Subj: Dark Light -- 1
Date: 3/20/99 2:29:40 PM Central Standard Time
From: Flashman

Dark Light-A Dark Shadows/Guiding Light crossover

Introduction-

In this tale I am assuming that Annie Dutton was extradited to Ohio in February of 1998 where she was sentenced to prison for her misdeeds. This is in direct contradiction to her fate on Guiding Light where she escaped from the Springfield Jail, underwent plastic surgery, and returned to Springfield as Teri DeMarco (perhaps the dumbest soap plot in history). I also assume that the ludicrous cloning storyline on GL never took place and that Annie is still being played by the great Cynthia Watros and not the horrid Signy Coleman. Many of the other characters on GL either took different paths or left the show before the time in which this story is dated. Any changes in the fates of these characters is entirely due to the imagination of the author.

This story is intended as a homage to my two favorite soap actors of all time, Jonathan Frid and Cynthia Watros. It is to them that this little tale is dedicated. Thanks to both for touching my heart with their wonderful performances as Barnabas Collins and Annie Dutton. I hope you dig.

Chapter 1-Annie

Annie Dutton shivered as she walked towards the edge of town. Boy, this Maine weather sure was cold. Here it was, nearing summer, and it felt like winter. She almost wished she'd taken that drunk at the Blue Whale Pub and Eatery up on his offer to go home with him. What was his name? Willie something or other. Loomis, that's what it was. Willie Loomis. What did she care? She'd never see him again.

Collinsport, Maine wasn't the end of the world but Annie guesses that you could probably see the end of the world from Collinsport. From what she had seen of the place it looked like a decaying little fishing village that would never again be what in once was. That is, if it ever was anything to begin with. What did it matter? Tomorrow she'd head back into town, flag down a truck driver, and get him to take her up to Bangor. She might have to do a quick roll in the hay in return for passage. Oh well, better pick a young, attractive one.

Maggie, the nice redhead who ran the Blue Whale, had told her that Bangor was about 40 miles from Collinsport. Annie figured she could find some menial job up there and make enough money to get back to Springfield. Springfield, oh Springfield! When Annie Dutton made it back there she'd really get even with those who had wronged her. Hosebag Reva, Slutbutt Cassie, Jerkwad Josh, and the traitor, Alan. Yes, they'd all pay and pay dearly.

She'd asked Maggie about maybe working at the Blue Whale for a few weeks. She guessed that Maggie was around 50. Maggie seemed real pleasant. Kind of like the older sister Annie never had but always wanted.

"Sorry," Maggie had replied. "Ever since my husband Joe died of a heart attack last year it's been a struggle to keep this place open. I've got a cook/bartender named Harry Johnson and a waitress named Buffy. She's off tonight. In fact, if it weren't for Willie here, we'd probably close down for good. He keeps us in business."

That drunk Willie had guffawed and nearly fallen off his barstool. Once again Annie was glad she hadn't gone home with him. Hell, as drunk as he was she'd have ended up carrying him.

As she continued walking, Annie remembered the events that had led her to this godforsaken place. First being extradited to Ohio to serve that sentence for drug dealing she had received along with Eddie Banks years before. Poor, stupid Eddie. He didn't deserve her but she'd leave him alone or at least let him off lightly. There were bigger fish to fry and Eddie was only a minnow.

The court had sentenced her to five years in prison on the drug charges years before. That sentence was reinstated. The only lawyer she could afford was a public defender. That stupid jerk just out of law school advised her to plead guilty to the two bigamy charges. Fortunately, the judge made the bigamy charges concurrent with the drug conviction, not consecutive. Annie probably would have served only a little over two years before becoming eligible for parole. All in all, it could have been much worse.

That is, until she arrived at the Ohio Reformatory for Women in beautiful Marysville, Ohio. The minute she entered the place she knew she had to get out and get out quick. Her first night there she was beaten up by some big black bitch from Cleveland simply because she had mistakenly sat in the woman's seat in the dining hall. Her cell mate was a loony bird who had poisoned her own child and was doing life without parole. Annie wanted to kill that bitch herself especially since she could never have children.

Annie, because of her nursing background, soon wrangled a job in the prison infirmary. It was there that she met a guard who was selling drugs to both inmates and outsiders. It wasn't hard to get him under her spell. She didn't try to cut in on his racket, that could backfire and she wanted out of prison, not more trouble. They had sex several times in the infirmary. Finally, she persuaded the guard to get her a pass so she could visit her dying grandmother in Cincinnati. Both Annie and the guard knew there was no dying grandmother in Cincinnati. They just wanted to go there for a weekend of love-making and partying. At least that's what the guard thought at the time.

After buying her a dress so she wouldn't have to wear prison clothing, the guard took her to a cheap motel along the river road outside of Cincinnati. That scumbag was grinning from ear to ear and boasting that this night would be the best one yet. For Annie yes, but not that scumbag. Once inside the room Annie knocked out the guard with chloroform she had stolen from the infirmary, stole his wallet, and took his credit cards. She also took off all his clothes down to his underwear and dumped them into the Ohio River.

Annie then drove the prison van to the Amtrak station in Cincinnati. She thought briefly about returning to Springfield but decided that the situation called for subtlety. Impulsiveness and rashness, that's what had ruined her in the past. Once word got out that she'd escaped they'd have an army waiting for her in Springfield. No, the best thing to was head east in the opposite direction, bide her time, and return to Springfield once the heat died down. That's how she ended up in Collinsport, the farthest point east on the train schedule.

She was also out of money. The dirtbag guard hadn't had all that much and Annie was afraid that if she used the credit card they would track her down from that. So she had arrived in Collinsport with a new dress, an almost empty wallet, and an aching stomach. When she got off at the station at about 9:45 p.m. she asked the night attendant there if there was anyplace to get something to eat. The Blue Whale was about the only place that would still be open at this time of night, the man had replied.

After getting directions to the Blue Whale Annie walked through what remained of downtown Collinsport and found the place. Actually, all things considered, the Blue Whale wasn't too bad. There were five people in the place when Annie walked in: owner Maggie, bartender/cook Harry, drunken Willie, and two other drunks who soon sauntered out. Harry fixed her a sandwich and Annie struck up a conversation with Maggie. She found out that the only place to stay in town was the Collinsport Inn. She'd passed that decrepit old fleabag on her way to the Blue Whale. Maggie informed her that rooms there were $38.00 a night. Annie only had $22.00 and change.

So there she was on the road out of Collinsport. Annie Dutton Banks Bauer Lewis and almost Spaulding. A wanted fugitive by now. The most hated woman in Springfield. Not the most hated person in Springfield as long as Roger Thorpe was still alive. But still a close second. She'd show them all someday. They'd all bow down and beg for mercy but she would show none.

Annie had thought about sleeping down near the waterfront docks but soon discarded that idea. Too sleazy and too dangerous. Suddenly, she saw a large house high upon a hill. Collinwood, she thought that's what either Maggie or Willie had mentioned. Owned by the richest guy in town. Well from the looks of the town the guy couldn't be all that rich. Certainly nowhere near as rich as Josh Lewis or Alan Spaulding. But there was always the possibility of a shed or a stable on the grounds and she could sleep there for the night and head back into town in the morning. Then up to Bangor for a little while and back to Springfield.

That's what Annie Dutton was thinking when she came to a fork in the road. In one direction the road led to the large house on the hill. It looked like a pretty steep grade. Annie was getting tired and she didn't feel like walking up a steep hill. Probably almost a mile up there to the grounds of the house. So she took the other direction. Annie didn't know it yet but she had just made a decision that would change the course of her life.

After walking approximately 500 yards from the fork in the road Annie saw it. An abandoned old house. Looked like it used to be one of those colonial mansions she'd seen pictures of. However, it looked deserted now. Annie decided to go in and have a look. There might be a nice, soft couch or bed to sleep on. It sure as hell beat the waterfront, the woods, or some handyman's shack.

Annie reached into her purse and pulled out a flashlight. She'd purchased both items during a layover in New York City. She opened the gate and walked toward the front door. Not surprisingly, it was locked. However, there were several holes broken into the windows. Annie shined the flashlight inside the window, opened the window and climbed inside the house.

Just as she thought the house was deserted. Cobwebs were everywhere. The place looked like it hadn't been occupied in years. Her light flashed on a couch in the living room. It looked pretty cozy. Annie sat down and dust flew up. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers. Oh, was she tired. Just get a halfway decent night's sleep and be on her way out of this creepy dump in the morning. Maybe she should have asked Maggie if she could stay at her place. Nah! She might start asking questions and get suspicious. Stay here tonight and get out of this one horse town tomorrow.

Suddenly, Annie heard a sound which chilled her to the bone. Nothing had ever scared her so much before. Not losing her baby, being arrested on her wedding day, or being locked shut in Marysville prison. It sounded like a heartbeat, a tell-tale heart if she remembered her Edgar Allan Poe. The noise sounded as if it were coming from behind the mantle above the fireplace.

She quickly grabbed her flashlight and shone it on the mantle above the empty fireplace. There was a portrait on the mantle. A contemporary portrait of a very handsome, aristocratic looking man. Annie moved closer, as if drawn by the sound of the heartbeat. Barnabas Collins--the name on the portrait read. She shone her flashlight on the artist's inscription. Sam Evans--1967. Well Sam Evans, you were a pretty good portrait painter in your day, Annie thought. Annie wondered who this man Barnabas Collins was or is. He was probably related to that rich guy on the hill. Maybe a poor relation forced to live down here in this decaying rubble while his rich relations lived it up in the big house above. Still, the guy didn't look like a poor relation. From his expression in the portrait, he looked more like the lord of the manor.

All of a sudden the heartbeat, which had stopped when Annie began looking at the portrait, began again. This time it was even louder and it was coming from the portrait. Annie covered her ears but it did no good. She started to run for the door but then heard a voice call to her:

"Come to me," the voice commanded.

"No! No! I won't!"

"You must. I command it."

"What do you want from me?" shrieked Annie in mortal terror.

"Freedom. Come to me."

Annie wanted to run as fast as she could. Just get away. Leave this awful place. Run back into town and find someone, anyone, who would help her. She'd even turn herself in to the police. Anything was better than doing the bidding of that awful voice, even a few more years added on to her sentence at Marysville.

But she couldn't run. No, she was frozen still. She had to obey the voice. Either that or die. She would obey. It might be the end for her but she would obey. She would give anything to be back in that prison cell or be laughed at by everyone in Springfield but she would obey.

"How do I find you?"

"Merely follow the sound of the heartbeat," the voice instructed.

Annie walked toward the door and unlocked it. She walked outside the decaying old house. The heartbeat was still going strong. Annie thought she might truly go mad, just like everyone in Springfield said she was. But no, the voice kept talking to her and she felt that if she did its bidding she just might survive. Maybe she would be a complete wreck but she would survive.

The voice instructed her to go to the handyman's shack behind the house and procure a crowbar.

"Why a crowbar?" Annie asked.

"Silence! Enough with these foolish questions. Just do as I command," was the reply.

Annie did as the voice instructed. She went to the shack, got the crowbar, and started out on the road in front of the house. Soon she would find out what the voice would demand of her. Now, curiosity began to overcome fear. Whatever awaited her it couldn't be any worse than the humiliation she had suffered from those awful people in Springfield. All she ever wanted was to be happy and to be loved. But she never found it. Not with Rick Bauer, not with Josh Lewis, and certainly not with Alan Spaulding. Then there was Reva, the direct or indirect cause of almost all her troubles. How she hated Reva. Why did that bitch ever have to come back from the supposed dead? Annie and Josh could have been happy. She knew that. Dammit, she knew that!

"Just follow the sound of the heartbeat," the voice instructed as Annie continued her journey down the seemingly endless road.

The farther she walked, the stronger the beat became. Only this time Annie didn't feel like her eardrums were going to burst. Come what may, she was going to see this through. It could end up being the final curtain in her life but her life had been miserable up until then anyway.

After walking a little over a mile down the road, Annie came to a cemetery. Eagle Hill Cemetery, the sign over the entrance said. The heartbeat was coming from inside the cemetery. Whatever it was that awaited Annie lay beyond that grim and forbidding Eagle Hill Cemetery sign. She entered the cemetery and walked toward the sound of the heartbeat.

Annie walked approximately 100 yards into the cemetery when she saw the mausoleum. The heartbeat was coming from inside that mausoleum. Collins was the name on the mausoleum. Everyone around here must be named Collins, Annie thought as she entered into it.

Suddenly, the beating stopped. It was as if Annie had been commanded to enter the tomb and take a good look around. There were three coffins on the floor. Made of marble from their looks. Annie saw three inscriptions on the walls above the coffins: Joshua Collins, Naomi Collins, and Sarah Collins. According to the inscriptions they'd all lived and died in the 18th century except for Joshua who, according to the inscription, had died in 1809. Naomi and Sarah had both died in 1795. Annie guessed that they were both mother and daughter. Sarah had been only nine when she died. The mother, Naomi, had died shortly afterward, probably of grief, Annie guessed.

Annie could identify with Naomi Collins. She too had lost a child. In the womb, before it ever had a chance to see the light of day or smell the freshness of the air. Oh, how Annie longed for her dead child. If that child had only lived! Maybe, just maybe, things would have been different with Josh. The saddest moment in her life occurred that day in the doctor's office when he informed her that the child she was carrying had died in her womb. Her child! How she loved children. She'd been a good mother to Marah and Shayne when she'd lived with them at Carousel Farms. No one could say different. Not Josh and not Reva. Now both had poisoned those two wonderful children against her. They were lost to her forever just like her unborn child.

Joshua. The name on the inscription. Annie hoped that the deceased Joshua Collins was a better person than the Joshua she knew. Did the death of his wife and child in the same year devastate him? Probably, for a while. Then, like most people, he got over it and moved on with his life. He had survived his wife and daughter by fourteen years if the tombstone was correct. Or maybe he simply wasted away from heartache. Annie would never know.

Annie stood in the tomb and took it all in. Why was she here? What purpose was she serving? What did that awful voice and that equally nauseating heartbeat want with her? She guessed that she would have to wait. Something has to happen but what?

Suddenly, the heartbeat began again. Annie almost jumped out of her clothes. Now the fear which had disappeared when she left the old house to follow the direction of the heartbeat began anew. She was about to find out what was happening to her.

"Open the secret panel in the tomb," directed the sinister voice above the pulsating heartbeat.

"What secret panel?" questioned Annie.

"See the rings on the wall above the tomb inscriptions. Pull the middle one toward you," replied the voice.

Annie, quivering with fear, did as she was told. She pulled on the ring and the wall slowly creeped open to reveal a hidden room behind the one where the three coffins lay. Annie didn't have to be told to get the crowbar. She figured she was going to need it in order to protect herself against whomever or whatever was inside that secret room. Slowly, she proceeded into the room, the heartbeat growing louder and louder.

Annie walked down the three steps leading into the secret room and gasped. There it was! A coffin with three chains around it. The heartbeat was coming from inside that coffin.

She knew now why the voice had instructed her to bring a crowbar. It was to get those chains off that coffin. Freedom, that's what the voice had said. Whatever it was that had summoned her was inside that chained coffin. Annie supposed that it was some great evil and wanted to run. She could smell the cold fear on her own breath. But she couldn't run. No, she'd have to do that thing in the coffin's bidding.

Annie took the crowbar and slowly pried the chains off of the coffin. Then she stood there for what seemed to her like an eternity. She approached the coffin and with some difficulty, because she was not that strong physically, opened it.

She gasped when she saw what was inside. It was the man in the portrait at the old house. Barnabas Collins, that's what the name on the portrait had said. He looked like he was asleep. Could he have been placed there by mistake and still be alive? Maybe it was psychic waves or something he had sent out that had been the force that had brought her here.

Annie bent over the coffin toward the man inside. Suddenly, his eyes drew open. Then his mouth opened baring hideous fangs. He reached out with his hand, grabbed the back of Annie's neck, and drew her to him. Annie screamed in sheer terror and then blacked out.