The Old House. Nichole Collins has returned from Providence, Rhode Island . . . from Innsmouth, Massachusetts . . . and from a small island in the midst of the dark and mysterious Miskatonic River in legend haunted Arkham. Having stopped the nefarious plans of Narcissa Snow’s acquisition of the Shinning Trapezohedron, she now awaits word that the grand plan prepared by an old villain of her father, the Count Andreas Petofi, is about to advance into it’s final stages. A plan that she must find a way to thwart – and yet, save herself from fulfilling a bargain she was unaware had been made with the heart and soul of the Outer Gods. Only – the visit she receives tonight may very well complicate the sinister task before her.

All this fascination, endless talk about Elder Gods, or things that wanted to be Gods, or were considered Gods by hapless men who didn’t know any better, didn’t know these things, these beings, were nothing more than monsters, had all but driven Rhyaad into an anxious despair. For all the centuries of his undead wandering he had always been guided, for the most part, by a sense of hope – a belief that the world would someday grow to recognize it’s unselfish potential. But here in this tiny village on the rocky coast of Maine he had to confront a perspective so totally alien to him – one that fostered a malevolent belief that this world, that man, and every other living creature upon it, was insignificant . . . a mere mote in a universe’s eye to someday be plucked out. This concept was totally unacceptable to him. There had to be more – something beyond this horrid sense of an inevitable futility. He could not –would not – accept this nihilism. And so, searching for some flaw in this reasoning, he has taken to reading some of the books that Nikki had read – even though he was uncertain just how much they had influenced her . . . a suspicion that had been growing . . . that for all her professed innocence there was something silently malignant within her soul . . .

And no, he did not believe, as she, that she no longer had a soul – nor that the cause of her vampirism, his vampirism, was some symbiotic alien parasite called down from the stars originally to serve these monsters that would be Gods. It was all a lie – a part of the corruption dripping from every word. And so he wanders out now and strides across the balcony as he continues to study the old tome looking for some contradiction in her growing universal view. It was the same nihilistic delusion he had seen in Poe.

The barren trees created a stark winter landscape. He could hear the branches creak in the wind. It was good to have Gregory – the Marshal – to talk too as he did not believe in any of this madness.

Behind the old mansion, Esther Friedman was enjoying the unseasonably mild 50-degree night as she re-arranged the skins in the large outdoor freezer. She steps back, rubbing dirt from her hands she looked over the array – well, no more hunting now until next winter.

Inside the old house, Nicole Collins sits with Samantha Brook on the sofa. Samantha is curled up, silently watching her read as Nikki closes the old volume and turns to look at her, “I am sorry Samantha. I have not been very good company.”

Samantha smiles to her softly, “Just being with you is wonderful.”

Outside the old mansion, the sound of a large automobile coming up the winding drive can be heard.

Rhyaad looks down from his balcony vantage point to see the headlights sweep across the dark lawn. A car is approaching. He watches the bob of the headlights from the uneven road. He closes the tome. A Cadillac Seville appears and continues its ascent along the drive to the front of the house.

He turns and enters through the balcony door, closing it behind him.

Headlights glare across the front windows.

Nikki smiles and touches Samantha’s cheek, as she turns now at the sound of a car and the glare of the headlights. “I wonder who that could be?”

The headlights shut off, and there is the sound of a car door closing.

Esther continuing her inventory, six Buck, seven Doe, hears the car now. She turns to look at the Old House. “Hmm?”

There is a knock on the front door of the Old House.

Nikki opens the door to see the back of a tall, slender man in a brown Brooks Brothers suit standing at the front door – he turns as it opens as if he had been idly inspecting the grounds.

Samantha sitting on the sofa leans over to look at the door.

Rhyaad descends the curve staircase, wondering who was at the door.

“Miss Collins, Miss Nichole Collins?” The man asks, slipping a hand into his trouser pocket, while the fingers of his free hand absently touch at the button of his suit jacket.

“Yes.”

Rhyaad watches, not recognizing the man in the brown suit.

“Hello, my name is Hanley. Evan Hanley. I represent the Collins Family as their legal representative, and as such, Mr. Collins has asked me to stop by and speak with you.”

“Who’s suing whom?” Samantha demands as she rises from the sofa and steps over to the door.

Nikki looks at the man a bit perplexed, “Legal representative? I understood from my solicitor that the litigation over the property between the Collins family and I was settled ”

“Oh—I am sorry, Miss Collins” Evan Hanley says as he reaches up to pull upon the lobe of his left ear, “If I have given you the mistaken impression that that my visit was in any way regarding those proceedings. You are quite correct in that the prior disputes over certain property rights have long since been settled . . . . The matter that I am here to discuss pertains to events that took place on an island, in Essex County, in Arkham, Massachusetts to be exact. ”

Samantha turns away and walks back into the foyer, her eyes cutting up to Rhyaad on the stairs, “F**k,” she mutters.

Rhyaad turns suddenly to see Esther now entering through the back door, wiping her hands on an old bloodstained apron, “Who is it?” She asks. “Whatever it is, tell them we’ve already got one.”

“Well, Mr. Hanley, why don’t you come in?” Nikki says and motions for the man to enter.

“Thank you.” He steps inside and closes the door behind him. He turns an observant eye upon Rhyaad standing at the foot of the stairs as he seems to be in some rather hushed conversation with a tall woman wearing an eye-patch. Hanley then takes notice of another woman – apparently just entering now from the back of the mansion.

With a sideways glance to Samantha, Rhyaad steps away from the stairs and back toward Esther, “It’s some lawyer hired by the Collins.” He tells her in a low tone, “By David Collins, I would presume?” He turns away from the foyer and enters the kitchen to warm up a tankard of blood, pours it into a glass, and then makes his way back toward the parlor.

“Will you have a seat, Mr. Hanley?” Nikki says, “Would you care for a drink?”

“Oh, well, if you have a brandy.” Hanley smiles pleasantly.

“I’ll get it “ Samantha quickly offers and hurries over to the cocktail table. She suddenly gives Rhyaad a look, taking note of the tankard of blood. She gives him a rather stern look and shakes her head. God! Vampires!

She reaches over and takes it from him as he passes and places it on the cocktail table, “What are you thinking?” She whispers.

“What are you thinking?” He asks.

‘Well, it’s not good.” She whispers. “He’s here about Arkham.”

“I thought the Collins Family was represented by Garner & Garner?” Nikki says as she returns to her seat on the sofa, directly across now from the chair Hanley has chosen. “A firm, I think located in Bangor, if I remember correctly.”

Esther approaches the parlor and watches as Rhyaad casually strolls into the room and takes a seat in what is customarily her chair. She steps over and stands behind it with her arms folded.

Hanley takes the drink, “Thank you, Miss . . . “

“Brook, Samantha Brook.” Samantha informs him.

He nods and then looks over at Nikki, “Yes, you are correct, in most respects, Garner & Garner does represent the Collins family’s legal interests. But—in certain, shall we say special cases, David retains me.”

Samantha settles back now to where she was sitting – well aware that all of this has to be that Officer Mill’s doing!

“Special Cases? Lawyers? What’s all this about?” Esther asks stepping through the foyer.

Samantha eyes Esther and her apron, “Shouldn’t your head be more pyramid shaped?”

Rhyaad turns in his chair and now notices Esther behind him, “You smell like animals,” he says softly to her, doing his best to ignore her desire for herchair.

“And you smell like embalming fluid.” She tells him, “ Now, get out of my chair.”

“Those of a criminal nature.” Evan Hanley says watching with interest the strange bickering between Rhyaad, Esther and Samantha as he takes a sip of his brandy.

“Please.” Esther’s emphasizes.

“A-and what kind of a criminal nature?” Samantha asks.

“Criminal?” Nikki raises a brow.

Esther points to her bloodstained apron, “This is all animal blood, I swear.”

“What’s got you all riled up, Esther?” Rhyaad asks. “And I do not smell like embalming fluid.” He stands up and gives her a look. “You and your petty desires.” He shakes his head, aware that she wants her chair and so he moves over to the end of the sofa with a heavy sigh.

He then looks over at Hanley, “Esther you see, is a hunter and a rather good one. Hence the animal blood she reeks of.”

Samantha walks over and sits beside Nikki, she tries to clandestinely wrap her hand around Nikki’s and squeezes it tightly.

Now that Rhyaad has vacated her chair, Esther takes a seat, “Thank you.”

Evan Hanley looks over at Nikki, “Miss Collins, as I understand it from my conversation with Mr. Collins, your lawyer, is deceased . . . and so, he asked me . . . well, to be candid, he retained me to handle certain matters on your behalf – should they arise.”

Esther looks over at Nikki, her face unable to mask her concern, “What’s this all about Nik?”

Nikki looks at Esther and gives her a reassuring smile, “I am not yet certain Esther. And, yes, Mr. Hanley, you are correct. Gretchen was murdered not too long ago— and I then, in the interim Gwendolyn Harker, of Harker & Hawkins, took over as my solicitor.”

“I think I know.” Samantha whispers to Nikki.

“And most unfortunately Gwen Harker is no longer with us either.” Rhyaad sighs.

Hanley looks up from his drink, “Odd, there seems to be a rather high mortality rate among those who represent you.”

“Well—” Nikki runs her fingers back through her hair, “I am sorry, Mr. Hanley, could you please tell me what this is all about.”

“It wasn’t her fault, sir. “ Rhyaad tells him, ”Ye need not worry.”

Hanley puts his drink on the coffee table, “Well, first of all, Miss Collins, there is a matter of a small formality. Do you accept me as your legal council?”

Nikki looks at him a bit uncertain as this is all a bit sudden, “I am not sure precisely . . ..”

“As, I said, Miss Collins, Mr. Collins,” He smiles reassuringly, “David—he feels it is in your best interests that you retain legal representation at the moment. You do trust David? Don’t you?”

“Yes,”

Samantha looks at Hanley and then over to Nikki, “Well, I don’t trust him,” she all but hisses as she indicates Hanley.

Nikki’s eyes narrow, “Very well, Mr. Hanley. If David feels the need to send you out here in the middle of the night.”

“Then you accept me as your legal representative?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, that takes care of the formaility, now . . .” He sits forward, “Narcissa Snow. What precisely do you know about her death?”

Samantha freezes.

“Was there not a report of an accidental death?”

Esther looks over to Nikki – suddenly feeling very threatened.

Hanley smiles, “A very good answer, Miss Collins, but it does not answer my question.”

“Narcissa Snow was a serial killer.”

Samantha sinks lower into the couch trying not to be observed.

“Yet another excellent deflection, Miss Collins, but I assure you – I am not the one you need to deflect. I am the one who needs to know the truth if I am to represent you, now, once again, what do you know about the death of Narcissa Snow?”

“I know that she is suspected of killing at least 11 innocent women – to fulfill some bizarre ritual.”

“Yes she did,” He agrees, and his keen eyes suddenly begin to look about the room, “Very well Miss Collins, we need to talk. So—is there somewhere we can talk more privately for a moment.”

Nikki’s brilliant blue eyes turn a darker shade of azure, “Do you think that necessary?”

“Yes, Miss Collins, I do.” He tells her as he continues to watch her with the emotionless scrutiny of his very calm eyes.

Nikki arose from the sofa, letting her hand slip away from Samantha’s as she leisurely moves from the sofa and crosses the foyer, heading toward the dining room. Evan Hanley, arising from his chair, smiles at the others and follows. “I can understand your reluctance to speak in front of the others – but I assure you we do need to talk.”

“Very well.” Nikki tells him, “What precisely do we need to talk about?”

“Naricssa Snow.” He says, rather casually slipping a hand into his trouser pocket, “Did you kill her?” He asks in an even, non-threatening tone.

“Has someone accused me of killing her?”

“Cool and coy, two qualities I normally like to find in a client.” He tells her and once again pulls at his ear lobe as his very patient eyes continue to watch her intently, “But I do need to I warn you. There is an officer at the Collinsport PD, an Officer Mills, who has been making rather less than discrete inquires of the Arkham Police Department concerning the death of Miss Snow. You see, Miss Collins,“ He slowly clasps his hand together, “She strongly suspects that you murdered her.”

Samantha looks at Rhyaad, “I do not like this at all – you can hear. I know you can. What are they saying?”

Rhyaad looks at her, “He wants to know if she kill Narcissa Snow.”

“What?” Esther says and turns to look across the foyer at them, “He thinks Nik killed her?”

“It was an accidental death.” Samantha suddenly says, “I have already the told the pig b***h that!”

Rhyaad continues to listen, well aware that Nikki in fact killed Narcissa and wondering now in just what direction this was all going to take. No wonder David Collins had retained his Hanley – he must have gotten a heads up from St. Clair . . .

“Her death was reported as an accident, is there any evidence to the contrary?” Nikki asks.

He smiles, “Yes, you are quite correct, the official report – which was made here in Collinsport – was one of an accidental death.” He half turns to look over at Samantha Brook, “Of course, it does seem odd that the report was made here . . . in Collinsport, rather than in Arkham. A report made coincidentally by Miss Brook. Whom, I must tell you, Officer Mills also strongly suspects of some involvement in the death of Miss Snow.”

Samantha looking over at them reaches out and grabs the book Nikki was holding earlier and feigns reading it—albeit upside down.

Nikki’s blue eyes grow darker, “And if there is any evidence to contrary, Mr. Hanley, I would be very interested in knowing precisely what they have deduced, from the body, as to the cause of death?”

His patient eyes now reveal a slight twinkle, “Yes — there is that point in our favor – as you well know, the Arkham Police Department has yet to find Miss Snow’s body. But they are still looking. What they did find was the body of a young college student, a Maria Sutton, from the Miskatonic University. She was just 19. Her throat had been cut in what looks like some ritual proceeding. Did you know Miss Sutton?

“No.”

“You never meet her?”

“No.”

‘Not at all?”

“No.”

“Before that night on the island?”

“I did not have the opportunity to meet her before Narcissa slit her throat, no.”

He cocks his head now ever so slightly, “So, you were on that island.”

Nikki runs her fingers back through her hair, “I never said I wasn’t. I tried to save the poor girl, but – I . . . I was too late.”

“To stop Narcissa Snow from murdering her?”

“Yes.”

Esther bites at her fingernail, longing to hear what they were saying, “Just answer his question Nik. Tell him you didn’t do it.”

“But, you did try and stop it?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Once again Miss Collins, I need to know. Did you kill Narcissa Snow?” He asks patiently.

She looks at him – trying to read him, but finding for some reason she could not get a clear thought, “We struggled. She had a large carving knife that she had used on all of her previous victims. In the struggled—I stabbed her, but – she then disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” He looks at her rather oddly.

“One minute she was there – the next—“ She does not tell him about Keziah Mason – or how she made the body disappear.

“Then she’s not really dead?”

“I don’t know.” Nikki tells him,

“Well you see, Miss Collis, our difficulty arises from your questioning of Natasha Snow, the alleged victim’s sister. It would appear that at that time you questioned her you told Natasha Snow . . . ” he removes a leather note pad from his inside jacket pocket.”

Esther now looks at over at Samantha and is suddenly very worried as Sam does not wear at all guilt well. She takes out her pack of cigarettes and lights one. Nik would not just murder someone in cold blood—no, not her Nikki. Brook? Maybe. Rhyaad, certainly – he’s been itching to kill someone for days . . . him and that crazy gypsy. But Nik – only Nikki has not told her anything about the trip to Providence, or Innsmouth. Was she hiding something?

“From a transcript of that conversation Miss Collins it reads . . . as follows: Natasha Snow, question, did you kill them? Nichole Collins, answer, Narcissa, yes. Elijah, no.”

Nikki tosses her head to one side, “Where did you get that?”

Rhyaad raises his eyebrow. “Just how would they have a record of that conversation at the Police Station.”

“Conversation?” Esther asks, “What conversation?”

“Nikki’s when she was questioning Lillian Snow.” He tells her.

“What of it?” Smoke escaping around each word.

“They have Nikki’s admission that she killed Narcissa.” He said distractedly as he continued to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Esther exhales a long plume of smoke as she stares at incredulously now at Nik, “You didn’t—“ she mouths to her.

Nikki looks back across the foyer at her but does not shake her head.

“This transcript – where did it come from?”

He closed the notebook, “At the moment, the transcript is shall we say suppressed, but Mills knows the tapes exists and she is trying to get Arkham PD to force their release—“

“Mills!” Rhyaad nearly spits out the name.

Samantha frowns, “Maybe I’ll grind Mills through a flour mill,” she growls.

Esther stares in disbelief, her cigarette hanging out of her mouth—she had expected to see Nikki shake her head.

‘Where did they get a recoding—a transcript?” Rhyaad snarls.

“CCTV” Samantha mutters, “It’s everywhere.”

“I don’t like surprises Miss Collins. Do you know precisely what happened to Narcissa’s body?”

“No.” Nikki lies.

Samantha looks over at Rhyaad, “I might be able to get a hold of the transcripts. Or find out who has them—“

“Oh that is interesting . . . and how may you be able to do that?” He asks turning to look at her.

“I have a couple contacts at the UN.”

“Just what is your connection to the UN?” He looks at her sternly as she once again alludes to contacts she should not have.

“So, this apparent admission regarding Natasha Snow—” Evan Hanley asks once again rubbing at the lobe of his ear, “How did that come about?”

“I was attempting to gather certain information from Miss Snow—and so, I gave her a mistaken impression.”

“An interrogation technique?”

“Yes.”

“I am concerned about this transcript.”

“As you should be.’ He tell her and then gives her a reassuring smile, “I am trying to verify that it is being destroyed.”

“Destroyed? No wonder David replies on you.”

He smiles, “No, David is taking care of that.”

Evan Hanley looks at Nikki for a long moment, starts to turn and then looks back at her, “You are absolutely certain there isn’t anything else I need to know? Nothing that can surprise us?”

“I told you want happened Mr. Hanley. I do not have anything further to add, really that is what happened.”

He removes a card from his jacket pocket and passes it over to Nikki.

Nikki takes it.

“If anything should become of this, you have my number. Do not under any circumstances talk to the police without my presence. You call me immediately – do you understand?”

Nikki fingers the business card, “Yes.”

“Not even with St. Clair. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Hanley.” Nikki tells him, “But to be perfectly honest with you, I am far more concerned that this whole matter will suddenly become rather moot.”

“You think she’s still alive?” Hanley surmises.

“There is a very good possibility.”

“Ahhh—well, that is good for us, not so good for the next person she kills.” Hanley smiles and reaches out to touch Nikki’s shoulder, “I would not worry too much about this at the moment, but I do want you to remember what I told you. Do not talk to the police and especially not to this Officer Mills, or St. Clair for that matter – not without me being present.”

“I understand.”

Hanley smiles, “Good.’ He touches her elbow, “Everything will be fine, I will see myself out.” He starts to leave and then stops, clasping his hands together before him, “Oh, and one last thing – you may want to keep a shorter rein on the other members of your agency. Miss Brooks is perhaps not our best witness.”

He nods to the others watching and marches toward the door.

“Nikki, are you alright?” Samantha asks, as Hanley closes the front door behind him.

Hanley walks across the drive to his car as he takes a long look around the grounds. He takes note of two bats flying about the second floor balcony, as he gets into his car; and then drives away.

Esther suddenly gets up “Excuse me please. I need some fresh air, ”and she walks to the back door,

Nikki looks at Samantha and then turns to watch Esther walking out the back door– she hurries after her and out onto the large back porch.

Esther is lighting a cigarette, “A-are we going to have to go to jail? Nik!? Wha-what the f**k did you do?”

“I fought with Narcussa Snow on that island in the middle of the Miskatonic. The witch Mason directed her to kill me as part of the ritual—we struggled, she was stabbed. I thought she was dead, but . . . I am not so sure at the moment.” Nikki tells her.

“I mean, the Snipers, well that was self defense . . . but this?” Esther turns to look out across the darken lawn.

Nikki looks at Esther’s back that she has turned to her, “This was self-defense Esther . . . she was going to kill me.”

‘That’s apparently not what you told that other Snow,” Esther says as she looks at her bloody apron.

“You mean Lillian?”

“Rhyaad’s ears.” She waves a hand as to explain how she knows.

“Esther I swear to you I did what I did purely in self-defense. The woman was insane.” Nikki tells her and takes a couple of steps toward her, “As for Lillian – I told her that in an attempt to get her to tell me about the necromancers – it was all intended to get her to tell me what she knew –“

Esther tosses her cigarette out into the back yard, and turns to look at Nikki, “Well . . . at least it was self defense . . . But please. Try not to do it again?”

“But I swear to you Esther, she would have severed my head . . . that was her intent . . .”

“Are you sure? The knife . . . was it silver?” Rhyaad asks stepping out the back door.

Esther looks at Rhyaad and then back to Nikki, “Ok . . .ok . . . just—please try not to kill anyone? Can I ask that of you?”

“Yes, Esther – you know me – I hope you know me . . . I would only do something like that to protect one of you or in self-defense.”

Esther sighs, “Nikki I have to say, it worries me what you may have planned for the necromancers.” She looks at her with deep concern, “I’m going to my room—now. It’s getting late. Good night.”

“Esther?” Nikki stands watching her leave.

Esther slowly enters the Old House and makes her way up the stairs while untying her apron.

“Goodnight Esther,” Rhyaad tells her as he watches her ascend the stairs toward her room. He decided to refrain from explaining her that killing was sometimes necessary. They were going to have to kill these necromancers – she was right about that. But he knew it was best not to tell her. He knew she would not agree.

Nikki stands in silence, staring off into the darkness of the lawns –

“Nikki.”

“I am sorry Rhy, I need to be alone.” She tells him and folds her arms across her chest as she takes a few steps into the darkness, remembering now what she had been told at the Shunned House on Benefit Street.

“It can not be by your hand that Petofi dies!”

Cue Music End of Episode