MULDER THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
Round Four, Part Two

It was rather difficult to admit that Mulder was right. Scully had started her inquiries skeptically, yet by the time she realized that she had missed her sleep for the past thirty-six hours, that sentiment had changed into amazement and wonder. Everything was beyond any logical explanation, and it bugged the hell out of her.

It got worse when she couldn't reach Mulder anywhere.

When Skinner also suddenly skipped work without any apparent reason at all, every bad thought in her head found a fertile ground. She had spent her time in anxiety, confusion, and, strangely enough, disappointment. Somehow, Skinner's and Mulder's disappearance connected, and some tiny part in her head had believed that they had abandoned her on purpose. That was why when finally Mulder contacted her, she couldn't help lashing out her helpless anger.

"I don't know if it's me who's going mad or the world turned into the Twilight Zone, Mulder, but unless you give me a good reason, I refuse to budge out from my office. For your information, I'm ready to formally request a thorough team to work on this case, which may or may not include you in it! This is *big* Mulder, and you can't expect yourself working without following proper procedures. Not if *I* am your partner. Did you know that Skinner was also missing?"

"Scully, I'm dying."

Scully was speechless for a long moment. Her heart skipped a beat, while her brain turned fast. //What does he mean *dying*? Is this another prank of him? He doesn't sound like dying... but... his desperation sounds... genuine//.

"Don't joke, Mulder."

She heard her partner sighed heavily, and knew instantly that he wasn't really dying. Her anger spiked again. "Mulder... "

"Look. I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that... But Scully, please. I need your help. Yes, this situation is part of the missing puzzle. So I'm not stealing your precious time over nothing. Please."

"Skinner..."

"I know where Skinner is, Scully. Come on. Trust me on this."

She knew she was lost. What more could she say? Despite herself, she was desperate for every possible explanation, and Mulder was the only one plausible in providing the needed answers. But still, she hated it when her new partner started doing all those weird things.

It was as if this man was born to be her curse. Everything he did and happened to him were just too strange. And now, she got pulled into the man's orbit and sucked into his damn universe, which meant nothing would be normal for her ever again as well.

Two hours later, Scully found herself inside one of the most prestigious and well-hidden gated communities in Virginia, and gaped with amazement at the towering mansion which was supposed to be her destination. What the hell her partner had done this time?

A man in a perfect manner of old-fashioned English butler greeted her. He led her toward the main apartment on the second story coldly and disinterestedly.

"Knock on the bedroom door to announce your arrival. Master is waiting for you," the man nodded politely and quickly turned away.

Scully took a moment to study her surroundings, wondering which bedroom door the man had instructed her to knock on. There were doors around what appeared to be the apartment's living room. Then she heard tiny voices behind one of the doors and hesitatingly rapped her knuckles on it.

"Mulder?"

The door opened abruptly, revealing Mulder's pale and frowning face. "Scully!" he greeted her with obvious relief. "Did you bring your bag? Good. Come on, you'd better help Finn."

//Finn?//

Immediately Scully saw a very beautiful, yet familiar face, huddling in pain on the bed. She recognized him instantly.

"Rock singer, Mulder?" she raised one of her eyebrows. "Must be quite an adventure."

"His side was torn." Mulder gently moved Riley Finn's body into a sitting position and made himself his leaning post without any hint of awkwardness. "He stopped bleeding somehow." Mulder decided not to mention the swarm of vampires they'd narrowly avoided to keep the red-haired agent focused on Finn.

Scully saw Riley's face drenched in sweat, yet strangely so closed and frozen, as if the man suddenly built a shield around him and stopped reacting. She touched his face and hissed in surprised to find his skin so cold.

"Mulder?"

"He's been like this for sometime," Mulder said helplessly. "I really don't know why. I've tried to tend on his wound, but he just simply stopped communicating with me."

Together they tried to pry open Finn's frozen fingertips, which were hovering protectively over his wound.

"It stopped bleeding mysteriously," Mulder tried to explain, watching Scully's frown darken. "How is it, Scully?"

"When was the time he got hurt?" Scully asked, eyes shone strangely.

"Three hours ago, I think. Why?"

Scully looked thoughtful. She took out bandages from her bag and glanced at Mulder with a strange expression. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd never believe you."

Mulder frowned. "Why?"

Scully gently dabbed antiseptic on Finn's wound and wrapped it securely with bandages.

"Scully?"

"It's healing, Mulder."

Mulder stared at her in disbelief. "Pardon me?"

"It's healing. Healing like a week-old wound. Think again, Mulder. Are you sure you aren't lying, this time?"

"A *week-old* wound?" Mulder looked incredulous. "I'll be damned!"

"Is he one of those *vampires* you've been chasing around? Those creatures are able to self-heal themselves, right?"

Mulder stared at the frozen face with wonder. "No. No, he isn't."

Scully sighed, "Then what is he? Apparently, he's not a normal human being."

Mulder looked half amused. "Well, how 'bout that? The next thing you know, everybody isn't what they are supposed to be."

*********

"Where did you find him?" Scully slowly sipped on her coffee. The butler had come in with a tray of drinks and sandwiches and disappeared again disinterestedly. The man did not even glance toward his pitiful master, sleeping -- if one could say that -- comatosely in the company of two strangers.

"*He* was the one finding me," Mulder answered morosely. "Apparently, he's supposed to be one of my...*helpers*..."

Scully studied Finn's face and couldn't help herself. She smiled. "Some helpers, you've got, Mulder. Those exotic men coming out from nowhere and falling directly into your lap."

Mulder opened his mouth, ready to blabber about Alex Krycek and how right her insights were, when he realized that Scully couldn't possibly know anything about his new lover yet. He quickly stopped himself.

"What's going on?" Scully leaned forward, her face serious and full of concern.

Mulder sighed. It looked like he had to tell her about everything, including Alex, after all. So he told her in the most simplified and understated way possible. Still, when he finished his story, his partner looked at him in her typical 'I-don't-believe-you-because-you're-delusional-and-there-has-to-be-more-logical-explanations-of-this' way.

"So where is this Alex now?" she asked curtly, feeling strangely disappointed for Mulder's 'choice of lovers'.

"He's with Skinner, stranded in that motel, trying to clear things up."

"Do you believe that guy?"

Mulder looked torn between anger and sheepish confusion. "Of course! Surely he won't harm Skinner..."

"Yet they haven't contacted you for the past three hours," Scully cut in.

Mulder sighed. "I'm not exactly communicable." He glanced toward his dead cell-phone.

"Have you tried calling Skinner's apartment?"

"He wasn't there, Scully. And he *shouldn't* be there, because that'll be the first place Keiron would look for him."

"So you're here without the two of them knowing it, and you're not so sure about their fates either?"

Mulder bit his bottom lip. "Honestly, Scully. I don't really have any plausible plan at the moment."

"You know, if anything happens to Skinner..."

"Help me a bit, now, Scully. Don't scold me over things beyond my control."

Scully's face hardened immediately. "Remember, Mulder, we're a team."

"No," Mulder said defiantly. "I am a Slayer. This has *nothing* to do with you. I'm supposed to be on my own. Maybe with Skinner, because he's my Watcher. But not with you. We're partners on a *case*, not in this matter."

"*This* is the *case*, Mulder. Don't you remember? It became *our* case the moment Marcus Wyatt was killed, then almost got me attacked by a vampire, which led me to know you as the Slayer. It became *our* case once you decided to incorporate this... this 'vampire-ship' angle to the serial murders *we're* investigating. Don't tell me that I'm not supposed to be involved in this."

Mulder looked at her rather sheepishly. "Well... when you put it that way...."

"Don't smart-ass me, Mulder," Scully snorted. She took her bag and pulled out a thick folder.

"What's that?" Mulder quickly opened the folder.

"Those investigations you asked me to do." Scully took one paper out from the folder and showed it to Mulder.

"This is the summary of my findings on the victims' post-mortems. Beside Marcus Wyatt, I also dug up information on similar cases. It turned out that these kinds of cases have happened for the last ten years. Yet, it was the past two years that the numbers were alarmingly increasing."

"How do you hone on the criteria of 'similar'?"

"Well, these victims are all male. Mostly between late teens to early forties. All strangely losing blood, though physical wounds may differ one to another. Simply said, the narrowing criteria was... 'victims of bloodsucking'."

Mulder gave her his patented sardonic grin. "Well said, Scully."

Scully nodded. "Actually, victims of this particular M.O. weren't always male. There were females, and much older victims. But that happened pretty rare, and only occurred during the early nineties. Recent cases show the victims becoming more and more similar in features."

"Vampire population in DC ten years ago was tiny. They fed on their victims more tediously too. No trace, and pick on a really obscured and unnoticeable victims. There were plenty of bloodsucking victims, Scully. But since most of them are hobos and illegal immigrants, I'm not surprised there aren't records on them."

Scully sighed, "Where were you when you're needed?"

"I'm still a baby ten years ago," Mulder smirked. "What's your analysis on these recent victims, Scully?"

"As I said, I honed on their physical features, and there's a one hundred percent confidence that those bearing these features were murdered for the past two years. Do you know how many are they, Mulder? *Thirty*. No wonder this office had been pretty tight-lipped. Thirty unexplained murders with the same M.O.s?"

"Which went directly into the X-Files division." Mulder snorted. "That simple, huh? Unexplainable, then it become the X-Files' people's responsibility. Sounds like the big boys wanted to clean their hands."

"As I said, those victims share common features. Male, attractive, and in prime age. I dug further and found that forty percent of them were gay, twenty percent heterosexuals, and the rest bisexuals. All single and had active sex-lives bordering on promiscuous."

"The 'happy baits', eh?" Mulder curled his lips. "Got picked up from clubs, parties, orgies..."

"Yes. Sex seems to be the ultimate tool to get them. Ninety percent of them showed recent sexual encounters before their death."

"No signs on their partners? Bodily fluids? DNA?"

"Mysteriously so. Either there's no trace of them, or that if there were, purely unrecognizable."

"Some of the vampires are *that* old, Scully. I'm sure many of them don't have records on their fingerprints, not to mention sperm samples and dental profiles!"

Scully gave him a mock glare. "You know, it's not healthy if you get the conclusion first then took a retracting steps through the facts. You compromise your analysis and judgments."

"What's more to say? They are all vampires victims! You said it yourself, 'bloodsucking victims'. All those facts about the killer's unrecognizable traces are just supporting facts on a very clear and accurate conclusion. Come on. Sometime you just have to jump on it, no matter how bizarre it is, Scully."

"Whatever, Mulder," Scully sighed. "I admit that your scenario was pretty intriguing at the time."

"Ha!" Mulder smiled. "I am right, aren't I?"

"Well, it seemed that way. Your insistence that these were vampire victims led me to one hypothesis. Okay. Picture yourself as a vampire. What kind of sense that you're using primarily to choose your victims?'

"Smell," Mulder said promptly. "Like people choosing their meal. It's the smell they are using first to narrow their choices."

"I got in line with that thought." Scully nodded. "Borrowing from the idea of pheromones as a bait for sexual courtship, I did a thorough DNA testing."

"Great!" Mulder smiled widely. "What did you find?"

"Interesting enough, my DNA testing shows that these people share an even deeper similarity."

"Let me guess," Mulder said. "They relate to one another?"

Scully gave him a surprise look. "How the hell do you know that?"

Mulder bit his lip again, feeling his excitement bubbling up to the surface. "Tell me, Scully. Tell me how *close* they relate to one another. One generation? Two generations? Three? Or maybe four?"

"It isn't easy to decide that, Mulder. All I can say is that, yes, they somehow relate to one another. Some of them are close enough, some aren't. The closest ones are a pair of siblings. But just one pair, mind you. I can't conclude with the rest of them."

"Give me a more exact prediction, Scully. A range. What is the farthest relation you can come up with?"

"Well..."

"How about one great-great grandfather. Close enough?"

"It isn't easy to guess, Mulder."

"Okay, great-great-great grandfather. That's like six generations lineage. Close enough?"

"Yeah... well... I can accept that."

Mulder's eyes shone brightly. "Six, maybe seven generations, Scully. How many years that would cover?"

"Four, five hundred, maybe?"

"Five hundred," Mulder nodded. "That's the magic number."

"Mulder?"

"Now I understand completely."

"What's on your mind?"

"It's a personal vendetta, Scully. This isn't random hunting after all. This is *personal*."

"I don't get what you mean."

"Somehow, these vampires are trained, or maybe *molded* into hunters with specific preys in mind. And what kind of prey? Those who somehow relate to one another, which maybe descendants of someone who probably lived five hundred years ago. Someone who had made an enemy with a vampire that sired all of those new vampires flocking DC these days."

"I wonder who..."

"Forget about wanting to find that dead great-great-great grandfather of those victims. That's simply just impossible. The most plausible thing is, to find the vampire whom was the culprit of these personal vendetta."

"How?"

"Simple. Age. That vampire had to be at least five hundred years old."

"I'm not sure there's only one vampire that fits into that category."

"Then we use the second criteria. The one capable and powerful enough to 'father' all of those new vampires, or 'infect' their reinfelds, with similar tastes that suddenly rampage Washington DC for the past two years."

Scully stared at Mulder with awe.

"I suppose you have someone in mind," she whispered.

Mulder's eyes were extremely bright, and his face was strangely glowing. "Yes," he said. "I know who he is."

Then he smiled bitterly. "Now we need to find out about the story behind these victims' predators."

Suddenly, a rushing noise was heard from behind them. Both Scully and Mulder jumped in surprise, and turned quickly, only to find Riley Finn sitting up, his face flushed in a healthy color, body completely healed as if he wasn't hurt before.

"Finn!" Mulder shouted, while Scully gasped loudly behind him. "You... you're..."

"I'm healed, yes," Finn said. "And I heard everything both of you said."

"How... how could it be...?" Scully began to tremble in shock. It's impossible, but it was true. Riley Finn was completely healed. The bandage she was applying before had been peeled off, showing the unblemished skin beneath it.

"There's so many things to explain," Finn sighed. "But I must admit, Mulder, you have a very sharp insight. Now, all you have to do is to listen to the rest of the story."

**************

In the meantime, somewhere across the city.

There was something menacingly disturbing about the silence surrounding the two men inside the taxicab. Skinner was sweating and fidgeting nervously, his body as tense as coils ready to spring. The fact that Alex Krycek's stoic, statuesque form was extremely intimidating worsened the already terrible image of what he really was in Skinner's perception. Skinner simply just didn't know what to do or how to react to Krycek, and he was beyond desperation in wishing the vampire would just disappear.

"What the fuck should we do about finding Mulder?" Skinner finally asked, a bit angrily. "The man didn't try to recharge his cell phone's battery for the past few hours."

Krycek did not reply for a long time. His extreme silence didn't disguise his obvious worry over Mulder, yet somehow Skinner sensed that there were other things boiling in the man's mind that disturbed him like hell.

Finally, the vampire answered, "I'll find him."

Skinner clenched his teeth furiously. "Yes, I can share the sentiment. But *how*?"

Krycek glanced at him coldly. "Why should I tell you? I don't need you to follow me around."

Feeling his jaw drop, there were jumble of emotions flitting through Skinner in just a fraction of second. There was surprise, incredulousness, and most of all, annoyance.

"What the hell are you talking about? It was *you* who suggested us to go together."

"Not to find Fox," Krycek's tone was calm. "There's a very pressing matter of finishing our business. The sooner it wraps up, the sooner I can start finding your Slayer."

Skinner's face hardened immediately. "*Our* business? What's that supposed to mean?"

Krycek didn't answer.

"Krycek," Skinner hissed. "I never trusted you. If you're selling me out..."

"You don't scare me at all, Watcher. So stop trying to threathen me." Krycek smirked. "And no, I'm not selling you out to Keiron, if that's what you're worried about. We're going to solve that particular issue, actually."

Skinner threw both hands in the air with frustration, then folded them on his chest helplessly. A complete surrender. He stared out of the window, watching the streetlights faded slowly behind them.

"My life is at your mercy, then," he said quietly.

"Yes," Krycek nodded. "And there isn't anything that you can do about it."

Skinner slowly turned around. "I need to know where you stand," he swallowed thickly, then continued heavily, "Please."

Krycek's eyes were bright when he answered simply, "Mulder."

"Excuse me?"

"He's the anchor. Everything I did was for Mulder's sake."

Skinner watched him thoughtfully. "Why?"

Krycek only smiled.

Then the complete silence descended again for sometime, until the moment when Krycek leaned forward and tapped on the glass behind the driver's head. "Turn left."

Skinner went still. He looked around, and realized that they were now entering a deserted, huge area of empty warehouses.

"Where are we going?"

"Meeting someone you know."

Skinner thought that it was impossible to hope that the *person-he-knew* was his 'good-side' acquaintance. He just knew that he didn't trust Krycek and the vampire was about to make his life into some sort of hell. Yet, he couldn't believe his eyes when the cab stopped in front of a well lit warehouse where several familiar men were standing and waiting for them.

"I'll be damned," Skinner whispered.

They were the whole members of senior Watcher's Council.

Getting out of the cab in puzzlement, Skinner walked briskly toward the huddling men, all staring at him in unreadable faces.

"Skinner." One of them stepped forward and nodded to him.

"Sir," Skinner swallowed uneasily. "He is..."

"We know who he is," he cut in. Skinner watched the senior members nodding politely to Krycek one by one, and realized that the annoyance and disturbance he had been feeling for sometime was now turning into a cold knot of fear.

His seniors and this unusual vampire were acquainted?

Why? Who was Alex Krycek exactly?

This was beyond his comprehension.

"What's going on?" he finally found his voice. Yet, he was ignored.

Instead, Krycek told them, "Watch this," and turned his sharp stare to Skinner.

It came without warning. Inistinctively Skinner thought that if he knew that this was about to happen, he shouldn't stare back to Krycek. The minute he caught Krycek's eyes, he felt like the air was suddenly sucked out into nothing.

He gasped violently, feeling his heart hammmering, screaming in terror, his chest expanding painfully, panicking with the sudden, painful suffocation that felt like ripping his soul apart. And then.... everything blurred... and....

//No! Not again!//

The pain... the helplessness...

//PLEASE!//

Then suddenly a flash exploded before his eyes, and Skinner blinked to find himself sitting on the ground, gasping and convulsing desperately like a dying, flopping fish. Wind blew strongly on his face, pushing him to breath greedily, washing out the maddening panic, fear, and pain he had just experienced instantly.

Somehow, he knew this was Krycek's doing. "You sonofabitch!" Skinner hissed toward Krycek. "What the hell is this?"

There was something menacing in how Krycek returned his stare. "I had no choice," the vampire said in a low, dangerous tone. "This is for Mulder."

Trembling, Skinner got up, anxiously watching the still unreadable faces of his seniors. All stoic and still in their respective spots, clearly doing nothing while he was experiencing the... the...

What had happened? What had he just *done* a little while ago?

"Sir...," Skinner gulped. The fear was now blown up into its fullest.

"You've seen it now." It was Krycek whose voice rang clear and sharp. "He was a vampire's renfield. And a strongly attached one. I'm not his master, yet, he couldn't resist my call. You can imagine how incapacitated he'd be when it was his true master who did it."

//OH MY GOD!//

"No," Skinner whispered with true fear now. He watched Krycek with disbelief. "No. You can't... You can't possibly do this!"

"He should rest his Watcher's status and be exhiled completely," Krycek said, ignoring him completely. "He's a danger to all of his fellow Watchers, not to mention to the one he should've been *watching*."

"Krycek!" Skinner shouted. Then quickly turned toward the Council, and plead his final denial. "Sir! No! You can't possibly do this!"

But what more could he do? Obviously the 'trick' Krycek had been performing was very convincing, because...

//Oh, God!//

... even Skinner himself knew that he couldn't resist it. And he always knew how fatal it would be if it was Keiron...

Of course Krycek was right.

He was a liability.

Skinner didn't need to look at the Council's faces to know what was on their minds. He slumped dejectedly. When his eyes found Krycek again, it was full of defeat and helpless acceptance.

"Why this?" he asked.

Krycek's face remarkably softened. Suddenly, there was gentleness. And pity.

"I can't kill you, and Mulder will be angry if I made you my renfield," he said. "But Mulder thinks that you're precious. So, this is the only way to ensure that you'll be out completely from Mulder's life. You're dangerous to him. I'm sure you understand the sentiment."

Then the vampire turned slowly toward the waiting men. "He's all yours, gentlemen."

************

Manus slowly lit the candles in front of his secret altar. He had just finished lighting the last one when a sudden cold wind blew inside the room. He smiled.

"Now that's what I call 'express' delivery," he said.

The demon Frohike popped up in front of the ancient Druid priest and shook his head in amusement. "You never change, Manus. To what do I owe the pleasure for seeing you again?"

Manus glanced at him. "Don't be ridiculous. You know why I summon you."

"My principle is still the same," Frohike answered. "No interference."

"Yet, you nurture a 'handyman' to do all the dirty work."

Frohike laughed. "Alex Krycek did it and volunteered for it based on noble reasons, Manus. And what do you mean about 'nurturing a handyman'? Look who's talking."

Manus sighed. "And that, my friend, is why we eventually need to interfere anyway. I suppose you're aware that my Finn is now accompanying the Slayer. Separately, they are quite trouble-magnets, so you can imagine when the both of them combine their 'attractiveness'."

"It isn't wise for Finn to meet Krycek, Manus. They have all the genetic traits to be completely incompatible to one another. Despite everything, Krycek still has Spender's leftover 'molding'. There is a faint instinct of him to attack all of Darion's descendants, and Finn isn't just a pure Dariones, he's pretty much a reincarnation of him."

Manus didn't say anything.

Frohike looked at him thoughtfully. "And that's why you love that young man, don't you? Because he's a true carbon copy of the late Darion?"

Manus smiled faintly. "My dear demon, you know *everything*. But there isn't anything else we can do. By now, Mulder will realize that Spender has started genocide on Dariones' descendants, and noticed that Finn was one of them. I had my hand in protecting Finn, by changing him into some sort of Immortal, but that won't be enough. If I could, I had him hidden somewhere in an isolated island. But Finn is Finn, and I can't really interfere, like you do. Mulder is the only one who can protect him."

"Aren't you aware of the possible outcome? Finn is a Dariones, Krycek was one of Spender's strongest soldiers that was equipped with an instinct to annihilate all Dariones, and Mulder..."

Manus waited for Frohike to finish, but the demon left it at that.

"Frohike, we can rewrite history. Do you know that?" he said softly. "Everything is coming exactly like what happened five hundred years ago, though I sensed that Evil was now much stronger than before. But we can still win... *without* direct interference."

The demon chuckled. "There is just no way to stop you, is there, Manus? So. Tell me what we should do now."

"Let them all be together because the Old Odin's Manuscript is in Mulder's hand now," Manus said. "You have to do everything to ensure your Krycek won't harm my Finn. After all of this is finished, let nature do their thing. Let Mulder choose whether it's Finn or Krycek who'll be his soulmate."

"What if Mulder picks Finn?"

Manus grinned, "Then I'll join them and the three of us will live happily ever after."

Frohike snorted. "As if that would happen! Then I'll do everything to ensure Krycek wins his true love in the end."

"Oooh... that'll be fun, Frohike. That'll be fun."

*****

"I don't understand why I'm not allowed to go!" Keiron shouted angrily.

Spender gazed at the agitated vampire coldly. "Because you never use your head."

"What the hell!? Krycek got me in my weakness. I'm not *ready*. The next time, I'll be ready and can kill him!"

"That, young one, will never happen," Spender's tone was sharp as brittles. "Do you think I don't know that you still love Krycek?"

"NO! That's not true!"

"Speaking like a human in denial. I *read* your mind, Keiron."

The young vampire's angry face contorted. It looked like he was about to cry in fury.

"There'll be time when you can chase the Watcher around, or vent out your jealous anger on Krycek later on. But you *stay* here! I'm going to need you here."

"Just don't let that Xanax touch me again."

Spender looked at him patiently. "My boy, giving him pleasure is one of your jobs."

Keiron bit his lip. His narrowing eyes burned. "What's that Slayer to you? Why is everybody wanting him? He doesn't even look that pretty to me!"

Spender sighed. "Shut up, Keiron."

"Alex fell in love with him when that guy was only ten years old," Keiron sniffed. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. I thought that he'd get over it. But then... he started following Mulder around when he was finally called to be the Ultimate Slayer."

"I can't blame him," Spender said quietly. "It was fate."

He turned around to look at Keiron and started talking in some foreign language.

"What's that?" Keiron raised his eyebrows.

"It's an old Druid citing."

"What's that mean?"

"It means 'and the true Slayer will triumph over love and mortality, and be Death's bridesmaid to reawaken humanity, rejoice mankind and bring out paradise to us all'..."

Keiron snorted, "I suppose Death is you?"

Spender shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe not. But then again.... all of us are Death, aren't we?"

*****

Beth's next!