Highlander Never Over

It was late night. Catherine Devaney MacLeod eased off her husband, panting tiredly, feeling ecstasy on the aftermath of sex. She lay on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"It was beautiful." She said sweetly.

"You are beautiful, Kate." Duncan MacLeod replied, kissing her forehead.

Kate got off and headed to the bathroom, feeling Duncan's eyes on her. "I need a shower." She turned, her index finger admonishing Duncan, a warning smile on her face. "Alone."

"Fine." Duncan said with mock frustration.

--

Steam massaged her body as the hot water caressed her skin. She leant against one of the walls of the shower, letting water wash her. She heard a low, distant voice. Duncan was telling her something. Who else would it be?

"What you say, Duncan?!" she called. She got no response. It would not be important. But she kept hearing that voice. She reached out to turn off the water...

--

At bed, Duncan MacLeod had turned on the television, in order to distract his thoughts, as Kate closed the bathroom door. She had been strangely intense that night. Seldom had he made love like that, so passionate but at the same time, edging on the verge of violence. She had scratched his back harshly, making him bleed. It was unusual, but despite the initial shock, deep down, he had liked it.

_"She will kill you..."_

At first, he thought it had been the whistle of the wind, which blew relentlessly outside. Then he thought there might be someone sneaking in. He put on his gown, and opened the large window of the mansion he and Kate lived in, located some miles off Budapest. He walked into the enormous balcony that gave a stunning view of the open field surrounding them. There was no one.

_"She will kill you..."_

He heard the voice again and returned inside. The television turned itself off and then on again and then off again and then on again. Only this time, the image was different. There was a face, a face he knew.

"Connor..." he gasped. Outside, thunder precluded the rain, which broke violently.

_"Hello, Duncan."_ The face of Connor MacLeod chuckled.

"How...?"

_"I'm a ghost... kind of. Heh-heh."_ Connor's face went serious. _"I came to warn you. She will kill you."_

"What do you mean?"

"It's all part of her plan. She has been waiting for you to lower your guard."

"That can't be!"

In that moment, he heard her calling. She asked what he had just said. Duncan stirred, wondering whether he had lived the last year shrouded in a lie. She had been intent on what he was doing. So Connor was right? Was Kate waiting for the proper time? Her anxious behaviour at sex earlier... maybe she deemed that night was the proper moment.

_"There you have it, Duncan."_ Connor grinned acidly.

Duncan grabbed his jeans and a sweatshirt and put them on. He needed coffee, so he headed downstairs. As he left the room, he heard his wife turning off the shower...

--

Kate turned off the shower. She wiped off the mirror and stared at her naked reflection. She looked distressed. She glanced left, hearing once more the voice. Now it was clearer. Her eyes fixed on the fog stemming from the shower. A shape was forming. And she made out what the voice said.

_"Whore...!"_

Kate nearly slipped as she grasped a towel to cover herself. Before her, she could see the bald head and the face of Jacob Kell formed in the mist. She gasped in fear.

"You... it can't be!"

_"I'm a ghost now, but look at yourself!"_ The voice said. _"Mrs MacLeod once more. But do you know... that you are soon to be... the corpse of Mrs. MacLeod... again?"_

"What are you saying, Kell?" Kate yanked her hairs, trying to regain her sanity.

_"Hear him. He's gone downstairs... for his katana."_ Indeed, Kate heard his steps heading downstairs. _"He plunged you into immortality first. And now he uses you as his semen reservoir... But he is tired of you..."_

"That is nonsense."

_"Is it, my whore? You know that when immortals take a lot of evil within them, they become evil themselves. Well, your husband has taken Connor's head, and with it, his Quickening, in which dwelt the essence of the Kurgan, Kane, and many other nice people like me. And he has taken MY head as well..."_

Kate opened the door and went into the bedroom. She got rid of the towel and put on sport trousers and a loose tee shirt. She did not notice that Duncan had left the TV on and that on the screen, Jacob Kell's face grinned lecherously. She headed downstairs. The TV turned itself off.

--

Duncan sipped dark coffee. It could not be. Kate had manipulated him. Maybe she was part of Kell's plan as well. A backup. Should Kell fail, Kate would go and gain Duncan's trust in order to finally exert the long-due death of Connor. Connor was dead now, but Duncan had, as Kell himself had put it, inherited his curse. Thus, his own death would replace Connor's in Kell's insane plans.

_"Sorry, Duncan."_ Connor's voice sympathised.

"Dammit, Connor!"

_"It may occur soon, my brother."_ Duncan spotted a blurred shape by the fridge, a shape that resembled slightly his dead clansman. _"Listen."_ Duncan strained his senses. Kate was coming downstairs. "Here she comes..."

--

Kate approached the kitchen. Duncan held a cup in his hand. He eyed at her with bewilderment, but hardly any surprise. It was a sly scowl, and there was no charming smile He was hiding something. Kate remained at a safe distance as she poured herself some coffee.

She took the cup and drank. Duncan moved past her, towards the living room. She shivered slightly as their shoulders grazed. She stayed in rapt discomfort for a moment, until she remembered something and followed him. The katana was there.

--

Duncan left the cup of coffee over a small Victorian table. He heard Kate there as well. He turned. She was staring at him. Her look was one of shock and fear. So indeed, the time she had been waiting for had come. And maybe she was not certain of how to proceed. Her fingers moved incessantly. 

He glanced around. His katana was near, over the three-body sofa that was on his left. Duncan glanced at it, then at Kate...

--

Kate still had one of Kell's twin swords. She would have smashed it in pieces had it been up to her, but she pondered its monetary value. Duncan had plans of opening a new antique shop in Budapest. She thought it would be an interesting item. So they have brought it along.

_"The wardrobe, my whore..."_

Kate eyed leftward. Over a wardrobe where they kept some silver cups from the eighteenth century, the sword was placed inside a scabbard.

She looked at Duncan. He was intent on going after his katana, which was over the sofa. She knew it for certain now. Kell's ghost was right. He was going to kill her. Now she had no choice but to fight for her life. She sprinted and run towards the sword...

--

Duncan saw her heading to her left. He glanced at her possible goal and remembered the sword... Jacob Kell's sword. Now all pieces matched. He headed towards the katana and snatched it. He faced his wife.

Kate grabbed the sword and turned. Duncan had the katana in his hand. Tears rolled down her cheeks, wondering by which quirk of fate events had had such an unexpected spin. She ran forward, unsheathing the sword and tossing the scabbard at Duncan.

The Highlander dodged it. Kate was storming at him, wielding the sword clumsily if still threateningly. She was a hazard to his life. He had to do it. There was no way back now. If he let her live, she would try again. Duncan hoisted his arm backward and when she was close enough, he went for her neck. At the same time, thunder struck once more.

A slight movement of the arms was her only reaction. Her head fell and hit the floor. Duncan dropped the sword, as he heard a sickening, joyful chuckle. It was... Connor?!

A bluish shape formed ahead of him. It was Connor, dressed in the clothes Duncan had last seen him in. Connor giggled like a maniac. This time, there was no blur. His image was clear, too clear. Suddenly, a change operated. Connor's clothes morphed from a long coat and trousers into a long, priest-like outfit. The face changed as well, mutating into a face Duncan had seen in nightmares. The giggle increased and burst out into an insane, deafening laughter.

"Jacob Kell!" he roared as tears welled up in his eyes.

_"Aw, Duncan, you killed her."_ Kell grinned. _"I told you it would never be over... didn't I?" _

Kell's ghost guffawed before blurring and vanishing, as the Quickening claimed the anguished soul of Duncan MacLeod.


End file.

Highlander