Subj: The Rainbow Bridge Pt.2
Date: 1/23/00 4:59:01 PM Central Standard Time
From: marcos1

The food line was very long. Never let it be said that King Pop Evans wasn't a good and humane sovereign. He personally saw to it, that every poor and hungry person had one piece of bread each day. Willie Loomis approached the head of the line. He had been waiting for hours. Mrs.Owens passed out the bread to the person just ahead of Willie. When he came to the front of the line, she frowned. "Willie Loomis," she said in anger, "you've already been through this line once today. Are you trying to cheat?"

"Nay, you must be mistaken," Willie replied smiling. "Old Willie wouldn't try to cheat nobody. He's a good Grunge. Loves old Pop--"

The other people who were standing in line, suddenly broke into an angry mob. They surrounded Willie and started to hit him, throwing rocks and clumps of dirt into his face. "Hey...leave me alone. I didn't mean any harm. I was just hungry," he cried out, covering his face with his hands. Willie felt a chill run through him. The mob was very angry. This might be his end. But then the mob broke away, as a man approached. He was a suave looking man with dark hair and even darker looking eyes.

"Leave Loomis alone," Nicholas Blair said. The crowd started to scatter in fear. The whole village feared this man. It had long been suspected that Blair was from at least half Darkling stock. No one was sure. But no Grunge wanted to risk it. An encounter with a Darkling, even a half-breed, could mean almost instant death. Sticks and fists were no match for the supernatural. Blair picked Willie up, dusting off his cloak.

Mrs.Owens had two pieces of bread in her hands. She handed it to Blair. She was a large woman and her entire body was trembling.

"Willie, my friend," Nicholas said smiling. "Enjoy your bread. I've been doing some traveling. And I have much to tell you."

"I sure am glad that you're back," Willie said, chewing the bread. Spit was running down his chin, but he didn't care--he was hungry.

~~~

Barnabas walked into the throne room. It was a large room with red curtains covering the walls. The ceiling was dome shaped- plated with gold. Two guards stood watch holding large battle ax. There were three pictures on the wall: Solange Bouchard, Harriet Hoffman and Marie Evans. These were the last three Queens. The first two had been beheaded, but the last had died from a natural cause. Marie had been the favorite. Each of the women had been very beautiful; Solange with her golden colored hair, blue eyes the color of the finest jewel, Harriet with high cheek bones -skin the color of a shiny white pearl, Marie with her lovely auburn hair that seemed to change color in different light--and a delicate and lovely neck. These were the mothers of the three princesses.

"Approach the throne, Mr.Collins," Pop said sternly. He was smoking a pipe and drinking from a large glass of wine. He detested Darklings, and this wasn't easy for him at all. "You know why you are here. It's that damn legend...the people wouldn't have it any other way...we have to try this."

"I will pick a bride from your three daughters. After our marriage, we will climb the rainbow bridge."

"Yes, that's correct Collins." The King puffed rings of smoke into the air. "But let me speak plainly, if during your stay here, you attack anyone in the village...I will have stakes run through your heart...and your body will be thrown into the flames...do you understand me?"

"I quite understand the conditions," Barnabas replied. "My purpose here is to court your daughters and find true love. Because only true lovers can walk on the bridge."

"Exactly," Pop said. "Your coffin has been prepared in the basement. Soil from a Darkling village covers the bottom. You should rest easily during the day."

"Thank you," Barnabas said, "you are being very kind."

Angelique watched from behind the red curtains. This Barnabas Collins is a beautiful creature. I must have him for my own. She could feel her heart beating very fast and wondered if the vampire could sense her. Have him, she must, or die trying.

To be continued