What If...
Disclaimer (sort of): Okay, now I just came upon the strangest bit of knowledge. I know now for a fact that there's a fanfic in existance entitled "What If The Night Never Ended And The Day Never Came?" which deals exactly what I was dallying on in this story. I read the title but that told NOTHING of what could have been included within. I read the summary just last night when I received my Dark Shadows mail. I was somewhat shocked as usually I can perceive, albeit infrequently, what can be, whether in life or fiction (or fanfiction, for that matter:):). Any resemblance of this story to the other is merely coincidence. DS is not mine but the ideas written herein are. All I can say to the author of that other story is, "Hey! Great minds think alike!" With that all out in the open, enjoy the story and I promise I'll take you down different roads then that of the other.... If only I could get my hands on that book now... :):)
It was dark, though no where near quiet. The miscellaneous night dwelling animals hunted about for their prey with relative ease... As a man slumped drunkenly against an oak tree in the cemetary. This one was Willie Loomis, servant of Barnabas and Josette Collins and far from sober at the moment. For now he drowned his sorrows deep in the bottle of a vodka tonic to wash away any unpleasant imagery the past few weeks had instilled in him. He took a swig of the liquid, feeling the burn as it passed into him. But that wasn't the only burn he felt. The sensation that rot within him, that forced him to repeat utterly horrifying recollections was uncontrollable and set his very being aflame from the inside out. Willie shut his eyes as his mind wandered uncontrollably to that dreadful night...
"Willie!"
He heard her scream and his heart raced. In opening the front door he had planned to flee the scene for a while in order to distance himself from the hell that was to occur tonight. But distinctly he'd heard her call his name and he raced down to the basement. But his attempt at rescue came too little too late. Time seemed to stop in the instant of his arrival. Standing on the stairs unmoving, his chest heaving, he faced a scene of horrific magnitude. Before him, Barnabas Collins held the lifeless form of Maggie Evans. A wave of anger swept over Willie, clouding his better judgement and he ran to the two, pushing Barnabas aside and taking Maggie into his own arms.
"Maggie!" he cried, his heart pumping wildly in his chest.
Her neck was splattered with her own blood and there was a gaping wound upon it. He embraced her limp body sadly then turned to Barnabas.
"I hate you!" Willie proclaimed, exuding intense hatred, "Damn you, Barnabas! I hate you!!"
The steaming emotion was reciprocated entirely.
Barnabas glared at him,
"I assure you, boy, the feeling is mutual."
The evil man before him glowered and looked more than willing to wage battle between them. For the question in Barnabas' mind was not that of why his servant should sympathize with Maggie but why he should do so profusely... and then shed tears bountifully in consequence of her passing. In this instance he assumed the worst...and that was betrayel.
"I should kill you now." Barnabas snarled, then thought that over, "But it would not serve me in the least if I did away with you."
Willie was out of his mind, out of control.
"I will not serve you at all!" he shouted harshly.
"You fool!"
The master strode towards his servant quickly and before a reaction could be made, his hands were placed firmly around Willie's throat. He relished in the sight of his betrayer as he struggled for breath. In mere seconds, Willie's relatively short life flashed before him and he could just hear his life thread just waiting to be cut...