The recent attacks in Collinsport has left two young woman weak, disoriented, and suffering from blood loss . . . the only wounds to be found are two small puncture marks on their necks. In Arkham and Westchester . . . further away . . . two more attacks have left their victims dead . . . drained of blood. For Nicole Collins, a lapse of control has led her to a deepening introspection of the consequences of succumbing to her affliction. Alone, in the night, she finds solace among the dead.
The vault is dark, damp, and chill. Nikki lying on a cold, stone shelf of the crypt (vacant, awaiting but one more coffin to fill the above ground burial chamber of the Bradford family) finds comfort in the quiet of the death and decay around her. It had started simply enough, she thought. A happenstance actually. She had wandered close to the nightclub, perhaps pulled by the neon lights so fabulous in the night, especially with her new vision. The sound of the music escaping as the door opened and couples came out, reminding her of her past life. And she had only intended to enter for just a moment, as she had no taste for alcohol any more. But the sight of the women sitting together so close, talking, hands reaching out, touching; their bodies in movement on the dance floor. She found herself talking to a woman at the bar. She had a nice smile. She had a racing heart. Nikki soon found herself enthralled, so much so, she allowed herself to be led by the hand to the woman’s car with a promise of seeing her apartment. A caress. A kiss. And she reached over and sunk her extended fangs deep into the tender flesh of her neck — the blood a warm, lovely rush that was absolutely thrilling. The taste like an orgasm. Slowly she realized what she was doing and quickly pulled away. She felt the woman in the car. Only a night later she found herself back once more outside the club again. Found herself sinking her fangs in, even as she was thinking of the raven-haired beauty, who had smiled at her from across the busy club, as she had exited with her new intended. Now, lying there she was aware of the consequences of those events, there were law enforcement officers in Collinport, Arkham, and Westchester investigation a series of attacks. Collinsport was a whispering concave of growing suspicion and deepening paranoia, the old “History” was back. And, she had not even touched those girls, the ones in Arkham and Westchester. Her thoughts were suddenly disturbed now by the sound of footsteps somewhere out in the graveyard. Nikki sat up. Her high-heeled boots stepping with perfect precision, even for the unevenness of the broken crypt floor, she exits the burial chamber. The footsteps beyond have come to a halt. Silently, she crosses to the iron gate set in the stone wall that separates the Bradford plots from the Eagle Hill Cemetery proper. She could see the figure of a young woman standing down a few rows in front of a tombstone. She watches as the woman reaches down and picks up a small stone and places it atop the marker. Suddenly, Nikki senses another presence, very close. It is someone with her affliction. She snaps her head around and sees the other woman sitting atop one of the utility poles placed half-hazard in the graveyard. Nikki is aware that the woman senses her as well; they look at each other; and then the woman atop the utility pole leaps to the ground soundlessly. They both are watching the woman at the tombstone, two predators competing for prey? Only Nikki fears the consequence of yet another attack, and so with a loud creak of the neglected hinges, she opens the gate.
The young woman at the gravesite looks up to see her walking slowly toward her, Nikki is aware that she appears now as some predatory animal moving among the graves. Perhaps the sight alone is enough to frighten off the hapless mortal. who has come to visit a loved one much too late. And could be only moments away from joining them. Only the young woman stands her ground. Nikki raises her hand with a graceful flourish, “I did not mean to startle you — It’s just I didn’t expect to see anyone at this time of night. The young woman, apparently not at all frightened by Nikki’s slightly menacing approach, looks at her watch: 12:56, on the dot. “It is a very sentimental time. For me anyway.” She explains. Nikki still aware that the other woman, the other Vampire in the cemetery, is still watching so she takes another step closer: “Pardon my asking? A close member of the family?” She asks with a motion of her head toward the tombstone. “My grandmother. Last year.” The young mortal replies as she takes a small, stout white candle in a glass cylinder out of her pocket, and places it beside the headstone. Nikki now continues trying to place herself between the young woman and the other woman, the other Vampire, out hunting no doubt? “I am sorry to hear. Was it sudden, or something — expected?” “Unexpected . . .yeah. I guess you could say that,” she answers as she pulls out a book of matches and lights one, bending over to light the candle. Each step now taking her closer, Nikki is quite aware that she has slipped in her voice for charming as it has taken on an oddly hypnotic quality so as to sooth away any wariness. “An accident perhaps?” She asks keeping her blue eyes on the ever-watchful Vampire hiding in the shadows. “According to the police..” The young mortal woman replies and then asks to be excused as she begins to perform some ritual: “Yisgadal v’yiskadash sh’mei rabbaw, Amein.” Nikki watches as the other woman slips through the darkness of the graveyard and comes to a halt to stand beside a mausoleum. The mortal continues as she seems to be trying to remember the words: “v’yamlich malchusei,b’chayeichon, uv’yomeichon, uv’chayei d’chol beis yisroel, a’agawlaw u’vizman kawriv, v’imru: Amein.” At this point Nikki is uncertain if she is reciting a prayer for the dead or some incantation, but she is aware that the words seem to be making her feel ill-at-ease. “Are you alright?” Nikki asks more to stop her from continuing to say the words then in wanting to know how she is actually feeling, “You seemed — lost in whatever you were saying, almost, if you pardon the expression perhaps in a trance.” The young woman smiles weakly: “The Mourner’s Kaddish. My grandmother made sure to take me to temple every Saturday morning. I’m sure she would want this done right.” Nikki nods: “Yes — yes, I am sure you are right.” Beside the mausoleum the other woman inches closer along the opposite side of the structure, carefully keeping out of view. “It’s just with all these recent attacks.”
The young woman standing now before the grave of her grandmother looks back at Nikki, seemingly unafraid of this woman in black stalking quietly toward her, speaking in a voice that is far too hypnotic. She moves aside her jacket to reveal a heavy hunting knife: “Don’t sorry about me. I can take care of myself!” And, then returning her attention once more to the tombstone of her grandmother continues reciting the mourners Kaddish.
Silently Nikki stands watch, unmoving. She has placed herself so that she is between the woman reciting this Kaddish before the tombstone and the other woman who continues watching with intent from the side of the mausoleum. Of course Nikki at the moment is torn between standing as possible protection for the mortal woman, or moving quickly herself, as she can hear the nervous beating of the young woman’s heart.
Suddenly the woman says: “Amein.” She opens her eyes once again. They look a bit watery. The graveyard is once more filled with only the hush of the night. Nikki moves forward to introduce herself. The young woman now turns to her, “Nice to meet you Nikki Collins, I am Esther. Sorry about all that. So, you the watch officer? I hope I am not trespassing.”
The other vampire observing from the mausoleum thinks to herself: “Crap. One of them. One day I will remind myself why I bothered with this stupid place.”
Nikki is suddenly aware of the other vampire’s presence withdrawing from the cemetery, even as she watches as Esther moves toward her, holding out her hand to greet her. Nikki smiles: “Oh, no. I live a short distance across the cut. I come here often myself, to think. It is so quiet.” Shaking hands, Esther notices how chill Nikki’s hand is, “Oh my. You are freezing.” She says as she reaches into her jacket pocket and removes an extra pair of hand warmers, which she offers to Nikki. Nikki wryly smiling accepts them and slips them on, while explaining that she is very cold natured and can never seem to get warm. As they stand in the misty graveyard conversing, the small candle in the glass cylinder beside the tombstone flickers behind. Nikki learns that Esther’s grandmother died a year and two days ago, to be exact, and that Esther suspects her death was not from natural causes, as it had been officially ruled. “I think it was a murder. But there is really no evidence to it. My opinion does not warrant a full investigation . . . besides it was a year ago, so any clues would be stone cold by now.” Nikki explains that she too had recently lost someone close to her, someone who had been like a mother, and so, she understands the pain, and if she suspected something unusual in her death she would not rest until she discovered the truth. And so, she encourages Esther to go to the police if she strongly suspects something unnatural happened to her grandmother. “After all this is Collinwood!”
At that moment another voice calls out into the night: “Hello, anyone there?” Esther and Nikki look back toward the iron gate to see now a lovely, dark haired woman dressed in jeans and a Miskatonic sweatshirt stroll toward the gate. “I thought I heard a commotion and thought perhaps the zombies were having a ball.” The newly arrived woman says with a bright smile.
Almost simultaneously, while they are speaking, a vapor like mist enters the graveyard, although with so much mist already a swirl amongst the tombstones, it appears all but unnoticed as it seems to settle now low comfortably rolling across the earth. amid the tombstones, as it seeks to observe the women.
As if suddenly reflecting on Nikki’s name, Esther says: “A Collins? Your quite a family ’round these parts. I moved here ’bout twelve years ago from Somerset County. Most all of what grandmother had to say about the town when I first got here was about the Collins. You own nearly the whole damn town.”
“Not personally, no” Nikki responds as the newly arrived woman walks down the path having entered through the open iron gate. Nikki introduces herself again, and explains that she doesn’t live very far, “Just across the cut there in the forest, over in the old mansion. The one that call the “Old House.” “Yep. That’s the one!” Esther agrees. As the dark-haired woman in the Miskatonic sweatshirt and jeans continues walking toward them, she seems to eye the vapor-like mist suspiciously.
Unseen by the three women, the shape of a little girl suddenly materializes. The child stands by a large oak, which casts a shadow over her, which keeps her hidden in the darkness. The little girl’s gaze fixates on the woman in black . . . Nikki Collins . . and the little girl says quietly to herself: “there . . . there little Miss Moppet . . . your porridge wont be all gone.” Her eyes aglow, they seem to dim as she steps back into the recesses of the night.
Nikki’s own blue eyes turn now a shade lighter as she suddenly senses a malignant force, even while still tries to retains her smile and respond to the approaching woman: “I’m sorry did not get your name?” The woman with a smile introduces herself as Tiana Swift from the Miskatonic University, and explains that she was merely “passing by and heard sounds coming from the cemetery, and I can’t resist a good mystery.” Although distracted by the odd feeling of being watched, a sense of some other presence near-by, of the little girl she can sense but not see, she feels there is something more to Tiana Swift being in Eagle Hill Cemetery after 1 o’clock in the morning than merely passing by. Esther, apparently not wanting to be left out suddenly says, “I’m Esther Friedman,” and shakes hands with Tiana. Nikki still trying to put aside this strange and unusual feeling of foreboding tires to strike up a conversation with Miss Swift, “Ah, the Miskatonic — perhaps you know a Dr. Artemis?”
In the distance the little girl grins . . . in the darkness she was more than well aware that Nikki could sense her . . . because she wanted Nikki to sense her, in fact, she had been sent with explicit instruction to be sensed . . . while to herself the little girls whispers “That’s right Dolly. . . your tinker is noggin the Ice.”
Tiana indeed knows Doctor Artemis, and so Nikki explains that she has met him. “A very interesting gentleman,” She continues to explain that she had rather recently gone to the university library in search of a book, but, it was one that the Doctor considered restricted and would not allow her to see it. In a rather matter-of-fact voice Tiana explains that: “when the future of the entire cosmos is in peril, it does rather burden him with responsibility of making sure the books are only accessible to the most trusted and responsible people.” Intrigued, Nikki asks Miss Swift if she is a student to which Tiana rather cryptically replies: “No i’m sort of working there actually . . . erm..sort of on the board of erm, important people and stuff.”
Nikki returning to the question of Esther’s grandmother’s death asks just what happened. Esther explains that “exactly 367 days ago, she was in the finest of health that a 78 year old woman could be in, then, the next day, she was dead. Baffled, the doctors, well the best suggestion they could come up with was that she had lost the will to live, which is bullcrap.” Nikki asked what was her grandmother’s name. Esther tells her it was “Lorraine. Lorraine Friendman.” Nikki then asks Esther if she was aware that there was a detective coming up from Arkham to investigate the series of recent attacks, and perhaps she should talk to the detective, and have them take a look into the matter. Having met Sheriff Patterson, I would certainly consider it.” The suggestion is thoroughly dismissed by Esther: “From Mass? Shit . . .. What the hell is some Massachusetts dick going to care for us? And Why? And an ol’ closed case like that? Bah!”
Nikki then asks Miss Swift whether she usually haunts graveyards by night and Miss Swift continues her rather cryptic way by answering: “You never know what you might find in a cemetery.”
Which was quite right, Nikki thought, and was now very concerned. Who was this other vampire hiding in the shadows? What was that presence she felt, the oddly fearful presence of a little girl? And what was Tiana Swift of the Miskatonic University really doing at 1:00 am in the morning spying around in Eagle Hill Cemetery?
Cue Music for end of Episode