Chapter 21

"Vicky?" Mac whispered to the prone form beneath him, then smiled as he realized that he'd fucked her into unconsciousness.

'She'll have fond memories of this night for years to come, ' he thought to himself as he pulled out of her ruined, bloody body.

The flood of blood and semen that followed his cock out of her pussy alarmed him even more than the copious amount of blood already on the bed. Mac was used to blood being a part of lovemaking, especially with Lisa, who loved to be butchered while he ruthlessly split her apart with his cock. But this was an Earth girl – a normal human with some latent psychic ability – most likely a Phoenix trainee in early development.

'She shouldn't be bleeding like this, ' he thought, becoming more concerned.

Most trainees Mac associated with stopped bleeding as soon as he was finished with them. Once their bodies were no longer being ravaged, they would heal miraculously fast and be ready for another round of brutal sex, often within an hour or two. This Earth Girl, however, was still bleeding.

As he sat wondering what to do with her, the door to the bedroom opened. It was Michael. "Hey, Mac," Michael grinned, then saw the somber expression on Mac's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Well," Mac replied, still staring at the limp form on the bed. "I think she might be dead."

"Yeah, right!" Michael grinned. "Like – you fucked her to death? Killed her with your..."

He was looking at Vicky now, as well – studying her face. Her eyes were open and she was staring at the ceiling. And she wasn't breathing, either. Or moving. Or...

"She's dead!" Michael exclaimed, rushing over to cup her head in his hands. "Vicky! Wake up!

"What did you do, Mac?" Michael snarled, turning on his old friend. "Her heart is stopped! What the fuck is it with all this blood?" he exclaimed. "Oh – Goddess!"

He knelt down and placed his left hand on Vicky's unmoving chest and pulsed life-giving Phoenix fire into her prone form. Her body twitched, but otherwise didn't react. He did it again. And again.

Nothing!

"I think she ran out of blood," Mac suggested. "She probably needs some more."

Michael glared at his not-to-bright friend. "You think?"

"Well, it makes sense," Mac replied. "She bled quite a bit – at least a quart."

Michael looked down at the body on the bed and placed his hand on her cold, sweaty stomach. "There's something wrong with her – inside. Her blood isn't where it's supposed to be."

Leaning forward, he placed his forehead where his hand had been a moment earlier. Vicky's stomach was cold and clammy. Michael could feel movement, though, but after a moment, decided that it was simply her body settling down. Her blood – what was left, anyway – was trickling down to the lower regions of her body now that it wasn't being pumped through her vessels and veins.

"There's too much damage to her body," Michael cried. "I can't fix this!"

"Lisa could probably fix her," Mac suggested, "if anybody knows where she went."

'Yes, where is Lisa, anyway?' Vicky thought as she gazed down at the two men messing with her cooling body. 'I was sure she was here, but she must have just been in my mind.'

Michael left, highly agitated, and Mac sat on the bed, the front of his belly and legs painted bright, blood red like the bedspread beneath him, and waited. He knew Lisa wouldn't be pissed at him for killing a potential Phoenix, because that was what he did with Phoenix trainees. And if the trainee screwed up and couldn't get back, he knew Lisa could fix it. Lisa could fix anything. And what she couldn't fix, her blood-sister, Tabatha the Timewalker, could, by simply going back and preventing the occurrence from ever happening.

More than anything else, though, Mac was annoyed with himself. Usually the girls were more advanced in their training and were resilient enough to handle a little tearing and bleeding. Because of the raw mental power this Vicky person had radiated during their tryst, he had assumed that she was at least partially trained. He'd seen images in her mind of being murdered and surviving – coming back to be killed, and killed again, and she'd used those images during their lovemaking to control and redirect the overpowering agony he'd caused her.

'So ... Why isn't she coming back?' he fumed, still hoping that she might flare up and regenerate like a properly trained Phoenix girl should.

Vicky waited, too, not really knowing what to expect. From her position near the ceiling, she could observe the whole room, including her own dead body, which she thought was incredibly alluring. It had perished in the throes of ecstasy, and was posed in a rather erotic arched back position.

'I didn't know I looked that sexy, ' she mused, gazing down at herself. 'I should probably try to wake up. That may be what that beautiful man, Macario, is waiting for!'

She tried to reach down and managed to float a little closer to the bed. 'This is harder than I thought ... How am I supposed to move with no arms and legs?'

She discovered she could go backward, but she wasn't sure how she managed it. She also discovered she could turn left or right – after a fashion, anyway – by shifting her (whatever was surrounding and creating her form) one way or the other. So, little by little, she managed to turn (face) upward to view the ceiling, then backed up, that is to say, down, toward the bed and her dead body.

It felt cold and clammy. And scary!

When she could think again, Vicky found she was hovering above the bed, like before. 'Well, this sucks; I must really be dead!'

'Yes, it would seem so, ' a voice spoke into her head.

"Who said that?" Vicky cried out, startled. "Who's there?"

'I'm your spirit guide, ' the voice replied, still speaking in her mind. Vicky was able to discern a large, fuzzy form attached to or hanging from the ceiling several feet away from her.

"Why are you here?" she asked, directing her question at the almost invisible form. "Are you supposed to take me to the 'other side' or something?"

'I am not permitted to take you anywhere from within these walls, ' the guide informed her. 'For me to guide you, you must be willing to leave this life behind, and be able to relocate yourself outside this mansion – on your own.'

"Why?" Vicky asked. "What's so special about this place?"

'It is not within my... ' the spirit guide seemed to sigh with frustration, and perhaps was a bit nervous, as well, then it continued, 'my jurisdiction.'

"You're not allowed in here?" Vicky laughed, thinking that now she'd heard just about everything. "Who is here to stop you? You're a ghost!"

'The Destroyer would stop me, ' admitted the guide, 'especially if I take you from within these walls.'

Vicky was starting to feel annoyed, now. Why was this ... thing ... bothering her if he/she/it wasn't willing to help? It said it was a spirit guide. She'd never heard of ... Oh, yeah! Her grandmother used to talk about stuff like that. She closed her ... put her attention inward ... to see what memories she could reach about spirit guides.

'There's something there... ' she thought, trying to pinpoint the tiny bit of seeming vacuum at the edge of her awareness, then she saw...