Epilogue I
The slabs that constituted the main feature of the clinical, antiseptic room were no colder than the bodies that adorned them.
The man in the blue robe let the doors swing shut behind him, as he wheeled the empty trolley back to the ambulance.
All was quiet.
For several minutes, the only sounds were the normal sounds that accompanied old death.
Cadaverous tissue locked or loosened, as the sugars and acids within changed state, causing the tiny whispers and popping sounds that screamed in the ears of the living, when heard for the first time.
The whispers and pops were accompanied by the rustle of small movements, as the muscles and organs of the departed found new positions in which to rest.
The body of the young woman that had just been deposited made more noise than the other soulless husks in the room, as its temperature lowered to match the ambient.
... But the peace in the room was transient.
Movement was suddenly visible through the full-length transparent negligee that covered the newest body. Larger movement than a corpse had the right to display.
The stomach rippled, as something fluttered within; and the vicious wound on its breast seemed to draw in on itself, collapsing; as the upper rib cage fell inward.
Just above the navel, where the word 'Angel' was inscribed, the skin started to stretch, as if something were inside, trying to push its way out.
A tiny pinprick of a hole appeared; and the bloodless flesh peeled back from it like the skin of some thick, rubbery balloon.
A claw. A tiny claw, at the end of a tiny finger, protruded from the ever expanding wound.
The whole stomach suddenly ruptured. Violently. Explosively. To reveal the top half of a foul infant, still half interned inside its mother's cadaver, covered with the ichor of the stomach's contents.
Droplets of dark, flaccid, slimy flesh dripped to the floor on either side of the slab. A kidney slid down the corpse's flank, leaving a trail of yellowish liquid in its wake, which puddled on the floor beneath it as it dangled from the vessels which had carried blood and fluids to it in life.
The infant creature struggled free of its mother, and sniffed at the air around it.
Balls of light appeared in the air around its head, like sanguineous fireflies.
The creature seemed frightened by the lights. It tried to scurry away from them, fearful of the magics that had caused them.
It somehow knew that it was the centre of those magics, that they were its heritage, and his to command, but had no knowledge of how to control them.
It wailed plaintively, hoping its father would hear, and come to its aid, but its agitation only augmented the brightness of the lights.
An orderly came rushing into the room, responding to the despairing sound of the creature's cries.
The creature screeched at the sight of him, and at the smell of living blood.
Food!
Its fear forgotten in its animal bloodlust, it leapt toward the stunned, stuttering orderly...
But never reached him...
The lights had clustered tightly together as it moved, then swooped down to encapsulate it, flaring with the brightness of a thousand photographic flashes.
When the light died down, the creature was gone, vanished, along with the lights.
Epilogue II
So there was I, strolling into the main Bio lab of a starship with a beautiful girl on my arm.
"Mel, how are they coming?" Sandi asked.
"They are ready to be released from the cloning chambers, but there are problems," the computer replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
"Not again!" My heart sank. "What's happened this time? Not the same again?"
"Yes. The mental capacity of the clones is impaired, and Cal is once more incomplete."
"Incomplete," I repeated. My guts churned, as the information sank in. "The brain, again?"
"Yes. The brain has not formed. I have initiated the usual life-support procedures."
I looked at Sandi. She shook her head, sadly.
"It's always Cal," she said. "There must be something genetic that stops her clones from forming brains."
I sighed heavily. It was almost too much to bear. Discovering that the Girls could be re-created as clones after their death had been the most wonderful news that Mel could ever have given me; but, like everything else good that came my way, there was a sting in the tail.
Mel had had to produce dozens of cloned copies of the Girls, as one terrible fate after another befallen them, but the clones were never quite as perfect as the original Girls had been, and the Cal clones almost always developed with no brain matter.
If it were not for the life-support nanomachines that Mel infused them with, Cal's clones would have died within minutes of their 'birth'.
I watched, as the cylinders raised from the deck, their observation ports clouding up in the humidity of the lab.
Doors opened in the cylinders, and the recreated Girls emerged.
"What are you doing here, you fat cow?" Peaches shouted at Sandi.
"Here we bloody go again!" Sandi muttered in reply.
Victoria screamed.
"Make-up!" she yelled. "I need make-up! And nail varnish! And clothes!"
She ran from the lab.
Ethlinn stared at Peaches' naked form, slavering and drooling.
"Tee hee!" came from Cal's cylinder.
I walked over to see why she had not come out.
She was facing the rear of the cylinder. She had not even figured out that the door had opened behind her.
"This way, Petal." I took her arm, and led her off to her quarters.
I wondered how long it would be until the fates conspired to cause her death yet again, so that Mel could have yet another try at re-building her – hopefully complete, and with a brain, for once.
Epilogue III
"And that's all of it," the real estate man said to the client. "One wing was gutted by the fire, but the rest was undamaged."
"... And the cellars, etc, are still intact?" asked the client.
"They certainly are. Fire department says the fire started in one of the sub-levels, but there was little down there to burn, so once it had spread to the upper rooms, the underground fire fizzled out."
"Good, good. And the stories about vampires? Any truth in them?"
"Vampires?" The real estate man laughed. "Naw. There was some kind of cloak and dagger operation going on here. InterPol and the FBI were involved in the cleanup, but there wasn't anything scary, even if the place does look like a vampire's castle."
"That's a shame," said the client. He looked over at Boris, Igor, and Renfield, who were hopefully watching him. "It would have been right in keeping with our image."
"Sorry. Can't help you there."
"Oh, well. It's certainly secluded enough," said The Thing That Once Was Barney's manager. "So we'll take it anyway. And tell the servants that they can stay on."
Igor danced with joy.
Epilogue IV
"YUH THINK IT WUZ A FUCKEN BOMB?" the dumb hick said to his dumb hick sister/common-law wife, after the brilliant flash of light on the hilltop had subsided.
"FUCKEN AH DUZZEN'T FUCKEN KNOW!" the dumb hick sister/common-law wife responded. "LET'S US TAKES US A FUCKEN LOOK-SEE."
"IT FUCKEN WEIRD IF'N YA FUCKEN AST ME!" the dumb hick said, as he walked with his sister/common-law wife up to the top of the hill. "EVVERTHIN FUCKEN WEIRD'S HAPPENED SINCE WE WUZ RAILRODDED INTUH CANADA!"
"FUCKEN YEAH! THEM FUCKEN ASSWIPES SHOULDA FUCKEN LEAVED US BE! WE WUZN'T HURTIN' NO FUKKA! SHIT FUCK ASSHOLE FUCKEN SOCIAL WORKERS!"
"YEAH. BAD FUCKEN YEAR, THAT WUZ! AH WUZ GLAD TUH SEE THA ENDA 1984!"
"WULL, IT 1985 NOW. A HOLE NOO FUCKEN YEAR IN A HOLE NOO FUCKEN COUNTRY, AN... WULL, WILLYA FUCKEN LOOKIT THAT FUKKA!!! IT A FUCKEN BABY!!!"
"A FUCKEN BABY? WHAT FER IT GOTS THEM FANGS AN CLAWS? AN WHY IT FUCKEN APPEAR IN THAT FUCKEN BIG FLASH UH FUCKEN LIGHT?"
"FUCKEN AH DUZZN'T FUCKEN KNOW!!! IT A FUCKEN BABY!!! DUZ WE KEEPS IT?"
"FUCKEN A WE FUCKEN KEEPS IT!!! IT BETTER THAN A FUCKEN PIECE A STRING!!!"
"FUCKEN AWESOME!!! LETS WE CALLS IT KATIE!"
This story is not part of the 'real' Old Spice universe.
