ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

Knocking On Forbidden Doors

by Jordan Falconer

Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle etc belong to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics, and anyone else who has an interest in Xena Warrior Princess, not me.

Copyright © 2001: The characters in here belong to me. All rights reserved. No part or whole of this work may be copied or used in any shape, form, or manner whatsoever without the author's express written consent. If you want to use them, all you have to do is ask … nicely.

Violence disclaimer: Yes, there is violence, so if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, perhaps you’d like to move on. Also contains references to abuse and a ‘bit creepy’ alert. It’s a much darker tale than normal but worth it!

Love/Sex warning: This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live - move along, move along, nothing for you here ...

PART NINE

Corbin was completely unwilling to go into the house, but Kate was too strong. He made one final attempt to stop her. “Kate - ”

They were in the foyer, and Kate turned to him, eyes unfathomable, glittering with excitement. “I’m not Kate Dupont. Father! Come out!” She had not been gone long, but it seemed an eternity. Finally, there would be an end to it.

Corbin backed away from her slightly. In the background a clock began ticking. “What do you mean you’re not Kate Dupont? If you’re not Kate, then who the hell are you? Where’s Katherine Dupont?”

Kate ignored him, cocking her head, listening. Where had Father hidden himself? That faint sound, was it - ?

Corbin’s palms were clammy, his skin crawled and every one of his senses strained, listening for the sound of the footsteps of the person he instinctively knew was in the house.

He backed away from not-Kate slightly. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

The footsteps were real now, crossing through a room at the rear of the house, rapidly coming towards them. “WHO ARE YOU?WHOAREYOUWHOAREYOU?” Corbin was screaming.

The footsteps were louder, and he just caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned to track it, and took an involuntary step back when a figure suddenly moved from the shadows.

Corbin gave a hissing intake of breath when Alison came fully into the low glow of light that illuminated the house. Alison was physically there, but her spirit was not. The only sign of any expression on her face was when she looked at Kate, and then it was only the briefest flicker of a smile.

Corbin tried to back away from her as she approached them both, but couldn’t – his feet were apparently glued to the floor.

“Elizabeth.” The word was a mere whisper, relieved, longing. “It has been so long.”

“Father.” Kate – Elizabeth Emerick - moved forward into Alison’s – Lyle Emerick’s - waiting arms. She had not felt her father’s comforting touch for so long, and now she drew a hitching breath and sank into his warm embrace.

“Who the hell are you both?” Corbin’s voice shook and his hands clenched and unclenched involuntarily as the adrenalin of terror whipped through his system.

They both turned to look at him and he gasped.

“He doesn’t know yet, does he?” Lyle nodded towards Corbin. That young man, had he unmasked? Clearly not. He would need help to do so. Would it be as easy with him as it had been with his host?

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Father. Not yet.” Her eyes were trained on Corbin. She could see a faint glimmer of who was inside him, but it did not grow brighter. Clearly the young male host was too strong for him to emerge.

Corbin gulped. “What?” Were these the ghosts haunting the house?

“I am Elizabeth Emerick.” It felt so good to say that. She had been cooped up in the vile hospital for months, seeking a quiet escape. It had been quite by chance that her father had happened past a short time ago. If only it had been her beloved Sarah … She ached for a moment as that thought went through her. She had not seen Sarah for so long, doomed as she was to wander the vile house. She would willingly burn in a lake of fire for the rest of eternity if only she could have one small glimpse of Sarah.

“What do you mean you’re Elizabeth Emerick? Where’s Katherine Dupont?”

“She is in here with me, but she’s hiding in a small corner of my mind. She was unable to deal with my memories.” Looking at Kate was like looking at her reflection, so it almost came as no surprise that they could communicate at all. The trouble was that Kate had run into Elizabeth’s memory of her final night on earth. At first it had been a nightmare for Kate, but then it had swamped over into Kate’s reality. It was like throwing a stone into a lake – the splash had been small but the ripples increased in size and force the further from the centre they went. No matter what Elizabeth had done, she could not shake Kate from her living hell of Elizabeth’s last night, when Robert Overton had … had … first Sarah, then her, friends holding her down, forcing her to watch before they all had their turn … and then hounded her as she slowly died.

Corbin gulped. “What do you mean?” Was this really the physical manifestation of the two graziers who had been murdered by Robert Overton?

“I have been living here for close to a century, seeking escape. None of those who stayed in this house could hear me, but Kate could.” Sarah … what had happened to her? Elizabeth had been forced to watch her lover slowly recover and then grow old and die a shattered woman, never able to touch her or love her again. It had almost torn her in two, and she had begun to pray to whatever God that would listen that she would one day be able to join Sarah.

“You’re a ghost?” Who was he? Where did he fit into the picture? Why could he feel another presence approaching them?

“You could call me that. I melded with Kate when she moved in. She’s been locked in my memories of the last night in this house.” It seemed the simplest way to explain it. Robert Overton had found Elizabeth and Sarah together and extracted his revenge with seven of his closest friends. For so long she had prayed to be released from here so she could once again see her beloved Sarah.

“So the writing on the mirror, the rocking chair?” Closer. Ever closer it moved toward them.

“All me.” Her prayers had finally been answered by someone. They told her that it would be soon, and they were right. She could feel it in the air.

“What about the silhouettes and the footsteps? What happened to you, Elizabeth?” How had Robert killed them?

“They were not real. They were simply my recollections of my last evening in this house. Sarah’s husband, Robert Overton, murdered me, and shortly after my father Lyle.” Lyle and Elizabeth shared a brief glance, sadness apparent in both pairs of eyes. “Now dear Mr Daly, you must unmask.” Elizabeth was not about to tell him what had happened. He did not need to know details of what had been done to either Sarah or Elizabeth.

Lyle and Elizabeth both took a step towards Corbin, arms open. He screamed as they enfolded him into an embrace.

It was as though Corbin’s outline flickered and shifted, and abruptly his screams of terror ceased. Elizabeth and Lyle both took a step back.

“Mr Arthur Merrifield?” Lyle Emerick bowed. “I am Lyle Emerick and this is my daughter Elizabeth.” He had never had the pleasure of meeting Sarah Overton’s father; Robert had seen to that.

“It is indeed a pleasure to finally meet you, Emerick.” Arthur Merrifield bowed to them both. “I owe you a debt of thanks for all you tried to do for my Sarah.” He had only found out some of the goings on in the Overton household after Martin his son had visited Sarah, only a month or so before Emerick’s murder. Sarah had barely been able to tolerate her brother’s presence, and the story had been coaxed from her slowly and tortuously.

Lyle shook his head sadly. “Your gratitude is premature. She suffered greatly and I was unable to help her. Your son Martin was instrumental in bringing Robert Overton to justice.” When Lyle found out what Robert and his friends had done to Elizabeth and Sarah, he’d been furious and foolish enough to confront Overton, paying for it with his life.

“Speaking of which, where is Overton?” Arthur’s loathing of Robert was hidden behind his cultured façade. Overton was beyond an animal; his treatment of his wife was despicable. Mercifully, thanks to Elizabeth Emerick, he would finally be made to answer for his actions.

Lyle smiled briefly. “He is being brought here as we speak.”

Arthur Merrifield nodded. “My daughter Sarah - ?” He had not seen Sarah for so long. They had both died, but they had not been reunited. He had elected to return to life, seek out Overton and find some way to bring him to justice.

“I don’t know where she is.” Elizabeth spoke for the first time, her voice forlorn. “I have not seen her for so long. I wish I could.” These last words were spoken in a whisper. Her heart ached for Sarah as it had for so long. All she had ever wanted was to pull her lover into her arms and kiss her just once more.

Elizabeth felt Lyle’s arm slip around her, and pull her in for a brief, gentle hug. “You will find your way to her again. She will always be with you.” He sincerely hoped that were true.

“So you are the person who captured my daughter’s heart.” Arthur’s voice was musing. He smiled slightly. “You gave her so much pleasure, unlike the beast that married her.” He had not found out until after her death how close she had been to his daughter. When Sarah had spoken of her, it had always been with such love and sadness. Sarah had often said that she could feel Elizabeth close by and therefore would never leave the Overton house, but Arthur always assumed that was because she had simply fallen apart with grief. He had never realised that Elizabeth had not left the house after her death. Now, it was clear, Elizabeth had not been able to join Sarah after she’d died, and that was heartbreaking for both.

Elizabeth felt a band lift from her chest. They had been so afraid to tell Arthur Merrifield of their attachment. It had taken every ounce of courage they both possessed and much discussion before they’d told her father Lyle. His reaction to the news was mild. According to him, he would have had to have been blind not to have noticed the love they held for one another. He had ample time to adjust to this new facet of his spirited daughter, and thanked God that she had faith enough in his good nature to tell him at all.

The glow in the room had reached almost normal lighting levels, but it was still low enough to show the clear flash of headlights as another car pulled up to the house.

They listened in silence as doors opened and footsteps pounded up to the front door. Abruptly it flew open and the entire Dupont family spilled into the room.

“You.” Roger’s voice was full of loathing as he spotted Elizabeth. “You should be in the bloody nut house where you belong.” They had tried so hard and they’d almost gotten away with it. Right up until now, the months of skulking around at midnight and phone calls to the house had been worth it. Even dragging Gerri out here at odd times during the day in that fearful dress had been worthwhile. It was the last time he was ever going to listen to Langdale. The only way they would be able to get themselves out of this mess was by killing Kate and dumping her body somewhere no one could find it. Kate’s disappearance from the hospital could easily be blamed on an equally dead pair of post grad students.

Roger took a step towards the woman he mistakenly thought was his foster daughter, fist raised, clearly intent on having some fun before bringing the evening to its conclusion.

Behind him, Anne gasped, momentarily discomfited by the display of a father’s correction of his wayward daughter.

Suddenly Roger found his wrist restrained by Lyle’s strong hand. Brian shifted in the background, alert to assist his father in overcoming the people in front of them.

Disgust written in Lyle’s face, he kept eye contact with the furious Roger Dupont, struggling in the steely grasp. “Elizabeth, who is this? This is not Robert.” Was this one of Robert’s long ago friends? He was certainly barbaric enough for that.

“Who am I? Who the fuck d’you think you are?” Roger’s rage whipped itself towards Lyle as the rest of the Dupont family looked on in disgust at Kate. What a mess – now she was sane again, chances were that she’d be able to get control of all that money again. Bitch – it would mean months of sucking up to explain to her why they used her money to buy some new toys. To make matters worse, now they had those stupid ‘psychologists’ to deal with – and that, of necessity, would not be pretty.

“Sir, you are an animal.” Lyle pulled Roger’s wrist down, disgust written all over his face as Arthur moved in to stand closer to Elizabeth. Neither man had been able to protect their daughters so long ago, and had been tormented by regret ever since.

“This, father, is Roger Dupont. He is Kate’s father. I brought him and his entire family here to face justice.” Elizabeth had tried talking to Kate since she had locked herself away in a small corner of her mind, but was unable to do so. All Kate seemed capable of was tears, and even those were fading as Kate herself become somehow more indistinct. Elizabeth was forced to travel through Kate’s memory and was horrified at what she found there. Her parents were the most unpleasant of people, and her siblings had been so false. For Elizabeth, it brought back memories of her first days in the house, trying to coax Sarah out of the cage Robert put her in. Kate refused to venture forth from her prison, and was rapidly fading away into oblivion.

Lyle smiled and increased his pressure on the red faced and sweating Roger’s wrist, face creasing into a pleasant smile. “Ah. I see. You will pay, Mr Dupont. Fathers do not chastise their children.” His spirited daughter had always been such a source of joy for him. He could not understand how any man who claimed to be a father could treat their children as Roger Dupont apparently had.

“Who the fuck d’you think you are for Christ’s sake? How dare you tell me how to deal with my daughter!” Roger snarled and hissed in pain as the pressure on his wrist rose to almost unbearable levels. It was clear to him that they’d been caught, and could only hope that Langdale could find some way to destroy the two post grads he saw before him. He was not completely up to date, but it seemed that Langdale was in the process of trying to have them removed from their studies at the university. But now, they were all together in an isolated hiding place. With Mark and Langdale’s help, they would soon be in shallow graves in a wilderness. He just had to wait until they showed up.

Lyle bowed politely. “My name is Lyle Emerick and this is my daughter Elizabeth.”

Conversation was interrupted as there was another flash of light. Lyle released Roger’s wrist and hurled him back into the rest of the Dupont family.

Lyle, Arthur and Elizabeth turned to face the front door expectantly. There was the sound of car doors opening, followed by slow, deliberate footsteps coming up the front stairs.

Two figures appeared in the glass of the front door. One reached down and pushed open the front door.

Outlined in the door stood two men. One was Dr Alan Langdale, the other Mark Desmond.

PART TEN (CONCLUSION)

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