Kenny sighed deeply, enjoying the flight of his precious Marixet. He watched her in his mind's eye, fleeing from his brethren. Rebecca lay still at his side, his hand on her shoulder.

"Can you see it my dear?" he asked her. "You gave in so willingly, and now we will turn this world inside out and bring my glory to the outer-world. All the murders, all the work we accomplished together will not be for nothing..." He smiled wickedly. "I am whole, Killjoy! I've melded with my brother half, and you have given me such a wonderous gift. He is powerful, dark and beautiful!" Rebecca didn't reply, her eyes were closed and her breathing ragged.

You need to work faster! The voice inside his mind urged him, dancing throughout his conciousness. Work at the threads, free me! I've been trapped inside this ether for too long. Unleash me!

Kenny's body convulsed. He moaned deeply, with pain and ectasy. Free me! The voice bellowed from the darkest reaches of his mind. Free me and I will bring us power untold!

Rebecca exhaled in a hissing sigh, her body slumping. Kenny tightened his hold on her shoulder. "Give me your power Queen!" His eyes flared red in the shadows of the apartment. "Give me everything!"



The misty confinds of Rebecca's world were reaching a breaking point, and Marixet knew this. She made her way through the empty streets and dark buildings with sure steps. Kenneth was terribly strong, his power was evident in the air and the sounds throughout the city. The makebelieve of the ether realm was no longer necessary. All the work that her squadrion had accomplish was gone, the balance destroyed, and the threads unwraveling everywhere.

"Josie?" Marixet reached over and pressed a brick on the side of a building. "Josie, I know you can hear me. I need you to listen carefully. The power inside here is tremendous. I won't be able to save Rebecca unless you bring everyone inside. Do you understand?"

There was a long span of silence, broken only by the heavy feeling of the air. "Marixet, this is Josie. I've relayed you message to the rest of the team. It's imperitive that you are absolutely sure that we have to do this. Is there any other way?"

"No, I'm afraid not. The energy in the air is evidence enough, you will understand when you enter. I know where I have to go, but I'm not going to be able to get there unless we have more people. The apartment complex is bound to be surrounded by...." Marixet stopped suddenly, noticing a change in her surroundings. The buildings were starting to pulse, slowly, but without a doubt. "Josie, you must be quick!"

"What's going on?"

"Quickly Jocephean! Kenneth knows I'm here!" Marixet left the side of the building and started to run. Behind her thousands of dark shadows followed.



Jocephean turned from the monitor. "Dee, Marixet is in danger. You stay behind to watch Rebecca for signs of trauma."

"I don't think that any squad has ever assembled to battle inside the ether. Josie, I'm terrified. This is..." she trailed off.

"It's definitely historical." Josie tried to smile. "We've managed to do this to ourselves, I'm afraid. If we hadn't been so sure that Kenny would be okay in the ether for so long, none of this would have occured."

"I will keep my eyes on Rebecca. You better go."

Josie placed her hands on Deanna's shoulders. "You've been a great friend, Dee. Bring us back when this is over." Dee nodded and watched Josie leave. "I love you Jocephean Childs," she whispered. "Please don't die." Then she exited the opposite way.

Marixet sat alone in the darkness, footfalls thudding outside. She sensed the other members and staff of her squadrion going about their business, but she could not detect the one person who she desperatly wanted to know was close by. Kenneth. His name was an anthem and a curse to her. His love was both liberating and terrible. She knew that he had deep desires for the Queen, and that thought troubled her. She turned to a monitor next to her chair.

"This is Sargt Marixet. I require all the mission briefings for today sent to my room." She waited for the officer on the other end of the line to respond. Once he had, she shut off the screen and turned her seat away from the screen. Kenneth. Again the word teased the edges of her mind. He was in grave danger. This much she knew for sure. The ether-realms were unpredictable, unstable and often times they were pyscologically altering. Even the most advanced of the MBteams came back from missions slightly altered. It was only practical to assume that Kenneth would return in an even more severe state.

There was a knock on the door. She got up and moved quickly to answer it. A plainly dressed solider handed the files she'd requested and saluted. She returned the gesture and shut the door. Moving back to her chair, she glanced over the files. Most of them were routine, field studies, stabilzation manifests, localizations and theories. She flipped deeper into the pile and her eyes ran across something that made her stop suddenly.

"Josie?" she said out loud. "What is Josie doing contacting Kenneth outside the normal schedule?" She flipped further and read. Kill her! Too much power! I can't do that! She read on, and something occured to her. She dropped the files and went back to the monitor. "Josephean, I need to see you immediately!"

"Marixet, it's almost midnight!" Josie's voice was tired and groggy.

"This is an order! I think that we are tredding on more then just shaky ground here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Marixet out."

The monitor went blank and she quickly gathered up the files and set them on her desk. Oh Kenneth! Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she sniffed roughly and blinked them back. What have you done? You have been in there too long. She brushed her hand over the wall and light flodded the room. Grant me strength, she whispered to herself. We are going to war!

There was a knock on her door, and she moved swiftly to let Josie in.

"So what is this about, if I may be so bold?"

Marixet grabbed one file from the top of the stack and handed it, wordlessly, to Josephean. Once Josie had read through it, Marixet made a gesture with her hand. Josie backed away. "Sergent! What are you doing! You can't open a rip inside an enclosed space."

Marixet shut her eyes. "Jocephean, we are going to war. Kenneth isn't trying to protect Rebecca for us....he's doing it for himself!" She took a step towards the rip in the wall of space. "You fail to see the great picture. Kenneth is moving Rebecca into a state of subservience. If he accomplishes what he intends to do, he will harnass all the Queen's energy and...." She trailed off.

Josie's eyes widened. "Are you serious!?"

Marixet moved within a few steps of the hole. "I'm going in to stop him! I need you to witness this and report on what happens. If I don't return, then it's up to you and the rest of the team to pull the plug."

"Wait!" Josie reached out for Marixet, but the other moved out of her grasp and into the rip. There was a howl of wind, throwing Josie back against the wall, and the rip closed.

"What is she doing? It's suicided!" Josie got up and went to the monitor across the room. "Deanna, this is Josie! Rally the troops, rally the guards....contact the Sub-divison. We've had a breach.....I repeat....We've had a breach!"

A sudden shudder, caused the room to move violently. Josie screamed out. Oh dear lord! ......

Deanna walked next to Madame Fields, thier movements slow and thoughtful. For a moment, Deanna paused and looked around. They were strolling along a well traveled path through a large grove of cottonwood trees. Above them the tree limbs swayed happily, dappling the sunlight across their heads and shoulders.

"Do you think that she will jump through the barrier?" Deanna asked the old woman. Madame Fields stopped, and turned to her. The look on her face was a mixture of concern and deep regard. "I have faith in her, Dee child. A make-believe world such as hers will not stand up to the ripping talons of a creature such as he."

Deanna bent down and plucked a wildflower, twirling it around in her hands. "Frankly I'm surprsied the fabric hasn't ripped on its own yet. We've popped in and out of it way too many times for our own good."

Madame Fields smiled. "Very true, very true. You would think that the fabric would at least fray around the edges, but Rebecca has built her prison incredibly strong. I only hope that he will be able to tear open a hole large enough for her to pass through."

"I honestly don't know if my presence there did more good then harm. Do you think it was a wise idea to manifest her ability like that?"

"Talk to Josie," the old woman answered. "I can't let you in on everything." She noticed something in Deanna's eyes, and reached out to pat her arm. "I realize that you enlisted in this unit only a month ago, but you will soon find out that the Mindbenders are a stubborn race of humans." She motioned to the path. "Shall we continue to walk? I don't think that Marixet will allow us more then a few hours off. You know that she is working with Josie on this project?"

Deanna shook her head. "I didn't know that! Why would someone as renowned as Sargt Marixet pick this section to reside?"

Madame Fields winked, the act oddly comical. "Rebecca isn't just any Mindbender, Dee child. She's the queen of the entire hive. If she passes though the barrier, it will be a great accomplishment to our section. That, my dear, is why we've made so many trips into the ether-realm and back."

They began to walk and for a while no one said anything. Then Deanna spoke. "Do you honestly think that Rebecca will voulentarily pass through. I mean, we've been altering her mindset for the last two weeks and she just seems to be slipping deeper into her prison?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry too much, Dee child." Madame Fields pointed to the end of the path a few yard off. "We are almost to the perimeter. Would you like to do the honors?"

Deanna smiled and nodded. She lifted her hand and made a quick gesture. In front of them a hole opened, tearing the scenery like a knife through cloth. "Do you think that Kenny will withstand the prolonged stay in the vortex?" she asked.

"So many questions, Dee child." The old woman waved her hand. "I can't answer that. No one has ever passed into the ether-realms and remained there as long as he has. We will just have to wait and see. Now, shall we?" She extended her hand. Deanna quickly moved passed her and walked into the hole.

Madame Fields watched her partner vanish into the vortex, and shook her head. "Children," she spoke to herself, then she followed and vanished as well.

"Dee!" Rebecca's face did not exhibit her concern, it did not betray the fact she was unsure what her next words would be. Her friend looked expectantly at her, her eyes a mixture of golden delight and brown serenity, puddling together into a hazel confusion.

"Dee, I need to know who?"

"Who?" her friend asked, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Killjoy, I do not know who you are referring to."

Rebecca sighed, her chest rising and falling slowly. She looked into the distance, as if by doing so, she would eliminate any further conversation, and know instictively who he was. Fog and seagulls danced in the distance, nothing more. Again Rebecca sighed. "Dee, I need to know who killed you."

There was a sudden feeling of being pulled, and the scenery around her melted into a speedy blur of colors. Moments later the mixed-up pallete of colors fell into darkness.

You already know who.

Dee's voice was disembodied, serious and terribly chilling. Killjoy's friend sounded as if she were nearby, but her voice drifted and echoed, causing Rebecca to wonder if Dee was even in the same room. If this was even a room? Rebecca tried to move forward, unsure exactly how the magic worked.

Tap, tap tap. Footsteps! Somewhere to her left. Tap Tap Tap. High heels. Someone was coming.

Rebecca reached out blindly. Perhaps there might be a light switch, she thought. Click. The morgue materialized in front of her.

She was facing the doorway, and she could see a shadowy form of someone outside. The slightly translucent glass marred any attempt to distigush the figure. Rebecca reached for the handle. Click. She was standing back on the beach, facing Deanna.

"So, you want to know who it is?" the other asked her.

"I need to know, Dee. I am afraid more people who I care for will die if I don't catch him."

"And you're sure he is who you want to catch?"

Rebecca shook her head. "What are you talking about? Of course he is, Dee!" She folded her arms across her chest. "What are you geting at?"

Deanna looked lost for a moment in thought. Then she pointed to the waters a few feet from their spot. "You see the ocean?" She asked.

"Yes, but..."

"The ocean is full of so many lifeforms, just like the world on land. All those lifeforms feed off of one another, live off the sacrifice of the weak. It's an evolutionary cycle, one that goes on without us even noticing."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Dee, I don't have time to take a lesson in oceanary whatevers from you."

Deanna raised her hand. "To see the bigger picture, you have to understand the reason it exists." She motioned, and they were no longer standing on the beach, but standing on the surface of the ocean. Rebecca jerked wildly, caught competely off guard. "This is not your relaity, Killjoy," Dee told her. "It is a facsimile. We are standing on the water to illustrate my point. Look." She pointed to a shark several feet to their right. "That shark is hunting, looking for food to satisfy his hunger. Look." She indicated a school of smaller fish, swimming a couple of feet below them. "Those fish are already destine to die." Suddenly the shark sped forward and attacked the school of fish, several being swallowed into his mouth. Deanna motioned again, and they were back on the beach. "It's what happens," she said.

Rebecca put up her hands in confusion. "Dee, I honestly don't know what you are trying to say. I need to know who killed you."

Deanna smiled, the expression calm and nonpulsed. "I told you I don't know who he is. How can I help you idenitfy him, when I didn't even see his face." She reached out and took hold of Rebecca's hands with her own. "I'm trying to tell you that I was not killed accidentally. I was murdered as part of the cycle that exisist in our world. The man who killed me wears many faces, in fact, you could go as far as saying he is not really of any particular gender. He is a locust, a demon-spawn. He feeds like the shark, and just like the shark, he has his place in our world."

Rebecca yanked her hands away from her friend's. "What are you saying, Dee! What he is doing is a crime! It is Murder, Dee. Murder! That is never acceptable. I don't care what you are trying to explain to me."

Deanna's face remained calm. "It's as it should be, Killjoy. Your reality is flawed. What if you are the preditor and he is the prey?"

Rebecca shook her head again. "This is ridiculous! You are my friend, Dee. At least you were my friend. I don't know what to make of this now." She looked about, trying to figure out how to break the spell and return to the morgue.

"Becca. Becca? Killjoy!" It was Kenny's voice. She turned to look at Dee, but the image of her friend was already fading, along with the image of the water and beach....and the taste of the salty air.

We are part of the cycle, she heard. Then she opened her eyes and looked up at her partner.

"You have to stop doing that," he said, relief in his voice. "I don't want to lose you too."

Rebecca looked around. She was back in the morgue, but oddly enough, there wasn't a sign of Deanna's corspe anywhere. "Where did they take Dee?" she asked.

Kenny looked confused. "What are you talking about, Killjoy," he said. "Who is Dee?"




Don't take the fun out of it. The voices were laughing in his head. Twirling and dancing like some intranced snake, he lifted his knife. Fun! What door would this one open, he wondered. He brought the knife down, stopping inches away from the back of his victim. She screamed out, the sound terrified and angry. What fun! Make her suffer! The voices squeeled with delight. Suffer, he repeated and cut through her blouse with his blade. She screamed again and he laughed. His voice teetered on the brink of insanity, although the thought delighted him even more. Insanity is the blanket I drap around myself. How can I not be caught up in its folds already? I suckle at the breast of insanity....I've toppled over its brink before.

"Please stop!" Deanna pleaded. He did not hear her. The thunderous sound of the voices in his mind were drowning her out.

She is a burden. He agreed with the voices. She is a burden. He brought the knife down again, slashing at her back. She struggled, but her hands were tied behind her back. "Don't please!"

"Don't please," he mocked her. "I will do as I wish!" He slashed her again, and the sight of her blood spilling down her back caused him to smile gleefully. Then his expression turned into concern. "You're bleeding!" He bent down and tried to stop the blood with the sleeve of his jacket, but the wounds were terribly deep. Already his victim was growing tired.

Don't take the fun out of it! The voices took control again, and he lifted the sharp blade. His victim could not see his face, and she did not see the knife as it plunged into her back again. Her face, however, looked tortured and helpless. Her eyes stared out into the shadows of the morgue, without seeing anything clearly.

He made sure to insert the knife blade inbetween her ribs, but he didn't puncture her lung. He had performed this dance too many times to make any mistakes. She was still alive. And she was in pain. He smiled again, watching her slump over and then fall onto the floor. He reached down and grabged her hair, yanking her up into a sitting position. "You're weak bitch!" he hissed in her ear. He felt her tense, and suddenly she kicked out at him, causing him to drop her to the floor again.

She is a burden! The voices were angry with him. They did not like it when his victims lashed out. Do it! They screamed at him, rattling his mind. He screamed back. He screamed again, and again, grabbing his head and shaking. "I will, stop it!" He felt a rushing inside him, like energy ripping through his veins. He let insanity take him then, let it wrap itself around him, fully and completely. He dropped the knife and attack his victim, tearing he apart with his bare hands. She screamed at him, trying to bite him, but he hit her and hit her, until she stopped moving.

Perfect! The voices were pleased. He felt himself breaking through the surface of his insanity, and took a deep breath. He looked down at the bloodied mess. "Do I have to clean this up?" he asked, as if he were a child asking a parent's permission. No one replied.

There was pounding at the door to the morgue, and he quickly receeded into the darkness. Someone was yelling, another woman. It's not her, he thought. She will come though....the thought made him shudder with pleasure.

The sillouette of a figure bursted through the locked door. He moved deeper into the blackness and watched.

"Jezus!" a woman's voice said. "It's Dee!" The woman turned to another person entering the room. "Quickly, get on the horn and call this one in!"

"Yes Chief!"

Gathering his darkness and insanity around himself, he watched for a moment more, then drifted out of the room.

Josie did not see him leave, but she felt the chill of his passing. She looked down at Deanna. Shaking her head, she murmmered. "I did not sell my soul for this!" And with that she too melted away....

He watched her breath deeply, as if her mind was struggling with a bad dream. He feelt a farmillar yerning in his loins, sad and confused, dispassionate and forlorn. He understood that he was falling steadily into a deep pit of churning darkness, but he did not want to be rescued. His soul welcomed the malevolent embrace within, although some piece of him that was still human struggled against it. His inner turmoil did not register on the hard lines chisled into his features. Those lines were unbending iron, and he let very little erode what many years of torture had erected. Even with the understanding that she was his salvation, he did not breath or sigh relief. He stood a few feet from her hospital bed and watched her. She will take me with her, he murmurred. She will fall upon my blade and I will be free.

His hand moved towards the night stand, hovering inches above the false leather cover of a Gideon Bible that laid there. He hesitated, realizing that the sacred text would burn him like fire, licking its dangerous flames over his skin. He drew his hand away. His eyes narrowed as he reached into himself to hear the voices. They instructed him....the voices did. They had orchestrated his every move, demonstrated his powers time and time again. They were the masters, and he was the student. Mangled and deformed were those that he sought to rescue with their assistence. She did not understand this, although her new ability would soon open the doors of insight. He needed to wait. He needed to listen closely to what the voices said. More, they instructed softly. More must come into the fold. He insticitively reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face. His movement was sincere and parental. He needed her, as a mother needed her child. Completion, he sighed, the sound barely audiable. She stirred.

He drew his hand quickly away. She must not see me, he warned himself. She must not wake and find me here. He stepped a few feet back from the bed, drawing the shadows of the room around him like a blanket. Her eyes remained closed, and tiny beads of perspiration glistened on her unlined forehead.

More! The voices insisted. He realized he had overstayed his visit, and turned to the door.

"Hello?" Rebecca shifted on the matress, looking into the darkness of her hospital room. "Is anyone there?"

He melted away, moving down the long hallway outside her room. Several doors lined the cooridor, and he glanced briefly at each one. More! The voices were screaming now, and his head hurt with their shrill cries. Yes I know, he called to no one.

He would have to return to his other self....that self he hated. It was necessary, the voices told him. You are two halfs, they reminded him. Two....he reminded himself.

He rounded the end of the hallway, and noticed the man leaving the elevator. The man looked preoccupied as he approched.

Drawing the darkness over his shoulders, he rushed forward. Two....they whispered. Then he colasped into his old skin.

Turning on his heels, Kenny swore under his breath. "Damn, I knew I forgot something! My jacket!" He moved down the long hallway. He paused a moment, a few feet from Rebecca's room, as strange chill passed over his body. As quickly as it had come, it vanished, and he continued on.

"Kenny!" Rebecca greeted him as he opened the door. "I'm so glad to see you! What happened?"

He sat down at the end of her bed, his face displaying a sad smile. "You did it again, I'm afraid."

"I fainted?"

"I'm afraid so, Killjoy." He patted her leg, concealed under the blanket. "You barged into the morgue and accosted one of the dead bodies in the freezer. You had Dee literally up in arms. She had no idea what to make of it. No one does, actually."

"Including you?" She tried to meet his smile, tried to understand his position, but failed. "It's difficult for me to...." She paused, noticing a shadow flitter across her partner's face. "Kenny, are you alright?"

He shook his head. "I'm tired, Killjoy....that's all...."

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "You sure?"

He did not answer. Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard a voice whisper....

Two.....



The car rumbled as it sped along the highway out of south central chicago. Rebecca sat in the passangers seat, silent and lost in the haze of her own thoughts. Kenny did not bother her, he could tell that her mind was full of questions that he did not have answers for. As the small sedan moved along the highway, Kenny stared out into the night sky. It was a clear night, devoid of stars and devoid of any emotion. It was empty, cloudless and to Kenny, it was terribly cold. His own mind mirrored the night sky. There was nothing he could do for Rebecca, nothing that did not seem empty and hollow.
"I need to go back, Kenny." Her words caught him by surprise.
"What?"
She turned, slowly, meeting his dark eyes. "I need to do something. It's important that you take me back to the corner's office."
"Killjoy, there is nothing that you can do there right now. Dee has it under control, you don't want to waste...."
"I'm not wasting anyone's time Kenny!" She hesitated, seeing his eyes react from her angry words. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she repeated. "If any time is being wasted, it's my own. I need to keep focusing on these murders, you have to understand. I can't take two days...or even one day to rethink things. I have to put myself in the heart of this mess and clean it up." She shook her head. "Believe me, it's hard to explain...even I don't fully understand what is going on. All I can say is that I need to see those victims. I need to go back." She reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Please."
Kenny did not speak for a moment, his eyes turned away, focusing on the road in front of him. When he spoke, his words were soft and tempered. "I don't understand you anymore....at least I don't know what this new sense of urgency is all about. We've been on this case for a while now and you've done everything by the book. Are you sure that Madame Fields' death isn't causing you to mess things up on your own?"
She glared at him, trying to enforce her feelings. "Listen Kenny. I don't know what I am trying to explain here. Don't ask me. I need to go back to the mourge....can you do that? Or do I have to crash this car and walk back half-cocked?"
"Hold on, Rebecca! Don't start throwing around threats. I will take us back there. Fine! I will do it."
"Good." She crossed her hands over her chest. "Although, when we get back, I want you to go home. I don't want you breathing down my neck. I just need to see something for myself. If I come up with any news you will be the first person I call."

The remainder of the trip back to the corner's office was spent in silence. Kenny felt that any argument would be meant with further disapproval. He pulled the sedan into the parking lot and let Rebecca out. Neither one said anything, and he pulled away without looking back.

Rebecca watched him leave, and wondered if she'd made a larger mess of things. It couldn't be helped now, it was important that she come back here. She felt it, the need burned in her chest. Feel it. The words were even more persitent. She turned and walked back into the building, making her way down two flights of stairs and threw the swinging doors into the mourge. Deanne was in the middle of an autopsy. She looked up, clicking a recorder in her hand. "What are you doing back?" The darkness seemed to launch itself out of the corners of the room. Ominous and deep, it surged into Rebecca's vision.
Without realizing it, Rebecca was running over to cold storage, flinging open the steel doors. Deanne was steps behind her. "What are you doing Killjoy!" She tried to grab onto Rebecca's shoulder, but the officer twisted out of her grasp.
Looking frantically at all the names on the gurnies, Rebecca came upon one of the victims from the murders. She threw back the sheet covering the young woman, whose breasts were horribly disfigured. Instantly the victim's eyes opened, and a high scream pierced the cold interior of the freezer. Why! Rebecca felt Deanne's hands on her back, then the room swirled before her eyes. Everything seemed to mix with the darkness, dancing and wavering, taunting and calling out to her. Rebecca reached out, calling up an unseen force inside her body. Tell me why! Her arms reached out, tendrils of glittery dust seeping from the tortured body on the gurnie. Instantly the shimmering soul of the victim rose to meet her, and together they shifted into the haze.