The E-Mail Chain Story

Andie thrust her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat and braced herself as another icy gust of wind hit. Her bare, red cheeks stung from the snow, and as more flakes collected in her eyelashes Andie was nearly propelled off the sidewalk by the sheer force of the wind. She blinked away the newly deposited flakes and stared ahead into the darkness with determination, not slowing down for a second. She could not afford to hesitate; the snow was getting heavier by the minute and it was essential that she...

(LB)

...make it to the pledge meeting. After all, with her late afternoon class, she was guaranteed to be late even if she hurried; with this kind of weather, she'd be lucky to make it before the meeting was over. For that matter, if this kept up, she'd be lucky to make it back to her room by dawn. She considered changing her course to head directly for home. If she got there before morning, she could catch a few minutes of sleep. She decided against that, though, when a sudden fit of coughing racked her body. She had finally figured out the secret: the only way to get rid of this cold would be to pass it on to someone else! Of course, that was really only a minor discovery; during her long weeks of winter-break contemplation, Andie had also discovered The Secret...

(RC)

...if only she could remember just what that secret was. The amnesia from the blunt head trauma had totally erased it from her memory. She was quite lucky that she could remember that she had a pledge meeting and where it was, let alone her name, address, and social security number. The thought that kept crossing her mind was just who would have wanted to make her forget the secret. It can't have been that important...or was it? And who would have the audacity, capacity, and malevolence to allow such a thing to occur. She could only think of one person...

(LG)

...and to be perfectly honest, she was experiencing great difficulty remembering his name... or was it her name? Andie stopped walking, threw her head back and heaved a dejected sigh. As she stared up and the snowy sky, her heart began thudding in her chest, thudding so loudly that it drowned out all the noises surrounding her. Andie, you better keep moving, she told herself. Once again she began resolutely walking towards her pledge meeting. She had taken no more than five steps when a hand clamped down upon her shoulder, effectively preventing her from moving forward. Her eyes darted about wildly and she began to shake with fear. With a deep, menacing voice the person whispered...

(SO)

"Little girls shouldn't walk alone in the getting dark out."

Andie squeaked as she spun around and looked into the man's deep eyes. Her heart hammered loudly and she looked into his dark eyes. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she smacked Jared on the shoulder.

"You scared the shit out of me, what are you doing here?" She smiled trying to stay mad but couldn't help but be happy to see a friendly face, so few faces were familiar nowadays.

"I've been looking for you," he whispered.

(MT)

He grabbed her arm and proceeded to drag her toward the Student Union.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?" she squeaked.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," he growled.

He pulled her up the front stairs. While she tried to squirm out of his grip he pushed her into one of the revolving doors. She thought that she'd be able to push through the door without him and get away, but instead he used the door to trap her.

Round 2

"Come on, now," Jared said, his voice low but just loud enough for her to hear him through the glass. "We don't have to make a scene."

Andie saw Jared brace his arms on the sides of the door frame and realized that she would soon be trapped in her little wedge of the revolving door. She didn't understand why he was acting this way, yet she didn't have time to debate it. Frantic, she threw her weight against the side of the door opposite Jared. Fortune was on her side, as he had not yet braced his feet sufficiently. He let out a terrible wail of pain as the door turned just far enough to let Andie into the Union, crushing his hand.

Her heart pounding as loudly as her feet on the tile, Andie made a mad dash for nowhere, anywhere away from Jared. She swore she heard someone behind her, yet she saw no one except the janitor she'd nearly knocked down. Up the stairs and around the corner, she was sure someone was very close. In a panic she yanked open the first door she came to and ducked inside. Panting, she let the door close beside her and slumped back against the wall in the silent, pitch-dark ballroom. She believed she was safe for the moment, but...

(PJ)

...suddenly she heard a muffled sound coming from the back of the room. "Who...who's there?" she stammered nervously.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light and Andie shrieked in surprise. Before she quite knew what was happening, she was grabbed roughly from behind, and sterile-smelling gloved hand clamped down over her mouth.

"Why is this happening to me?"

Andie wondered to herself as she was dragged towards the opposite end of the room. "Why can't I remember? What did I get involved in that has led up to this?" The answers to these questions seemed to be Andie's only hope of figuring out what was happening to her, but they were as elusive as tiny grains of dust being swept away by the wind...

(LB)

...from the high-powered air circulation system in the Union. "So that's where all the dust in my dorm room comes from..." was Andie's second-to-last blurry thought as the chemicals on the janitor's glove knocked her out. But the arm holding her was too spindly to belong to any of the janitors she had seen in the Union before... The next thing she heard was a loud buzzing sound--her alarm clock waking her up? But, no... Andie looked around and realized that this room was distinctly not her dorm room. Instead...

(RC)

...it it didn't look like any room she had ever been to on campus. Of course, if she had the choice, she wouldn't spend much time in a room painted black anyway, under better circumstances. She couldn't turn her head much, but as her eyes dialed back into focus, she was able to discern flickering candlelight, and as conciousness slowly flowed back in, the buzzing became more distinct, like chanting in some gutteral language. She heard more distinct whispers near her.

"Are you sure she's the one, Jared?"

"I'm sure. And if she's not, then I went to a whole lot of trouble tryng to carry her here without being seen."

"You were the one who tried to catch her at the Union."

"Can I help it if she was walking away from the Newman Center?"

Andie's eyes shot open. The Newman Center?

"Oh, our little friend seems to be awake. Prepare the ritual."

(LG)

"Rimmphhhull?!" Andie attempted to shriek, but a sock jammed in her mouth effectively prevented her from doing so. She rolled her head from side to side, trying to find a method of escape. The gutteral chanting was coming closer. It was coming from behind her. She flung her head back and saw Jared and four other people. They were all garbed in solid black. The five gently lifted Andie up and carried her to an altar in in the center of a star, and placed her upon it.

Jared began chanting in a foreign language. The others followed suit. Then Jared withdrew a long, sharp dagger with a jewel encrusted handle. He placed the point directly over Andie's heart. He raised his arm. Andie screamed as she saw the dagger descending towards her...

(SO)

Time seemed to slow as the jeweled blade fell, each moment becoming an eternity in itself. The blade was a work of art; candle light dancing upon its sharp blade hypnotically. The ruby in the center of the handle cast off a glow the deep red of freshly spilled blood. As she stared at it, it seemed to sing to her. Its seductive voice calling to her softly...

Round 3

...she blinked in wonder at the descending silvery shaft. It embodied utter perfection, so beautiful and yet so lethal, just like... just like... Andie knew what it reminded her of, she was merely unable to think of it, as was frustratingly and terrifyingly the case with so many things lately. It occurred to her that now she would probably never recall those things. Immobilized by the haunting chant, she stared at the blade, listening to the voices but not the words. Her eyes traced upward from the tip to the handle, firmly grasped by a hand. The rest of the arm was covered, but she followed it to the shoulder and then to the face. She met Jared's eyes with a horrible flash of recognition; like lighting the flash existed for but a fraction of a second yet was blinding even in its infinitesimal duration.

"Jared!" Andie screamed, surprising herself with the sound of her own fractured voice, breaking her own trance.

The black-clad quintet was just as surprised and now thoroughly disrupted. The chanting had stopped abruptly, and Jared now stared at the dagger in his hands as though he had no idea what it was. The others looked equally confused.

"They're not supposed to talk or move," someone said dumbly.

"Should I get the duct tape?" a female voice asked, timidly and with great concern.

"How many times do I have to tell you," an older male voice replied with disgust, "duct tape is impure."

(PJ)

Andie gasped as she recognized the sound of the man's voice, and her mind raced feverishly to place it. Her brain seemed to scramble about of its own accord, and Andie was helplessly dragged along with it on its random path to a seemingly unattainable answer.

Her thoughts were broken as one of the darkly clad members began backing slowly away from the rest of the group. Andie caught a glimpse of a ring with some sort of emblem on it before the figure disappeared nearly completely into the shadows.

She now began to tremble, because she had seen that symbol before... and this time she remembered exactly where it was from.

(LB)

A class ring from her own high school--but the stone was the same deep blood-red as the stone on the silver dagger. The school's colors were silver and blue--Andie knew of only one person who would have chosen a color so different and yet so beautiful. Cole had always been a loner, one step above the crowd of "weird guys" in the cliques of Andie's high school, and only a few people had seen his solitude for what it was. Andie knew, though, that a not so long ago he had been a young man who was thoughtful, strikingly mature for his years, and heartbreakingly lonely. But now it looked as though things had changed...

(RC)

Or maybe they hadn't. With his preference for black clothing, and tendency to read ancient literature on mysticism, this didn't seem to be a far cry from what was going on now. Andie tore the sock from her mouth.

"Cole?" she yelled as he kept backing further away.

"It speaks," he whispered falling to his knees.

"It? What the Hell?" Andie stammered, trying to make sense of it all.

"Jared, it must be tied, find me the silk lengths."

"Yes, Master," Jared bowed away and routed about in a cabinet, also black.

"Master? Wha-? Cole, would you mind tell me what the hell is going on?"

Andie was starting to get extremely frustrated.

"Shhhhhh..." Cole traced a small star on his throat, like a gesture of warding. "It will be better if silence remains."

Andie decided to try and buy some time. "I will remain silent if you answer some questions."

One of the other black robes stated simply. "It will be all right if it knows some things."

"Very well," Cole resigned.

"Why are you doing this?" Andie asked.

"Why, to free them." Cole stated simply.

"Who is 'them'?" Andie asked.

Cole shrugged. "They are...

(LG)

"... the souls. Too long they have been trapped in torment."

Andie looked at him incredulously. "What souls?"

Cole looked at her with utter disdain. "As I was saying before it interrupted me, the souls have been trapped in torment for thousands of years." Cole's eyes glazed over and he began speaking animately. "Evil Set cast them into damnation, to be his lackeys for all eternity. They were undeserving, and in secret offered up prayers to the mother goddess Isis for deliverance. She could not free them, but she altered the curse. The chosen one must be sacrificed in a completely pure ritual in order to free the souls. That's why we couldn't use the duct tape."

"And I am the chosen one?" Andie turned big, wide, pleading eyes toward Cole's face.

"Yes, you are the embodiment of Isis' description. There is also documentation of a secret that the chosen one will know. You discovered the Secret just before break ended. Jared has sworn to it. You must tell us the Secret."

Andie closed her eyes. Her mind was racing. If I don't know the Secret, I can't be killed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Then her heart stopped with the terrifying realization. She remembered the Secret...

(SO)

...so pure and simple that she couldn't comprehend how she had forgotten it. So simple and basic yet the pinnacle of existance was hers. She rose unhindered and unafraid and stood upon the altar. She stooped down clutching the ceremonial dagger unil her knuckles turned white.

Slowly she held it above her watching the faces of the group. Looks of horror mixed with awe graced their contances. In her mind she heard the rythmic chanting of a long forgotten past and plunged the knife into her heart, no longer afraid because she knew the Secret: she would live forever.

[Authors note: this is what Leslie gets for sending me all this moments of decision. Hopefully Morgan's head doesn't explode when she gets this. And hopefully SOMEONE can do something with this!]

(MT)

As the blade of the dagger buried itself into her chest, Andie's body began to take on another form.

[Sorry, this is all I can handle after being left with Sarah's excerpt.]

Round 4

Jared, Cole, and the other three in black stood paralyzed, watching the figure upon the altar. A movement blurred the area of Andie's wound for a second, as though a ripple had passed through every atom in her chest.

Oblivious to this movement, Andie looked down in shock at her stained fingers, clutching the handle of the dagger now embedded within her. She had been entirely unprepared for the brightness and volume of blood that was now flowing from the wound. A pang of terror and doubt coursed through her: What if she'd been wrong?

Her left hand dropped from the dagger. She wobbled and closed her eyes, grimacing, as her free hand went to her forehead, inadvertently smearing scarlet across her ashen skin. She took a step backward to steady herself but her knees betrayed her. With a hollow moan she began to crumple, catching herself with one hand to prevent herself from falling on her chest. At the moment she collapsed the rest of the way onto her back, prostrate across the pentagram, another movement rippled across the wound, this time with a hint of a white glow within.

"It cannot be allowed to transubstantiate!" Cole cried. "So much was sacrificed to find this one--the effort cannot be given up now."

"No, Master, it cannot. And it will not." Jared strode up to the altar with determination, his black cloak billowing behind him in his haste, and knelt at Andie's head. After gazing at her for a moment, he lifted his face to the others. "It should have been by my hand, but it was by her own. Nevertheless, we must continue, before all is lost!"

(LV)

"Form the Sacred Circle!" Cole commanded, causing a brief confusion as the hooded followers stumbled to their places.

"Hurry, you amateurs! Dammit, Jared, this is the last time I let you pick the compliments for our rituals. I thought you said these Newman people were true proficients in our art!"

"All apologies, master," Jared stammered, "but they practice every night. How could I know that they are so incompetent that even Satan forsakes them? Please accept my lack of judgement and focus your vigor on the ceremony. We need all the power we posses to call them forth."

"You are right, my devout servant. Everyone, sing your praises to Isis, NOW!"

The five surrounded the altar, fingers entwined and raised above their heads. Their bodies hummed with energy as they sang:

Blood and tears
Flow like the Nile
Giver of life
Keeper of sorrow.

Take our praise
To the King of Death
Send him this wish
Osiris lives yet.

Make him send
From the depths below
Innocent souls
Their faults are our own.

Sun takes strength
But moon keeps all strong
Mother Isis,
Let weakness be gone.

For the old
We give a life new.
In ways of past
The present comes through.

Silence greeted the end of the chant, but the power remained. The circle stood like an army of pillars, the only movement coming from Andie. She was twitching violently on the altar, blood still caressing the knife as it passed. From her eyes, tears skated back into her hair, but not a single shout or moan passed through her lips.

Cole broke the silence. "Jared, bring the silk lashings. It is time for the wrapping."

(PJ)

The sudden movement of people around her went unnoticed as the whispered words of the chant worked their way into Andie's mind like a soothing breeze. "Giver of life...Osisis lives yet...in ways of past, the present comes through..."

Suddenly, the fear and pain drained away as the words carried Andie to a deeper understanding of the secret that she had begun to doubt. ...Isis lives yet...

"And live I shall," she thought to herself, feeling her body rising off of the cold and blood stained altar. Andie looked down at the hilt of the now thoroughly crimson dagger that was still lodged within her sternum, and placed her hands around it. Jared, who had come forward with the wrappings, stopped dead at this sudden reversal of fates for their "chosen one," and was staring, mesmerized at the transformation he saw beginning to take place in front of him. As he met the ancient and sorrowful eyes of the figure hovering before him, Jared gingerly offered forward the wrappings to cover Andie's wound and she wrenched the embedded dagger from within. The heart rending scream echoed throughout the room, with resonations that sounded faintly like a forgotten song of mourning from an age long gone.

(LB)

Andie shuddered, fighting off her body's reactions to her pain and fear, as Jared knelt in front of her and gently wrapped her wound.

"It's healing already," he said, "since you are what you are, but these should make you feel much better."

Andie looked up to give him a grateful smile. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she looked over Jared's shoulder to see Cole standing behind him, a look of hatred on his face. "I always knew you were a weak one, Jared," he said, his voice dripping with barely controlled malice. "It seems I'll have to fight you for her, since you're obviously turning..."

Jared looked over his shoulder with pity in his eyes. "A few seconds ago I was still considering remaining with you. But if that's what you think of me, so be it... master." Jared was unable to keep the scorn out of his voice as he spoke that final word. He looked into Andie's eyes and solemnly brought her hand to his lips, then turned to face Cole.

(RC)

Andie, while rife with the power of the ceremony, still recognized reality well enough to know that Jared was in love not with her. His eyes screamed for the power that now coursed through her veins.

She watched the two black robes circle each other, and contemplated that power they were fighting for. She was the key to the release of a colossal power, and therefore she controled it. Logic dictated then that there must be someway for her to control it, without dying.

If the ritual was meant to kill her, then it must have required the total release of the energy inside her. Therefore, there must be a way for her to control that release.

Jared and Cole were both totally focused on each other, both having drawn knives, and the Newman regulars were now watching eagerly, waiting to see who the winner would be. No one was paying any attention to her. She had some time, and she had work to do.

There, a candle at one end of the room unlit. She concentrated, focusing all her will on bringing it toward her, not because she had any clue how any of this was going to work, but more because there was nothing but the deserate urge to try anything. She stifled a gasp as it slid towards her. Well, she thought, telekenisis. That's helpful.

Once again, her logical mind took over. If she could exercise that kind of power, other similar powers must also be in her control. But one other thing nagged at her. They had told her she was the embodiment of Isis. With this knowledge, she focused her mind inward, searching for something inside her to tell her what she wanted to know.

Her subconcious knew, and the realization exploded in her like a white hot ball of flame.

She wasn't just an embodiment of Isis. She was Isis made flesh.

And, she thought, it was time that she retake control.

The black robed men and women were far too concerned with the petty fight for leadership that they didn't notice her. However, a blinding flash of blue white light called their attention as they looked up to the source.

Hovering over the center of the pentagram, Andie was surrounded by a nimbus of energy. Her body seemed unconcerned with the unseen wind that tore around her, haloing her entire body in the same bluewhite light that had flashed. She was a creature of total power. She was a divine being, and the black robed people stared transfixed with awe.

Andie leveled her hands at each of the would-be leaders. Menacing balls of blue fire sprang to life in each palm. She whipsered three words that struck terror into the men as she met each of their terrified gazes with her own eyes of blue white energy.

"This ends now."

(LG)

"Andie dear, don't do this. You know I love you," Jared whispered as he gazed up at her with eyes full of greed and fear.

Andie threw back her head and laughed. "You don't love me. You love my power. I have read the book of your soul. You are a spineless, self-serving bastard." She levelled an icy glare at Jared. "This ends now."

The ball of blue fire in Andie's left hand flew toward Jared. It struck him squarely in the chest and he dissappeared in a cloud of vapor. Andie's blue white eyes then turned to Cole. To her amazement, he was morphing into a higher state of being. She blinked once, twice, and put her hand up as a sign of warning.

"Step no closer to me," she ordered Cole.

"How dare you order me about you little bitch," Cole said in a voice that would have made a lesser woman cry. "If you hadn't asked so many damn questions, wasted so much of my precious time, my metamorphosis would be complete."

With every word he spoke, Andie came to a greater realization of exactly who Cole was. While she was Isis made flesh, he was Set made flesh. The entire ritual had not been to free the souls, but rather to take her power for himself. And now that she had prevented it, she must prepare to fight the long prophesied war...

(SO)

"Set," she whispered, as if naming him would give her power over him.

He began to speak but his words were lost to her...

"Faster, faster," a child's voice called.

Cole grinned a vision of his triumph already painted in his minds eye.

"Through the tunnel, and out of the city don't forget," a voice whispered.

"Isis you can not win," he stated.

Andie looked at him and almost believed him.

Two children ran through a crowded marketplace weaving through the throng of people. "Thiefs thiefs!!" an angry man called waving a burly arm in the air threateningly.

"Hete, hurry up!" the young boy called glancing over his shoulder at the young girl.

"Astes, I can't run any faster, and I'm tired," Hete managed between gasps for air.

Astes scooped her onto his shoulders and continued their flight. "They can not catch us. Both Tatut and Kherib have disappered the last few days. They are taking children Hete, and who will miss us?"

"Stop those urchins!" the man's voice called closing in on them even closer.

"Gotcha!" firm hands pulled both children off of their feet. Hete looked up and saw that it was a temple guard holding them. A shudder of dread washed over him as he recalled whispered rumors.

"We'll take them to the temple," the guard told the street vendor. "They will be delt with there." With that he flipped the guard a coin and drug the children through the crowd.

The temple loomed before them and Hete gazed upon its large stone walls with trepidation. The statues of the gods stared down upon her unsympathetically. The door to the temple opened and the guard took them in...

(MT)

It took the children's eyes a few minutes to become accustomed to the darkness within the temple. Somewhere within the great hall they had entered there was chanting in an indiscernable language. Astes and Hete were dragged across the limestone floor of the hall to the foot of a great golden altar. A tall bald man in a black robe glided up to them.

"We found these children in the marketplace. Are they suitable?" the guard asked.

"The boy will not do, but the girl looks as if she has some promise. Put the boy with the others and leave her to me," ordered the ominous figure.

"No! Don't take him away!" squealed Hete.

SMACK!

Hete promptly crumpled to the floor as the bald man slapped her across the cheek. As the stars cleared from her vision, she saw Astes being drug down a small corridor behind the magnificent altar. Her gaze returned to the source of the handprint that was glowing scarlet on her cheek. His black eyes were burning into her as she struggled to her feet.

"Insolence will get you nowhere. If you are to survive what I have planned for you little one, you must learn to obey. Once you have achieved this, you will find true power."

Round 5

Hete locked eyes with the bald man and didn't look away. For a long moment she just stared into him, her rage burning and pulsing with the mark across her cheek. Her instinct was to lash out at the man with everything her small body had, but she was held motionless by the knowledge that such an action would be futile and would only invite the man to strike her again. She'd learned quickly on the streets when to fight and when aggression would just get her killed. The only thing betraying her submissive posture now was her eyes.

"You are brave for your size, and wise for your age," the man remarked.

This was unexpected enough to displace some of Hete's rage with confusion and questions. Before she could think of a suitably insolent response that wouldn't automatically get her smacked again, her attention was caught by a figure entering the room at the far end of the great hall. He was dressed as a house servant, and his bare, dusty feet pattered softly across the marble floor.

The bald man heard him and turned to look.

"I am sorry to interrupt, sir, but the meal is ready," the serving boy said quietly.

"Thank you, I shall be there in a moment."

The servant nodded once and softly padded across the expansive room to throw open a set of double doors leading into a smaller but still expansive room and disappear within it.

"You can't make me do this, whatever it is you're going to make me do," Hete declared forcefully when the bald man turned his attention back to her.

"Yes I can," he replied. "But you do have a choice. You can stay with me and do as I tell you, learn what I teach you, or you can go where all of the other missing children have gone."

Hete's haughtiness subsided as she considered her situation.

"Come eat a dinner with me, and by the time you're full, I know you will have made the right decision."

Hete drew back, afraid to say no but none too eager to say yes to anything he suggested. She cast anxious glances around the room; there was no one else around. It was all so empty and numbing. Even the stinging in her cheek had almost completely faded. Then she noticed the wonderful aromas of exquisite foods which were drifing in through the open doors.

"Are you coming?"

She knew she could not run. Her skin burned with the feeling that 1000 eyes were focused on it. Every inch of the temple wall was covered with paintings of worshippers practicing the Old Ways, but it was something more than that. "We are watching, we are strong, we will protect you because we are yoursŠ" the air hissed in her ears. Hete did not know if she could trust these words, but the man was right; she was not in control of her destiny at this moment. Hete had no choice but to step forward in obedience but collapsed to her knees as soon as her foot lifted from the floor. The voices were shouting in her skull, ready to split it in half. "Unsafe! Unsafe! The tunnel awaits belowŠ"

The floor shuddered beneath Hete's knees. The roaring of her own blood was almost deafening in her ears. Suddenly, the floor fell away around her--before and behind, leaving nowhere for Hete to run. The bald man had fallen in the pit in front of her... "The tunnel awaits below...." "Through the tunnel and out of the city, remember...." Were they words that had been spoken to her, or just a mad dream? Before Hete had time to decide, the floor began to shudder again. She could not stop herself from collapsing, but instinct leaned her backward, away from the pit where the bald man had fallen...

...too far backward, Hete realized, as she started to tumble down the same pit. She started to scream, but realized that there was no need, this side of the pit was evidentally closer than she thought and she had landed against it, feeling it slope, not gently but enough to slow her descent and give her a feeling of control over her fall. She slid to the bottom, pausing to catch her breath and get her bearings.

She had landed on a stone floor, a pillar rising in the middle, where she had obviously been standing, she caught a glimpse of the bald man's arm outstretched on the floor, lifeless and unmoving, in the light filtering from above. But wait, she thought, not all of the light is coming from above. She looked to the other sides of the room.

There were three doors. All three openeed into long tunnels. The one on her right was surrounded by a stylized image of the desert and a man with long red hair standing at its edge, calling the winds and sands across a river and into a city. The second, opposite her position, was surrounded by carvings of city buildings and people, seeming to angle upward and towards the light. The third, to her left, was over arched by a benevolent looking woman, whose arms were wings. Hete felt that the door opposite her was the way out, however she felt powerfully drawn to the door guarded by the winged woman. The benevolent face seemed to pull her in that direction, and feeling no harm, she proceeded into that door. Truly, why shouldn't she have a short look around? And she proceeded down the tunnel....

... carefully, stealthily Hete crept along the tunnel. As she inched farther into the darkness, she could once again hear voices around her. One voice grew louder than the rest, and she soon she heard nothing but the beautiful, crystal clear voice. The tunnel rounded a bend, and Hete saw a blue nimbus of light surrounding the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Instantly Hete fell to her knees and bowed her head in respect to the woman.

"Hete," the woman said in the same lovely voice Hete had heard in the tunnel.

"Yes, Mother?" Mother? Hete had never seen this woman before in her life, yet she knew, in the depths of her small mind, that this woman held the key to her destiny. She looked up as the woman walked closer to her.

"Darling daughter, please forgive what I must do." The woman, whom Hete now recognized as the sky goddess Nut, took another step closer and plunged a long dagger in to Hete's chest.

* * * * * *


Ages away in time, Andie watched the scene play out before her. As the dagger pierced Hete's skin, Andie let out a shriek for she felt as though Nut had stabbed her as well. Tears coursed down Andie's face and she knew that this whole experience had taken place before.

Her mind reeled as she once more faced her present circumstances. She looked at Cole and realized that this was not the appointed time. She pulled her mind from the veil of the past and brought herself to her present dilemma. The smell of incense and the fervent chanting of the cult were almost intoxicating. She needed peace and freedom but most of all she needed time.

"Another time, Cole," she whispered her promise.

"Really Andie be reasonable, where are you going to go? And how will you leave here? There's only one door and the only way through it is through me."

With a nonchalant shrug Andie walked toward the wall furthest from him and walked though it with only a small tingling sensation.

"Apparently being a devine reincarnation does have its perks" she thought smugly.

She needed distance she decided and time to make sense of what was happening. She kept back the visions of past that struggled to monopolize her attention. Soon she was opening her dorm room door. "Gawd," the voice of her roommate greeted her. "You look like hell."

A quick glance in the mirror showed that hell was a generous apraisal. Her clothing was soaked with blood, bruises decorated her arms, her hair went in every direction, and her eyes seemed unfocused. "Its been a long day," she murmured hoping to somehow brush the whole thing off.

"Do I need to call the police?"

"No Jenna," Andie struggled to maintain her patience. "Let me take care of it."

Jenna smiled and went back to her book most likely glad to not be responsible for the situation anymore. Andie had never gotten along well with the girl.

She threw on a change of clothes and quickly packed a small bag. Other supplies would have to be found elsewhere.

"Look I'm going to be gone for a while. So don't worry if you don't see me for a while."

"Where ya goin?" Jenna drawled.

"I don't know, away."

But Andie did know, she yearned for the ocean and that is where she would head.

As she walked out of the dorm, she drew in a deep breath of cool air. There had to be someone who could help her figure out what was going on. She remembered the bald man from her flashback. As foreboding as he seemed, he was trying to help her learn something.

"If there was someone to teach me then, there must be someone now. I just have to find them."

She began walking into the cold night, following the direction her intuition pulled her in.

With each step Andie felt even more that she was being consumed from the inside by a growing, inexplicable yearning for a moonlit expanse of coastline, for damp sand between her toes, for the sea breeze whipping her hair around. Although she had never traveled beyond the Midwest, she could see this particular stretch of distant coast in her mind and feel it as though she'd spent a lifetime there. She knew she had to return, but two things stopped her. First, being in Nebraska, she was thousands of miles from an ocean. Second, she was still uncertain as to where this coastline was. Atlantic, Pacific, Indian--she just didn't know. The image was still coming into focus in her mind, and she knew that if she waited patiently it would come to her.

In the meantime, she continued to stroll without aim or concern. This black, blustery winter night should have chilled her to the bone, yet Andie walked on. She was so trusting that what she needed would come to her--and also so engrossed in her own developing vision--that she was utterly oblivious to what she was actually doing. She could have walked mindlessly out into oncoming traffic or into the side of a building, but she did not. Her trust was well placed, at least in this case, because she was safely guided along a path to which she paid no attention.

There is no way to tell how long it took before she was forced to focus her attention on the here and now once again, snapped ever so rudely out of her hauntingly beautiful reverie by...

...a firm hand placed on her shoulder. Andie spun around to see a young man behind her. His light eyes stared intensely at her face as he nervously ran his hand through a head of wavy, dark hair.

He was the first to speak. "Finally, you have come to me. HE said I couldn't look for you... that you weren't ready. But now here you are, just where HE said you would be..."

Andie looked around. She wasn't sure where she was, but she could tell that she had been walking in the countryside for some time. She was confused, but not afraid. It was hard to focus on what the stranger was saying to her.

"...here in Crete, Nebraska. You couldn't possibly understand how ironic this is. I am from the real Crete... the first Crete. I think you would like to see it. I know you would, and that makes me happy because I must take you there." Now Andie was paying attention. Crete. The Mediterranean. The antiquity of it all. Was it what she longed for? Maybe...

"Ahhh, I sense your pleasure, and your questions. Some have answers, but now we must go. HE says it is time for the Gathering. You are the last to join."

Now she spoke, "The Gathering of what?"

"Of US. Of all of the gods of the world that have been forgotten by the people."

"Then you are..."

"You would probably know me best as Hermes, the messenger. I am so grateful to finally meet you," he said, reaching for Andie's hand.

Instictively, Andie drew back in hesitation, but looking into the man's eyes, her fears melted away, and she took his hand, which was surprisingly warm despite the biting wind that tore around them.

"Good. Yes. Now balance shall return to nature, and you may begin to understand the true significance of your existence."

"But wait," Andie cried, pulling back again. "What about Cole? We can't just leave him to reek havoc on the world...and if I am the last one, where does he fit into all of this?"

Hermes blinked at her. "Cole? Who is this 'Cole' that you speak of?"

Was it possible that the other gods were unaware? They knew of her existence, but not that of Set... how had this happened? Andie's spine tingled as a sense of imminent peril coursed through her veins...

"Come," Hermes urged her, tugging at her hand. The tingling up and down Andie's spine grew stronger as they stepped forward. "Take a deep breath," he warned. "This will be--well, a bit strange."

There was a dark, dizzying instant when Andie wasn't quite sure which way was up, then a sudden shock of cold as she realized she ws standing in salt water up to her waist. She stood still and blinked several times, trying to clear her head and reorient herself.

"Welcome," said Hermes. He drew her forward again, and they stepped out of the waves...

"Where are we?" Andie asked, scanning the white sand beach that was now in front of her. It sloped up to meet a circular promenade of marble steps. The steps lead to a large white circular building, gilt and marble and carving, surrounded by row upon row of large white columns. The building seemed to have fallen into a state of disrepair, the gilt dull, the marble yellow and pitted, the carvings broken and un cleaned.

"Where we are will become apparent enough," Hermes stated plainly. "We all recognized it after some time."

Andie blinked at him. "All?"

But they had already begun to enter.

As they stepped into the darkened building, it took a few moments for Andie's eyes to adjust. She blinked a few times, then gasped as everything became clear to her. Standing around her, welcoming her, were all the great deities of times long forgotten. A path cleared, and a trio of males walked towards her. As they neared her, the one in the middle spoke.

"Ah, Isis, long have we awaited your return. At last the plan can come to fruition." Andie looked up at him, and as they locked eyes, she recognized him as Zeus. She looked around and saw that the rest of the deities were bowing towards the three gods standing around her. She briefly wondered if she should to the same. Immediately, her mind rebelled against the very idea. Screw that, she thought, I bow to no one. Then Zeus continued, "Please follow me. We have much to discuss." He turned and walked through the crowd and down a hallway. His sidekicks waited for Andie, then they followed as well.

Once in the room Zeus sat down at large white marble table, he gestured to Andie and she took the seat to his right. The other two men sat to his left. "Isis, this is Jupiter and Osiris." Andie looked sharply up and at the one Zeus had termed Osiris. THAT was her former husband made flesh, you would have thought that they could have found someone taller. For Pete's sake, he was a midget.

Jupiter's voice snapped Andie out of her daydream. "ISIS!! We have been sensing a disturbing development in North America. For some time now, we have had reason to believe that Set has once again taken on human form."

Osiris looked at her, "Can you tell us anything about this?"

Andie looked at him in utter disbelief. Was he serious? As she recalled, Osiris could never seen the evil in anyone. She had no intention of telling these three idiots anything, at least not until she could take care of the problem herself. Now how did one lie to a divinity?

Apparently lying to divinity was no different than lying to anyone else, because the falsehood slid off her tounge. She smiled demurely at the three gods and they smiled back.

Jupiter looked vaugely relieved but beneath the calm exterior tides of suspicion struggled to break free. "You wouldn't be keeping anything from us so you can take revenge on your own, would you Isis?"

"Why would you ask that.." Andie faltered.

"You remember what trouble that caused last time. Not to mention the whole Atlantis incident. Really Isis you need to learn from your past."

Andie stared at the man in disbelief, "How can I learn from a past that I can't remember!" she hissed.

"Ashes, ashes, we all fall down," a young girl's voice called as the men before her began to fluctuate in focus. [can one say that???]

"Ashes, ashes, we all fall down."

Three young girls spun in the street. Eva watched them from the doorway of the bakery. The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafterd through the doorway. She took one fleeting look at the convent and smiled. It was a sweet day, a day of freedom. Of course this would mean that she would have to find some way to survive, but it was like her mother always said, "Eva Braun, it's just a waste of time to look at the negative things." And now she must find Set, and he would be destroyed. If nothing else the convent had given her clarity of vision. While the nun's had seen her as a lovely, if not somewhat dull young woman, she had plotted and plotted. Set had wronged her enough times--this time she would have her revenge, this time she would find someone in power that would enable her to do so.

Eva smiled a slow steady smile--this life would be productive. And this time no one would suspect a thing.

She picked up a newspaper from the stand outside the bakery to look at the picture of the man she had in mind. His dark slicked down hair, greasy little moustache and beady black eyes sent a chill down her spine.

"Not quite my type, but if I am to have my revenge, he will have to do."

"Eva this isn't a library, my dear. If you want to read the newspaper, you're going to have to pay for it," the vendor snapped her back into reality.

"Oh, I wasn't reading it sir. I was just looking at this picture of Adolf Hitler and Joseph Mengele."

"Ach, such horrible men! The world will be a better place when they are gone!"

With this, Eva walked off with a cryptic smirk on her face.

"Oh, they will get what is coming to them. You just wait and see."

Later that day, as evening plummeted into night, a crowd of hundreds or perhaps thousands assembled in the city square in a most disorganized manner. Tight masses of people formed at random points, to ring a fire fed by books or to strain to hear someone's news and opinions--two conversational staples which of late had rarely failed to be the same thing. Hearing was made more difficult by the general din of the crowd as well as by the familiarly nondescript voice on a loudspeaker which droned over everything. "Wir möchten kurze rote Badehosen zum Geburtstag. Auch möchten wir einen neuen Fahrrad und viele Süßigkeiten..."¹ No one paid much attention; they'd heard it all before. However, with patience, they would get to hear something new tonight.

The flickering firelight danced eerily on the faces in the crowd as Eva picked her way through. The atmosphere was highly volatile, and the anticipatory fervor was contagious. Eva herself began to feel undeniably from the innermost parts of her that anything could happen at any moment--and if she had any say in the matter, it soon would.

Suddenly a new voice was being broadcast. A hush fell over the crowd instantly as everyone turned toward the balcony where the new speaker stood. "Heute bin ich furchtbar traurig," he was saying, "weil niemand mir eine kleine graue Katze mit blaue Augen zum Geburtstag hat gegeben!"²

"Keine kleine Katze!"³ the singular voice of the crowd roared in reply, simultaneously woeful, angry, and impassioned.

The mob listened intently to the Fuhrer as he continued, but Eva was not so caught up in the excitement that she forgot her own purposes. Her attention was quickly diverted away from Hitler, for she had caught a glimpse of the man who she now had the ability to recognize, regardless of the time or place, as Set.