Simon Green - From Hell with love

That's what you get for being merciful. Ungrateful little scrote. I jumped up, punched him out, leapt over his falling body, and raced out of the lecture hall while the general cry of outrage from within was still building. I ran down the hallway, and already doors were opening everywhere, with angry Immortals spilling out. I could hear more of them fighting each other to get out of the lecture hall and get after me. They sounded like they wanted my blood, and weren't too fussy how they got it. I pounded down a side corridor, and Immortals appeared from everywhere, in front and behind me. So I squeezed the ring on my finger, and made a duplicate of myself. And then both of me squeezed my rings, and there were four of me.

The sudden rush of extra sensory input would have been overwhelming, but all I had to concentrate on was running. And every time I came to a corner, or a turning point, all of me chose different directions. I couldn't keep track of who was who, or which had been the original me, so I just kept on running. It seemed like every Immortal in the Castle was after me now, numbers beyond counting, so every time I came to a corner or a change in direction, I made more of me. Soon there was a crowd of me, running and running full pelt, back and forth, up and down the Castle. It was all just a blur of stone walls, narrow corridors, and screaming angry faces wherever I looked. I ran and ran, lost in the crowd of me, losing all track of where and who I was. Dozens of me, running endlessly, running blindly, swamped by too many details, maddened by my own chattering thoughts and impulses, driving me in a hundred different directions at once.

I ran on, lost in myself, everywhere at once, unable to concentrate on anything. Immortals jumped me, hit me, dragged me down, over and over, and I fought back, lashing out at everyone who wasn't me. I couldn't think, couldn't plan, lost in the horror of endlessly branching possibilities, lost in the crowd, lost… I panicked, and called all of me back into myself.

Suddenly there was just me, alone in my head, and it felt good, so good. I stumbled to a halt, as I struggled to assimilate a whole host of conflicting memories. I leaned against a cold stone wall, breathing harshly, sweat running down my face, trembling from exhaustion, and other things. A terribly personal nightmare, to be drowning in a sea of you, your very identity diluted by duplication… I shuddered, and forced the memories back until I was just me again. I looked around, and found I was back down in the dungeons under the Castle, outside the computer rooms.

Presumably because it was the one place I thought I knew best. I shook my head. I'd been so confused I hadn't even thought to armour up, and protect myself from the various attacks my various selves had experienced. Though I had to wonder… each of me must have had a torc, but what would have happened if I'd tried to call up so much strange matter at once, enough for dozens of suits of armour? This was all getting really complicated… and quite definitely a problem for another day. I had eight hours to stop Methuselah from getting to Area 52, then get there myself and stop anyone from opening the Apocalypse Door.

I checked myself for damage, but I didn't seem to have taken any, even though I could clearly remember being hit and attacked any number of times… I could only assume the sheer number of me I'd made had diluted the effects, when they all slammed back into me. Could have been worse; I could have ended up with all the damage that all of me had taken, expressed in the one body. Nasty.

I smiled slightly as I took in the state of the computer room, with its torn steel shutters and kicked-out door. I really had made a mess of the place, the last time I was here. The guard I'd taken out was still slumped unconscious in his chair. But, I couldn't hide out here for long. I had a lot to do… The mission was escalating wildly out of control, so many players… Doctor Delirium, Tiger Tim, Methuselah, all with their own different plans for the Apocalypse Door… All I could be sure of was that I had to get to Area 52 in a hurry, before somebody did something we'd all regret.

I heard footsteps approaching. So I slipped into the security booth, and knelt down beside the unconscious security guard, hidden in the shadows. The footsteps kept coming, just the one person, calm and unhurried. Not someone chasing me. But once they saw the state of the trashed computer room, they'd know I'd been here. I'd have to wait for the right moment, then jump out and strike them down before they could cry out. I raised my head cautiously, and looked down the corridor.

And there, coming towards me, was Molly Metcalf.

I stayed very still, crouched in the shadows, and watched silently as Molly came to a halt before the computer room. She looked at the damage, and her mouth twitched briefly, in a smile I knew all too well. Undamaged, unhurt, utterly perfect, my Molly. My heart hammered in my chest, and I couldn't move, paralysed by surging emotions. Wanting to believe, not daring to hope. My chest was hitching silently, and tears burned in my eyes. It could be her, she could be… I wanted to run out and run up to her, and hold her in my arms and never ever let her go, but I didn't. I couldn't. Because in this rotten and corrupt Castle, not everything was always as it seemed, and not everyone was who they seemed to be. You couldn't trust a face. Not here. This could be an Immortal, pretending to be my poor dead Molly, to bring me out into the open. After all, how could Molly, my Molly, have survived such terrible wounds? I saw the blades slam into her, again and again, saw her blood spill… My hands were clenched so hard they hurt, and I could hardly get my breath, but I couldn't look away.

I stayed where I was, and watched her silently as she stepped casually over the torn steel shutters, entered the computer room and looked around her. Even though I ached to go to her, I held myself still, because I had a duty to my family. I couldn't afford to get caught, not with the safety of all Humanity riding on me, and yet… I had to be sure. I needed to be sure. Molly pulled up a chair and sat down before the computers, still open and running from where I'd left in a hurry. It occurred to me that I was still wearing the face and body of a teenage Immortal… So I stood up abruptly, and strode into the computer room. Molly glared at me, without getting up.

"What do you want?" she said. It was her voice, it was…

"Shouldn't that be my line?" I said. "What are you doing here?"

She gave me a hard withering stare that would have worked on anyone else. "Stay out of this, and don't get in my way. I have work to do. And I'm just in the mood to kick the crap out of any Immortal who gets in my way."

I took a chance. "You're not one of us," I said. "You're not an Immortal."

"Damn right I'm not," said Molly Metcalf, and my heart leapt in my chest. She looked me over, and sniffed loudly. "I wouldn't be a teenager again for all the chocolate in the world. I'm here on my own business, and if you're wise you won't interfere. I'm looking for records of the deal I made with you people, all those years ago, when I was making all kinds of unwise agreements, in return for power. I'm here to destroy all the files with my name on them; my little way of saying I wash my hands of the whole pack of you. I'm a good girl now, and I can't have any evidence to the contrary left in unfriendly hands."

"You were never one of us?" I said. "Never worked for us? You knew nothing about the infiltration of the Droods?"

"Of course not! I wouldn't work for scum like you; hell, I haven't exchanged two words with any of you since we made our deal. I do have standards. And all the promises I had to make, in return for power, were all used up years ago. I don't owe you scumbags anything, especially after you nearly killed me in the Hall. Oh yes, I know that was you. I should kill you all, for what you've done. But I don't have the time, right now. So run away, little Immortal, before I turn you into something distressing."