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~:: A Troubled Widow
Chapter 3 ::~

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Almost two hours later the slightly disheveled succubus stood next to a worried Widow at on the stern of the ferry from Port Oakes to Mercy Island. Syn wrinkled her nose at the thick pungent smoke belched out by the ancient diesel engine as the dilapidated old vessel slowly made its way to its dock. She wrapped the leather trench coat tighter around herself and turned away from the damp spray that misted her face as the rundown craft chugged through the breaking waves as it neared the shore.

Meg's face was hidden behind her helmet, but Syndi could tell without seeing it that it was drawn tight with worry. As the ferry bumped hard against the docking ramp, they stumbled off and headed away from the group of transients who were lined up trying to board the ferry out of desperation to leave the bleak milieu of Mercy Island.

They made their way along the rocky waterline, trying to ignore the scattered population of infected residents who were either staggering around in a daze or bent double blowing foul streams of whatever contents their stomachs held into the briny water along the shore.

They followed the shoreline to the tip of a small peninsula then carefully climbed the bank. Moving carefully around a small congregation of decrepit shanties, trying to avoid getting close enough to be seen and attract attention, the two crept along at the edge of the sloping rock face that dropped down to the shoreline. Suddenly around the corner of the high wall of the fort a flyer appeared, its huge searchlight scanning the ground ahead of them. Syndi knew the intensity of the light could pierce the even through the shadows she commanded enough for them to see the colors of Meg's uniform, so trying to cloak themselves in darkness would be futile. Grabbing the startled Widow by the hand, she pulled her quickly over the edge as the both rushed headlong down to the shore where the remains of an ancient shipwreck rested. She dragged Meg into a shadowy chamber of the broken hull and waited for the light to move further down the shore . She could hear the quiet fans on the nearly silent flyer passing over them as they held their breath.

Once she was sure it was well beyond them, Syn grabbed Meg by both shoulders. "Look, I am going to sneak past the guards, and manifest at the entrance. Do not move from this spot until I summon you. I will bring you to me, then sneak inside. You just have to slip inside and stay hidden long enough for me to find her. I will try to read her intentions before I let her know why I am there."

"What if she thinks you are a threat?"

"I don't think she will. I have met with her before… years ago. She sort of owes me a favor, actually…"

"Don't tell me you actually…with HER?" Meg asked incredulously, her voice tinged with slight disgust.

Syn snickered, "No, she's not my type, and her soul is already bound so there would be no point in me trying to use my charms as leverage in that regard. No, I just provided her with some information, once, that is all."

Meg paused, her unseen mouth hanging slightly open.

"Don't ask," Syn said, dryly.

"Do NOT move!" Syn commanded. Megan nodded. Syn closed her eyes and once more summoned a cloud of cold darkness around her as she morphed from her human form into her natural demonic state. Her wings unfurled behind her and beat the air as she lifted off the ground and flew along the shoreline towards the shadow of the dark tower that was barely visible on the horizon through the still patchy morning fog.

Flying low and following the shoreline, she slowly ascended when she neared the tower. She had just silently dropped onto the small roof that covered the entrance to the tower when she saw the flyer pass below her, combing the rocky beaches.

Meg felt the hair raise on the back of her neck as she heard soft footfall nearby in the sand. She tried to sink back into the shadows but it did her no good. The silhouette of three dark Arachnos Spider armor suits loomed over her as she realized she was trapped. She took a deep breath and extending the sharp claw blades that were part of her gloves, and took a defensive stance as the first soldier opened fire. The blast knocked her back into the rotting wood of the old wreck. It splintered with a loud crack as she landed hard against it. She gasped to catch her breath after the impact and spun around, slashing her blade in a circular arc around her. She knew she hit at least one when she heard him cry out in pain and clutch his side. A second one lifted his weapon but instead of firing a blast he swung wildly, striking her in the head.

Syn waited for the flyer to disappear around the corner of the fort before closing her eyes and invoking a summons. "Through the threads of darkness and eternity I pull you to my side, Megaira!" she softly exhaled.

Seconds later the Widow materialized from a cloud of dark energy. There were a few scorch marks on her uniform and her helmet was slightly off kilter. "Just in time," Meg panted, shivering from the icy cold of the dark threads of energy. "I guess there are worse ways to travel," she quipped.

"Yeah, like in the back of the HappyCorpse meat wagon?" Syn retorted.

"Good point," Meg muttered as she entered the code Pia had given her to open the door and followed the petite succubus inside.

Megan slid into a dark corner, hiding in the shadows. In the dimly lit corridors, Syn's mantle of darkness made her almost completely invisible. "Syn," she hissed, "That wasn't a random run in. They were looking for me. I think we've been had."

Syn nodded glumly. "Either way, it plays out the same. If we cannot get Ghost Widow to believe you are being framed, you are going to have to spend every breathing moment inside your apartment, probably forever. They will never give up on hunting you. And that is IF we make it out of here…"

"I know," Meg whispered with a sigh.

"Stay here," Syn ordered her quietly.

Meg nodded and pressed up against the wall near the door when suddenly a small cadre of Arachnos came around the corner and opened fire. They never saw the succubus hovering just above them. Her eyes narrowed as she picked the perfect spot to open a sucking channel of dark energy that pulled downwards on everything above it. The group quickly realized the little widow was not alone, and tried to retreat but it was too late. Casting writhing bonds of darkness, the succubus tied them firmly in place. Their vision obscured by the murky black of the negative energy, they found it nearly impossible to strike out at either the nearly invisible demoness or the Widow. Megaira moved in to the group with relative impunity and within a few moments, the bloodied forms of the small troop littered the cold metal floor.

Noting the Mu laying in one corner, Syn observed, "Call it a hunch, but I am betting these are NOT Belladonna's guards. I hope we aren't too late."

"They obviously knew we were coming," Meg said, in a hushed whisper. "Well, they knew I was coming, anyway. I think you were a bit of a surprise."

"It's okay," Syn hissed. "I have even more surprises. As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, you just wait here. I am going to find Ghost Widow. I will summon you when I have located her."

Once again Meg nodded her assent and found a dark corner to duck into.

Syn spread her wings and flew quietly off down the dingy corridor. The red glow of monitor screens and incubation tubes cast a hellish glow on the little demoness. She made her way through the short hallway to the elevator, checking each small floor as she ascended. She found roving bands of guards but the Ghost Widow was nowhere to be found. Several floors up, she rounded a corner in the narrow corridor when she heard the sound of an ominous laugh followed by a voice she knew belonged to the wraith that had once existed as Belladonna Vetrano.

Holding her breath, she listened for a moment. Indeed, this traitor was planning to dispatch Ghost Widow, then kill Seer Marino's brother out of a belief that his life was what bound her to this plane of reality.

She knew she had to act fast. She flew silently into the room just as several of the Mu mystics invoked a spell that began to bind the ethereal Widow's force, preventing her from coalescing into a form that could affect things in their plane of existence while tearing away threads of her essence. The powerful energies had been well planned to effectively trap Ghost Widow in between the realm of the dead and the realm of the living in a painful state of suspension as it slowly shredded her eternal soul.

I cannot wait, Syn thought quickly. Raising one delicate hand, she opened a channel to the netherworld: a sucking pit that enveloped anything that passed over it in a viscous dark energy that pulled them downwards, slowing their movements to a crawl. The Huntsman swore profusely as he realized that his brilliant plan had just encountered a huge problem. He looked around for the source of the dark forces he was feeling but could only make out a slight breeze blowing over him from the beating of Syn's wings. She closed her eyes and silently mouthed the summons, pulling Megaira to her side.

Her command of the darkness was not quite enough to totally obscure the lithe Widow from the Arachnos traitors. The Huntsman charged Megaira with a yell, followed by several panicked Mu firing wildly around them. The incantation broken, Ghost Widow fell to the floor, weakened and dazed. As she struggled to stand, Syn pressed in to her thoughts. We are here to help. Still weakened from the draining effects of the powerful mystical assault, she met the gaze of the petite succubus and smiled, quietly cheering them on as she fought to recover what the Mu had siphoned from her.

Meg felt a burning rage coursing through her veins as she furiously attacked the man who had betrayed her. The fears for her own safety and for that of Xandra boiled within her and were released as a blinding fury in the direction of the man who had framed her in the eyes of the Arbiters.

A massive wave of hideously dark force came rushing past her to drop him where he stood. As his body slumped onto the cold metal, Meg turned to see the succubus smile and nod towards the now retreating Mu. Launching a wave of dark power towards them, it formed writhing threads that held them in place. No longer able to escape, they concentrated on using their magic to try to drain the little Widow of her strength. But her anger at once again being betrayed by a man she had trusted gave her a superhuman stamina as she quickly dispatched them from the first to the last.

When it was all over, Meg stood gasping for breath as Syn explained the ordeal to Ghost Widow. The beautiful wraith nodded knowingly. She turned to the young woman in a uniform much like the one she had worn many years before. "Megaira," she said, "if you save Wretch, all your trespasses will be forgiven."

The blonde nodded solemnly, thanking Ghost Widow as she vanished into an ethereal mist. Syn put a sympathetic hand on Meg's shoulder and felt her trembling. "You going to be okay?" she queried.

"Yeah," Meg answered. "I have heard a lot about her. I never thought I'd actually meet her."

Syn nodded. "Let's go see Seer Marino, and see if she can tell us where they are holding the Wretch."

Meg nodded and pulled a small cell phone out of her uniform. Unlike the one Syn had given her, this was thin and easily concealed, and bore an official Arachnos insignia on its front. She punched in the code to dial Pia's number. She must have been waiting with the phone in her hand, because she answered it instantly.

"Arbiter Diaz has asked me to relay the message to you that he needs to speak to you immediately. He has given his word that you are in no danger if you go quickly."

Megan's face went ashen. The thought of facing him while she still wasn't sure if she was the prime suspect in the murder of an Arbiter made her almost physically ill.

"We have to go," Syn said softly. "It is the only way to resolve this."

Megan knew she was right. Syn gave her a thin smile. "Come on, let's get this over with."

The trim Widow followed the succubus out of the dingy tower and into the gloomy milieu of Mercy Island. "I know, I know," she quipped, "wait right here."

Syn grinned. "You are learning." With a wink she spun around and took flight towards Fort Darwin. With a soft clank she landed next to the flyer that was bringing the latest round of potential “Destined” to face their new life in Mercy Island. She discreetly rounded a corner and found a dark shadow that kept her away from prying eyes while she once again summoned the Widow to her side. Megaira took a deep breath. Syn could feel her anxiety even without seeing it etched across her helmet covered face.

Dismissing the threads of darkness from around them, they both approached the Arbiter together. He greeted Meg and assured her that he indeed had word from Ghost Widow indicating that Megaira was working in her employ in order to track down a nest of traitors. He curtly assured her that he would suspend the termination order until the facts could be verified.

Megan breathed a visible sigh of relief. Diaz ordered her to call Seer Marino and get to the bottom of the matter so that the entire affair could be quickly resolved.

Pia seemed almost frantic. Even though they had dodged the Arbiter's bullet, Paolo was still in grave danger. She urged Meg to hurry to the location where they were holding him.

Syn recognized the address they were given but was surprised to find the instructions were not to enter the structure but instead to access the sewer entrance. It appeared that the Mu had Pia's brother, or what was left of him, trapped in the bowels of Mercy Island.

As they dropped into the entrance to the first long tunnel, Syn gave Meg a silent look and was met with a wordless nod. The succubus cloaked herself in darkness and took on her demonic form as she flew silently down the twisted corridors. It did not take her long to follow the sounds of conflict through the hollow echoing passages to find the hulking creature that had once been a man surrounded by his Mu captors.

She landed on top of a pump that was quietly churning the polluted waters below. Using only her mind, she silently summoned Megaira and with a small blessing infused her with a surge of power beyond her normal range. The feral rage that was born of betrayal once again manifested itself as she attacked the Mu who had betrayed her with a savage fury.

It was not long before the room in which they stood was littered with bodies of the fallen mystics, and Paolo, now known as the Wretch, stood before them. They barely had time to catch their breath when they heard the cries of more of the crazed mystics heading towards them. Surprisingly, Paolo seemed inspired by the news that the girls had saved his beloved Ghost Widow, directed his fury at the incoming horde and decimated them quickly. The trio made their way back through the twisting channels to emerge in the murkey light of Mercy's cloudy sky.

In fumbling, broken speech he thanked them for helping him and mostly for helping the beautiful wraith he lived to protect. Meg could not help but feel pity for the being trapped inside the monstrously mutated form.

While Seer Marino debriefed the svelte blonde Widow, the dark succubus headed for the ferry. Her cell chirped, indicating Meg's readiness to leave this desolate place and Syn quickly invoked her power to summon Meg to her side. They stood together on the ferry's bow waiting for the huddled masses to clamber aboard so the over-laden craft could chug slowly back to Port Oakes.

For the first time since this who ordeal began, Meg pulled her helmet off and let the intermittent rays of sun beat down on her silky blonde tresses as the ocean breeze whipped them around her face. Syn moved close and put a reassuring arm around her waist.

"Relax," the succubus murmured in a silken voice. "The worst is over. Things can get back to their former chaotic semblance of normalcy." She smiled warmly.

Megan laughed. "My life hasn't been normal since... well, since I can remember."

"Sometimes that is not a bad thing," Syn quipped.

Meg met the beautiful brunette's dark eyes with a genuine smile. "Thanks," she said. "Again, I owe you one."

Syn shook her head. "Consider taking on raising Xandra as more than payment enough."

Meg smiled. "She is really no trouble. In fact, she gave my life a focus. That is something I have not had since..." her voice trailed.

Syn nodded in understanding. She knew full well Megaira's dark history...

Megan Kingston was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. The young heiress had met her handsome prince charming and fallen madly in love. However, her fairy tale turned sour after a few years of marriage.

Many would say Meg was blessed with a gilded life. She was the only child of shipping and warehousing magnate Reginald M. Kingston and his beautiful wife Dagmar. She was sent to the finest private schools, and groomed for a comfortable life. She was both intelligent and beautiful, and attracted many worthy suitors.

When she met Dale the first time at a charity event, she was completely taken with his chiseled good looks and his charming personality. They struck an acquaintance and quickly warmed to each other. It did not take long for him to propose. At her parents' insistence, Meg reluctantly presented him with a prenuptial agreement, which he was more than happy to sign. Life seemed blissful and perfect.

He worked for a large corporation in their security department. While they were dating, she accompanied him to one of his office parties where Megan was introduced to Alyssa, a young woman from the secretarial pool. The girls were polar opposites with Alyssa being dark and voluptuous, and Meg being blonde and athletic. One was a wealthy socialite, the other was a working class lackey. By some twist of fate, the two women struck up an instant friendship. The three of them often attending parties together, and Alyssa even lived with them for a short while after her apartment building was evacuated following a fire.

Not long after she was married, Megan's parents were tragically killed in a yachting accident, leaving her to inherit the vast empire of the Kingston Group. She mourned, and both her new husband and her new best friend comforted her.

When her grief failed so subside, she enlisted a therapist to help her cope with the unexpected loss. At the beginning of one of her normally scheduled sessions, her therapist got an urgent phone call and had to abruptly excuse herself to deal with a personal emergency. Megan decided to head home and take a nap. Oddly enough, when she arrived, Dale's car was in the driveway. She heard laughter and music coming from the back yard along with sounds of splashing. She circled around the house, following the drifting sound. The privacy fence was designed to completely block all eyes from peeking into the private yard area. Megan quietly tapped in the code to unlatch the gate and slowly eased it open just enough to see the pool.

What she saw tore through her like a dull knife. Dale had Alyssa on her back on the edge of the pool. Both of them were completely naked. He was standing in the shallow water and her legs were wrapped around his back. A mixture of shock, sadness, and pain held Megan transfixed by the scene.

Their voices drifted across the water and into Megan's tortured hearing. "I have to stay with her, Lyssie. At least for a few more years until some of the investments I made in my name pan out. The bitch has me by the balls with that prenup," he panted, never losing his rhythm.

"I wish we could be together more often," Alyssa whined. "You'd think the stupid broad would get a hobby or something instead hanging around the house all the time."

"Yeah, baby, I know it is hard to get away from her," Meg heard Dale say.

Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes as she listened to them continue to malign her. The one good thing left in her life after the death of her parents had just turned so bitter it made her physically sick. The man she trusted and loved with all her heart was a liar and a cheat. Something deep inside her snapped.

She backed away from the gut wrenching scene and crept around to the front entrance. Silently entering the empty house, she went to the safe, and took out her gun. Quietly she crept onto the patio and padded barefoot down the marble steps that led to the courtyard near the pool. The music was loud enough that they never heard her approach. Dale pulled Alyssa into the water and balanced her on his hips as he continued to rut her. Alyssa's eyes were closed as Megan moved silently behind her cheating mate. When she opened them, she was staring down the barrel of a very large pistol. She let out a startled cry.

Dale could see a look of wildly insane rage in Meg's eyes. It was a look of murder and he knew it. Her first thought was to force them to hang themselves then report it as a double suicide. She had a feeling that no one would believe that. Then she came up with a different plan. She ordered Dale to carry Alyssa out of the pool and onto the lawn. Their faces burned with shame as they unwillingly complied with her demand.

Her rage seethed as they groveled and begged for their miserable lying lives, but in the end, it was to no avail. In a mocking voice, she recited, word for word, the verbal interchange between the adulterous pair, including Alyssa calling her a "stupid broad." Alyssa hung her head and began to cry, knowing she was doomed.

When the muffled gunshots finally rang out, putting an end to their simpering, Megan was flooded with a sense of relief and the feeling of being righteously avenged for the wrong they were perpetrating against her. A feeling of empowerment surged through her as her actions become precise and methodical.

She dressed them in the grass, where they had finally fallen, as easily as she had dressed game when she had accompanied her father on hunting safaris. Dale had already had the foresight to pan the security cameras away from the pool area and park them facing the small cabana, which meant that no human eye would ever see her grisly deeds. She packaged them in large freezer bags and put the bulk of the packages in the walk-in freezer in the basement. Dale's pedigree hunting dogs would feast tonight, and for many nights afterward.

She pulled off her clothes and tossed them into the fire pit along with several logs. Soon she had a cozy fire blazing as the bloodstained evidence disappeared forever. She turned on the sprinkler system and watched the crimson disappear from the lawn, seeping down into the soil to provide nourishment to the roots of the thick grass. She would leave it on all night, just to be sure that nothing remained behind. She placed three bundles of meat on the grate over the firepit, slowly roasting it, before carrying it back to the stable and tossing it into the dog run. Around midnight, she called Dale's office to leave a cloyingly sweet message with his answering service.

After a few days, it became apparent that something was seriously wrong. The investigation began to dig deeper in the facts, and eventually uncovered Dale's workplace dalliance. Megan was able to feign ignorance and even shock when the police told her about it, but one detective had a gut feeling that Meg knew far more than she was telling.

He called and asked if they could come and look around the house. Meg coolly agreed to let them come the next afternoon. She spent the evening cooking. She made an enormous amount of savory pot roast, well seasoned and accompanied by carrots and potatoes. Several pounds of meat were cooked and delivered to the dogs, who ate it with great relish, devouring even the bones. The next day while the officers searched, Meg cleaned the kitchen and served them pot roast and homemade bread. No one noticed that she ate only the bread. An officer opened the freezer, and found only neat rows of meat, wrapped in the kind of vacuum-sealed packages made to help preserve food in the freezer. The bags had a mesh-like texture and a rime of frost that obscured the fact that the meat was slightly different than your average cut of beef.

After a week of daily searches, the officers gave up and went home. Meg maintained her cool demeanor throughout. They had turned up nothing at the estate but the fact that Dale's cell phone was on the nightstand, with several missed calls from Meg throughout the evening that he disappeared. It appeared that perhaps he had just forgotten it when he left the house that evening, but again, Detective Emberling's instincts told him this was not the case.

A month passed and the case began to turn cold. Karl Emberling was not one to give up that easily, however. Every bit of his seasoned police intuition told him that Megan was as guilty as sin. But he had no way to prove it.

Then one afternoon, an anonymous phone call came in to the station. The voice on the other end of the line was curt, requesting that he meet her in a seedy club on the west side of the city. He hesitated before she invoked the Kingston name. Warily, he agreed to meet her.

The clandestine meeting proved fruitful. The club was full of young tattooed freaks sporting Mohawks in a rainbow array of colors. The slender young woman in the maroon bodysuit was nondescript among the outlandish garb of the counterculture that considered this bar their home. A strange helm sat on the bench beside her, and she wore dark glasses as she motioned for the detective to join her at a darkened booth in a secluded corner.

"What have you got?" he asked nervously.

"I promised you information on the young woman who killed her husband and his lover. Megan Kingston, I believe, is her name?"

He nodded. That much could have been gleaned from the news media who had not made any outright accusations but had still capitalized on the story of the heiress with the missing husband and his alleged mistress.

"Where dogs lie, their masters sleep," the woman said, cryptically. He was this close to dismissing her as some kind of crackpot when her next words caused his heart to leap into his throat.

"The evidence you seek does not exist. Smoke rises and water washes away a multitude of sins, however…there is yet one detail that has been neglected. The young woman with whom he was philandering used the facilities in the pool cabana. Her image will appear on the video recording, and if you go search the rooms, you will find a small handbag that does not belong to Megan Kingston. More than that, I cannot see. But this should be enough to point you in the proper direction."

It took him a moment to compose himself. "How do you know this, and why are you telling me?" he blurted.

"I know many things," she purred in a self-assured tone. "I do not limit my sight to what my eyes can perceive. I have come to help you. If you do not want my help, then I will take my leave of you and will not bother you again."

"No, it is not like that! I did not mean to sound offensive," he apologized. "I am a detective, and it is my nature to question everything."

She nodded. "I understand. However, if you return and seek for that of which I have told you, you will no longer doubt me. A handbag might have been easy to plant," she continued, reading his next thought, "But altering the video would be nearly impossible."

He nodded silently. "Thank you, miss…"

She smiled, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth. "I will be in contact with you if I happen to receive any further information on this matter," she said curtly as she slid from her seat and tucked the helm under one arm.

"Thanks," he said dully, as he watched her move silently towards the door, and slip outside unnoticed.

He stepped out into the darkened alley, but she was gone. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he turned and walked towards his car. "Brad? This is Carl. I got a lead on the Kingston case. I need another warrant. We are going back there."

By midnight, Megan was downtown in a dimly lit interrogation room. The video was crystal clear. It appeared that Alyssa had slipped into the cabana to insert her diaphragm. A laughing girl walked directly into the line of sight of the security camera, turned to give a full, clear view of her face as she blew a kiss to someone, presumably Dale and opened the cabana door. Her tiny handbag was found on the floor beneath a bench in one of the changing rooms, where it had fallen. The empty case for the diaphragm was at the top of the purse and open.

Megan became stoically silent. Despite the pressure and their interrogation tactics, she never snapped. The pain she had endured had scarred her deeply and now these scars protected her, enabling her to bury her emotions within them.

The trial lasted months, and at first it looked like Megan would go free. However, fate was not to be so kind. The jury that seemed swayed to her favor suddenly turned as if they were influenced by some force. A unanimous vote led to a guilty verdict and a life sentence. Shock and disbelief coursed through the courtroom and no one noticed the maroon-clad figure in the back of the gallery as she slipped out amid the frantic media onslaught as the doors were opened.

Meg adapted well to life in the women's ward of the Zig. Rumors about her crime were abundant, and she became somewhat of an icon to many of the women there who had known abuse at the hands of their husbands and boyfriends. She made friends and lovers while incarcerated, and developed a lasting relationship with a towering brute of a woman named Cassandra when a riot and prison break occurred. Meg was targeted for release and escorted from her cell out into the prison yard where she was whisked away by agents of a strange criminal association to a new life in a place dubbed "the Rogue Isles".

And now, Syn mused, she was living in Cap Au Diable, raising a young girl and trying to find some kind of normalcy in her life. Syndi felt a pang of sorrow for Meg as she put an arm around her waist. "Why don't we pick up a movie and spend the evening with Xandra?" she suggested.

Meg gave her a melancholy smile and nodded. With a sigh, she watched the sun paint the horizon with the dusky hues of sunset as they approached the dock. She felt a sense of relief at the absence of a present danger, but deep in her heart she knew that this was only the beginning of her ordeal as a member of Arachnos.