says.
"Father..." Darla's voice wavers for a moment. "You didn't see what I just did on the platform, did you?"
He shakes his head. "I haven't seen anything for many years."
Darla looks up at me. "He didn't see what I was doing, so there was no way to corrupt him." She turns back to the priest. "Father, which church are you from?"
"St
. Mary's in Shoreditch," he says. "Why do you want to know?"
"Father," Darla continues, "in the last week, have you conducted any unusual funerals? Any that stood out?"
The priest sits for a moment, saying nothing. Finally, he speaks. "I have conducted only one funeral in the past week," he says. "And it was the most... unnerving experience of my life."
"In what way?" Darla asks him. "Think. This is important."
"I heard... things. Noises. As if the people standing beside the grave were... It sounds silly to say it, but it was as if they were not human."
"What else?" Darla asks, her voice filled with excitement once again.
The priest nods, as if he understands. "Thomas Lumic is a very strange man. A very strange man."
"You buried a man named Thomas Lumic?" Darla asks.
"No," the priest says. "Thomas Lumic was the man who arranged the funeral."
"So who did you bury?" Darla asks.
"I only know his first name," the priest says. "Duncan."
"Bingo!" Darla shouts, turning to me.
"We have to get to this church," I say. "It's still hallowed ground. Duncan might still be alive." I turn to the priest. "When did you bury Duncan?"
"It must be six days ago now."
"Almost a week," I say. "Darla, we have to go and dig him up right now. He won't survive much longer."
Darla puts an arm on the priest's shoulder. "Thank you, father," she says, standing up and grabbing my arm, pulling me to the door. "Don't worry," she says, "I know where we can get shovels." At the door, she stops and turns, then she bows to the assembled priests, who watch in horror. "Thank you, fathers. You've been a wonderful audience."
They stare back at us in silence.
"Tonight," Darla says to them, "you have been witnesses to proof of the divine effect of brains, ambition and great tits!"
They stare back at us in silence.
"It's been a pleasure," Darla says.
They stare back at us in silence.
"A real... real..." Her voice trails off.
They stare back at us in silence.
"Tough crowd," Darla says finally, before turning to me. "Run," she says.
So we run.
Jess
As we race to Shoreditch to find the church, Darla insists on taking a detour via the Blaum Building. Although she hasn't worked a shift there yet, she has the job and she was shown around earlier. She saw lights, spades and other equipment in one of the storage rooms, and fortunately she already has her security access card, which means we can get in and out of the building in record time.
"They're desperate for new staff," she says as she uses her card to get us through the front door. "Seriously, they'll take anyone. Completely fucking desperate. You should apply."
"Thanks," I say, trying not to feel offended, as we head into the lobby. It's almost midnight now, and there's no-one about except for a guy on the night desk who says something as we rush past him.
Darla leads me down some steps and into a basement storage room, where we quickly find some spades and lights. "Okay," she says. "We're ready. Let's go dig up that grave."
We head back out to the lobby, but when we get to the door we find that it's locked. Darla tries using her access card, but a red light flashes and a small panel displays an ACCESS DENIED message.
"Fucking thing," Darla says, trying to push the door open.
I look over at the security guard, who's sitting at the far side of the lobby. He's just staring at us. I look down at the spades and other equipment in our hands. Bang goes our attempt to look inconspicuous.
"Darla," I say, tapping her arm. "What about that guy?"
Darla looks over at him. "He looks weird," she says.
"He's probably got a key," I say.
While Darla keeps trying the door, I go over to the guard. "Excuse me," I say as we reach him. "Can you unlock the door?"
The guard, a twenty-something man with an impassive faces, stares at me. "That property isn't yours."
"Hmm?" I ask. I look at the gear we're 'borrowing' from the store room. "Oh, we'll bring this back. My friend works here. We're just... we're just making a bad impression. On purpose."
"That property isn't yours," the guard says again, impassively.
"Yeah," I say. "I know. But it's really important that we go and do a small job, and then we'll bring it right back. Please don't get weird about this."
"That property isn't yours," the guard says for a third time. "You have transgressed."
"Yeah," I say. "Yeah, we have. We've transgressed. But listen..." I lean closer to look at his name tag. "Eddie. Listen, Eddie. We really need this equipment. We really, really need it. And my friend works here. She has an access card and everything, she's totally..." I suddenly stop talking. I stare at the guard. "Eddie?" I ask quietly.
"My name is Eddie," he says, his voice sounding like a robot.
"Eddie," I say. "Huh. Do you know my friend? My friend over there?" I turn to indicate Darla, just as she tries (and fails) to take a run-up and bash the door open. She bounces off the glass and lands on the floor. Damn it, sometimes I wish I didn't know her.
"I'm the guard," Eddie says. "Your friend must stop doing that. She'll damage herself."
I shrug. "I can't really... I'm sorry, I just thought you might be..." I turn to Darla. "Hey! Come here a moment!"
She looks over at me. "What?"
"Just come over," I say.
She stomps toward me. "What's so important?" she asks.
"This guy," I say, indicating Eddie. "Is this your Eddie?"
Darla frowns, then looks at the security guard, and finally a smile erupts on her face. "Fucking hell!" she shouts. "Eddie!" She leaps behind the desk and gives Eddie a huge hug, but he just sits there, staring ahead impassively. Darla slowly realizes that his greeting for her isn't entirely enthusiastic. "What's wrong, Eddie?" she asks. "Don't you recognize me?"
"I'm a security guard," he says. "This equipment is not yours. You have transgressed."
"What are you talking about?" Darla says. "Eddie, I've been looking everywhere for you." She turns to me, smiling. "Looks like we've both found the people we were looking for, eh?"
I nod, smiling, but there's something about Eddie that doesn't seem quite right. He just seems almost like a zombie, staring at us, saying the same things over and over again. And he doesn't seem to even recognize Darla. It's as if he's never met her before, as if he has no idea who she is.
"I don't mean to be funny," I say slowly, "but are you sure this is him?"
"Of course it's him!" Darla says. "He's just..." She looks into his eyes. "He's just a bit dazed. Eddie, mate, are you okay?"
You have transgressed," he says again.
"Eddie," Darla says. "Stop fucking about. You've got to open the door. We're in a hurry, we have to dig up a body before it's too late." She smiles. "I know that sounds weird, but you know what I'm like, right? I'm always getting into things like this. I'm always..." She stares at him. "Eddie, are you okay?"
"You have transgressed," Eddie says, then he turns his head a little. His eyes widen. "Darla," he says, his voice suddenly softer and quieter. "Darla, you've got to get out of here. You've got to run. You've -" He snaps back to how he was before. "You have transgressed."
"Eddie, darling," Darla says. She puts her hands on the side of his head. "Talk to me. Tell me what's up." She moves her hands around to the back of his head, and then she stops, as if she's felt something odd. "What the fuck?" she asks, and she gets up, looking behind him. "Fuck!" she shouts, and she jumps back, away from him.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Fucking fuck," she says, eyes wide open, her face white with fear. "Eddie..."
"What?" I ask. Keeping my distance, I move around Eddie until I can see the back of his head. Suddenly I see what freaked Darla out. There are half a dozen wires and cables coming out of Eddie's skull and feeding directly into a socket in the wall behind him. It's as if his brain is plug
ged into something. "What the hell is that?" I ask.
"I don't know," Darla says. "But it's coming out." She pushes past me, reaches her hand behind Eddie and pulls out the cables.
Eddie screams, clutching his head and getting up, staggering forwards. Blood starts to pour from the back of his head. He turns to us. "Get me out of here!" he shouts. "Get here out of me! Get -" He stops talking, stares at Darla for a moment, and then he collapses.
"Fuck!" Darla shouts, kneeling to check on him. But as I look over her shoulder, I can see that Eddie is already dead.
"What happened here?" Darla asks, her voice wavering as she fights back tears. She lifts Eddie's head and rests it on her knees, stroking the side of his head. With her other hand, she gently closes his eyes.
"I'm sorry," I say. It's a weak, helpless thing to say, but it's all I can think of right now.
"I knew Eddie since we were kids," Darla says, her voice filled with tears. "He was my best human friend." She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. "I was gonna tell him some time," she says. "I was gonna tell him that I'm a werewolf. I thought maybe if he knew..." She starts to cry. I kneel next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. It's obvious she was in love with him, even if she hasn't said the words.
As I comfort Darla, I look up at the wall and I notice something odd. The ends of the wires that were in Eddie's head are also bleeding. It's as if his blood was moving in and out of his head, going into and out of the walls.
"I don't get it," Darla says, sniffing. "What the fuck are those wires? What the fuck is this place?"
I shake my head. "No idea," I say. "But I want to get out of here."
"Agreed," Darla says. She rests Eddie's head on the floor and stands up.
"We can take his body," I say, although secretly I can't imagine how that would ever work.
Fortunately, Darla shakes her head. "A body's just a body. I don't buy into all that bullshit. He's gone now. This is just a pile of flesh and bone. A machine." She takes a deep breath. "You're right, though. We do need to get out of here."
We walk across the lobby, heading toward the back area. As Darla walks, she sniffs a little but otherwise she seems to show no emotion following Eddie's death. Is this how she deals with things? I've always felt there's a hard edge to Darla, but now it seems like she's able to completely compartmentalize her emotions. Then again, I can kind of understand her approach. I've had to do the same thing in the past; it's kind of how I ended up in London in the first place.