Subj: Consequences of Falling ch. 36
Date: 7/29/01 10:11:45 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Nicole

The morning after, Spring 1976

Quentin felt as if he had been run down by a mac truck. The night before was a blue to him. He could not remember images, only sensations. He remembered the numbness keenly, his body fist under his control but then going lank without notice. Then came the pricks. It felt as if heated needles were attempting to escape the inside his body via his skin. The heat soon followed, coming as angry waves of Hell crashing against his skin. The heat soon became all that remained, never leaving and intensify by the second. Once the pain become unbearable, he lost consciousness. He was only now coming to.

As he awoke, he saw Constance sitting at the foot of the bed, wearing only a white dress shirt and black lace panties. She looked worried, looked as if she had cried for most of the night. He wanted to ask her what had happened but he felt ashamed. He knew that he should remember but he could not. Hell, the sensations that had once seemed so vivid were beginning to fade into oblivion.

"You had a bad night," she whispered.

"I don't want to sound stupid, but what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"No," he sulked. "Why? Should I?"

"I'd think so...or maybe not. We were walking and suddenly you seemed troubled. You said it was nothing, but it soon grew worse and I hailed a cab. Somewhere along the way back home you passed out. Your skin was scorching! The odd thing was that, when I took your temperature, it registered as normal. I let you sit in ice water for an hour, but it didn't help. I took you out and have watched you ever since. Your skin only began to cool when the sun rose."

Quentin could not believe it. This had to be the beginning of what was to come. It disturbed Quentin but he tried not to show it. There was no need to worry Constance more at this point, no need to push her away. She already looked so troubled, her face crumbling by the second. He wanted to hold her and forget, make her forget. Constance, however, seemed comfortable keeping her distance. "What's wrong, Constance?"

"I...I can't tell you," she stammered.

"Yes you can! If I'm here for nothing else, I'm here for you to confide in."

Constance began crying, the tears falling fast and furious into her palms. "You don't understand. I don't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't help you to hear it."

"It's about him, isn't it?" asked Quentin. "You're thinking of the man in France, the one Josef had destroyed."

Constance only cried more, eventually falling face first into the bed. Quentin grabbed her arms and carefully pulled her to him, cradling her to his chest as he stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry to be crying like this," she whimpered. "You're feeling horrible and I shouldn't be thinking about me. I've so often succeeded at forgetting, of pretending that those years never happened. But last night...last night brought it all flooding back! Oh God, I hate all of this! But his pain--from transformation to grave--was so deep."

"Corrin was a werewolf?"

"Yeah. He wasn't the first wolf I've known, but Corrin was different. The others were never in pain. They were like big fluffy puppies. I don't think they were ever human. But Corrin was different. He didn't feel like the others. I didn't know what to think of him at first but I wasn't going to leave him. He was just so interesting, this handsome 19-year-old boy who lived by himself in the forest. I had to know him and he was as interested in me."

"Did he know what you are?" asked Quentin.

"Yes. I didn't volunteer the information, but he figured it out. I think it all began the night he caught me after bathing. I think most men are a bit stunned when they realize that I'm this pale hairless thing. They, of course, tend to get over it. I didn't think anything of it. The truth came out the night we almost had sex--well, regulation vaginal sex. It was extremely late at night, and, as we sat by the fire, Corrin kissed me. I told him to stop and he did for awhile, but he eventually kissed me again. I didn't push him away this time. I suppose I wanted him more than I had led myself to believe. We kissed a while, but it quickly spun out of control. Before I could realize what was happening, he was hard and ready for penetration. I grabbed his cock and told him that he couldn't have me. He asked why and I reluctantly told him everything.

"He didn't say anything. He was still hard, and, since I wasn't going to leave the boy blue-balled, I blew him. It sounds stupid but I thought I was doing the right thing. When I finished, he carefully pushed me onto my back. To my astonishment, i watched his head sink between my knees and he began to kiss my thighs and fondle me. After what seemed like a moment of hesitation, he performed cunnilingus on me. I thought the boy had to be stupid or lacking in any religious training. No one in his right mind would eat out a succubus, considering all the dripping rumors. But he was really good at what he did so I wasn't about to stop him."

In spite of the severity he knew would come in Constance's story, Quentin wanted to laugh. The story seemed like her, "his" Constance, a girl who would by-pass nature and God to have a good time. But he was slightly piqued by the anecdote. He knew well that she had been with many--many, many, many--men, but she had loved Corrin. To top it off, he was also a werewolf. It seemed she attracted them. "What happened?"

"He said that he like me no matter what I happened to be. He said that his family had inexplicably thrown him out. If I hadn't come along, he was convinced he would've died alone. I highly doubt it. He was such a sweet, beautiful boy. He was only 19 and had yet to go through his first transformation."

"When did that happen?"

"Corrin changed the first full moon after his 21st birthday. The day seemed like any other until sunset. At first, he only complained of a slight pain. The pain soon grew worse, and he fell screaming to the ground, writhing under the severe trauma being inflicted on his body. He suddenly became still and that was when he changed. I had never seen anything like it before! It was grotesque, just sticky and gross as he changed into the wolf. Had it been anyone else, it would have been interesting, but it was my lover and I was afraid for him. Once the walking wolf began to rampage through the forest, I followed him to make sure nothing would happen. Fortunately, nothing did happen and he changed back into a man with only a few cuts and bruises. When he came to, I explained to him what had happened. He could only cry. Neither of us could understand what was happening. To this day, I still don't understand what happened to Corrin. It's never been something that I've accepted."

"No doubt," mumbled Quentin. "What did you do for the next full moon?"

"We followed the pattern set by the first," said Constance. "I followed the wolf every full moon for 18 years. I would've done it much longer had they not caught Corrin the year he turned 39."

Quentin could not imagine what she had been through, prowling the French forest every full moon to protect her lover. He could hear the pain in her voice and it broke his heart. It made him think of Beth and how she had done similar things for him, how she had lied to the others and cared for him as soon as she found him. And that poor boy! Corrin had to live a life cowering from something that he did not understand. Corrin did not deserve his fate, probably being punished for the sins of an ancestor he never knew. Quentin realized that he had gotten off easy. Now was the time to see what his fate might have been. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked, cradling her closer for comfort.

"I'll tell you." Constance wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his chest and did her best not to look into his eyes. "I had lived with Corrin for 20 years. I had never spent 20 years in one place, let alone 20 years with a mortal man. But I loved Corrin and I could not imagine my life without him. I knew that he would one day die, but I didn't smell death on him at 39. Except for a few gray hairs and a few extra lines on his face, he had not changed in 20 years. He could have easily lived another 20 years had the hunters not found him."

"How did they find him?"

"Josef found me first. I was following Corrin and Josef grabbed me from behind and pulled me away. He took me to a place where three mortal men awaited us. They held me down as Josef stripped me bare to expose my identity. They were going to prod me but I broke away and immediately began searching for Corrin. I can still remember finding him, seeing him being beaten with sticks with pieces of silver tied to them. When Corrin changed back the next day, he had large welts down his back. They never healed."

Quentin did not know what to say. Corrin's torture already seemed to have eclipsed any pain he went through as a werewolf. "When did they begin the trial?"

"The trial began once the moon cycled through. Josef was the prosecutor," snarled Constance. "He accused Corrin of crimes he had never committed. I had watched over Corrin and I had made sure that he had killed no one! But I couldn't stand in his defense. I was a mark against Corrin. He had lain with a succubus and sex with me was considered bestiality. They were torturing and killing innocent people but I was the fucking animal! No matter because Corrin was the one in trouble. I had to watch as Josef--of all people!--was given moral authority over Corrin's fate."

"They knew what you were but not what Josef was?" Constance nodded. "That's ridiculous! How could they be so stupid?"

"Men are given the benefit of the doubt. If you say the right thing you can get away with murder. And Josef said all the right things! Corrin was convicted and was sentenced to burn at the stake. The night before Corrin was supposed to die. I snuck into his cell. They had beaten him more and the welts trailed down his back and legs. He was emaciated. As a final indignity, they had shaved every black-gray hair from his body. He barely looked like himself. But he was still Corrin and I could not let him burn. I offered to make love to him, end his life before they could kill him. God, we argued because he wasn't willing. He wanted to show the village it's crimes. As Corrin saw it, he was going to die anyway. He was going to be a martyr for the mistreated. I honestly didn't care because I wanted to be with him one last time before he was gone. I knew i could've gotten him to agree had Josef not arrived. Corrin held me until Josef and his lackeys pulled me away. We kissed once and that was our last physical contact before they burned him."

"You watched it, didn't you?"

"I couldn't leave him," cried Constance. "They put him in the town square, strapping him to a large stake set high above the crowd. Josef held me back and I watched the men light the pyre. During the time he maintained consciousness, Corrin refused to utter a sound. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone than I was of him at that moment. But the crowd was frantic! They wanted to degrade Corrin and make him scream. I'm so glad he didn't.

"The fire burned out on it's own. Josef released me and I jumped onto the platform." Constance looked into Quentin's eyes and gently tightened her grip on his neck. "There was nothing left of Corrin but ash and bone fragments. I had lain with that man for 20 years, loving him every moment of it, and those pathetic examples of humanity destroyed him with their hatred in an afternoon. And they had the audacity to laugh at my tears. I smeared a bit of the ash across my forehead and turned to the crowd. I said, 'You killed an honest man! Say what you will of me, but he was a good person. You have betrayed your humanity and your god. I damn every spectator here today to suffer. I want this village to topple to the ground for what you've done to him!' They didn't stop me as I gathered Corrin's ashes in my skirt and they didn't follow me when I washed him into the stream."

Quentin could not believe that Constance had withstood such an experience and maintained her sanity. He could not understand why she bothered remaining civil with Josef. He would have had the asshole hunted down and tortured wherever he went. But Constance knew what she was doing. It was her past, her pain. "And what happened last night reminded you of something that would have happened to Corrin?"

"It was an incomplete transformation," she cried. "He hurt so badly. He had the same problem that you can potentially have. I don't want you to hurt that way again."

"And I won't, Constance." Quentin checked the clock behind her and said, "It's 7:00. You're so obviously tired. Why don't we sleep until noon?"

"I'm worried, Quentin! I can't sleep because I'm afraid for you."

"I'm all right."

"What about last night?"

"What about it?" demanded Quentin.

"You went from feeling perfectly well to passing out. Explain it!"

"I was ill. Isn't that good enough?"

Constance groaned and turned away. She turned back quickly and said, "Tell me that you're well. If you say it and mean it, I'll believe you! You wouldn't lie to me, would you Quentin?"

And that was the million dollar question. Quentin knew he could not win a truth telling contest if his life depended on it. He had scaled down his wide scale confabulations of his youth, wanting to have a clean slate with Constance. There was no reason to begin now, but there was also no need to worry Constance if this turned out to be nothing. "I am perfectly well, darling?"

Constance sighed and fell into Quentin's chest. She soon fell into a deep sleep. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her guiltily. He had not wanted to lie to her. But Constance was a worrier and he could not let her destroy herself over a problem that was out of her control. Quentin wanted to protect her from what might happen as long as he possibly could.

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.