Melinda's fingers curled into the shoulders of the hazel-eyed, brown-haired boy whose name she had already forgotten, her skirt and blouse lying in a heap on a desk near the one on which she was perched. His arms were locked around her thighs as if afraid she would escape, her pussy aching and helpless to his pounding thrusts. Her breasts bounced with each slam of their bodies, jostling the rings and sending spasms of mind-numbing pleasure shooting down to her already straining pussy.

She stretched her arms and leaned back, squirming her hips in hope of better contact between his cock and her clit. His technique was far more enthusiasm than skill, a frenzy of brute force fucking born from both disbelief that a girl would throw herself at him and fear of discovery.

Melinda whimpered as her pussy strained ever closer to orgasm, her back arching. She caught a brief glimpse over his shoulder of the pile of printed announcements sitting on the teacher's desk that the boy had been in the process of delivering when Melinda had beset him.

He had said his name in a nervous sputter that she had barely understood while she had stripped off her clothes save for her stockings and garters. She picked him only as a matter of convenience; he was someone from her lunch period tasked with delivering the afternoon announcements. She got lucky that it was a boy rather than a girl.

The boy had no trouble with her retaining her stockings. He had been fascinated by them, and the touch of his hands against the silky material had made Melinda delirious with desire.

He suddenly clenched his teeth, and his arms tightened like steel bands around her legs. His head tipped back, his hips faltering as muscles stood out on his neck and arms. Melinda despaired as she strained ever harder without cresting, horrified at the notion that her aunt could somehow restrain her orgasm like Bendon did to Heather.

The boy slammed his cock into her one last time, burying it deep. "Oh fuck!" he cried in a tremulous, guttural voice. "H-holy shit ... oh God ..."

His cock throbbed hard against her tunnel, and her pussy squeezed tight in response. She felt each strong pulse and the sudden liquid heat of his seed inside her. She squealed in blissful delight when her pussy finally let go, each throb another tight squeeze around his cock, his few coherent words dissolving into gasps and groans.

Melinda's body flushed with ecstasy. She had thrown herself at him like an oversexed tramp and now reveled in the afterglow. She remembered her tryst with Aunt Jo's son over thanksgiving and wished she had let herself enjoy it more.

The boy staggered back after his cock had flagged, still dripping with her moisture. He fetched up against the desk behind him and clutched it. "H-holy shit ..." he murmured in an awed voice. "That was ... J-Jesus ..."

Melinda offered him a faint smile, though her cheeks colored in humiliation. As much as the orgasm had satisfied her, the rings remained clamped to her now swollen and over-sensitized nipples. Her pussy ached in both satisfaction and need. Her eyes flicked to his flaccid cock, and she wished he could be ready to go again before the lunch period was over.

"I never thought ... you'd ever want to ... well, do it with me," the boy said with a twitching, lopsided smile. "I mean, I know you flashed your ... um, you know, at me, but you were doing it to a lot of guys."

Melinda shivered, and heat trickled back into her pussy. She wondered how much of his cum would be left inside her by the time she flashed her pussy at the next boy. Would he be jealous to see it dribbling out of her, that someone else had been lucky enough to do more than just look?

"I guess that makes you special, then," Melinda said, not knowing what else to say.

The boy grinned. "Yeah, I guess so." He glanced at the clock. "Shit, I better get going," he mumbled, snatching his clothes from the floor. He gave Melinda a nervous glance. "Um, Melinda?"

Melinda knew that look all too well and suppressed a sigh. She pushed herself off the desk, replying in as casual a tone as she could muster. "What is it?"

"You, um, want to go to a movie or something after school?"

Melinda shook her head. "No, thanks." She paused. "I was interested only in your cock."

The boy blinked, likely trying to parse something he had never imagined a girl ever saying to him. He gave her a wide grin. "I'm okay with that, really."

"I wanted to be a total slut for you."

The boy paused. "Um ..."

"Was I total slut? Please, tell me."

He hesitated for a long moment, his face contorting in debate and confusion. "Um ... yes?" he said in a tiny voice.

Melinda let out a husky sigh, and her pussy was suffused with wet heat once more. "Thank you," she said in a breathy voice of relief, though her eyes shimmered when the urges would not stop, and more words tumbled to her mouth at Jo's silent bidding. "A total slut doesn't stop at teasing."

"And I'm very glad you didn't stop at that with me," the boy said as he finished dressing, grinning like the kid who just got the entire toy store for Christmas. "And ... well ... if you want to be the, um, total slut with me again, I'm all over it. Um ... well ... see ya."

He jogged towards the door, then jogged back to the teacher's desk with a sheepish look to collect the announcements he had left behind, then headed out. Seconds later, he returned, his cheeks flaming, as he set one announcement on the desk, then fled once more.

Melinda might have found him amusing in any other context.

No sooner than she had begun to dress did she start thinking of to whom and where she would bare her pussy next, and what boys she would leave with tantalizing unspoken promises she would never keep. At least not until she was compelled again to be a total slut.

She sank into the chair and lowered her head over her folded arms on the desk. She shuddered and let out a single sob, squeezing her eyes shut against the flood of tears which threatened to follow. She held them back save for a few which dripped to the desk.

Her thoughts returned to Jason. He would not do this to her. He would not leave her feeling humiliated and ashamed. He would make her feel happy for everything she did. Even if he were of the mindset to prostitute her to the other students, he would have her enjoy it.

She sniffled and forced herself to raise her head, wiping her face with quick swipes of her hand before she stood. She didn't care any more what anyone else said. No one could possibly understand. If she was going to be consigned to the life of a sex slave, she would at least claim the right of deciding to whom she would be enslaved.

She exited the room just as the lunch period ended, the hallway filling with students. She could catch Jason just before he went to lunch. She started down the hall and nearly ran into someone standing in her way. She was about to protest when she looked up felt her heart sink into her toes.

"Miss Sovert," Seeger said in a low, dark voice. "My office. Now."

Seeger drummed his fingers on the desk as he beheld the younger of the troubled Sovert girls, who quaked as if she expected the world to cave in on her at any moment. At least that was what he could tell from her face, as he was damn well not going to even consider lowering his eyes further. He had seen far more of her than he had ever cared to see of any student when he had peered into the classroom not ten minutes before.

He had only one thing he could say, and it was not the least appropriate. Not that it was perverse, or insulting, or titillating, just that it smacked of using one person's anguish to his advantage, however noble his cause.

Yes, anguish. If nothing had convinced him that mind control was real, it would have been what he had witnessed in the younger Sovert girl over the past week. He could think of nothing else which could turn a girl who was the least likely to violate the rules of decorum into this.

He shuddered as he remembered a similar transformation which had taken over a young girl named Gina Caligano before the Harbingers had put a stop to it.

Seeger let out a slow sigh and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "Miss Sovert," he said in a somber voice. "I am going to ask you one question."

Melinda swallowed and gazed at him with shimmering eyes.

"Is this ... is this in any way related to what is happening with your sister?"

Melinda stared, her eyes widening. "Wh-what?"

"I know of what is happening with the older Miss Sovert. I know of her ... arrangement with Laura Bendon."

"You what?! How did ... who told ...?!" she sputtered.

"Jason told me in confidence. I am sorry, I assumed he had informed the rest of you of what he had revealed to me." Seeger wiped his face. "So please, tell me, does this have anything to do with her?"

"No," Melinda said in a curt voice.

Seeger paused. "You are absolutely sure?"

"Positive."

"Dammit," Seeger muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Why are you asking me this, Mr. Seeger?"

Seeger leaned back. "Because perhaps Laura was right and I am indeed a foolish old man."

Melinda gave him a stunned look.

Seeger shook his head. "Never mind. Forget I said that. If Laura Bendon is not the source of your aberrant behavior, then who is?"

Melinda's eyes shimmered. "My aunt," she said in a small voice.

"Your ... I ... I-I don't believe I heard you correctly."

"My Aunt Jo, Mr. Seeger," Melinda said in a louder but no less despondent voice.

Seeger had no words. He felt as it part of his mind had shut down, unable to handle the shock. He swallowed and his throat clicked. He wanted to ask what her mother was doing about this, but realized that if her mother was at all capable of doing anything, she would never have let Heather fall to Laura.

His intended action seemed as unconscionable as her mother's inaction. Had Melinda answered in the affirmative that Laura was indeed behind her behavior, he would have demanded evidence.

Seeger let out a shaky breath. "You may go now, Miss Sovert."

Melinda stared. "That's it? You're not going to suspend me? Expel me?"

Seeger stared into her shimmering eyes, sensing as much relief as he did despair. "I have the distinct impression given the source of your ... discontent ... that providing you with time at school every day would be far more compassionate than condemning you to your house for twenty-four hours a day."

Melinda's mouth dropped open.

"Return to class, Miss Sovert. I will not note this on your record."

Melinda looked as if she wanted to say something, but instead stood and headed out of the office, casting one last nonplussed look in his direction as she left.

Seeger still had more leads to follow, but he feared they would lead him to the same place as the others: nowhere. Melinda's indiscretion had been his best hope, and now that was dashed. He felt the clock was ticking, not just on his career but on the welfare of the school. He had to come up with something, or his forced retirement would be filled with day upon endless day of regrets.

By the time the last class of the day was over, Jason realized he may have made a mistake in underestimating Richie's powers of observation or his ability to rally the others. Diane shied away from him when he tried to engage her in conversation just before lunch. When he passed by the Harbingers' usual table at lunch, both Cassie and Ned gave him wary looks, and Richie glared at him while he did a little pantomime of pointing to Jason and then ramming his fist as if socking someone with a quick uppercut.

No matter. He knew what he must do. He was in the right, and hopefully the others would see as such when it was over. They had grown used to Diane being their slave once, they would do so again. He was doing only what was best for them.

Jason dashed to his locker, as he had to get as much of a head start on Diane as possible. He had spared some time from his lunch hour to examine Diane's neighborhood on Google Maps. As the service was still relatively new, it did not show all the correct street designations, but the satellite view was decent. He found the perfect spot to wait along the inside curve of the road.

"Jason?"

The voice was so tiny and sheepish that he did not recognize it at first. He turned and gave Melinda a surprised look. "Oh, hi."

"Can I talk to you for a minute, please?"

Jason nodded slowly as his eyes came to rest on the raised circles on her blouse. "Melinda, are you ... are those ...?"

Melinda blushed. "Yes, they're nipple rings," she said in a miserable voice, her hips squirming. "The clamp-on type, anyway."

"Oh, good. I know how you feel about body piercings."

Melinda shuddered, and she took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you something. I-I want ... I want you to make me your slave."

Jason gave her a nonplussed look. "I beg your pardon?"

Melinda glanced at his outline, her eyes shimmering. She swallowed and stepped closer. "Aunt Jo is going to take me away, Jason," she said in a shaky voice. "Just like Bendon did with Heather, only I-I don't think I'm going to be coming back every other week."

Jason's eyes widened. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Look, even if I wasn't, she's making me miserable! She's not letting me enjoy what she's turning me into. At least you would. Or I hope you would."

"Of course I would," Jason declared. "The two slaves I already have are quite happy."

Melinda's stared at him. While she already knew of this, to hear him talk so openly of it was still incongruous.

"I hope you're not jealous, Melinda," Jason said in a warning tone. "I had to enslave them for their own good and to protect others. That's the only reason I would do it."

"So you won't do it for me?" Melinda asked in a forlorn voice.

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure yet. You don't really want to be a slave, do you?"

"No, I don't! But I don't have a choice! At least this way I can pick who gets to hold my chain. I don't want it to be Aunt Jo, or my mother, or anyone else she can think of."

Jason did not want to glance at the clock for fear of giving her the wrong idea, but he had to leave very soon. "Do I have time to think about this?"

Melinda looked stricken, but she sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I thought you'd jump at the chance to have me prance around naked and wet all the time."

Jason's cock swelled, and his lips curled into a small smile. "I admit the idea is rather tantalizing. I love how big your boobs are getting."

Melinda shuddered, a husky sigh passing her lips.

"I'd just love to feel it wrapped around my cock."

Melinda whimpered, squeezing her legs together. She moaned as her stockings rubbed against one another.

Jason tugged his belt so his cock would fall into a more natural position as it expanded. As much as he wanted to refrain from abusing this power, he had to admit how much he enjoyed making girls horny by just thinking about it.

Jason lay his hand against Melinda's cheek. She uttered a breathy moan and panted softly as he willed her pussy to tingle and ache for his cock. Her hands flirted with the bottom edge of her skirt as he envisioned her exactly as she had stated, dancing about him nude, her pussy growing ever more wet for him.

Though perhaps he would let he keep the stockings and garters. She looked so cute in them.

"Yes, I could enjoy having you as a slave," Jason said in a low voice. "But if I did, it would have to be complete. You would know only being my slave and nothing else. I could never let you go, as it may be too traumatic for you."

Melinda trembled as he withdrew his hand. "I doubt Aunt Jo had any plans to let me go, Jason," she said in a small, uncertain voice.

Jason was getting too excited. A stiff cock was too much of a distraction if he wanted to get to Diane's neighborhood fast.

For a moment, his mind held the suspicion that the Harbingers had sent Melinda purely as a diversion or delaying tactic. Now he was forced to look at the clock. "I'm sorry, Melinda, I have to get going. I promise I'll think about it. That way you can make sure it's really what you want to do."

He waited only long enough to see the beginning of a single nod before he dashed past her.

As he barreled out the west entrance of the school, he felt a pang of regret for not talking to her longer about it. As much as he thought he could enjoy having her as his slave, he was not quite as willing to quash a personality that -- despite some of the trouble it had caused him -- he was attracted to in the first place.

Unless, of course, she had indeed been sent as a ruse; that would change everything.

Jason freed his bike from the locker and wheeled it to the street. He mounted it and pedaled at a furious pace until the curve of Orchard Street hid the school from view. He slowed as he was forced to pump his legs hard to climb the steep hill between him and Ridge Road, which followed the west edge of town.

Near the top of the hill, he slowed again. At the T-intersection of Orchard and Ridge, he stopped and looked north towards the way into the picnic area at the base of the foothills, where a girl named Melissa had almost unwittingly brought the Darkness into the physical world.

This was the first time he had been up this way since then. He remembered the vision of the Darkness he had seen after it had been defeated, just before it was forced to return to the node. He glanced down at his own Aura. Could he really believe that it was not a sign of that lurking evil, that it was just a manifestation of the power itself?

He let out a stiff sigh and wrenched his bike around a tight turn to the south, where Ridge Road became more rural. It didn't matter where his power came from. All that mattered was its correct application. He had a responsibility to the Harbingers, even as his cock expanded in anticipation of being taken into the eager mouth of a tamed Diane.

Jason slowed as the road made a gentle turn towards the southeast. Further on it became Fairview Drive, which wrapped around the southern edge of town. He glanced up at the school bus stop sign as he passed. Tall firs and blue spruces lined the west side of the street. He peered through the gaps in the trees, finding that most led to long driveways.

He clutched the brakes and skidded to a stop when he spied a deserted road of cracked asphalt meandering among a thick knot of trees until it took a sharp right turn and out of sight. According to his research, an empty lot lay hidden by a proliferation of evergreens at the end of that road.

Jason pulled onto the road and dismounted his bike. At the corner formed by it and Ridge Road were two towering blue spruces in such close enough proximity that their lower branches touched one another. The west side of the trees faced the foothills, where it lay in afternoon shade and thus remained laden with snow, shrouding the area between them in darkness despite the brightness of the day. He could not have asked for a better spot.

He walked his bike further back from Ridge Road and dropped it behind some bushes. He ducked his head and crouched in the space under the lowest branches of the trees. He positioned himself behind one of the trunks so he could peer up the street towards the bus stop. The trunk was not thick enough to obscure him completely, but if he remained still, he would remain indistinguishable from the shadows.

His plan was simple. He would jump out in front of Diane as she passed. Her initial fright would leave her mind vulnerable enough for him to get a mental foot in the door. He would stop her from walking around him, giving him time to establish a weak hold over her. He needed only enough to lure her down the road and out of sight.

He heard the sound of a car coming the other way. He ignored it until he heard it roll to a stop with a sharp whine of worn brakes, and the engine continued to idle. He glanced over his shoulder and dove around the other side of the tree, lowering himself to the ground.

Jason peered at Debby's minivan and realized he had indeed underestimated the Harbingers and now felt very foolish.

He heard the roar of another engine to the north, but he dared not turn to look. He did not want to risk Debby seeing him. Better for them to think they guessed wrong, that this was just an exercise of better safe than sorry. The unseen school bus stopped, idled for a few moments, then roared back to life. It sped past him in a cloud of diesel smoke.

A minute passed, and he saw Debby wave. Seconds later, Diane passed by, waving back. Jason allowed himself a small, soft sigh, lost in the rustle of the higher branches in the breeze.

Jason risked a turn around the trunk, assuming that Debby's attention would be focused on Diane. He watched her head down Ridge Road before she turned west at the third side street and disappearing from sight. Debby pulled away from the curb, executed a U-turn, and headed back the way she had come. Some distance down the road, she turned east and was gone.

Jason crawled out from under the trees, wishing he had not given his most critical computer components to Cassie. With a little online hackery, he was sure he could engineer something which would force Diane's mother to leave her alone in the house.

He retrieved his bike and had started to wheel it onto Ridge Road when he spotted a blur shoot from Orchard Street like a missile and make a wide, sweeping turn in his direction, briefly dropping out of sight behind the branches of some fir trees.

Jason scrambled back into cover just in time to see Richie whiz by on his bike. He eased forward and craned his neck. He caught Richie just as he turned down the same road Diane had. He waited and watched, tensed and ready to duck back behind the trees.

Finally, both Richie and Diane emerged, both on bikes. They pedaled away further down Ridge Road, past the point where Debby had turned, until they disappeared around the curve towards Fairview.

Jason emerged from his hiding spot, a curious look on his face. Only two places of significance could be their destination if they intended to follow the loop around the edge of town: Ned's house or the cemetery and abandoned church. Given the bombastic nature of Ned's parents, he doubted they were headed there for any sort of meeting.

Curiosity overcame caution. He mounted his bike and set out after Richie and Diane.

Diane surprised herself when she approached the cemetery not with the wariness of Richie or the subdued quiet of Ned, but a genuine sense of wonder. As she stepped over the ruins of the wrought iron fence which once circled this tiny plot of land, she understood why. This was not so much a graveyard to her as an open-air museum.

Diane picked her way through the detritus to get a better look at the headstones. The ruined, moth-eaten look to the place took the edge off any anxiety she may have felt. The rigid rows of graves at a modern cemetery creeped her out, as it struck her as a formal precession of the dead. This seemed far more natural.

"Oh wow!" Diane cried as she lifted a branch and spied the date on a worn headstone. "1912! This is amazing!"

"Heh, an' here I thought ya would be the most skittish of the lot of us," Ned drawled. He rubbed the back of his neck when Diane looked at him. "Ah ... that kinda came out wrong."

Richie thrust his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "I sure as hell don't know what you see in this fucking place," he muttered.

"It's okay, Ned," Diane said, her cheeks coloring as she realized she was the only one so far to set foot in the cemetery. She walked up to the others, though Ned met her halfway. "Really, I am sort of a coward, but this place is full of history."

"Never knew ya ta be inta that, either."

"Well, local history. I was born and raised in the shadow of the Rockies. I like to learn about the history of the area."

"Well, don't go getting no ideas of getting personal history from this place," Richie growled. "If you know what I mean."

Diane had to admit that she would love to get a glimpse of what life was like back then, even in the context of laying someone to rest. "No, Richie, I'd never ask you to get a vision from a grave just for something like that. We have a more important one to get, anyway."

"If there's anything to get."

"Well, we have to at least try," Diane said, her voice betraying her distress over the fact that Richie had yet to set a foot inside.

Richie glanced around and sighed. He finally stepped into the cemetery, though he took a path which seemed calculated to keep him as far from the gravestones as possible. "Okay, fine," Richie grunted. "But if I see one fucking undertaker--"

Diane reached into her pocket and pulled out the pendant. She took a deep breath. "Ready?"

Richie held out his hand. "Not really, but that never stopped us before."

"I'll jus' be the lookout," Ned said as he drifted away.

Diane gave him a tiny smile of appreciation and turned back to Richie. She hesitated, then dropped her hand and the pendant into Richie's palm.

Reality shifted.

Sunlight turned to heavy, leaden clouds. An icy mix of drizzle and snow pellets crusted the thick carpet of leaves strewn across the ground. Diane looked towards the road, and the fence she had stepped over now stood upright.

She turned her head towards the graves and saw the first signs of intense neglect. Several headstones were already cracked. One which was fallen over in the present stood canted at an angle. Weeds encroached upon the paths.

"There she is," Richie declared, startling her.

Diane followed Richie's arm and saw Penny crouched by a grave tucked away in the far corner. Diane stepped closer, Richie following reluctantly, stopping when Diane encroached to within arm's length of Penny's back. Diane craned her neck and made out the letters "HANIE" and "WLER."

She turned to Richie. "Is this it?" she asked in a soft voice. "Is this Stephanie's grave?"

Richie scratched his head and nodded. "And you don't have to whisper, she can't hear you."

Diane had lowered her voice out of habit. Penny had all the appearance of paying her respects to the dead. When Penny stood and backed up a step, Diane was proven correct by the fresh bouquet of flowers which had been placed at the base of the headstone.

"If only she knew Stephanie wasn't really there," Diane said in a sad voice. "I can only guess at what she's thinking."

"You don't have to guess," Richie said. "Put your hand through her."

Diane goggled at him. "What?! You're ... you're joking ..."

"I'm fucking serious. Try to put your hand on her shoulder or something."

"But I don't ..." She trailed off, about to express a desire not to disturb the poor woman. She reminded herself of what Richie had made abundantly clear on the way over: this was not time travel. They were seeing only echoes of the past.

Diane swallowed and stepped up to Penny. "Please, I am terribly sorry if this hurts you somehow," she whispered as she placed her hand upon the woman's shoulder.

Diane was too shocked to sense anything at first when her hand sank into Penny's body as if she were no more than a ghost, until a flood of thought and emotion crashed through her mind and blinded her to all else.

... will not rest until I find out what happened to you, Stephanie. I'm getting closer to the truth every day. I know there is a cult at work in Haven. I don't know why Jo can't see it. Could something be altering her perceptions, making her not see the obvious? Did Jo unwittingly tip them off somehow so they could cover their tracks? Dammit, this is hard. A long distance relationship with David is hard enough without this. When we get married next year, how ...

Diane gasped and staggered back, altered reality slamming back into place with enough force to make the world spin around her head for a moment. She felt hands gripping her arm, and everything snapped back into clarity.

"You okay?" Richie said.

Diane swallowed and nodded. "I'm fine, it was just a little overwhelming. My God."

"What did you get?"

Diane watched Penny pace around the grave site, glancing behind the headstone, then around the base of the nearby trees, then gazing up at the branches. "Just that she knows about the cult, or at least suspects it. She still thinks Jo is innocent, that she's just not seeing the truth."

"Fuck, the shit gets deeper and smellier, don't it?"

"But she said ... well, she thought something that made me think of something. She wondered if someone was altering Jo's perceptions. Maybe Jo was being controlled."

Richie sneered, then followed Penny with his eyes. Diane watched as Penny walked along the edge of the graveyard, then back towards the middle. She stepped past a small bench, glanced at it, then stopped and stared.

Diane's eyes widened as Penny crouched beside the bench and reached for a shiny object on the ground. "She found something!"

"Huh? What? I don't ... aw, it's just a fucking comb."

Diane stared as Penny straightened and turned her find over in her hands. "But how many combs are gold-plated? Wait, there's a name on it but I can't read it."

She had taken a step towards Penny for a better look when Penny abruptly turned her head towards the gate and shoved the comb into her pocket.

"Dammit, I almost had--"

"Good morning, Ms. Sullivan."

Diane's blood turned to ice. Richie let out a vile curse and scrambled back.

Oh God, no, Diane thought, too scared to so much as turn her head. Nonononono ...

"Good morning," Penny said in a pleasant if wary voice. Her lips curled into a small smile. "You have me at a distinct disadvantage. You appear to know my name but you are a complete stranger to me."

The gate squeaked open. Diane nearly screamed when a hand closed around her arm and pulled her to the side. She was forced to turn around, and her eyes fell squarely upon the man. He stood just inside the open gate, with dark black hair and penetrating slate-gray eyes. His dark brown trench-coat lay open, the top few buttons of his shirt open in relaxed indifference towards the cold. Black gloves wrapped his hands like a second skin.

He smiled, exposing perfect white teeth. He radiated warmth, calm, and friendliness as much as the sight of him triggered abject terror in Diane's mind.

"Then I shall be a stranger no more," he said as he stepped forward. "I am Victor Mann. But, please, just call me Victor."

Ned shaded his eyes from the afternoon sun as he peered south down Old Fairview Drive. The old dirt road skirted slightly left in the distance before making a sharp right, where it would loop around the southeast corner of town before joining up with its replacement, the paved Fairview Road.

He heard a soft whimper and shifted his gaze to Diane and Richie. They stood as stone-still as they had when they had first touched hands with the pendant between their palms. Now Diane was trembling and looking distressed. Richie's eyebrows twitched as if he were trying to frown.

Ned heard a distant scrape of wheel against gravel and whipped his gaze back towards the south. Something flashed in the sun, like light off metal.

Ned narrowed his eyes and ventured a few steps outside the cemetery. The road was flanked with dormant aspens, and old snow law swaddled around the roots of those on the west side, where the sun shone the least. They formed a single, irregular snowbank just off the side of the road.

Ned's eyes followed the snowbank until he spotted a small break. He stared until he could just barely see the broken outline of a bicycle amidst the tree trunks.

Ned smirked. "As much as I admire ya and yer ginormous brain, ya ain't got nuthin' where stealth's concerned."

He returned to the southwest corner of the cemetery and maintained his vigil, hoping that Richie was right when he had stated that his visions did not take very long.

After a moment's pause, Penny stepped up to Victor and accepted his extended hand, shaking it once. She tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps I do know you. You look vaguely familiar."

"Oh God oh God oh God ..." Diane babbled as she drifted backwards. She nearly screamed again when she felt someone grab her arms.

"Calm the fuck down already," Richie grunted. "He's not real. He's just a vision."

"Ah, you may have seen some of the extensive work I have done for the community," Victor said in a silky voice. "Such as counseling young teenage girls to help them deal with their peers as they strive for a stable maturity."

Diane swallowed. Not real, just a vision, she thought, though it did little to convince her that he was not about to turn around and ask her why she was not enslaved to the Harbingers any longer.

"And you, I will admit, I know by reputation only," said Victor. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Diane felt the urge to shout a warning when Penny appeared more curious than wary. She did note that Penny kept her hand in the pocket containing the comb. "Oh? You know of my paranormal investigation work?"

"Indeed. I find it quite fascinating."

"Isn't that unusual for someone in your position?"

Victor gave her a curious look. "How so?"

"You deal with angsty teenage girls. That requires a very down-to-earth approach. I don't see how paranormal phenomena has anything to do with that."

"Yeah, don't fall for his fucking bullshit," Richie growled.

Diane sighed. "Does it matter? He can make her believe anything he wants! Maybe this is how she fell. He makes her want to turn herself over to the Darkness."

"--surprised how many teens I have found with mental disturbances which defy normal explanation," said Victor. "I often have to turn to unusual sources for help."

Penny gave him a tiny smirk. "And is that what you consider me? An unusual source?"

Victor chuckled. "Please, my dear, consider it a compliment."

Diane blinked. She felt something in the air, as if it had suddenly built up a small electric charge and then discharged itself.

Penny hesitated, the smirk fading. She settled into a less relaxed stance and folded her arms. "I suppose I will decide for myself how I should take that, but please, do go on."

Diane glanced at Richie. "Did you feel that?"

Richie frowned. "Not sure what I felt."

Diane looked at Victor, who had yet to respond. He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Some of my charges come from unstable homes," Victor said. "I am a big advocate of treating the cause rather than the symptoms. I have found a few families where the disturbance is of ... unusual origins."

"And you believe this is where I would come in, is that it?" Penny asked.

"I believe in keeping an open mind. I can find no earthly cause for their distress, and I coax these wayward girls into seeking shelter elsewhere."

Penny raised an eyebrow. "Such as with you?"

"With my organization. I am sure you would find that a very worthy endeavor," said Victor with a small smile.

Diane gasped as her skin prickled. "There it is again!"

"Huh," Richie said, furrowing his brow.

"I will take your word for it," Penny said, though the dubious tone in her voice was too obvious to be unintentional.

Victor again paused and took on a more formal pose. "It would be in our best interests to get to know each other better and seek a collaboration. You could reap the same rewards I have in helping these girls."

"Again!" Diane cried. "I think I know what's going on!"

"Rewards?" Penny said. She glanced towards the site of Stephanie's grave. Victor's eyes darted in that direction as well, cool and calculating in the moment it took for Penny to turn her gaze back to him. "Could you be more specific as to what rewards those are?"

"He's trying to control her, and she's resisting it!" Diane said. "Just like Mrs. Radson did!"

"Holy fuck," Richie muttered.

Victor paused yet again. Diane did not remember him appearing so uncertain. "The personal satisfaction that goes with knowing you have helped another bright girl realize her full potential and settle into a life of fulfillment and happiness," Victor finally said.

"And you realize this with every girl you've helped?"

"It is certainly a goal I strive to achieve. With your help, I can achieve it more often with more girls. It is those outside cases, so to speak, in which you could be instrumental in helping me determine the source of their disturbance."

"I don't feel it anymore," Diane said. "It's like he realized he can't use his power and is just trying to talk her into it."

"--see how you would want my services for such a sensitive matter based on a chance meeting in an old cemetery," said Penny. She tilted her head and gave him a tiny, humorless smile. "Unless it is not so chance."

"She's on to him," Richie said. "I said Victor was a tool from the start."

"--true I don't believe in coincidences," said Victor, his voice still as smooth as his appearance. "I feel something has brought us together, and I did not wish to miss the opportunity. Would you consent to at least think on my proposal?"

Penny slowly nodded. "Yes, I'll think on it." She paused. "I'll consider a lot of things."

Victor hesitated, then flashed her a smile and turned away. "Then I will leave you, and I hope to meet you again quite soon." He paused halfway to the gate, then turned around. "Oh, I had noticed when I had arrived that you happened to find a comb on the ground. Did it have a name on it, by any chance?"

"No," Penny said without hesitation.

Diane gasped. "She lied to him!"

"You are quite sure? I may know who it belongs to if--"

"No name at all," Penny said in a confident voice.

Victor nodded and headed away. "Then I bid you good day."

"And she got away with it!" Diane cried in a jubilant voice.

Victor headed north up old Fairview Drive. Penny kept a wary eye on him as he retreated. She stepped behind the tree next to the bench. She withdrew the comb from her pocket and looked at it.

Diane scrambled forward. "Remmer!" she declared. "It says 'Remmer' on it. Wasn't that--"

Reality dissolved and reformed around them.

"--Charles' last name?" Diane called out into the cemetery of the present.

"What wuz that?" Ned said behind her.

Diane whirled around to face him. "Ned, we saw Victor!"

Ned nodded. "Wondered why ya looked like ya had the heebie-jeebies earlier."

"He had a conversation with Penny. He tried to control her, tried to make her want to collaborate with him or something, and she resisted it! His power didn't work on her!"

Ned's eyebrows rose. "Huh. And what was that stuff about Victor's right hand flunky?"

"Penny found his comb. I think what we saw was taking place in 1986. Penny was visiting Stephanie's grave -- or what she thought was her grave -- when Victor showed up." She looked between Ned and Richie. "I don't know what to think anymore. I thought we were going to see what happened to Penny, but things just got more complicated."

"Shoulda figgered that," Ned drawled.

"Huh? Why's that?" Richie demanded.

"'cuz if Victor had succeeded in tip-toein' through Penny's mental tulips, she'd be a happy and loyal member of the cult, not workin' for the Dark Poobah of Evil."

"So now what?" Diane asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"What 'bout the comb ya found?"

Diane pointed to the now broken and splintered bench. "She found it right around one of the legs of this. At least I assume it was his. It was gold-plated and had 'Remmer' inscribed on it. And Victor saw her find it."

"Think Heather's Mom mighta saved that comb all this time?" Ned asked.

"So what if she did?" Richie said. "I'm not gonna see anything more than I would with the pendant."

"But if she gave it back ta him?"

"Okay, fine. Where the hell do we find it?"

"Huh. Yeah, good point."

"Wait, what if she did return it?" Diane said. "She'd be wearing the pendant when she gave it to him. We'd at least hear what she said to Charles."

"We gotta be at the place where they talked," Richie said.

"An' that's likely Charles' mansion," Ned said. "Don't think the new owners would take kindly ta visitors."

"Huh? What new owners?"

"Ya didn't hear? Guess Cassie only told me. Charles is gone."

"He moved away?" Diane asked.

Ned shook his head. "More gone in a permanent sense." He lifted his hand and held his forefinger and thumb like a gun and pressed the former to his temple. He flexed his thumb once, and Diane's eyes widened. "Bang. Scratch one Prophet."

"Oh my God," Diane murmured.

"Good fucking riddance," Richie declared.

"Figgered he did it outta remorse," Ned said. "Can't say I blame 'im. Anyway, I'm sure it's been sold by now."

"Does anyone know where it is?" Diane asked. "Can we go over there and see the place?"

"What the fuck for if we can't get in?" Richie said.

"Because I'm grasping at straws, and that's the only thing I can think of. Maybe we'll get lucky and they had the conversation outside or at the front door. That way we won't have to go inside."

"I got a better idea," Ned said. "Lemme talk ta Cassie tonight. She might be able ta get us inside somehow. Better we don't go galavantin' all over town right now."

"What? Why not?" Diane asked.

"'Cuz we're being stalked."

Diane's heart leapt into her throat. "What? Not ... the cult?!"

Ned shook his head. "Jason."

Richie surged forward, his hands curling into fists. "What the fuck?! Where is he?! I'll fucking kick his ass!"

"Easy, old hoss," Ned said. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "He's back down the road aways. Not even close enough ta hear what we're sayin'. Jus' wanted ta let ya know so ya all stick close together headin' back home."

Diane swallowed and glanced past Ned, but she saw nothing but road and aspens. Her heart pounded, and she tried not to think about what might have happened if Ned had not been there.

"I should still pound him some," Richie muttered.

"I think it's best we let 'im think he's got us hoodwinked," Ned said. "It'll make 'im careless. He can't do shit if we're all together like this."

Diane sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Okay, so why can't we just go over to Charles' place now?" Richie demanded.

"'Cuz this ain't 'xactly like goin' ta a normal folks' house," said Ned. "Charles was loaded. His mansion's likely got more security cameras than Fort Knox. Wouldn't be surprised if ya had ta get past one of those big gates across the road jus' ta get ta the front door. Nah, we gotta plan fer this."

"In that case, Richie, I want to head home," Diane said. "Can you come with me?"

"Damn straight I can," Richie said, jogging over to his bike.

Diane stepped over to hers, taking another nervous glance over her shoulder. Despite the promised protection, she felt too vulnerable. She hoped she could pull through for Heather. That would make all of this worthwhile.

Jason watched his quarry leave with Richie, and saw Ned depart down Old Fairview. He pulled himself further into the aspens as Ned sped past.

He realized that following Diane was not going to work. He would have to assume that the Harbingers would be very efficient and ensure Diane was never outside her house by herself.

Which meant if he was to take her, it would have to be inside her house, where everyone would least expect him to be. If he could determine a means to get her alone inside the house, then it would just be a matter of getting to the house without being spotted.

He walked his bike onto the road and mounted it. He had a lot of planning to do, but he was excited at the prospect. He loved a mental challenge, and knowing the Harbingers would be better for it in the end would be worth the effort.

Cassie closed her nightgown and sat on the edge of her bed. "Oh, the Remmer place has been sitting empty since about a week after Halloween. Some family members stayed there just long enough to sort through his belongings."

"So the place is up fer sale?" asked Ned over her cell phone.

"No, it's still caught up in probate."

"Whazzat?"

"It has to do with whether his will is valid. It's being contested rather nastily." Cassie sighed and shook her head. "That poor man had to die so terribly, and the family can't even respect his memory."

"Gotta admire ya, babe. Yer bein' far more generous towards him then a lot of us would be."

"I know he was mixed up in something evil, but he did the right thing with regards to Stephanie's body. He didn't let her linger in living death." Cassie shivered. "And I don't like the idea of anyone dying from a bullet to the head."

"Okay, so if this thing is sittin' empty, any chance we can get in?"

"I really doubt it, I'm sorry. I've seen the place. There's a gate you have to get through at the end of the driveway, and it has a security camera. The mansion itself will likely be locked up."

Ned sighed. "Crap. Was hopin' someone was there that ya could convince somehow ta let us in. But if no one's home anyway--"

"Wait!" Cassie said, though now she hesitated. She hated the idea of going to the place where Stephanie had been locked up for twenty years; she would have the sense of walking over someone's grave.

"Whatcha got, babe?" Ned asked. "Hopefully a very conveniently placed thermal exhaust port."

Cassie's heart thumped. "Ned, I may -- and I really really mean may -- be able to do something."

"Oh? Are ya thinking 'bout usin' yer Projection ability?"

"It's worth trying. I've already proven I can affect things in the physical world, and his mansion must be along that line if Stephanie was able to use it to contact me. I just don't know if I can stay Projected long enough to figure out what to do."

"Jus' try yer best. This is a long shot anyway."

"I do hope it will work. I feel it's really important to know what happened to Mrs. Sovert. Maybe we can help her somehow."

"Yeah, ya can say that again. Okay, I gotta go. Lemme know how it turns out."

Cassie's lips twitched into a small but nervous smile. "I will. I love you."

"Love ya too, babe."

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