Time Lapse

Nicole Collins, Esther Friedman, Samantha Brook, and Rhyaad de ‘Annar, during a visit to the West Wing of the Great House of Collinwood have found themselves unexpectedly transported, via an grotesque bookcase, into a rift in time. How the rift was opened is of little import at the moment as they find themselves hurled through time and space – toward a destination, which will return one of them to a day of untold horror. A tragedy they will be forced to relive – and yet, remain helpless to prevent . .

A small pile of sand grows a bit larger as the grains fall.

Sands falling from one glass funnel into an inverted one.

An hourglass?

Just how much time is allowed in these falling grains of sand?

For here there is nothingness.

A vague sense of self, of consciousness lost.

A mere recollection of time a space.

Nikki hears far away asymmetrical piping – flutes. And then a voice – one she has heard before but still as yet cannot recognize:

Through sight and sound and faceless terror;
Through endless corridors by trial and error;
Ahead a blazing light doth burn—

Then the voice becomes that of a woman repeating the same word, imploringly, on the edge of hystria: “No. . . no no no no no!”

The wind is swaying the tops of the tall trees, as the cedars and Douglas-firs seem to bow.

In the distance mountains embrace the horizon.

Nikki, Esther and Samantha suddenly appear now amongst the stand of tall, swaying cedars and Douglas-firs that compose the outer edge of a forest encroaching the farmland. There is a wooden fence protecting a small herd of Holstein cattle. A two-story farmhouse and a truck, which had seen better days. A sympathy from the green country . . . a mild, mild wind – but not a mild, mild day. Overcast. Grey clouds thick and hanging low, moving slowly.

Magic or Science – Nikki knows not.

She is only aware that they are no longer in the West Wing of the great house of Collinwood.

And Rhyaad is strangely missing.

She turns to see Esther staring straight ahead, gripping what looks to be a large egg timer.

“I swear if you leave me in London again.” Samantha grumbles.

“Where is Rhy?” Nikki asks as she looks around, but he is nowhere to be seen. “What happened?”

Samantha Brook, placing hands upon her chest as if to feel to see if her heart is still beating, replies testily, “Prolly found some dainty teashop.”

“Are the two of you al—“ Only Nikki does not finish the sentence as she looks to see the horror on Esther face and directs her attention now to what Esther is watching unfold before them.

A woman is dropping to her knees on the verdant grass.

Two men having appeared from another edge of the forest: one bald and wearing an ill-fitting leisure suit, the other has short black hair, and is wearing a baggy plaid shirt, open vest and jeans. They both are speaking with thick Polish accents: Nikki hearing detects that they call each other Stanislaw and Casmir.

Stanislaw has grabbed a little girl on the backward arch of her swing as she swings on the swing-set. He holds her suspended – her feet dangling.

Imploringly, the woman says, “No . . . no no no no no.” Which all seems very strange to Nikki as she thought she had just heard the woman say this – as if she were now having some auditory déjà vu.

“No need to get excited. After all, it’s only teeth.” One of the men says with a revolting smile.

“I’m fine . . . “ Samantha replies, “ Although, Esther’s seems a bit. . .” She now becomes aware of what Nikki and Esther are transfixed upon as they watch the men—the woman on her knees.

“Let go of her!” The woman says—as if a film had jumped and she is no longer on her knees but standing now as she steps away from the man beside her, holding his shot-gun, as she starts to approach the two men, “Who are you?”

Nikki frowns growing more conscious of her surroundings – uncertain of her surroundings. How did they get here? Where is here? And why is it that for a moment it all seems as if time has jumped – become disjointed, out of sequence – as one moment the woman was kneeling and now she is standing.

The one called Casmir, initially ignoring the woman, looks at the dark haired man, “It’s called a child Stanislaw. Surly you’ve seen them before.” He then turns very slowly to face the woman, “I’m sorry my dear. My Associate can be a bit dim witted at times.”

“Where are we?” Nikki asks Esther, “Who are these people?”

She starts to step forward but Samantha grabs Nikki and tries to hold her back.

“You get away from my daughter!” The woman storms up to the men.

“Miss Nikki . . ..” Samantha says softly.

Nikki turns to look at Sam, “Yes?”

The man known as Casmir grabs the woman woman’s head and holds her at arm’s length, like a child holding back a toddler, “Now, now Mrs. Friedman, that’s no way to behave with your betters.”

Samantha points to the little girl. “Look at her face!”

Only Nikki, who now suddenly recognizes that the little girl is Esther, knows where they are and who the woman is – her acute hearing having heard the man say her name . . . and the man, the man is not a man – as Nikki is now more than aware of their kinship. He is a Vampire!

Nikki watches as the young Esther bites the hand of Stanislaw, who holds her back in the swing – suspended in the backward arc of her movement – stopping her from going forward.

Stanislaw looks down at her hardly reacting, “You see that? She’s trying to imitate us!”

Casmir smiles, “They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.”

“Oh, my God, it’s . . . Esther!” Nikki says astounded.

Stanislaw smiles a wicked, vulpine smile, “Well then, I am flattered little one.”

Mr. Friedman, Esther’s father, holds his shotgun out, aimed at Casimir’s head. “You let go of my family. Now.”

Nikki looks now at Sam incredulously, “We’ve . . . some how—some how gone back in time.”

Samantha Brook just looks back at her knowing that is impossible and yet, she looks from the Adult Esther there before her and then across the lawn to the younger one sitting in the swing that is being held by one of the two men who seem to be confronting the family – especially since the father is holding a shot-gun on them. The Father? Yes—this has to be Esther’s parents. How—how is this at all possible?

Or is it? Is this yet another of her hallucinations?

God—this one is so real!

If only she could hear what they are saying—and why shouldn’t she if this was one of her hallucinations?

“I’m so sorry Mr. Friedman,” Casmir says, “You will have to speak louder! It’s the wind see!”

“The wind. Yes.” Stanislaw replies.

“Miss Nikki . . .” Samantha urgently whispers, “Grab Esther! The big one.”

Mr. Friedman, gun still leveled at the men, continues to approach the swing set and the two intruders, “I know perfectly well what you are, and I know you could hear me over a warzone. So, let go of my family!”

Nikki turns and grabs Esther, who standing at first numb, begins to move.

Stanislaw looks at his associate, “Casmir, I think we had better let go of his family.”

“True. After all, we are on his property, Stanislaw,” The other replies.

Nikki holds her back and puts a hand gently to her mouth, “I am so sorry Esther—but—but we . . . we cannot interfere.”

Stanislaw cocks an eyebrow, “Of course, we would hate to be those kinds of guests.”

“It’s only common courtesy.” Casmir replies.

“Exactly.” Stanislaw nods.

Nikki holding the Adult Esther finds that she appears to be in shock—unable to take her eyes off her mother and father.

Casimir lets go of his respective hostage. Little Esther slipping out of the swing quickly to land on the grass and turns to suddenly run back and kick Stanislaw in the shins.

“Aww . . . the little dziecko has chutzpa! Just like her Grandfather.” He says as he looks down at the little girl kicking him.

Little Esther turns and races over to her mother who grabs her for a moment and tells her, “Run Esther, hide in the cupboard,” she whispers.

Nikki hears and knows the two vampires have heard it also.

The young Esther runs toward the farmhouse, looking back to see her mother moving hurriedly to stand beside her father.

Nikki holds Esther tightly, “I am so sorry Esther, so sorry.” She tries to comfort her.

Little Esther reaches the door. She pauses for a moment, and then runs in, closing the door behind her.

Nikki holding Esther as comforting as she can has to fight her own desire now to race across the field and snap the vampires brutal necks.

The one known as Stanislaw suddenly looks around – and Nikki uncertain as to whether they are really there or not (as she would have suspected they would have heard them speaking as she can hear them – unless it is some trick of the magic that has transported them to this time and place) now has to quickly cloud her thoughts so he cannot detect her.

“Father used to tell stories of the old country.” Mr. Friedman says, his shotgun still pointing at the two vampires standing beside the quivering swing. “They included you. Now, what do you want?”

Casimir, moving away from the swing begins to pace. “Well, I for one am glad that he was able to keep the fear alive. Saves us a lot of trouble.”

“Very messy to explain the story.” Stanislaw adds.

Esther’s mother looks up at her husband, “What are they talking about dear?”

Casimir now suddenly stops in his anxious pacing and looks at her, “Oh HO! Looks like some exposition is required, Mr. Stanislaw?”

“Yes Mr Casimir. Exposition.”

“Would you do the honor of showing Mrs. Friedman your fine dental work?”

“Oh, why certainly Mr. Casimir.” Mr. Stanislaw says and opens his mouth as two fangs grow from his canine teeth. He hisses at her.

Sarah Freidman turns away in horror, and embraces her husband, Noah, from the side.

Noah Freidman focuses his shotgun’s attention onto Stanislaw – he does not flinch at the sight of the vampire’s hiss.

His wife falls to her knees imploringly, “No . . . No no no no no.”

“Now . . . now. No need to get excited. After all, it’s only teeth.” Mr. Casimir tells her calmly.

“Leave my family alone.” Sarah Friedman pleads.

Nikki is suddenly aware that Samantha Brook has moved and is circling the farmhouse.

What is up too?

“Why have you come back? Why now? After all these years?” Noah Friedman demands trying to contain his own fear.

Nikki looks up and sees through the third story window, young Esther, watching, looking down upon the scene that is taking place below at her new swing-set. Nikki feels the struggling Esther, the adult Esther, trying to free herself from her grip – and Nikki feels so helpless – she lowers her eyes as she all too suddenly is aware that these are the vampires Esther had told her about. These are vampires who killed Esther’s parents – and, she knows what is to come next.

And she is completely, utterly powerless to do anything to stop it.

Mr. Casimir looks hurt, as if the statement was an accusation in that they had taken so long, “Oh, not just after these generations. We’ve been searching for a long time. David just did an exceptional job of an epic game of hide and go seek.”

“Norway was a suka.” Mr. Stanislaw nods.

“And the war set back our efforts significantly.” Mr. Casimir agrees, “But alas, we had such a long time to carry out our orders. And so we have followed them.”

“Orders?” Noah Friedman eyes narrow as he asks, “And just what are your orders?”

“Why, to return misplaced furniture.” Mr. Casimir tells him evenly.

Samantha Brook now slips through the fence and hides behind a cow.

Noah Friedman, hearing the reply cringes, “Is that all you think of us as? I always wondered. The journal was never—“

Mr. Casimir’s head turns suddenly; his eyes widening, “Journal?’ He takes a step forward, “Oh my dear Noah, did Little David write it all down in black and white.”

Mr. Stanislaw, his hands now gripping the chain links of the swing, shakes his head, “Probably more black and yellow by now.”

Esther struggles against the inhuman grip of Nikki, who holding her firmly steps back to in order to slip further into the trees, “Nik—please, let me go. I can save them this time!” Her eyes filled with tears, her voice pleading.

Mr. Casimir now waves his hand dismissively, “Details, details. Mere details. But—you would not mind showing me would you?”

“Never!” Noah Friedman snaps back at him.

Nikki whispers in her ear, “No, my sweet Esther, we can not. We can not change time.”

A slow shake of his head, Mr. Casimir looks at up at the grey clouds overhead, obscuring the sun, “I figured as such. Well—never mind. It is merely the memoirs of a young, broken piece of furniture.”

Mr. Stainslaw lets go of the swing, “But of course, and now we have a nice set to be returned to the house of Bathory.”

Nikki cannot believe what she has just heard – the name Bathory. Bathory? How is it that possible – are these men. These monsters connected in some way – with her mother?

Sarah Friedman looks up at Noah, “What is this all about? Noah, I still don’t—“

Gun on the vampires, Noah Friedman, never taking his eyes off the two intruders, says to his wife, ”Later dear.”

“Think of us as delivery boys.” Mr. Casimir tells her.

Mr. Stanislaw agrees: “Yes, but I don’t think the house needs a whole set. Just the centerpiece. Now sometimes, things break in shipping. Small fragile things if they aren’t handled with care.”

“No one is going anywhere with you.” Noah Friedman emphatically tells them.

Mr. Casimir frowns, “I don’t see how a coffee table has much say in the matter.”

He now begins to approach the couple.

Esther now struggles harder, “Oh, God no, please Nikki – please no . . . He’s going to—” as she tires to break free.

Noah Friedman fires the shotgun.

Adult Ester’s freezes – well aware that it is NOW too late!

The crack of the gunshot’s report echoes across the farmland.

The cows lift their heads.

Birds take flight from the tress.

The lead slugs punch a considerable hole in Mr. Casimir’s chest.

He looks down at the carnage of the open wound of his chest, “Oh, now, looks like I’ve stubbed my toe on the coffee table . . . “ He says as his fangs begin to appear.

He continues to walks slowly toward the couple.

“Sarah! Run!” Noah Friedman urgently yells to his wife.

Another shotgun blast.

The report echoing across the farmland.

The vampire stops for a moment- then continues his slow approach.

Nikki clings tightly to her, feels her fists strike her as Esther struggles to be free. “God Nikki you know what happens –” Esther says against Nikki’s palm that is trying to keep her from yelling out.

Sarah Friedman tries to turn to run into the house.

Only Mr. Stanislaw, moving in a blur, appears next to the fleeing Sarah, “I don’t think so.” Claws have grown from his fingers.

In one deft move, he completely severs the woman’s head from her body.

Little Esther, eyes horrified, wide in disbelief, her mouth open, from above, watches now as the head topples from her mother’s shoulders. She watches as the vampire reaches down and lifts her mother’s body and turning it upside down lets the gushing blood splatter, run down his chin as he drinks the flow of blood.

Mr. Casimir just as quickly has recovered from the impact and damage of the shotgun pellets and knocks the shotgun out of Noah’s hands with barely a second thought, as his strong, long nailed fingers grips his neck and in one deft move rips open the soft flesh of the throat to grasp the windpipe and strip it now from the severed flesh of the Noah Friedman’s neck. He stands satisfied in his blood lust as he licks the blood off the man’s esophagus – doing so in front of the dying man’s eyes – before he tosses him to the ground.

Nikki in a blood lust of her own, fighting the overwhelming savage urge to race across the open verdant landscape and rip the heads off these monsters, looks in horror to see the young Esther – still at the window, a witness to the monstrous evil taking place in the yard below.

For the next several minutes, the two vampires overcome in their inhuman frenzy drain all the blood from their victims in the most brutal ways possible, spilling most of it in their savagery. It was very evident to Nikki that they were not driven by hunger but by a desire for pure mutilation. Blood and organs are strewn about the place, a bit of brain even decorates the railing of the house, and some intestines dangle from the new swing set, now heavily stained with blood at the base.

The two vampires suddenly regain their composure and having finished their meal, stand up and begin to adjust their clothing.

Adult Esther as well as the younger Esther stands watching in shock from their respective locations, tears welling in their eyes.

Nikki grabs Esther as they collapse to the ground, Esther is crying and fighting to be free, “Nik — please!!! Let me go to them!!!”

The two murderous vampires now begin to stroll back towards the woods – aware that Samantha Brook has subtly drawn her switchblade. For what purpose – surely she knows . . .

“What about the little girl?” Nikki hears Mr. Stanislaw ask.

Mr. Casimir, wiping at the blood on his sleeve shrugs, “If the oracle is right, she will come to us soon enough.”

Mr. Stainslaw looks at him with knitted brows, “You know that’s not exactly what she said.”

Mr. Casimir shrugs, “It’s close enough.”

“But what if—“

“Look, we’ve done our job. Now lets get to cover before the storm clouds break.” Mr. Stanislaw directs his partner.

Samantha Brook stands up from behind the cow . . . moving now quickly toward the fence as if she were about to follow them, her switchblade ready to draw it’s own blood. And for the first time, she can hear Nikki’s voice, in her mind, as Nikki casts her thoughts, “No, we can not interfere, we can not change time.”

“So you’re saying that we are just a couple of pawns, setting events in motion beyond our understanding.” Mr. Stanislaw muses.

Mr. Casimir, moving into the forest across the road from the farm house appears to think about it for a moment, “Well, beyond your understanding anyway.”

And as they enter the trees they suddenly begin to fade and then vanish from sight.

All is quiet.

The cattle return to their grazing.

The tops of the cedars and Douglas-firs bow in the wind.

Nikki looks at Esther and cradles her head against her shoulder, letting her sob against her as her eyes have narrowed, grown cold and nearly black – she can feel her fangs sharp against her lips as she so wants these two. And as she looks to the point where they disappeared she vows she will find them again—knowing that if and when time is back from being out of joint, at least she does have time on her side.

Nikki can not help up stare at the window where she can still the young Esther standing behind the cold surface of the windowpane, staring out at the carnage in horror and shock.

Nikki holding the adult Esther for a brief moment feels that the little girl lifts her eyes from the bodies of her parents and looks to the trees—and sees her looking up at her.

She feels for a moment their eyes embrace.

And then comes the blackness.

And the white light.

Through endless corridors by trial and error
And one door leads to the point of return.

And Nikki is sitting on the floor of Samantha Collins’ bedroom suite, holding the sobbing Esther.

And the last grains of sand fall from the timepiece.

“My God! What just happened!” Samantha Collins stands, her hand to her out as she looks at the reappearing forms of Nikki, Esther, and Samantha Brook.

Esther in Nikki’s arms lies looking now at the dreadful painting, her hand in her hands, sobbing.

Nikki looks up to Samantha Collins, “What did you see?”

“You—you just winked out of existence for like for maybe two or three seconds!” Samantha exclaims, “Where—where the h**l did you . . . go?”

Samantha Brook frowns and looks around, her hands closing the switchblade, “We went to Disney land, “ she growls.

Nikki looks down at Esther, “Esther are you all right?”

“Mama! Papa!” she continues to sob profusely.

“I am so sorry Esther. So sorry you had to relive that again.”

“Why!? Why again!? The visions where bad enough then but now!?” She turns and looks at Nikki, her eyes cold and hard, “I could have done something! I should have done something to save them this time. Only you – you wouldn’t let me!’

“What?” Sam Collins asks, “What is going on? Nikki?”

Samantha Brook stares down at Esther, “What, and this time likely gotten yourself killed instead?”

Esther’s hands cling to Nikki, ”Why wouldn’t you let me do something?” Tears stream down her face and onto Nikki’s coat.

“We couldn’t help Esther— it would have . . . effected, God knows what, we would have changed time.” She tries to explain, and then looks up at Samantha Collins, her dark eyes beginning to lighten. ‘This bloody bookcase, where did you get it?” she demands.

Samantha Brook begins pacing about, subconsciously “cleaning” herself of the experience – happy that at least it was not one of her hallucinations.

Esther, opens her eyes to look the painting, “Mama! Good god! Take it away! Take it Away!”

“The bookcase?” Samantha Collins asks confused – bewildered. Well aware that Nikki is involved in some crazy assed-s**t – but what has it to do with her and the bookcase. “What has the bookcase got to do with anything . . . change time? Nikki what the h**l are you taking about?”

Nikki looks over to Samantha, “Samantha can you—can you please remove that painting.”

Esther closes her eyes again and continues to weep.

Samantha Brook quickly walks over to Esther and taking off her jacket and places it over Esther’s head blocking her view.

Samantha Collins, still not at all certain what is going on, walks over to the painting and moves it across the room and turns it to face the wall, “Now, will you please tell me what the f**k is going on?”

Samantha Brook kneels down beside Esther and tires to comfort her, “Just look to the ground and breathe deeply.”

Nikki still holding the sobbing Esther, “Somehow—this, this bookcase, it displaced time. We—we went back to a time—we went to Esther’s birthday the day her family was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Samantha Collins asks in amazement, “ Esther’s family was murdered? I did not know that—I never knew that!”

Esther takes deep breaths and breaks away from Nikki’s embrace, and rises from the floor, trying to regain a sense of composure. “I’m ok . . . I-I need some time. Please!” She sniffs, and looks over at Samantha Collins, “Do you have a bathroom?’ Still sniffing from her tears, feeling odd with the coat still over her.

Samantha Brook looks at Samantha Collins, “Now you why do you think she punches all the kids dressed as batman every Halloween.”

Aware that all this time she had never known the deepest darkest secret in Esther’s life, Samantha Collins steps over and removes the coat and looks at Esther, “I am so sorry. Esther I always thought they died in a car crash.”

Samantha Brook starts pacing once again – not certain what she should do, but feeling there must be something she should – something she needs to do.

“And yes, there is a bathroom down stairs.” Samantha Collins tells her.

“Are you okay Esther – do you want me to come with you?” Nikki asks.

“I’ll be fine. Please.” Esther says as she stands taking a deep, shaky breath and turns to leaves the room going down the stairs.

“Wait a moment?’ Samantha Collins turns and looks at Nikki, “Where is Rhyaad, he was with you.”

Nikki sighs, “I don’t know, we—he did not arrive in the same time as we did.”

Samantha Brook says as she paces, “I’m betting he’s in some teashop in old timey London.”

“This is all so.” Samantha Collins stands, hand rubbing her mouth as she looks at the grotesque bookcase, “Nikki please watch Esther. She should not be alone.”

Nikki turns to Samantha Brook, “Samantha would you make sure Esther is okay, I want to talk to Sam.”

She looks at Nikki carefully, “Me? I can try.”

Samantha Collins turns to look at Nikki urgently, “I do not know anything about the bookcase.” He holds up her hands, “It was delivered by Peter Cairo with all this other s**t of my father’s.”

Not certain what to say, or if Esther will even listen – to her, Samantha Brook leaves Nikki and Samantha Collins and heads downstairs. She looks around the paneled corridor and rooms, the mix of antique furnishings with Samantha’s Collins’ newer, more modern; and he finally finds the bathroom, but the door is closed and locked.

She knocks gently upon it and leans against the door, “You ok in there?

Nikki Collins frowns, “Cairo—Peter Cairo brought you this bookcase?”

Samantha Brook can hear Esther sniff from behind the closed door, “I’m fine.”

She does not of course sound at all fine.

“Yes, and he has been bringing me other things to put into it.” Samantha Collins nods, “Nikki, what is it about this bookcase?”

“Sam, this bookcase is some kind of a time device.”

“I just need some time alone.” Esther says from within the bathroom.

“Oh, that is b*******t Esther and you know it.”

Samantha Collins crosses her cars and looks now at Nikki, her eyes narrowing, “How is that even possible, you mean like in H.G. Wells?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how it even happened. But, yes, somehow this bookcase creates a time rift. It does not seem to last so very long but . . . there is apparently a disparity in the shift of time. You said we were gone for how long?”

“It seems like maybe three seconds no more than that, you all just disappeared in a flash of light.”

“I would say, for us – it was perhaps fifteen at most.”

From behind the bathroom door, Esther’s voice sounds louder, as if she has stepped up closer to it, “I’m sorry Sam. I’m not fine. But – please leave me alone for a few minutes.”

“Esther—could you open up for just a moment?”

Samantha Collins is incredulous, “You really went back in time?”

“Yes—and it was perfectly ghastly. It was the day of Esther’s birthday. The day her family was killed. Murdered. By – two vampires.”

“Vampires?” Samantha says aghast. “Oh my God Nikki!”

The sound of the lock being turned is audible as Samantha Brook looks down at the doorknob.

“O-Okay . . . “ Esther says, unlocking the door but does not open it.

Slowly, Samantha Brook turns the knob and opens the door.

“Her birthday party?”

“Yes,” Nikki replies, and turns to take a step closer to the bookcase, “Esther had told me about it – they had gone outside for her to play on her new swing set. “ She looks at the snow globe, which is a bit too large for what one would expect a snow globe to be – but she had already observed that – she, did not see the odd timer that Esther had seemed to be holding anywhere. “We arrived in the woods, near the house – where we could see them, Esther and her mother and father, at the swing. Just as they were arriving . . .”

“The vampires?”

Nikki nods, “Yes.”

“And you—couldn’t do anything?”

Esther stands leaning with her hands on the sink, and her eyes facing the mirror.

Nikki looks at her somberly, “Of course not! How could we? We would have disrupted time . . . “

“And so what – these monsters just murdered her family and no one ever – they just got away?”

Nikki’s blue eyes darken, “Oh, they might have until now – but, being vampires, they are still around somewhere. And now I know who they are. I will find them.”

Samantha Brook steps ever so tentatively closer toward her – not certain how Esther will react, not wanting to be a fool and making things worse, knowing how she feels about her, and then, she wraps her arms around Esther, holding her gently.

Samantha Collins stands and looks at Nikki, her hands are trembling.

Nikki stops her inspection of the bookcase, “What is it?”

Esther does not react to Samantha Brook’s embrace, “I love my parents Sam. I love them dearly and I know they are up there lookin’ down, wishin’ me th’ best.”

“It’s my fault.” Samantha Collins’ eyes filling with tears, “This godd***ed thing! It is my f**king bookcase. It’s my fault for having this monster in the first place. Making Esther have to live through that pain again . . . Nicole I have know Esther a long time, she is a very good friend . . . I would have never . . .”

“And-and the sad part is that I try to forget them. I try to repress their memories, and only once a year do I think about them in depth.” Esther tells Samantha, who nods sadly.

Esther wipes a tear from her eye, “And you know what Sam? You know what? I thought I had gotten over it.”

Samantha Brook sighs softly, “You never get over it.”

Nikki steps over and gives Sam a hug, “It is not your fault. You had no idea about this—whatever it is.”

“God Nikki—what else do I not know about?” Samantha Collins says abruptly, “I am going to get an axe. I going to f**king chop this thing back into h**l.”

Esther turns to look at Samantha Brook, and cannot help the sniff.

“Somewhere deep inside it will always hurt.” Samantha tells her, “I am sorry for that.”

“No!” Nikki says urgently, “Not—not until we learn more about it. Just be careful around it . . . until I speak to Cairo.”

Samantha Brook hugs Esther close, “But you loved them. If you want to block out the day they died I don’t blame you –but don’t . . . don’t forget your parents.

So close, Samantha Collins reaches out and takes the former lover’s hand, “Oh, God, Nicole I so f**king miss you.”

Nikki looks at her affectionately, “I know. I—I know.

Samantha Collins wants to take her in her arms, wants to kiss her, wants – wants things to be the way they were before she found out she was a Collins – that Quentin Collins was her father. But she takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay, I am not a clinging ex-girlfriend.”

“So, Esther, never forget them.” Samantha Brook tells her softly.

“So, how does this bloody thing work,” Nikki says changing the subject – before she kisses her.

Sam walks over at looks at the bookcase, slipping her hands into her back pockets. “It’s the globe.”

Esther sniffing, using a tissue to wipe at her nose, “I won’t Sam.”

“The Globe?” Nikki steps over and reaches out to touch it.

“They’re proud of you, just know that?” Samantha Brook tells her.

Esther looks at her with red and swollen eyes, “Are they?”

“Yes!”

“No—don’t touch it!” Samantha’s hand reaches out and stops Nikki. “It has to be – I mean, you saw. It was the last item that Peter Cairo brought me.”

“The last thing placed in the bookcase,” Nikki agrees, and then pulls her hand free and touches the globe.

Nothing happens.

Only, the glass feels unusually warm rather than cool to the touch.

“Very proud of you,” Samantha Brook hugs her close—and looks at herself oddly in the bathroom mirror.

“Remember he said everything has a place and everything in its place.” Samantha Collins reminds her.

“I need to speak to Mr. Cairo.” Nikki says, “Among others.”

Sam turns to her, “Oh, the hour glass.”

“The hour glass?”

Samantha points at it as it lies on its side.

“Yeah . . . proud of drunkard, smoking, backwoods recluse Esther the Hunter. A hermit.” Esther disagrees looking now at her red eyes and nose in the mirror.

Nikki reaches for it and stands it up – but nothing happens.

“Now—that did not not come from Cairo.”

She turns it over and lets the sands begin to fall through—as they both expect something to happen. Only, nothing does.

“Well, where did that come from?”

Samantha Brook looking at Esther in the mirror, shaking her head, “Proud of a strong independent woman who despite what happened to her, befriended a vampire and saved the world.

“That author who is staying in the East Wing, Victoria.” Samantha Collins tells her.

“Oh yeah, I took a life.” Esther frowns, “Remind me of that too why not.”

“Victoria Wren? She put the hour glass in the book case?” Nikki casts a side-glance to Samantha.

“Yeah. She said she found it in the East Wing and brought in here one day and said she thought it would look good in the bookcase.”

Samantha Brook tightens her lips, “You took the life of a man who had sold himself to the devil—you stopped a man who was about to unleash untold horrors . . . Esther you did it to save the world.”

Esther just looks at Sam’s reflection.

“You know as well as I how many men are going to be condemned to hell should the messiah ever come.”

Esther looks down. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“H**l Esther, that night you pretty much were the Messiah,” She chuckles rocking her back and forth.

Samantha Collins slumps down in a chair, “God this is a mess Nikki.”

“I’m no Messiah Sam.”

Gently turning her head to face her, Samantha Brook looks at her, “You sacrificed an ideal close to your heart to save millions of lives, tell me that’s not Messiah like.’

“Yes, it is Sam, yes it is.” Nikki nods.

“What do you think happened to Ryhaad?”

Esther rubs her puffy eyes, “I don’t know, but d***it Sam, lets go back upstairs.”

Samantha Brook nods, “Okay Esther,” and smiles softly taking her arm.

They both ascend the stairs and return to Samantha Collin’s bedroom suite. Esther, entering cannot help but look over to the painting that has been flipped around to face the wall.

“Well Nikki, you’re the magician. You know more about this kind of stuff than me, so if you want, please take a look at all of Quentin’s journals if you want.”

Samantha Brook looks over at Samantha and Nikki and can not help but wonder – how close they may have been once they were alone together.

Nikki turns to see Esther entering the room, “Esther, are you okay?”

“Esther I am so sorry – I did not know anything about this old bookcase—” Samantha Collins says walking over and rubbing her upper arms.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.” Then moving aside points to the back of the painting’s canvas. “And please get rid of that horrid thing next opportunity.”

“But—what if we need it to make the magic shelves work?” Samantha Brook protests.

“I never knew why it effected you so much – until now.” Samantha Collins nods, then looks over at Nikki, “Do you think the painting is part of the bookcase – time machine, device, whatever?”

“I have no idea what makes this thing work.”

Both Nikki and Samantha Collins look at one another, now aware that nothing had happened when they touched the bookcase, or items upon it – but then again, the painting had been moved.

“I don’t care if it is or not, I just never want to see it again.” Esther’s voice low, as if she is emotionally drained.

“Could I have it then?” Samantha Brooks asks enthusiastically, walking over to tilt it so that she could look at the painting once more, “I mean – if it doesn’t power the bookcase that is . . .”

“Sam you said that you got this from Cairo –” Nikki says, “Did the painting come with it?”

“No – not with it, it came separately, with the trunks.”

“Did he tell you anything about it, at all?”

“The painting?” Samantha asks, watching now as Miss Brook tilts the horrible canvas to view the painting, “No – but, I know it is a Phillip George Saltsonstall, which is actually quite rare as he destroyed a lot of his work just before he died in 1907. I know it’s horrible – but it is a Saltonstall, which makes it rather valuable. But – it didn’t come with the bookcase – and I am the one who put it there, behind it . . . so I don’t think it has anything at all to do with – you know – the strange properties . . . and all.”

Esther gives Sam a look that is a cross between disbelief and disgust as watches her standing there as if admiring the disgusting thing.

Nikki turns her attention now to Esther as she returns, “Esther, are you . . . are you alright?” She asks as she walks over and sits beside her.

“What? Yeah yeah. I’m fine now. I’ll be fine. Trust me. I got it out. I got it all out . . . Sam . . . er, Collins. Mind if I smoke in here?

“No, Esther, go right ahead – after what you have been through.”

Esther nods appreciatively as she pulls out a battered packet of cigarettes and her Zippo. Snaps it open and flicks the striker as she lights one up, taking a long, long draw from the cigarette.

Nikki takes Esther’s hand, “Esther, I am so sorry, but if it is alright with you can I ask you some questions about . . . what we saw?”

“Yes” smoke exhaling as she speaks, trying to focus now on the far wall as she takes another long pull from the cigarette – squinting one eye against the back curl of smoke.

Samantha Collins paces slowly, looking to the bookcase and shaking her head.

“Esther, those two . . . those vampires—had you ever seen the before that day?”

Esther sighs a breath of bluish silver smoke, “No.”

“Did you ever see them again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you know what they wanted with your parents?” Samantha Brook chimes in as she lets the Saltonstall canvas lean once more against the far wall.

Esther looks down, dropping a bit of ash on the carpet. “No.”

“They seemed – they seemed to know your father. As if they had been looking for him – but from their accents they were Eastern European. Where was your father from originally?”

Esther rubs the palm of her left hand, the cigarette between her fingers, against her eye as she ponders the question for a moment, “Caribou. I think.” She takes her hand down, “I think he had relatives in Caribou.”

“Santa Claus kind’a caribou?” Samantha Brook asks somewhat theatrically.

“What? No the City.”

Nikki looks over at Samantha for a moment, then back to Esther. “I happened to overhear, you know, my hearing,” not wanting to remind her any more than necessary that she too was a vampire, “They mentioned Norway. Did he ever say anything about having been to Norway?”

“I don’t remember. Probably not. I don’t see why—“

Still trying to make some sense of it all, Samantha Collins turns from the bookcase to look at Esther’s cigarette, and so longs for one, having given them up months ago.

Esther taps the cigarette, sending more ash onto the carpet.

“I – am just asking because – I – I want to be certain you are safe. I have no idea what or why they were apparently after your father.”

Samantha Brook now eyes the carpet and with the toe of her boot scoots one of the scattered papers lying on the floor over to catch Esther’s wayward ashes. Samantha Collins turns to her and gives her a smile as if to say thanks, I had not noticed.

For the moment, Nikki does not mention that she had also overheard the name Bathory – something she was going to have major words with her mother about shortly. “I know this is hard, having to think back about that day – but – afterwards, did you happen to find a journal.”

“A journal? Afterwards? Afterwards I . . . no, I did not find any journal. Why would I look for a Journal?”

“I happened to overhear them, and apparently you father kept a journal.” Nikki tells her, “I feel certain there might be something within it – something that may be a clue as to what these murdering b*****ds were doing there—why they were there at all.”

“Afterwards – I went inside I couldn’t hear anything. Except—well, you know . . . “

Nikki, holding Esther’s hand squeezes it. “I know. God Esther, I have no idea how you . . . I know you told me about that day—but seeing it . . . hearing it . . .”

Esther once again rubs her palm against her eye, “I did not know he kept a journal. But if he did, if it would help you, it’s probably still there.”

Samantha Brook suddenly blinks, “You mean – hasn’t anyone lived in the house since?”

“And yes. It is hard enough going there every year nowadays . . . But no Sam. Technically I was supposed to inherit the house. Sold the farmland. But I could not sell the house.” She takes another needed drag of the cigarette.

Samantha Brook kneels now and begins to idly sift through the mess of papers in the center of the room.

Esther turns to Nikki, her eyes red and swollen, “Nik, you got any other questions?” she asks wanting to be done – wanting to get away and be by herself . . . as she has always done.

“Just a few, so the house, the house is still intact?”

“Yeah. It’s a wreck but it’s still there.”

“Do you think—and if not, I can do it alone, but do you think you could go back. I think we need to see if we can find this journal.”

Samantha Brook listens intently, looking at the papers, feeling kind of awkward, never having been sure of how to handle such issues.

Esther comes to the end of the cigarette and starts wadding up the filter and nods, not looking at Nikki – or anyone, instead just staring at the floor, “Yeah. . . yeah I can take you there.”

And then she suddenly stands, “But not right now.”

Nikki looks at Esther in all seriousness, “Esther – I promise you. I will find these b*****ds and I WILL avenge your loss.”

“And I’ll help in any way I can,” Samantha Brook says as she places a paper she has folded out of a blank sheet of note paper she found on the floor upon her head as she turns to look at them

“I-I don’t know. . . I don’t think we sho-“ And Esther sighs heavily, “I just need to get some rest.”

Nikki rises from her seat, “I understand that it is all very painful right now – but, when you feel up to it, let’s try and see if he left his journal somewhere within your old house. But, yes, you need some rest and so I will take you back to the Old House.”

“No.” Esther says in a soft halting voice, “That’s fine. Really. You stay here an’ figure out as much as you can about this. . . “ She Indicates the bookcase, “Thing, as you can. I think I would like some time with my thoughts for a moment.

Nikki nods, “Okay, you have your phone, call me – please call me if you need me.”

Esther nods, “Yes – I will.”

She walks to the door.

Nikki stands watching her as she slips her hands into her coat pocket, feeling helpless to ease Esther’s pain. Her hand grips her cell phone.

“Esther please,” Samantha Collins takes a step forward, “If you need someone to—you know, have a drink and talk to . . . like old times, please let me know.”

Esther turns and waves Sam away and whispers, “Lilah Tov Ema, Abba.” She steps out of the door and walks down the stairs, “Lilah tov.”

Nikki turns now; her blue eyes are dark, filled with anger.

“Nikki what is it?” Samantha Collins has seen that look before—

Samantha Brook looks at them both.

Nikki doesn’t say anything; she just takes out her cell phone and touches out the number, and puts the phone to her ear.

She listens as it rings the number she dialed and she looks at Samantha Collins – and remains silent.

“What is it, I know that look!”

“Mother?” Nikki says into the phone.

Samantha Brook now steps closer to Samantha – as she too knows it is best not disturb her when she has that look . . .

Erzsebet Bathory on the other end of the phone call says, “Nicole?”

“I need to see you now—right the f**k now!”

“Nicole—whatever is the matter.”

“I need some answers to some questions—and I may . . .”

“You may what?”

“Depending on your answers I may just kill you – you bitch!”

“I have no idea what the problem is – but I am not in Collinsport at the moment, but we need to talk. Do come over.”

Samantha Brook puts her face in her hands—what is this all about?

Nikki hangs up.

“Miss Nikki, calm down” Samantha Brook says hesitatingly.

Samantha Collins stares at her, “Nikki what the h**l is wrong with you? That’s your f**king mother you are talking to.”

Nikki looks a her, the blue eyes filled with rage, “I overheard one of those murdering b*****ds say he was working for the House of Bathory. And if my mother had anything—anything at all to do with Esther’s parents, I will tear her f**king head off myself.”

Cue Music End of Episode.