The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick

Jessica can’t feel anything.

The pain was excruciating at first, but now there is just nothing, an absence of sensation. She lays on a table, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy and still. Her father’s silver dagger had done his terrible business.

Madeline appears in her view. She looks down with concern Jessica finds genuine, if only just. “Jessica? Can you hear me?” Her voice is muffled and dull.

Jessica’s eyes slowly slide over to her.

“She’s alive,” Madeline reports. She says it with some relief, but Jessica is skeptical.

Matthew appears as well. He looks down on her with a vague expression.

“Dad? I said- .”

“I heard you.”

Alexander stands in the center of the ritual site. He looks at his outstretched hands. He flexes his fingers and clenches his fists. He had put his expensive dress shirt back on, but it was open and disheveled.

“What…what do we do with her now?”

“She’s served her purpose.”

Madeline looks to the nearby table. Dozens of vials of inky black blood sit in racks. “Then I’m going to heal her.”

Before Madeline can place a hand on her little sister, Matthew suddenly seizes her wrist. She looks up in surprise and is met with a scowl. Matthew shakes his head.

“Your brother is right,” Alexander says, despite not looking in their direction.

She pulls her arm away. “You said she’s served her purpose. There’s no reason for her to continue to suffer.”

Matthew nods and then motions his thumb across his throat.

“What is that going to accomplish, Matthew? It’s not going to bring Mom back.”

“No,” Alexander says, “but she could be a threat if allowed to live.”

“I thought this was supposed to make you invincible.”

“I never put all my eggs in one basket, Madeline. She dies. Matthew.”

Madeline steps between her brother and sister. Matthew looks at her quizzically. She places her hand on his chest. “Matthew, she’s been through enough. You two were so close once.”

Matthew looks away, exhaling heavily.

“You knew this was going to happen, Madeline.”

Matthew gestures to their father, signaling his agreement.

Steeling herself, she looks at Alexander knowingly. “Maybe I think enough blood has been spilled tonight.”

Alexander lifts his head but does not turn. “Madeline- .”

“No. I’m not backing down on this, Dad. I have supported you through all of this. I will get my way this time.”

Matthew looks back and forth between them, clearly confused. He feels like he’s missing something, like someone who doesn’t get an in-joke.

Before their conversation can proceed, the door to the loft slowly swings inward with a soft creak. Eleanor casually walks in, shaking off a bit of rain. “Knock knock.”

Jessica’s eyes flare and sharpen. That voice. She knows that voice. She just wishes she knew from where.

Madeline and Matthew look at each other and then back to her. “Who the hell are you?”

Alexander finally turns to face the rest of the room. He stares at the entry in bewilderment. “That’s impossible.”

Eleanor wiggles her fingers. “It’s a world of magic. Nothing is impossible.”

“Is that…” Madeline looks her over, “Eleanor Warwick? You said she was dead.”

“She was.”

“Well, what can I say? You can’t keep a good…” Eleanor trails off as she steps further into the room and sees Jessie on the table.

Jessie is pale as a ghost. Long deep cuts run down her arms, the flesh pulled back almost to the bone. Her legs have been similarly flayed. So much of her black blood has been lost, it trickles off the sides of the table. A black ring circles her on the floor.

Eleanor’s eye twitches at the sight. Her nostrils flare. Her lips curve into a frown.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to kill someone twice, Ms. Warwick. Thank you.”

Alexander’s voice brings Eleanor’s eyes away from Jessie. Almost immediately, her face calms. She glances at everyone in the room. “Before you kill me again, isn’t anyone going to ask where Adrian is?”

Matthew’s brows peak. He steps aggressively forward, scowling menacingly.

“Ah,” Eleanor says pointing at him. “So you’re the only one who wasn’t in on it.”

Taken aback, Matthew’s aggression fades. He looks at Madeline. She looks back at him before glancing away.

“Doesn’t look very concerned, does she?”

Matthew glances back at Eleanor before focusing on Madeline. He grabs her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes with panicked confusion on his face.

Madeline’s eyes water. “Matthew…I- .”

“Son.”

Matthew looks at his father, his eyes wide in alarm.

Alexander stares coldly back. “It had to be done.”

His face slack in horror, Matthew slowly shakes his head.

“A sacrifice had to be made. It had to be something I cherished. I loved your brother. My firstborn. But he was arrogant and foolish. He could never be my heir.” He gestures to Madeline. “Madeline is my heir. She has been since she was a child.”

Matthew turns his horrified gaze to his sister. She desperately avoids his eyes.

“Now tell him about the false memories.”

Whipping his head around, Matthew looks at Eleanor.

She looks past him, focusing on Alexander. “Tell him who really killed his mother.”

Silence takes the room. Alexander stares at Eleanor, his eyes stabbing at her like daggers. Madeline puts her face in her hands.

Matthew’s arms fall to his side. He sways slightly, lightheadedness washing over him. Slowly, he looks at his father. His eyes plead for some kind of reassurance. A defense. A denial. Anything. Alexander doesn’t even look at him.

“I hate to be a narc, Matthew,” Eleanor says, “but isn’t your sister the one who’s really good at mind magic?”

Madeline lifts her head, her face streaked with tears. Her little brother looks at her in terror and disgust. “It was her idea, Matthew! I swear!”

He shakes his head furiously, refusing to accept the information. He stumbles back when she steps toward him.

“She chose to sacrifice herself! She did it for Dad! She did it for us!”

As he staggers, Matthew bumps the table. He looks down at his flayed little sister. His little sister who is entirely blameless in their mother’s death.

His mouth falls open. He gasps and convulses. Staggering away, he hunches forward and vomits. Madeline runs to his side but he shoves her away with a snarl. He glares hatefully at her with eyes red with tears.

“Matthew. That’s enough, son.”

Jerking his head toward Alexander, Matthew squares to him. He grits his teeth. He takes a ragged, furious breath. “I…”

Madeline gasps as she hears her brother’s voice for the first time in years.

“I…”

“Matthew, please!” she cries.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Matthew bellows. He jabs two fingers against his arm.

“No! No, Matthew! Please!”

Electricity flickers to life as he runs his fingers along the length of his arm.

“Don’t do it, son,” Alexander warns sternly.

With a cry, Matthew throws his arms open. A blue light colors the room as a bolt of electrical fury flies across the room.

Alexander makes a few quick gestures and meets the bolt with an iridescent bubble. The spell strikes the shimmer and reflects back at its caster. The lightning strikes Matthew full in the face.

After a moment of frantic convulsions, Matthew’s body drops to the floor. His head burned down to a blackened and damaged skull.

Madeline wails. She rushes over and places her hands on the body. She tries in vain to heal him, but the damage is done. She leans over the body and sobs.

For a moment, pain flickers across Alexander’s face. Chasing it away, he stares across the room at Eleanor. “You.”

She looks around. “Don’t blame me for this. I haven’t done a thing.”

He steps toward her. “Do you honestly believe any of this is going to stop me?” He opens a palm and his cane jumps into his grasp. “I sacrificed my wife. Three of my children.” He twists the end of the cane and pulls forth the Black Blade. “All so some mediocre disappointment from a decayed House can render it all meaningless?

Anastacia gave her life. It had to be her. It couldn't sacrifice a trinket or possession. No. This magic is powerful. I had to sacrifice something more precious than words can describe. A horrible thing, but it worked. She created a living incubator. A carrier of demonic blood perfectly balanced, predisposed to acclimate to a human body.”

Eleanor’s brows peak as his eyes begin to shift into familiar pools of inky black.

“The result is a hellblood ritual with a 100% success rate.”

Taking a deep breath, Alexander lets loose a bone-rattling roar. Eleanor lifts a hand to shield her face, but she stands her ground.

“I will enjoy tearing your pathetic city apart! Every House will burn! Those who submit to House Blackwell will receive a painless death! All others will suffer!”

Eleanor lowers her hand and sets her feet. Alexander hesitates slightly, taken aback by her nerve.

Suddenly, points of light, trailed by shadowy wisps appear and circle around her. More and more are conjured without a word. She glares at him, her earlier cavalierness gone in favor of stonefaced fury.

“Carmadie…is…” A dark tremble edges her voice, “mine!”

The wisps suddenly coalesce into a massive extension of her arm. She slams her enormous fist down, driving Alexander through the floor and into the loft below. The wisps disperse to reveal a large, jagged hole in the floor.

Madeline stares at Eleanor, terrified. It only takes a glance from Eleanor to make her put her hands out in surrender. “Please. Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She flicks her finger, casting one of the wisps over to the table, landing between Jessie’s feet.

Stepping out over the opening, Eleanor drops into the apartment below. She gently floats to the floor and looks around.

This loft appears unoccupied. The light from the loft above pours down, creating the single lit spot in which she stands. Panning, she readies herself.

It takes only a second for Alexander to leap out of the darkness. He growls as he drives the Black Blade toward her. She extends a hand and telekinetic forces catch him. Undeterred, he opens his mouth and fire lurches forth.

Eleanor gets her forearm up in time but staggers backward. Dropping, he slashes at her. Eleanor moves her hands, blocking each blow with a flicker of light. As she backpedals to the edge of the shadows surrounding them, Alexander jumps back unexpectedly.

With a few words of power, Alexander calls the shadows into service. Dark, smoky hands reach out of the darkness and grab at Eleanor. Both her arms are seized. A few groping limbs grab her leg and another pulls on her hair. The apparitions drag her into the darkness.

Snarling demonically, Alexander storms toward her, sword at the ready. Just as he began to enter the darkness, a burst of light chases the shadows away. Alexander shields his eyes.

He lowers his hand just in time to see the spear of ethereal light flying toward him. All he can manage is a grunt as the spear stabs into his stomach and runs through him. The pointed end sticks in the floor behind him. He gasps, blood oozing from his mouth. The Black Blade clatters to the floor as his arms drop to his side.

Eleanor approaches casually. She looks him over and shakes her head. She leans in a speaks softly. “You did your best, Mr. Blackwell. Believe me, better people than you have met this fate.”

Suddenly, Alexander reaches up and seizes her by the throat. Shocked, Eleanor grabs his wrist, but can’t wrench it away. Growling animalistically, Alexander walks forward. He drags Eleanor along as he moves the length of the spear, leaving black blood smeared on the weapon behind him.

Once clear of the spear, he effortlessly lifts Eleanor off the ground. Magic swirls around his gut wound, healing it. “I think I’m going to like being a hellblood.”

Summoning a spell, he pumps electricity into Eleanor’s body. She screams, twitching and convulsing. Alexander’s grip remains firm.

In the loft above, Madeline closes her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds below. She wants to help her father, but fighting has never been her strong suit.

On the table, the wisp bursts into dozens of smaller wisps. They slither and circle along Jessie’s body. Her skin is mended and her wounds healed. When they reach her head, the wisps bore into her temples. Suddenly she gasps, her back arching. Her eyes roll back in her head. Memories begin flooding back.

My name is Eleanor Warwick…I- I bound you…rule number one on the Shadow Side, little girl…you will look back on tonight as a pleasant memory…How much of that did you hear…I was not trying to kiss you…Stay…Towles. Like bridge tolls…Fucking rock star…Kill it! Kill it! Kill it…Everybody has a dream…You’ll be free. Just please get out of here…I’ve summoned scarier stuff than you and made ’em my bitch…The next time you come here, you’re going to dress the part…Jessie, I love you!

Madeline flinches at the agonized scream. She looks to the table and her blood runs cold. Jessie sits up on the table. Tears stream down her face. She just screams and screams, as if giving voice to her pain is impossible.

Once she has to finally stop for a breath, she notices Madeline. Madeline’s lip trembles. She holds out her hands pleadingly. “Jessica. Wait.”

Jessie’s face twists into a terrifying scowl. Her lips pull back to show teeth. Her eyes shift to black. She flies off the table, roaring furiously. Pouncing on Madeline, Jessie ignores her tearful begging and grabs her head in both hands.

Bellowing in fury, Jessie drives her sister’s head into the floor over and over. Madeline’s limbs flail at first, but then stiffen, and then drop.

Jessie stops and roars in Madeline’s passive face. Just then, she hears screaming. She whips her head to the hole in the floor. Memories flicker.

“Warwick,” she rasps.

Leaping off Madeline, she scurries for the opening. Madeline stares unblinking at the ceiling. Blood pools under her head, joining the blood violently splattered about.

Below, Alexander enjoys Eleanor’s suffering. She tries to conjure the Dark Force’s power, but the pain scrambles her brain.

“You never really had a chance, Warwick. After all, what could possibly defeat a wizard and a hellblood?”

A small crash behind him draws his attention. He looks over his shoulder to see his youngest. Their black eyes meet. Jessie shakes with uncontrollable rage. Alexander looks down at her hands. Red blood.

His eyes widen in alarm. “Madeline.”

The distraction gives Eleanor the chance to collect herself. She calls forth the shadowy wisps once more. They extend her arm and she clubs Alexander with her powerful limb. Alexander flies across the room and slams into the wall with a force of a car crash.

Dropping to the ground, Eleanor recovers quickly, the wisps swirling around her. She and Jessie approach one another. The darkness fades from each. They stare into each other eyes. Tears run down Jessie’s cheeks.

Eleanor reaches out and touches her face. Rather than recoil, Jessie lets her, closing her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Eleanor says, almost too quiet to be heard.

Jessie opens her large hazel eyes. Her voice trembles. “I just want it to stop. I want it to be over.”

Movement draws their attention. They glance towards it and then back at each other. Jessie sniffs and takes a deep breath. Eleanor lowers her hand. Resolve renewed. They hold each other in a hard glare before nodding.

“I have an answer to your question, Blackwell.”

They turn to him as Alexander rises, shaking off the impact of the attack. He looks back and forth between them, snarling.

“I know what can defeat a wizard and a hellblood.”

She pops her knuckles. Jessie lets the black return to her eyes and she roars furiously.

“A wizard and a hellblood.”