From: Laurie Cohen Fenster Subject: Forever Not: Nightmare (1/2) This is a Forever Not story (kind of). I am working on another (more *serious*) one, but it's not being very cooperative; still, I hope to get it done before the deadline. (Fingers crossed.) Kudos to Susan, Jude and Sharon for thinking this up! The Forever Not stories have been great reading material! NIGHTMARE (1/2) "I understand now," Nick said calmly, watching LaCroix with narrowed eyes. "Understand? You?" LaCroix sneered contemptuously. "Don't be ridiculous. Put that ridiculous toy down, Nicholas, and go home." Nicholas sensed the movement as the other denizens of the Raven moved away to give the two antagonists a wide berth, but his eyes never left his opponent. "It isn't a toy." He shifted his grip on the spring-loaded crossbow, but its wooden tipped arrow pointed unerringly at LaCroix's heart. "All these years, LaCroix. All these years, and all I had to do to cross back was to kill you. No wonder you tried to stop me from learning the truth." "You're deluding yourself, Nicholas. As usual." LaCroix's voice dripped scorn. "You can't kill me. I'm much too powerful for that. Now, put away your little toy, or I shall take it away from you. If you force me to do that, I shall be ... most unhappy. Which will it be, Nicholas?" In response, Nick's finger tightened fractionally on the trigger. Before the wooden bolt shot forward, LaCroix had already moved. He was upon Nicholas before the bolt struck the far wall where LaCroix had been standing. Eyes blazing and fangs descended, the vampires struggled with each other... * * * Natalie Lambert sipped at her cola as she pondered the last kernels of popcorn in the bowl before her. <> she decided. <> It was rare she took the opportunity to be this self-indulgent and indolent, but she'd badly needed a "mental health day"; work was really getting on her nerves. Now, after pizza, three movies, and popcorn to accompany them, she was beginning to feel more human again. She slipped the last unbroken kernels into her mouth as the telephone rang. "Hello?" She tried not to crunch as she spoke. "Dr. Lambert?" "Jeanette? Is that you? What's wrong?" The young medical technician sounded so upset, Natalie hardly recognized the voice. A sense of foreboding filled the young intern. It wasn't like the hospital to disturb her on her day off, even if that *day* only had a few hours left to run. Her suspicions were correct. "I'm sorry to disturb you at home, Dr. Lambert, but we've had terrible trouble with Mr. Brabant. He attacked Dr. LaCroix during a session. If Mr. Schanke and the other orderlies hadn't been there, I don't want to think what might have happened. Do you think you could come in right away? I can't find Dr. Stonetree, and you're the only other doctor Brabant's been seeing of late, and Dr. LaCroix is still in the infirmary getting sewn up." Jeannette was practically in tears as she choked out the story. "It's all right, Jeannette. I'm on my way." Natalie hung up, looking regretfully at the television screen, where Rick was arguing with Ilsa as the plane to Lisbon warmed its engines in the distance. Oh well, she knew every line by heart anyway. And from the way Jeanette sounded, this attack was the worst yet. She pondered their problem patient on the short drive to the Institute. The Hamilton Institute for the Criminally Insane had never before housed a criminal as notorious as the self-proclaimed vampire, Nicholas Brabant. "Nick the Nightslayer," as the tabloids had named him. Eight deaths had been attributed to the one-time police officer, before the ninth victim's escape had put an end to his reign of terror. Eight terrible deaths, the killer drinking the spurting blood of his throat-slashed victims even before they were dead. And you'd never know it to look at him. When he was calm, Nicholas Brabant had a sweet, inoffensive face, a soft-spoken, polite manner. She even found him attractive, though she chided herself for that bit of unprofessionalism. But when the "vampire" took over: watch out! Sadly, that had been happening more and more. And after all the progres they'd made last year. Dr. LaCroix had even coaxed Nick into occasionally eating solid food and sitting in the sunlight for short periods of time. But then he'd gone into transference. He'd transferred all his fears, all his passions, all his hatreds onto poor Dr. LaCroix, and now things were as bad as they'd ever been. Natalie could even guess what had happened. Her boss was too dedicated for his own good. Undoubtedly, he'd seen the current drug regimen was getting nowhere, and changed it. She shook her head as she pulled into her space on the Institute grounds. *Dr. LaCroix, you're a saint. I don't know why you waste your time trying to help this maniac. Drug him to the gills and send him off to la-la-land to kill all the imaginary victims he wants; that's what I'd do in your place.* lecf@aol.com (Laurie)