She spent the next few days in the usual routine of lectures from Tompkins. This, as usual, would mean being the brunt of his rage when something didn't go exactly the way he'd wanted, or if she showed the least bit of hesitation at something he demanded of her. All too often, either of these situations would lead to his punishing her again, in some painful and degrading way.

She tried to avoid angering him, of course, only because it was safer, but sometimes her own sense of right and wrong rebelled too strongly against the things he forced her to do. Ethics and morals meant absolutely nothing whatsoever to Tompkins, she knew that only too well. That, however, meant that he didn't expect them to mean anything to her either, which only made it even harder for her to bear. Not that he much cared about that; her feelings had never meant anything to him in the first place. It always had to be his way or no way.

It was normal for him to be angry at the least little thing not going his way. However, during these last few weeks, since losing first his own magic, then Christine herself, he had become a thousand times worse. Donna wouldn't have believed that that was possible, if she wasn't seeing it for herself, firsthand. Living with him now was much the same, if not even worse, than it had been living with Christine while Tompkins had been away. The best analogies she could come up with were walking on eggs; or better yet, what it might be like to live on the edge of a volcano that could erupt at any moment.

She thought briefly oftrying to escape again, but discarded the idea almost immediately. That was something she simply couldn't risk, not again, not after what had happened the last two times. She was still having nightmares about poor Kate Parker, and didn't want to be the cause of suffering for someone else.

Even though Tompkins wouldn't now be able to change anyone into some sort of part-animal creature in the way he'd done to Kate, there were other things he still could do, especially to her mother. There were a million other ways to ruin people's lives that didn't involve using magic; Donna knew that only too well. Blackmail, for one. She'd seen Tompkins using that too many times; he was definitely a master at that. She was also terrified of what Tompkins might do to her this time; after how he'd punished her for both of the last two attempts, what he might be provoked into doing if she made a third attempt didn't bear contemplating. Christine's transport device meant that she could still end up being sent back to the slave market.

The day finally came when he summoned Donna to the basement. When she entered, she saw that the room had been decorated in the style of some medieval dungeon. The electric lights had been made to resemble torches, and there were chains and wrist clamps on the walls, which had been covered in gray stone bricks, much like those making up the walls of real ancient castles . She shivered; this was so very much like the room in her dream of Tompkins and Christine as vampires as to send chills through her. If she hadn't known he didn't have any magic of his own anymore, she'd have suspected him of 'tuning in' on her dreams. She shook her head and made herself pay attention before he noticed she wasn't.

"It is time for the first move in the plan, Donna." Tompkins said. "Now, my enemies will begin to learn the error of their ways. I have now decided which of them to bring here first. It will be the Myles family, as well as Mr. Lein and Miss Ross. Those five should be more than enough to force the cooperation of the rest." he said, with his usual deadly assurance. "The others will, of course, not wish to risk harm to these five, so they will cooperate, or else."

Once again Donna wished she knew some way to wipe that smug look off his face. He'd lost confrontations twice already; the first time had cost him both his magic and Tracy Hannah, the second had cost him Christine How could he still be so sure he'd eventually win? she wondered.

That answer came far too easily. He always did, sooner or later. He'd even said it himself. "A battle is not the war, Donna. They may think me defeated by their small successes now, but they will be the ones who fall in the end. Even you have come to learn that. Eventually, you will not want it to be any other way. Neither will they." he chuckled again. "You will be amazed at what people can be taught to accept, even to crave, given sufficient time, and sufficient incentives.\rdblquote

Donna felt sick at the thought of what he meant by 'incentive'. She knew only too well it'd most likely involve rape and torture, at the very least. The 'or else' he'd used earlier...that, too, wasn't the least bit reassuring. She knew far too much about Tompkins' ways by now for that. He always seemed to come up with some new way of making people suffer for having what he would call the 'presumption' to say no to him about anything. That knowledge made her shiver yet again, terrified of what was about to happen now.

Adding to that was the anguish it brought her to know whatever twisted, terrible scheme he had in mind, she'd be forced to be part of it, to help him do whatever it was. She knew only too well, though, that if she showed any hesitation, any kind of moral compunctions whatsoever, he'd only lash out at her again. Why did wanting to do the right thing have to hurt so much? Couldn't she be herself and not suffer for it? Apparently not, she thought miserably.

"Now, it is time to begin." Tompkins said, taking out the photograph of Rebekah Myles. "Find her, first." His tone brooked no arguments. "She is not presently at the family home; of that much, I am certain. However, her exact whereabouts are not currently known. She apparently chose to run off some time ago, and has not been found yet. You will locate her, won't you, my dear?" he said in that mock-paternal voice that never sounded anything other than phony to her, but everyone else always swallowed hook, line, and sinker. It was a voice that always carried with it the direst and most terrible of implications regarding what would happen to her if she should fail him, a voice that set her to shivering with fear every time she heard it.

Donna didn't want to comply; however, she didn't dare refuse him. Not with the way he'd been lately, she was too afraid to chance it. As harsh with her as he'd been before recent events, she knew only too well that he'd be even crueler if she angered him now.

Part of her wondered what could've happened, why Mrs. Myles had 'run off' as he'd put it; but she was too afraid to take a chance on asking. She had a sick suspicion Tompkins had had something to do with that, too; that it'd been yet another of the growing list of things that hadn't gone exactly the way he'd wanted them to. That would, at least, explain why he sounded angrier than was usual-even for him--about it. It'd also explain why Tompkins didn't know exactly where she was now.

Donna sighed and forced herself to concentrate on the task of locating Mrs. Myles before he could get impatient; that'd only anger him even more, and what'd be likely to happen then wasn't something she wanted to see.

Once she'd pinpointed Rebekah Myles' location, it was a simple matter for Tompkins to go after her, snatch her off the streets, and bring her here with the transport device. As soon as Tompkins returned with her, Donna had to watch as she was placed in the shackles. Then Tompkins transported away again, this time intending to bring back Reverend Myles and the daughter.

Donna wished once again she could think of some way to stop all of this. Susan Myles, going by the photograph Tompkins had shown her, couldn't be more than nine or ten years old. The idea of a child in this house, imprisoned in this room, to be subjected to whatever nightmare tortures Tompkins was quite capable of dreaming up, was terrifying. Oh, if she could only transport herself, Donna thought, then she'd grab Susan as soon as Tompkins got her here, then go somewhere, anywhere, else. Unfortunately, that type of magic had never worked for her, trying it once had gotten her nothing but a severe headache -- so bad she'd almost passed out from the pain. So that way was out as a solution, Donna thought miserably.

However, when Tompkins returned this time, Donna knew something must have once again gone wrong. Not only was Tompkins angry again, but he had only the unconscious Reverend Myles with him; there was no sign of the little girl. Donna wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened about that-her absence could've meant any one of several different things. She had a terrible certainty, though, that whatever it did mean, she'd find out soon enough, and probably wish she hadn't.

Which was exactly what happened. Once Reverend Myles had been chained up across from his wife, Tompkins turned to Donna.

"That foolish child managed to escape." he told her. "I was unable to go after her, and she refused to come when I demanded that she do so. Instead, she ran away." He shook his head disapprovingly at that, as though unable to believe that any mere child would dare defy him. "I could not simply leave the Reverend lying on the porch, unconscious, while I chased after her, nor could I carry him while doing so. Either of those options would have risked bringing unwanted attention, caused unnecessary complications."

While she was afraid for the little girl, running off into the night on her own-that wasn't a safe thing for a child to do under any circumstances-Donna wanted to applaud that Susan Myles had done so; at least it'd kept her out of Tompkins' clutches. If only she could shake the fear that doing that had only earned the child a brief delay of the inevitable; that sooner or later, that poor little girl would still end up a helpless prisoner in this damnable house. She shivered and forced her attention back to Tompkins before he could get the idea that she wasn't listening to him.

"It would have been so very much easier if I still had my own magic, of course." Tompkins continued. "I mean to see to it that the others shall indeed suffer for taking that from me. They will learn to their cost that it will avail them nothing in the end, for once I have been reborn vampire, I shall have all my powers back. Not only that, but I shall live forever-and so will Christine." another icy chuckle followed.

That thought made Donna shiver in terror yet again. To have to live with Tompkins and Christine had been horrible enough already; if both of them were vampires, they'd be even more twisted and corrupt than they were now; as terrible as it was to imagine such a nightmarish possibility. An eternity of the sheer evil they were both experts at coming up with? It was too awful to even try and imagine; yet Donna thought with a despairing certainty that she was going to end up seeing it happen. Tompkins never had lost anything, not in any way that'd made a real difference so far; so why should the final outcome of all of this be any different? She couldn't see any reason why it would be, and that made the future even darker than it already was.\lang1033

"As for the girl -- I have no doubts you will find her eventually, my dear. She is only ten, after all. How far can a mere child make it on her own?" He shook his head and laughed again, coldly. "Of course, I shall have you search for her again, my dear, but not yet. I want to collect our other two 'guests' first."

Those words, that laughter, sent a cold knife through Donna. No matter how many times she heard that laugh, no matter how many times she heard him talk this way, it never ceased to amaze her. Tompkins' callousness and cruelty knew no bounds, and he'd go as far as he felt he needed to, in order to get what he wanted. He simply didn't care whether or not anyone got hurt in the process.

On top of what he'd already done, the sheer nerve of calling people he was planning to kidnap 'guests' was almost too much. She shook her head, but didn't dare voice any response. She was afraid if she did, she'd blurt out how she really felt about this, triggering another of his rages.

"Learn from this, Donna. I may have lost my magic, but I still have the power to get what I want. Through you, my dear, I will. I always get what I want, in one way or another. You should know that by now." he smiled in that too-familiar cold, smug way of his.

He was right, damn him, Donna thought bitterly. Getting his own way was something Tompkins always seemed to manage. If events didn't go his way on their own, he'd do anything and everything possible to change things so the results were whatever he'd wanted them to be in the first place.

"There are other ways besides magic to get what I want, of course," he continued. "You should know that, too, by now. However, magic does make things so much more -- convenient, do you not agree?" He laughed in his terrible icy way once again, then shook his head. "Now, to business, my dear." he said, taking out the photo of Jesse Lein and Titania Ross. "Find them for me, and be quick about it." he snapped.

Donna nodded sadly and closed her eyes, searching in the way she knew only too well. It took her only a few minutes to locate the pair; they were apparently together, having just left a movie theater. She'd caught a brief glimpse of the building's marquee behind them when she'd 'seen' where they were.

She only wished she didn't have to be part of doing this to them, but as usual, there'd been no other choice for her. There never was, in the end. Always it had to be whatever Tompkins wanted; she was nothing more than a tool, an object, to be used as he saw fit, and \par it didn't matter in the least to him what being used like this was doing to her.

"I knew you would not fail me, my dear. "Tompkins said icily. "Wait here, I shall be returning shortly." Then he used the transport device again, and was gone.

She knew with a sick, terrible certainty what was going to happen now, and very much wished that she didn't. That young couple had apparently been out on a date-at least, it'd seemed that way--and now Tompkins was going to ruin the evening for them.

It was the same way he always managed to find some way to ruin the life of anyone he had contact with, and that included herself, she thought bitterly. Wherever Nathan Tompkins went, he always left nothing but pain and misery in his wake. Now, because of him, she'd been forced into doing exactly the same terrible things to others. That was a painfully bitter knowledge, that she didn't think would ever go away.

While she waited, Donna tried as hard as she could to keep herself from thinking about poor Susan Myles, out there on her own. She didn't want to let herself think about her. That would lead to her magic focusing on her, and she would end up 'seeing' where the girl was. The moment that happened, she knew, she'd be compelled to tell Tompkins, and he'd bring her here. She could only hope that the girl wouldn't get into any other sort of trouble because of having run away like she had; there were dangers for children on their own on the streets.

Still, as far as Donna was concerned, the child would be relatively safer out there somewhere, on her own, than she'd ever be in Nathan Tompkins' hands. Not letting herself find Susan Myles as long as possible was the only thing she could do, as little as that was. Maybe she couldn't stop Tompkins from hurting these people altogether-as much as she'd like to--but she could delay it as much as she could. Even if she was certain she was only delaying the inevitable; Tompkins was simply too good at making things go his way.

Her thoughts were cut off by Tompkins returning with Jesse Lein and Titania Ross. As soon as he had both of them shackled into place, he turned to Donna. "Look at them, and learn from them, my dear." he said. "If she," indicating the unconscious Titania Ross, "had simply learned the value of cooperation, her young man there would not have been drawn into making his own mistake, and neither of them would have to be here now, to face the consequences of their mistaken actions. They shall learn their lesson, Donna, even as you already have -- haven't you, my dear?" It wasn't really a question, she knew only too well.

Tompkins laughed coldly again. "There are always consequences for everything, and I shall take great pleasure in reminding them both of that."

Donna could only nod. She'd heard Tompkins' lectures on both 'cooperation' and 'consequences' so many times, that she was sure she could probably recite both of the speeches, verbatim, in her sleep, if she'd wanted to. Once again she wished someone would give him a lesson in consequences, and not have it be something he seemed to just brush off, either, as he seemed to have done with his earlier losses. Damn it, was there nothing, no one, that could ever truly stop the man? It definitely didn't seem that way. Not even losing his magic had accomplished that, and Donna was beginning to think nothing ever would.

"They will learn the error and foolishness of their deeds, and it will cost them. It will cost them both dearly. I shall, indeed, make certain of that." Tompkins said. "That lesson, however, cannot properly begin until after they regain consciousness. There is, after all, no point, no satisfaction, in punishing someone who is unable to feel what is happening to them, or who is unaware of why it is happening. So for the present, I shall return to my rooms. In the meanwhile, you, my dear, will remain here, and inform me the moment they wake up."

Donna nodded, and murmured a "yes", just so he knew she was paying attention. If he for one moment thought she was at all distracted, he'd only get angry at her again.

"One thing more, my dear." Tompkins continued. "In the event that, upon awakening, they begin to ask questions, you are absolutely forbidden to give them any answers. Do I make myself clear? You will tell them nothing; I wish to explain the particulars of their situation to them myself. Should I discover that you have disobeyed me in this matter, I shall be extremely displeased. In such an event, I shall not be inclined to leniency. Do, please, try to keep that in mind."

"Yes, I'll remember." Donna murmured, feeling sick at having to acknowledge this, or to have to pretend to agree with this. However, she simply couldn't think of anything else she could say that was safe, that wouldn't send him into another of his rages. The least little thing could set him off.

"Do be certain that you remember my instructions exactly, Donna.. I would be very disappointed indeed, were I to find myself compelled to teach you yet another lesson in obedience. You have disappointed me twice already, my dear. Please make certain that you do not do so again, or I shall have to be extremely harsh with you. Remember, also, that for every action, there are consequences." Tompkins replied. With that, he turned and left the 'dungeon'.

Here we go again, Donna thought bitterly. Tompkins had once again brought out the 'consequences' line. She'd lost count of how many times she'd heard that speech. She sighed in frustration.

Waiting for Tompkins' latest victims to wake up might take a while, she realized, so she might as well sit down. However, there were no chairs in here. She shrugged and went to an empty corner of the room. She checked to make sure the floor there wasn't damp, as well as cold, then seated herself. It wasn't at all comfortable, but there simply wasn't anything else she could do at this point.

Inside herself, she felt as dark as this room was with its dim pseudo-torch lights. Bleakness and despair filled her; the last faint and feeble flickers of hope that she'd ever have any sort of life without Tompkins and Christine faded and died, leaving only bitterly cold ashes inside her. What would happen to her now? She wondered, even as she realized miserably she likely already knew the answer.

This Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant wouldn't be able to refuse Tompkins' demands, Donna was certain, not if doing so put her child in danger. Tompkins had made it clear he would do precisely that if the woman didn't do what he wanted. Donna knew without a doubt that any mother worth the name would do anything to protect her child. However, she also knew Tompkins wouldn't take no for an answer.

Thinking of Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant brought her to thinking of her own mother. Donna was certain that if Kendra had had even the slightest suspicion of what'd been happening to her, what Donna's life with Tompkins and Christine had been like all these months, Kendra would be trying every way she could think of to get her out of this.

She shook her head, cutting off that line of thought. It was bringing up too much pain, on top of what she was already going through; she couldn't stand any more. She missed her mother so; at the same time, she couldn't escape the feeling that it was better her mother didn't know exactly how much of a nightmare her life had become.

That, however, brought her right back to the present situation, Donna thought bitterly. She knew this meant that Tompkins would get his wish and become an immortal vampire, she thought miserably. Then, he'd turn Christine into one. After that, what sort of life would be left for her? It'd be nothing more than endless slavery. That was all she could see that lay ahead for her from now on.

Was this going to be what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life? This anguish, this darkness, this perpetual nightmare? Nothing more than an endless string of pain and abuse, either from Tompkins or Christine torturing and punishing her directly-their way of trying to 'harden' her, as they both put it--or indirectly, from suffering right along with them the torments they both so enjoyed inflicting on others? She was despairingly certain she knew the answer to that question was yes.

Of course, that would be what'd happen only if she didn't end up breaking completely, and give in to the nagging thoughts of suicide that were haunting her more and more every day now. Only the thought of what that would do to her mother had held her back so far. She didn't want to hurt her mother that way; under no circumstances could she bring herself to do that. Yet how much more of this could she stand?

Choosing that way would only be deliberate cruelty towards her mother, Donna knew. That would also be Tompkins' and Christine's way of doing things. Never, never, never would she willingly choose to emulate either of them, no matter what they did. That certainty, though, didn't give her any way to end her suffering, or any hope of a life that wasn't constant torment. Was that so much to ask for? She wasn't expecting everything to be lovely and perfect all the time. Life had its ups and downs, yes, but ever since coming here it had been nothing but misery. Didn't she deserve even a little happiness? \par Or had she done too many terrible things to ever deserve that again?

Where exactly, then, did that leave her? How could she possibly stand to spend the rest of her life the way it was now? How was she supposed to live with the constant pain, to go on hurting all the time, or seeing other people hurting, feeling it right along with them, multiplied a thousand, a million, times worse by the guilt that came from knowing she was part of the cause?

Someone who'd willingly do these things, who didn't care, wasn't the person she was, or ever wanted to be, deep down inside; it simply wasn't. No matter how much Tompkins, and also Christine-before she'd been taken-had tried to convince her that she would eventually become just like they were, callous and uncaring, she knew that that would never happen. She didn't want to ever emulate either of them. She'd prefer to die first, before she'd become like him and Christine.

Committing suicide, however,wasn't, and couldn't ever be, a real option, no matter how much a growing part of her yearned for that as a way out of seemingly endless suffering. The knowledge that her death would hurt her mother terribly, if not kill her outright, continued to hold her back; she couldn't, wouldn't, do that to Kendra.

Which pretty much left her without any hope for herself at all, she thought bleakly, despairingly. She was trapped in this living, waking, perpetual nightmare, this personal hell. This was her life now and it was doomed to remain just this way.

Her life was a black pit of darkness, and there was no way out.