Warnings. I use foul language.... and I’m proud of it! Rated PG for that and 'cause it's scary!
Thanks and Dedications: There's a lot of people that have been wonderful to me and I'm really thankful to, so I dedicate this story to them: My dear friend Jana "The Pest" who's friendship I cherish and who's taunting I deserve... hee hee, Blixa from Italy who's beautiful and talented!!! Doris from Austria wh's reaaaally cool and wrote the greatest Werewolf story!! brrrrr....  and of course Berenice from Mexico! who shares my crazyness and my eternal love for Michael Paré; "Que onda mi hermana? Que Viva la del Vago!!!" hee hee

Any similarity with stuff you remember having seen in movies and other stories.. is not coincidental. It’s just that they based it on the real thing too!

Now, go read... or what? ... Are you....chicken? he he he he

Haunting Season

Draft
By Killash the Unmerciful
 

The late morning had been more than chilly in Houston, Texas. It was cold. Really cold. Unusually cold. October had been ruthless with the weather, a few hurricanes in both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans had added some thrills to the whole thing and every day more and more people found themselves shivering just before breakfast. The teeth chattering kept going all through the day.

Many had commented about it at bars and gatherings. "Jeez! It’s the damnedest, coldest day I ever felt in m’life!" And ordered another drink to warm up.

Then the storms had started. The wind picked up and if possible, it got colder. No one found it amusing anymore.

Sergeant Joe Bill McCandless walked inside the Major Crimes bullpen and looked around, searching for his Mexican partner. The man had been late before but today he was unusually late, more than five hours. McCandless was getting impatient, as the continuous dark mood that had come over him the day before made him clench his fists in anger.

Where in hell was Esteban?

Slowly, he walked past a few co-workers who, noticing the bad mood, had chosen to stay out of his way as much as possible. Joe Bill took a deep breath. They had chosen wisely.

Then it happened again. He felt the cold. Cursing at the still malfunctioning heating system he decided to go downstairs to maintenance and give them a piece of his mind. This was too much, he was freezing his hat off! How was a man supposed to do his job in this weather?

He frowned once more as he walked to the door and then suddenly he stopped. It was here. His eyes opened wide as the cold hand reached for the pistol in his arm holster. He tried to speak but couldn’t. Rage and fear were driving him now. The cold fingers closed on his own and he aimed, then fired.

Everyone dove to the floor and chaos took the place hostage. Joe Bill fired the gun again, his eyes blinded with something more than just fury, his target, still unknown. A dozen weapons aimed at McCandless’ heart, but no one took a shot at him just yet. He was a fellow officer, and a friend.

Finally, he saw the man he was supposed to kill, he was diving behind a desk. Someone shouted Joe Bill’s name but the Texan was deaf, blind and out of control.

He shot again.

And again.

He was helpless, he had lost it, he couldn’t stop what was going on. The touch of those cold hands made him shiver in terror as the gun kept firing at his Italian friend.

*No!* He thought in desperation. *Someone, help me! God! Please!*

Then... it made him fire one last time.

Bang!

It was over.

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Three days earlier, Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont’s office, Major Crimes

"On October 21^st, at 12:30 p.m., Mr. John Whalberg and his wife Marissa walked into Donovan’s Antique Store on 15^th and Jackson. The man was looking to buy an expensive, and tasteful, birthday present for his mother in law. Marissa Whalberg was looking for some antique jewelry for her collection."

Joe Bill McCandless' Texan voice filled the chilly autumn air inside the small office in the Major Crimes Division of Reisner Houston Police Building. He was reading from an open folder, while pacing the floor, for four of his co-workers who were scattered around the room, some sitting, some standing.

It was an unusually cold afternoon with dark blue clouds slowly covering the sky. Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont wished she’d brought her sweater with her that morning. The fact that everyone in the office had been just as unprepared didn’t make her feel any better.

She spoke up from her desk. "And then? What happened?" She knew, but this was a recount of the whole deal to try and figure out where to begin investigating this bizarre situation. Joanne glanced at Levon Lundy, her former partner, who was half-sitting on her desk, running a hand through his bright blond hair, she could tell he was more worried about this than he was letting people know.

Joe Bill continued his recount. "Fifteen minutes later, after examining various artifacts with the help of Mr. Clark Donovan, the store owner, Mr. Whalberg picked out a..." he flipped the page and continued, "17^th century Italian vase. A very expensive thing, I tell ya," he added, scratching his head. "You wouldn’t believe how much..."

"Could you please pick it up, McCandless! I’m becoming an antique myself just waiting for you to get to the point!" Sergeant Joe La Fiamma interrupted loudly from his chair in his usual annoyed Chicago-Italian accent. Like his partner, he was really getting worried and anxious with this strange case. Joanne had noticed that too.

"Okay! Okay!" Joe Bill smirked. "Keep ye’r pant’s on, La Fiamma!" he flipped a few more pages until he found what he was looking for.

"Well ye’r gonna have me here waitin’ till the cows come back home, boy?" Joe replied, doing a poor impression of a Texan accent.

Sergeant Levon Lundy chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair again. A few years ago, his partner wouldn’t have dreamed about joking around with Texas lingo, but after so much time working in Houston, friendship had given him the confidence to go around teasing everybody. Yet, most times he just couldn’t do it right. Something was missing! Talent perhaps?

Standing by the window, Sergeant Esteban Gutierrez shook his head. "Oh, man!" he said, "You sounded more like a crook from the Bronx this time..." he laughed.

Joe Bill chuckled too.

"Just read the damn thing!" Joe muttered.

"Ok," McCandless went back to business. "While the guy was shoppin’ Italian pottery, the wife was snoopin’ around, lookin’ at old necklaces and earrings and such. According to Donovan, at some point she called to her husband and pointed at something in her hand, the store owner recognized the thing as an old diamond necklace he’d bought from an old auction house in..." he flipped another page, "Phoenix, last May."

"And?" asked an anxious La Fiamma again.

"And in the time it took Donovan to walk from the back of the store to where he kept the boxes and to the front again, the woman was dead on the floor and the guy was screaming to call 911."

"Ok" Levon stood up and rubbed his eyes. "Back up! Who killed her? What happened? What did the husband see?"

"That’s the thing!" Joe Bill said. "He saw nothing!" he offered another folder he’d been holding, to Levon while he kept talking. "Accordin’ to the guy, the wife was looking in a mirror when suddenly she screamed and screamed... and then fell to the floor. He ran to her and checked, she was not breathin’ anymore. The guy didn’t know first aid or anything but the coroner said it wouldn’t have done any good at all. She was dead good!"

Levon opened the folder, it was another report and some photographs. He frowned and shivered as a cold chill ran down his spine at the sight of the dead woman. That face... she looked so scared! But it was nothing compared to those eyes... those eyes... Levon felt something close to real fear and looked away. Meanwhile, Joey caught the sudden flashes in Levon’s face and quickly moved next to his partner to look at the pictures better. He never got to, Lundy closed the folder abruptly and shook his head. Joe let it go.

In her chair, Joanne folded her hands, thinking as Joe Bill continued talking, motioning toward the folder. "The autopsy don’t reveal absolutely nothin’. Only the bump on the head from fallin’ on the floor, and that’s it!"

"You mean, we don’t know what she died of, at all?" Joe stated, shaking his head and absently monitoring Levon’s reactions.

"Nope." Joe Bill crossed his arms and stood beside Gutierrez next to the window. Lundy seemed to relax, Joey relaxed too.

"But she screamed." La Fiamma continued.

"Yep."

"And the husband saw it all, and he was pretty shaken up." he added.

"Yep."

"And, since we don’t know what killed her yet, he’s ruled out as a suspect."

"For now, he’s off."

"For now." He repeated.

"Yep."

"And she hadn’t been sick or nothin’ before?" it was Levon’s turn to ask.

"Nope."

"And she didn’t have any problems or enemies or somebody who wanted her hurt!" Esteban pitched in.

"Nope."

"You sure!" Joe frowned.

"Yep."

"So, in conclusion, we don’t have a damn thing to go on!" Levon declared, rubbing his eyes again.

"You got it."

"Damn!"

Nobody spoke for a while, everyone thinking, looking for different alternatives. It was too strange for a young woman to just drop dead like that. No explanation, no motive, nothing. Too strange!

Joanne leaned back in her chair watching her officers dwell in thought. This was no time to be stumped, it wasn’t over yet.

"All right, now it’s your turn, La Fiamma, what do you two have?" she asked.

"Huh?" Joe came back to reality, "Oh, yeah... ok! We have two dead guys. Roommates, both architects, died at the same time but in totally different places. One was found in a sauna at the Marlin Bay Country Club, the other one at their apartment at 852, Prospect Road."

"They were roommates and died the same day?" Gutierrez asked.

"At the same time, Esteban. The coroner has made his statement, they both went out at 10:40 a.m. It’s official."

"Ay, Caramba!" exclaimed the Mexican, finding the whole thing definitely weird.

"You think?" asked Joe La Fiamma, sitting back on his chair. "Then, wait till you hear this!"

"What?"

"They died of hypothermia." Lundy picked it up.

"Hypothermia? In a sauna?"

"That’s right! And that’s not all!" Joe replied, looking at his partner.

"The guy in the apartment had the heating system at maximum. The place was hot as a bakery oven when the officers got there to tell him about his friend!" Lundy finished.

"Really?" Gutierrez looked at them in disbelief.

"Really!" Joe assured, "and still the guy died from hypothermia."

"And so far we have absolutely nothing. No suspects, no cause... in fact the whole thing’s impossible, accordin’ to the doctors!" Levon finished.

"Ah, Chihuahua!" Gutierrez exclaimed again.

"You got that right!" Joe leaned back feeling tired.

Another moment of silence followed. Joanne studied her officers' reactions.

"Wait a minute!" Joe Bill suddenly spoke, "What’s all this got to do with our case?" he asked, waving the files he was holding.

"Well," Levon grinned at Joanne, "It turns out that the two guys had sold some antiques to Donovan about two weeks before they died."

"Donovan, our Donovan?" Joe Bill frowned.

"No. My Aunt Donovan!" muttered a grinning Joey.

"From the Donovan’s Antique Store on 15^th and Jackson?" Esteban ignored him.

"That’s right!" Levon turned to study his files again. "They sold him some family heirlooms, includin’ that Italian vase you were appraisin’ before!"

"You don’t say?" Esteban exclaimed.

"Jeez!" Joe Bill let out a whistle. "Louise!"

"Tell me about it!" said Joe.

"So now what?" Esteban asked after a few moments.

Everyone turned to Joanne, the lieutenant had been very quiet through the whole meeting.

She looked around and threw her hands in the air. "How the heck should I know?"

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That afternoon. Scene of the crime. 852, Prospect Road

She wondered around. It was done. They were both on their way to Hell.

Good.

Who was next?

Oh, yes. Of course!

She left the place, only a trail of hate remained.
 

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Next morning, Reisner, Interrogation Room 3.

Joe, Levon and Joe Bill surrounded a scared Clark J. Donovan, who sat in front of a big table. He was being questioned. He didn’t like it.

Sitting on the other side of the table, Joe La Fiamma stared at the man for a few seconds, studying him, assessing his attitude, probing him. "Mr. Donovan," he finally said, very calmly, "we just want your cooperation. No harm will come to you as long as you help us."

"I’m not hiding anything, Sergeant. I’ve told you everything I know!" Donovan exclaimed. He was very tired of all this.

"Sayin’ yes and no is not the kind of cooperatin’ we need, Sir," Levon pitched in. "Are you sure you didn’t have dangerous substances in your store that maybe you forgot to tell us about? Maybe something illegal?"

"No. No. No!! It’s an antique store, for crying out loud!!"

"Okay, okay," Joe continued, "Then, have you recently bought items from far away countries? Maybe something just dug out of some Egyptian temple? Maybe something from a remote Island? Africa? Asia?"

Levon sat on the corner of the table as he spoke. "Maybe a couple of unrecorded things you forgot to mention to customs? Maybe to avoid questions? It’s okay, we’re not after you, Mr. Donovan, we only want to know what killed Mrs. Whalberg!"

"And maybe keep it from happenin’ again!" Joe Bill added

"I have told you the truth!" Clark Donovan repeated. "Why won’t you people believe me?"

Levon lowered his head. They were getting nowhere. Reluctantly, he took out the forensics file and opened the folder to one of the photos of Marissa Whalberg’s dead body. He shivered, the look in those eyes was unbearable to watch. He placed it on the table. "Okay, Mr. Donovan. I want you to check this photo out, tell me if you see something we don’t."

Donovan looked at Levon with haunted eyes. "Do... do I have to?"

"Not if you can’t handle it, but it would really help us if you could." Levon understood, nobody liked to see dead people, not even in photographs.

Donovan sweated a little bit more before finally making up his mind. He slowly reached out and slid the picture closer. Joe nervously glanced at Levon. They were pushing it almost to the limit and he didn’t like it. Levon nodded, he didn’t like it either.

The picture was black and white. It showed the woman, who was in her early thirties, lying on the floor of the store. Her face was very pale, her hair was loosely spread on the carpet. She had a hand next to her neck and her open dark eyes were looking ahead. Right at the camera, still bright, still almost alive, but dead.

They reflected a sheer terror. As if she had died while realizing something unimaginably horrible. She had not left this world, she had been ripped off it. She had been dragged out screaming as her life was taken from her without mercy. Her sad eyes pleaded, her anguished face asked why. It had been murder. There was no question about it. The only question was how? Why? Who?

Donovan couldn’t keep looking. He closed the folder and looked away. It was too much. Having gone through the same thing before themselves, all three cops remained quiet while the man tried to compose himself.

"It’s all right, Mr. Donovan" Levon finally spoke, "Take your time. This ain’t like the ordinary."

"The ordinary?" Donovan whispered. "You have an ‘ordinary’?"

"We solve a lot of homicides Mr. Donovan," Joe said. "We’re cops."

"Right," The man was barely calming down. He opened the file again and decidedly avoided looking into those eyes. The rest was only a body, she had a beautiful ring in her right hand and a golden locket in a chain around her neck. She was wearing a loose dress with medium cleavage, another short gold chain around her neck with a red flower charm and shiny earrings that matched both the charm and the ring’s design. Donovan looked again. What was this?

"What is this?" he repeated his own thoughts.

All three men were instantly surrounding him. "What?"

"This locket. She’s wearing a charm and... this locket is from my store. She was trying it on, I suppose, but it’s not hers, it’s mine!"

"You sure?"

"Yes. It’s a gold locket from the Whilloughby collection. I bought it in Phoenix last May. It’s been sitting there for a long time, not many people like it. She must have taken it out of the display counter."

"Mmmhhmmm" Levon kept his brain working.

"I’m telling the truth!" The man exclaimed, irritated.

"I believe you, has anyone else tried it on?"

"I don’t remember." Donovan was angry and shaking now. That photograph was very unsettling.

"Thanks, Mr. Donovan. Stay here, please. I’ll get you something to drink."

Levon, Joe and Joe Bill stepped outside the interrogation room to give Donovan some time to calm down. They made sure to take the file with them.

"Where do you want to get to with this, Lundy?" Joe asked.

"I got no idea, La Fiamma." Levon scratched his head as he looked out the window. "But, it could be helpful to examine the thing. Joe Bill, could you please bring the personal effects from evidence?"

"Sure."

"You think the locket has something to do with it?"

"You got a better idea?"

Joe shook his head and sighed. "I’m gonna get some coffee for the man."

Levon leaned on the wall trying to push away the bad feeling in his gut. He felt something wrong approaching, something dangerous.

Outside, it got colder.

Half an hour later, they were back in the interrogation room. The locket was inside a plastic bag labeled EVIDENCE. It looked completely normal, just like any other piece of jewelry. Levon started to take it out of the bag when Gutierrez stormed inside.

"Got a new one, I think you better come see it!"

"What’s goin’ on, Esteban?"

"Hypothermia."

‘Nuff said. Everyone stood up. "Mr. Donovan, we’ll contact you later, you can go."

As they walked outside, Joe asked the name of the diseased.

"Peter Morales."

At the sound of those words Donovan turned whiter than the corpse on the photographs. "Oh, no!" he said.

"What is it?"

"It’s my assistant!"

Levon grabbed the man’s shaking arm. "Calm down."

"I’d better come with you."

"I don’t think it’s a good idea!"

"Me neither, but I’m goin’ anyway!"

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Later, at the Scene, 230 Victoria Avenue.

It was just like the other two. Enveloped in sweaters, coats and blankets, the man had died in his apartment, the heating had been turned up to the highest level and the place was incredibly hot. Still, Peter Morales was cold dead, his blue lips matched the rings around his eyes. He was pale. He’d died of pure, simple cold.

It was the strangest thing.

As Joe and Levon imagined, the coroner found no evidence of struggle, violence of anything that suggested another reason for the man’s death. This was frustrating.

Clark Donovan lingered in a corner taking it all in. The poor man looked awful. Joe felt equally awful by keeping the man there as long as they had, he knew that if this was difficult for seasoned cops like them, it had to be terrible for a middle-aged antique dealer. He approached the guy and tried to convince him to go home. At least, he had a wife who could take care of him.

Meanwhile, Lundy questioned the landlady while McCandless and Gutierrez examined the place as carefully as they could. Nothing.

They never saw her leaving, they couldn’t possibly imagine the truth. She took a long look at the gathering of men while the fire of her hatred re-ignited.

Let them sweat it out!

She laughed inwardly. Then she looked around pleased with herself and, without dignifying the scene with a second glance, started to leave.

"Go home, Mr. Donovan, there’s nothing else for you to do here!"

She stopped. That voice!

She turned to look at the man who’d uttered the words, he was tall and good looking. His blue eyes shone with intelligence, and his manner spelled well educated and... Italian. He looked so much like...

A new surge of hate made her nauseous. She wanted to spit on his face!

She saw him, approaching the door, leading Donovan outside. As she heard that deep voice again, bloodlust and anger crawled inside her darkness and her whole being fiercely demanded his death. She couldn’t resist it, that voice... that spirit... it was annoying, it was dangerous, it needed to be destroyed. She reached out to his neck, one squeeze and his throat would constrict until he died.

It was no use, she couldn’t reach him. She swore, the fire inside her intensified and she screamed in frustration as he walked away past her.

She could not reach him.

Not yet.

But she would.

She would.

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5:00 P.M., Major Crimes Bullpen

Later that afternoon, Levon, Joey, Esteban, Joe Bill, Joanne and Annie Hartung were scattered around the bullpen, comparing notes. Up to that moment there had been no change in the amount of information they had. No leads, no suspects, nothing.

Everyone was feeling useless.

"Maybe we should check out that locket now," said a very tired Joe La Fiamma.

"The locket?" Joe Bill frowned. "What’s that got to do with anything? It’s just a stupid piece of jewelry!"

"I know," sighed Levon. "But I ain’t got nothing else to do just now."

Lieutenant Annie Hartung had inspected the thing herself days before at the lab and found nothing, but she knew that her good friend needed something to keep his mind occupied, so she just watched Levon carefully as he opened the plastic bag and took the locket out. There was nothing unusual about it, he observed. It was made of pure gold, kind of heavy, the front was decorated with a beautiful carved design of flowers. There were probably a picture or two inside. Levon tried to open it and failed, it was stuck.

"Damn!" he shook his head.

"I tried to open it before, honey. I think it’s broken" Annie explained.

"Let me try!" Joe extended his hand but Joe Bill beat him to it.

"I can do it!" the Texan smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Tough guy!" muttered La Fiamma as he sat back down.

Joe Bill tried... he turned it, struggled with it, swore and gave up. Nothing, it was really stuck. Gutierrez tried next, and failed miserably too. Well, it might have been closed for a very long time... could be rusted... sealed...

They passed it around. Joanne frowned and refused to even touch it. She had a bad feeling about handling things found in dead bodies. She was right. Joe finally managed to grab the locket from Gutierrez’s hand and started inspecting it. An eerie feeling came over him as the cold metal touched his skin. Something wasn’t quite right. He stared intensely at the floral design and his mind began travelling freely. A familiarity, a memory not really surfacing, a voice inside him saying something unintelligible, a secret... a dark secret. A lie. He sat there in silence, his eyes locked on the bright metal, his mind gone, flying far away to unknown places.

He forgot his own existence.

"La Fiamma!" Levon urgently called for the third time. Joe wouldn’t answer, he was frozen and unresponsive.

"Hey, Joe!" Esteban repeated. What was wrong?

Joanne Beaumont shook her friend’s shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.

Esteban frowned, a hint of recognition creeping inside him. There was something he knew, something that was supposed to be done in cases like these, he just couldn’t bring himself to remember.

Joey still didn’t move and Levon started to worry a lot. "Hey, La Fiamma, snap out of it!" he said as he shook his friend’s other shoulder.

Nothing.

"What’s goin’ on?" Joe Bill approached, followed by Gutierrez. Annie brought her hand to her mouth, feeling suddenly very scared.

And just then, without warning, Joe came back to life, flipped the locket and opened it as easily as a new book.

"There!" he said cheerfully, just as if nothing had happened. "It wasn’t broken, it’s just that you weaklings have to hit the gym and work out!" he handed the locket to Levon without looking at it and that’s when he saw everyone standing around him.

"Hey!" he jumped in surprise. "What’s this? How did you guys move so fast?"

Nobody spoke. It was too strange. La Fiamma didn’t seem to realize what had just happened.

"You okay, partner?" Levon still had his hand on Joe’s shoulder.

Joey’s voice betrayed his nervousness, "Sure, why wouldn’t I be?"

"You seemed a little bit out of it just now."

Joey raised an eyebrow, "Out of what?"

Levon stared at his partner’s blue eyes and saw only an Italian young man who was truly confused. Before he could say anything Joe Bill pointed at Levon’s hand. "Hey, what’s that?"

They turned their attention to the locket, momentarily setting Joe’s episode aside but not to be forgotten, not by a long shot.

Inside the open locket was a dark red mark. It had been scratched over a small old photograph of what seemed to be a beautiful young woman. The picture was worn and faded, and the mark was bright red, covering it like the scratch of a tiny claw. Eerie. Very eerie.

A cold dark feeling sank in everyone’s heart. All except in Joey’s. The Italian was absently looking at the picture, just curious, only observing. Something wasn’t right. Annie felt it and grew more scared.

"You oughta close that thing!" She said, her voice almost faltering.

"Why?" Joe Bill asked.

"I don’t know!" She shook her head. "You just oughta!"

"There’s something written in here, where the other picture goes," Levon apparently hadn’t heard her. "I almost can’t make it out!"

"You want a magnifyin’ glass?" Joanne asked from her seat.

"No, I got it." He approached the window, to have more light, and started reading. Everyone listened carefully but only one of them understood the words.

 
"Lascia che il Cello sia il mio testimonio
Avere fede in me
A te, non mentirei mai
Sineia, mio caro amore"
 

"amore" Joe corrected.

"What’s that?"

"You said ‘heymor’ and it’s ‘amore’, it means love."

"What are you talkin’ about?"

"You understood it?"

"Yeah. It’s Italian. It says ‘Let Heaven be my witness, have faith in me, I will never lie to you, Sineia, my... true love’, or something like that."

"Oh! That’s so romantic". Annie exclaimed.

"Right!" Joe chuckled, "That’s so bull!" he replied, shaking his head. "Who in their right mind would believe that crap?"

"Oh, come on, Joey!" Annie smiled from her wheelchair, "It’s the voice of a heart professing eternal love. It’s beautiful!"

"It sounds way too mushy!" Joe chuckled. "But I know you’re a hopeless romantic, Annie" he approached and kissed her on the cheek. "That’s one of the reasons I love you so much."

"Aw! Now, that’s too mushy for my taste!" Joe Bill said, smiling.

Oblivious to the Hallmark moment, Levon had been staring at the inscription for some time. His hands were trembling, his throat was dry and his heart had sunk deep... he felt an air of impending danger... death. The room felt colder than ever. He was terrified, what in the world had just happened?

At the sight of his unsettled partner, Joey started to walk towards the window to see what was going on. He never got there. A sudden, savage cold feeling invaded his heart fiercely and the room started spinning, he heard nothing but roaring wind striking his ears, he felt only numbing cold. Nausea gave way to intense pain and he found himself lying on the floor staring at the white ceiling. An unseen freezing hand brushed against his throat, threatening, touching. He tried to speak up but no sound came out. Then... nothing.

"Yes!" she yelled in victory as her dark core grew more and more delighted.

She had caught them!
 
 

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Houston General, room 303
 

"La Fiamma?" Levon asked from the side of the hospital bed. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine. Go home." Joe sounded stronger and sure.

"I’m not goin’ anywhere." Levon frowned.

Joey shook his head in irritation, "The doc said I had to stay for observation, Lundy. No big deal!"

"No big deal?" Lundy couldn’t believe this man! "La Fiamma, you just scared the hell outa everyone back..."

"I know, I know, you’ve said it like fifteen times!" Joe paused and then spoke slowly and patiently to the child his partner had become, accentuating every word, "Listen, I’m sorry I scared you. Must have been something I ate. The doctors did tests, there’s nothing wrong with me, I’ll be out of here tomorrow, now please, Lundy, Go... Home!"

"La Fiamma..."

"Levon!"

Lundy stared at his partner’s blue eyes for a second and tried to read the truth behind them. He seemed to be telling the truth. Maybe there was nothing to worry about.

Maybe.

He caved in, the day’s activities had left him exhausted anyway. He put on his hat and reluctantly started to leave.

"Fine," he said, softly, "I’ll pick you up in the mornin’!"

"Okay!" Joe smiled at his friend, grateful to have someone worrying about him again.

"Stay away from the nurses!"

Joey chuckled. "Uh huh, G’nite! Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite!" Levon walked out of the room, and smiled as he caught the last words.

"Thank you, Levon"

He sighed as he pressed the elevator button and headed home.
 
 

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Later that night, somewhere

She crawled beside his bed and watched him sleep. He’d felt it, she knew it, but he was still not aware of what had really happened.. what he had read, what he had done... what he had brought to himself and everyone around him.

Good!

He had allowed her to take control.

He would die, just like the others.

The all would!

She studied the sleeping face. He was handsome, and yes! he sounded like a goodhearted man... he was a liar, a deceiver, a traitor!!! Just like all the rest of them.

She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and kept watching, he looked so innocent.

She was going to enjoy this so much.

Slowly, she lay beside him. With infinite care she began to stroke his muscular torso, he stirred in his sleep, she tenderly kissed the beautiful lips. He sighed, his heart racing, she slowly moved all over him, caressing, touching, feeling.

He was sweating. Her hands were cold as ice and he didn’t even notice, so strong was his desire.

All men are the same!

She kissed his neck as he stirred a little more and a small moan escaped his lips. She smiled.

Then she did it.

The fool! He never saw it coming.

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Next morning, 11:45 a.m. Red 4by4 Jimmy in motion.

Levon drove his red Jimmy back to the precinct. La Fiamma hadn’t wanted to remain at his apartment, claiming he felt one hundred percent all right. Levon, on the other hand, felt like hell. He couldn’t concentrate as the previous night’s images came back to haunt him. It was bad.

Joe glanced at his driving partner and grew more concerned. He had noticed the change in Lundy’s expression when he’d picked Joe up at the Hospital, but Levon had refused to talk about it... as usual.

Now, the man was pale as a sheet and his eyes were distant. Something was wrong and it was time to drag it out of the guy. Previous experiences had taught Joey that, as far as his partner’s wellbeing was concerned, things had to be taken care of fast, before it got too late... or people could start shooting at them.

"Talk to me, Lundy!"

"What about?"

"Don’t play stupid with me, I can see you’re not fine, as you claim to be, so out with it!"

"La Fiamma"

"Now!"

"Later!"

"Better now than later, Lundy."

"Jeez, La Fia..."

"Humor me, cowboy, I just got out of the Hospital!"

"Guilt trips don’t work on me, La Fiamma!"

"Yeah, they do!"

"Too late, we’re here."

Levon turned off the engine inside the precinct parking lot. Joe remained seated. He wouldn’t stop staring at his friend and Levon was feeling his defensive walls crumbling down. He was about to bail out, but he decided against it. He knew Joey was right, *Better now than later*.

"It’s...."

Joe sat there, quietly.

"I... well, it’s nothing La Fiamma!"

Joe shook his head and kept waiting.

"Okay, okay... I had a nightmare. It was... a very bad nightmare..."

*I knew it!* Joe had gone through that one with his friend before, he knew what it was like and how to handle it, so he lay a comforting hand on Levon’s arm and asked. "Can I help?"

"Don’t think so, La Fiamma..." Lundy paused for a second and then added... "I’ll let you know."

"Cool!"

They got out of the car, and headed up, ready to face the day.

The fools!

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Later, Major crimes Bullpen

From the moment the two partners entered the bullpen, they knew it was turning out to be a rotten day. First, Annie had called in sick, Joe Bill was in a dreadful mood, yelling at everyone for no apparent reason. Joanne had spent all morning making nice to the chief, trying to explain why, between four detectives and the whole department, they couldn’t come up with any leads to those murders. Gutierrez was nowhere to be seen and the heating system was broken. The office was colder than outside... and outside was freezing.

Rotten day.

Still, it had some upsides.

"How you doin’, La Fiamma?" That was the question most people kept asking Joey all day long. He was grateful, a couple of years ago he hadn’t felt that popular in the department, so he enjoyed while he could.

Joe Bill McCandless approached his two friends with a pile of folders and a scary expression. "Here!" he said, dropping the files on the desk. "Get to work!"

"Hey, what’s with you, McCandless?" Joey wasn’t the patient type, but we all know that!

"Nothin!"

"Joe Bill..." Levon used a softer tone.

"I said nothin’!" he gave the two cops a very unfriendly glare, "And where the hell is Gutierrez?"

Joe was about to yell back but Lundy grabbed his arm and shook his head. "Let it go, La Fiamma!" he whispered, "He’ll come around."

"Sure" Joe muttered. A really rotten day this was. He shivered, flipping the first file open. "When are they going to fix the damn heating system?"

"I don’t know," Lundy said, "We better..." he stopped.

Joe looked up to see what his partner was trying to say and jumped at the man’s sudden change of expression. Something was wrong! "Lundy?"

Levon’s face had turned whiter than white, his eyes unfocused, his breathing fast and uneven. It seemed like he was trying to listen to something.

"Hey, Lundy!" Joe stood up.

"Who said that?" Came a barely audible whisper.

"Who said what?"

Suddenly, Lundy turned to the far door, his eyes wide and scared. "There!"

"What?" Joey asked, nervously. He had a very bad feeling.

Lundy clenched his fists. "There it is again, damn it, can’t you hear it?"

Joe listened. There were no sounds but the normal office noises. Levon winced as he turned to the other side of the room. Joey jumped too, he’d never seen Levon so scared before.

"What’s going on?"

None of them could answer, in that moment, Lieutenant Beaumont’s urgent voice called them from her office. They stood there another second before obeying. "You okay, partner?" Joey asked.

"Uuh huh.." the Texan muttered, unsure. Could it have been his imagination? Could it?

Two hours later, they still had nothing and the office was getting colder by the minute. Everyone complained about it but soon, the weather issue was completely forgotten when Joe Bill McCandless suddenly took out his gun and started shooting.

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"Joe Bill!" someone shouted. Lundy, La Fiamma and Beaumont came out of the office to find the place in complete chaos. McCandless was standing by the doorway with his eyes unfocused and his hands shaking. He couldn’t hear anything besides the beating of his own heart, but he could feel... and what he felt he couldn’t manage.

Another shot and La Fiamma and Lundy crept under a nearby desk. "Damn it!" exclaimed Joey. "We can’t just shoot him! Even though I’ve always wanted to!"

"No, we can’t, but he may not leave us another choice, La Fiamma!" Levon was trying to think how to handle this situation without hurting his friend when an intense chill made him wince.

Joe Bill was frantic and speechless. He could feel the cold hand closing on his own, pulling the trigger.

Bang!

"Oh Jeez!"

Bang! Bang!

"He’s gonna kill someone!"

Joe moved toward another desk and a bullet hit a chair two inches away from his nose. "Shit!" he pulled back.

A cold breeze filled the entire bullpen and an unheard sound took Levon’s breath away. He looked around. What the hell?...

Bang!

Another shot almost hit Joe. He was getting nervous. "Hey!" he yelled, "Watch it!" To say something like that to an irrational, gun-shooting, crazed cop was completely illogical, but Joe La Fiamma was known to do such things. Every cop inside the room had a gun pointing at McCandless but no one was willing to shoot. He was a friend.

Bang! This time, Joe Bill uttered a cry of sheer terror and looked around, confused and scared. In that instant, Levon saw his own feelings reflected in his friend’s eyes. Something else was with him. Something... someone...

The cold hand wrapped around Joe Bill’s hand squeezed again. Levon gathered his wits and tried calling to him.

"Hey, McCandless... What’s goin’ on buddy?"

Bang!

The shot was definitely aimed at the place where La Fiamma was hiding.

"Joe Bill!" Levon called again.

Shut up!

Levon heard the feminine voice right behind his ear, only no one was there. He froze. It sounded like thunder but was only a whisper. A horrible whisper.

Lundy paled even more, his brain furiously working, trying to find a rational explanation to all this.

Bang!

Suddenly, a big, dark figure tackled Joe Bill from behind and with a swift move disarmed him and immobilized him. It took a second or two. Then, the menace was over.

Silence came over the scene, then a low whisper finally escaped McCandless’ lips. "Help me, Esteban!"

"Gutierrez!" Someone called out. "Thank God!"

"Yeah!" the Mexican muttered, his eyes never leaving his terrified partner’s. "Can anyone help me here?"

The room came back to life as everyone came out of hiding and people saw to McCandless. Just before the paramedics took him away, Joe Bill whispered again to his partner. "Esteban... it was makin’ me shoot La Fiamma!" he closed his eyes, exhausted, "It wants La Fiamma!"

Then he passed out.

Gutierrez shook his head, his heart constricting in fear and sadness for his partner, his mind still trying to remember what he knew he had to do. All this stuff seemed so familiar!

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Later, Reisner Building
 
 

Joe La Fiamma walked inside interrogation room 3 and slumped tiredly into a chair. After the whole busy afternoon and seeing him so worn out, Beaumont had sent him home to rest while Levon had gone to the hospital with Esteban. Joey did have the intention to obey but, first, he needed some time alone to calm down. McCandless’ outburst had been scary, but the bunch of dizzy spells and headaches he had silently endured all day long was the real thing that was getting to him, big time!

Of course he was not going to tell anyone about it! They would just stick him back in that hospital bed and then he’d be missing all of the interesting action around here.

Why was it so damn cold?

Joe Bill McCandless, of all people!

Why had he done it? What had happened to him? This didn’t look like the usual nervous breakdown, something was really wrong here but Joey couldn’t put his finger on it.

Everyone was acting strange, especially Lundy... well, Joe Bill had beaten everyone in the strange department, but Levon was definitely next on the wacko line. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he so pale and acting like he was hearing things? Why was he having the nightmares?

Why was this happening?

Why was it so cold?

He shook his head, closing his eyes and focusing on nothing. He needed to calm down. Another dizzy spell hit and he grabbed the edge of the table for support. This was getting out of hand! Sadly, he realized he would have to go see a doctor on his own before this got worse. It was really frustrating! Reluctantly, he stood up, real slow... careful not to move too quickly or abruptly and started walking to the door. A shadow by the window caught his attention and in a second the world became a nightmare.

A sharp pain attacked his deeper core, like his blood itself was being killed. He never noticed when he hit the floor, a loud wind filling his ears, just like the day before, only worse. He felt an intense cold grasp holding his bones and incredibly enough he realized he was freezing... literally. Then a cold... very cold hand grasped his defenseless throat and started squeezing... squeezing with a vengeance.

Joey felt all the air escaping his lungs and, with it, life itself. Nothing made sense anymore, he opened his eyes, there was no one there... still, the hand kept squeezing, constricting... he was being killed. Life was being taken from him by his invisible attacker and he couldn’t do a damn thing to defend himself. His eyes closed as all strength left him... he stopped struggling... the pain was unbearable... he was dying.

A familiar voice spoke to him just beyond his reach... "You look too much like him, Giuseppe!"

He kept falling.

"You can still break the ice."

An amazingly bright light shone before him, the wind quieted down and then, suddenly, without warning the pressure was gone. Precious air filled his lungs again. The hand was gone. The cold was gone. He had been released at the last possible instant, just before the moment of death.

He started breathing freely again, his heart painfully beating stronger and stronger.

It was over. He was alive.

There were no words to describe the amount of fear he felt just then.

A whole hour passed before he could gather enough strength to stand up and go home.

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A dark and stormy night. Lundy's ranch.
 

Levon entered his house at ten o’clock that night. He was too tired to talk, too exhausted to even eat and too confused to think. It had been a hell of a day.

Maybe a nice shot of tequila would warm him up a little and help him relax. He sat on the couch, absently switching channels with a thick blanket around his freezing body. Then he found a re-run of an old movie he liked and decided to watch it, maybe take his mind off things. A few moments later he was dozing off.

Outside the weather got bad again. Thunder far away announced yet another night storm. Inside, an icy finger pushed the ‘off’ button and the TV went silent.

The clock on the far wall kept its steady rhythm as the hours passed by.

"NO!"

Levon woke up and sat violently grabbing his chest. He was drenched in sweat, his heart pounded fiercely and he still felt colder than ever. He tried to focus. Where was he? His house, it was dark, it was raining.

He started to calm down but still shivered. All this time he hadn’t taken his hand off his aching chest. He was lost in those horrible memories until another thunder far away brought him back to reality.

God! It was the same nightmare again!

He closed his eyes again, begging his mind to forget it, but it had been so real. He could still feel that cold hand. He was wide awake now and the hand was still pressed against his skin.

It was still there!

He shook his head. It can’t be. I have to wake up now!

Why?

It was a single word. A whisper. Just like what he’d heard before down at the precinct... only this time it was closer. A woman’s voice! He turned around, trying to focus on the origin of the sound. Then it came again, this time on the other side.

Why?

Levon jumped from the couch, his heart going a mile a minute!

Why?

It was closer, he could feel the cold breath against his ear’s skin. A multitude of the nightmare’s images came back to his mind in a rush. He was pressed against the wall, his forehead soaked in cold sweat and his knees giving out under him.

Why?

He could not take it anymore, he gathered all his remaining energy and ran to the door. He never got there... in his haste he never noticed the slight lump on the carpet. He fell down and hit his head on the side of the table, then darkness came, and with it, some more nightmares.
 

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