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Prologue

Lament of Karla

or

Prologue Therapeutic

Thursday, June 2, 2022 - Noon San Leandro, California Karla Howard's Condo ...

Karla Howard sat on the sofa , staring at a mirror on the living room wall. She looked like a hot mess. Her normally vibrant green eyes appeared dull and lifeless. Blond hair framed her face haphazardly, the lengthy strands strewn about in disarray. She ran her hands down over her cheeks, mooshing them with her palms. "I feel weird," she murmured. "What the hell did you give me?"

She decided the man across from her was exceedingly ordinary looking for supposedly being the oldest man alive. He appeared in his early thirties and had no distinguishing features.

Dr. Steven Milford cleared his throat. "The slurring will subside shortly. Do you remember what you told Methos on the phone yesterday morning?"

"Methos is my friend. I've been teasing him about his name since becoming a fan of the Highlander franchise in the 90's."

"Karla, focus. Do you remember what you told him?"

"I've been having dreams about a female werewolf named Peri Lynn. I also remember something about a German occult group called the Thule society. There were documents and this weird book in a bunker."

"Anything else?"

"I remember a horribly disfigured creature. I remember a girl with a sword. I remember fire." She paused then abruptly changed the subject. "I spent two hours in machines this morning. What was that about? Am I going to have an aneurism or what?" The more she spoke the more she began to slur her speech.

Steven frowned and shook his head. "Your MRI and CAT scan results are in. The good news is you're not having an aneurism. The bad news is there seems to be an abnormality in the area where your hippocampus is located. That's where memories are stored. You repressed three months worth of memories - the entire summer of 1999."

"These things I told Methos were probably just a dream."

"No. We know some of what happened to you, Karla. They're details involving a traumatic incident, which occurred that summer. Besides the headaches, you now have details surfacing. That means your mental barriers might be ready to come down. But I have to take special precautions. Did you know only twenty percent of the Esoteric Community has active-power supernatural abilities? We wouldn't want you to trigger yours inadvertently. So I've given you a cocktail of drugs that will help with this therapy session. The effects your feeling right now will pass shortly. When the drugs have taken effect, I will start by giving you a series of questions then we'll see what we can learn."

"Questions?"

"Yes, Karla. When you go to a gym, you do not pick up the biggest piece of equipment you can find to start your workout. You warm up with a series of stretches. Then you start with lighter weights and work up to the heavier ones. Else you'll injure yourself. I'd like to take things slow with you. The drugs will ensure that you won't be in any danger. Emotionally nor physically."

"Headaches, Steven. I'd have been happy with a prescription for Imitrex."

"You don't need Sumatriptan."

"You suddenly care, doc? I thought you hated lesser supernaturals?"

"I have a very old prejudice against members of the Esoteric Community that sustain their immortality by preying on mundane humans. The fact that Methos has been having sex with you is disconcerting to me. Since the 1950's no less. It's appalling."

Her eyes lifted then lowered, trying to focus on his expression. She felt groggy.

"Yes. I have. I will sleep with whomever I please. I am a succubus; my proclivities are something I am proud of. Furthermore, they are none of your business unless it affects my health. Are we clear, doctor?"

"Alright, Karla, let's try and focus here. How long have you been having headaches?"

She cleared her throat then sucked saliva through her bottom teeth to keep from drooling. "What was in that pill you gave me?" She reached her hand towards the tablet computer on her coffee table. The world began spinning. "I'm defenseless."

"Methos was concerned for you. He said you've been having serious headaches for a while now. Has it ever occurred to you that your body is trying to tell you something is wrong?"

"They're just headaches," she muttered. "I feel really weird."

"The drugs I've given you are part of your treatment, Karla. I'm waiting for them to go into effect. It was a medicinal concoction of various things that will help in your therapy session this afternoon."

Karla slid her hands back up the side of her face, shoving her canary locks into waves. "You never said it would make me loopy."

"The slurring will pass, Karla. Soon, you'll enter a state that resembles a hypnotic-trance. You'll be in a suggestive but focused state of mind. I included a low dosage cocktail comprised of mood stabilizers, a sedative incase you become emotionally keyed up, which will also serve to suppress your natural hormonal succubus tendencies to be aroused. I don't want you flirting with me. I want you telling me what you remember. I also gave you a blood thinner."

"All this for headaches?" she said, stumbling on her words.

"Like I said, the slurring will subside soon as the methamphetamine takes effect. It will help keep you focused and it's a stimulant so you won't fall asleep during the session."

"You gave me uppers and downers together? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Need I remind you I'm a highly respected doctor and I'm here on behalf of the Esoteric Council? I've taken into account your body weight and metabolism. This is for your safety as well as my own"

"Why can't I use my powers?"

"I just told you that I need to protect the both of us. If you become emotional during this therapy session, you won't be able to control yourself. They will return when the medication wears off, Karla."

"Jesus Christ, I should have never opened my big mouth. They're just headaches. It's not that big of a deal."

Steven cleared his throat. "Karla, how long have you been suffering from migraines?"

"Since the turn of the century."

Steven's eyes widened. "You've been having migraines for over twenty years and you never thought to call me?"

"They're just headaches," she said in a soft tone. Her eyes lowered offering a distant stare towards the coffee table. She lifted her right hand towards her tablet computer again. She kept her arm extended but nothing happened. She dropped her hand in defeat. "Dammit." Her eyes lifted back to Steven. "Why are you glaring at me? I told you, they're just headaches."

"What if you had a stroke in public? You have active supernatural abilities capable of flattening a city block. Can you imagine the devastation that could be caused if you let yourself become sick? Something like a stroke could lead to you not being able to control your ability. Then you would become a liability."

"Tell me how you really feel about me," she murmured. Karla slid her hands back up the sides of her face, shoving her canary locks into waves. She lifted her hand towards a tablet computer on her coffee table. She paused then dropped her hand at her side. "I feel lethargic." She tried reaching for the tablet again then gave up.

"How do you feel mentally, Karla?"

"Relaxed. But a little more focused than before."

"How focused are you feeling? It sounds like you're not slurring as badly as you were when we first started." Steven settled down on her recliner adjacent to the sofa she sat on.

"I feel focused. Period. Like when you take an Adderall so you can clean the house and finish a stack of bills. Hey, do you remember DARE? I used to have a DARE shirt back in the 80's. Haven't thought about that in years."

Steven rubbed his chin and draped his left leg, perpendicular, across his right knee. "Do you remember where the shirt is? Be as descriptive as possible and try not to think too hard about it. Just clear your mind and tell me where it's at."

"Storage container just south of Oakland. Container thirty-seven, fourth bin from the top, in the front right stack closest to the rolling door." Karla's eyes widened. Her pupils dilated. "How did I just remember all of that?"

"I told you, I gave you a carefully blended mixture of medication. See how you could remember exactly where your t-shirt was? When was the last time you wore it?"

"October 6th, 1989. It was at a nightclub. I had slap bracelets on. It was a Friday. Okay. I suppose I believe you now. I'll be a good girl."

"Thank you for your cooperation. Karla, let me ask you something - how old do you think I am?"

"Nobody knows."

"I'm asking your opinion."

"Over ten thousand years old."

"Vague but accurate. Do you trust me, Karla?"

"No," she said in a calm tone. "And I would never tell you that normally."

"You think I'm lying to you about something? Go on, speak your mind before we begin. Clear the air."

"You cannot possibly be that old. I don't understand how your mind hasn't collapsed from insanity. Some mortal people can't make it past their quarter-life crisis; some freak out over stress caused by trauma. Yet you're supposed to have been around since before the Old Testament. Furthermore, I think you're dangerous. I'm not sure why but I don't trust you. I'm not usually this forward. Sorry if I'm being rude."

"Part of the medicinal cocktail included a sodium thiopental derivative."

"You gave me a truth serum?"

"As I explained before, you're starting to remember a traumatic event. The stress caused you to repress something and these headaches might be the sign of..."

"You never answered my question. How come your mind doesn't cave if you're really that old?"

"Because I'm not a member of Homo sapiens. I'm a genetic cousin. My mind is designed to handle advanced age because of many key differences. You're fairly old, yourself. You haven't shut down. You're more like me than like the Mundanes. Now, Karla, let's go through this series of brief questions about yourself, then we'll start on the treatment."

"I still don't trust you. Call it woman's intuition. Anyways, ask your questions."

"Let's start with easy things to warm up. It's procedural. What is your birth name?"

"Keturah, daughter of Azazel."

"Do you believe he is the demon mentioned in biblical context, or the Dead Sea Scrolls?"

"I do not believe he has inspired any document, historical or religious."

"I wish you were always this calm and well spoken, young lady. When did you change your name from Keturah to Karla?"

"In December of 1906."

"You're the only known sex demon to have active esoteric abilities. And not just one, but two very different powers. What are they?"

"Teleportation and telekinesis."

"When and where were you born?"

"October thirty, 1599. I was born in Caerdyf, Cymru but we call it Caerdydd now."

"What kind of supernatural are you?"

"I'm a succubus and feed on fluids secreted by the human body during sex."

"You know, I can tolerate your personality when you're like this, Karla. Perhaps I can prescribe you Adderall so that you can be calm more often."

"I build up a tolerance to Methamphetamines quickly ... and it makes my heart race."

Steven frowned. He opened a bag at his side and withdrew a stethoscope and put it against her chest. "You learned that while experimenting back in the early 80s?"

"Yes. I'm not proud of that, but when you're twice as old as the next oldest known sex demon, you begin having a cavalier attitude towards life. You get curious; sometimes you do foolish things. I'm not the best role model; it was a stupid phase and I was a stupid girl. Next question, Steven."

He looked away for a moment, cleared his throat then said, "Where is your father now?"

"He's missing, presumed dead. But who knows, over the last twenty years I started wondering if it's possible he survived. After all, I survived."

"Alright. How did he die, Karla?"

"In Tunguska, Russia. In the summer of 1908, there was a civil war between two factions of the Esoteric Community. They met to discuss terms and wage a war in private, away from humans. It ended with an explosion."

"Yes, and how did you survive it?"

"It was the first time I discovered I could teleport. Teleportation is controlled by my emotions. I was afraid to have the flesh melted from my bones in that explosion. I threw my arms around Nathanial Carrington and we avoided the blast."

"Very good. And what is your other ability and when did that manifest?"

"In the 1800's, I learned I could move an object at will. With practice, I mastered it. I discovered teleportation in 1908 but I always thought it was someone else who pulled us out of there before the blast."

"When did you discover you were responsible for teleportation?"

"It wasn't until late October of 1943 that I experienced it again. It caused a great deal of trouble but it was an accident."

"Yes, I remember when the Esoteric Council decided to cover that up. Luckily it was contained to being only one incident on one Navy destroyer."

"My friend convinced the council to overlook the incident. I was lucky."

"Yes, the old man ... the one the Oracle calls 'The Anomaly.' When did you meet him?"

"December, 1906."

"Do you still talk to The Reaper?"

"His name is Nathanial Carrington."

"Mm, indeed. I actually liked calling him The Reaper because of how he did cleanup work for the council throughout the mid-1900s. It had a ring to it."

"He hates his old title. Call him Nathanial. He deserves that respect. And he's more than some 'anomaly' who cleans up Esoteric messes. He showed me how to be a person. He showed me how to appreciate humanity."

"I see."

"I have a very high opinion of him."

"Do you love him?"

"Ever since I met him. I still do, but not romantically. Like I said earlier, he showed me how to be a good person."

"Alright, Karla, let's try a harder question, now. Have you ever fallen in love 'romantically'?"

"I..." She trailed off and frowned. Her head tilted ever so slightly and her blank stare lowered. "There was a boy in 1999."

"Yes, very good." Steven relaxed on the recliner. "Now we're making progress. Do you remember where he is now?"

"No."

"Then let's start from the beginning. Twenty-three years ago, today. Where were you?"

"June second, 1999. I was ... in New York City. Methos called me and said a boy woke up in a hospital. I was told the boy was telepathic and just awoke from a serious car accident. Everything went down hill from there."

"Go on. Let's walk through it step by step until we uncover everything you've forgotten. Start at the beginning; how did the day start?"

"I remember lying in a hospital bed wearing a gown ... the Little Rock plane crash was on the television. Wait, that can't be right."

"Mm, it's beginning to make sense."

Karla looked up at him, calm and stoic. "Explain."

"It's best not to speculate. I would rather confirm my theory with more information."

"So why do I remember being in a hospital bed twenty-three years ago? I remember swallowing down fear I never felt before. I remember ... I remember standing up to pee. Why do I remember things I've never done before?"

Steven nodded. "Because, Karla, at some point, the boy managed to telepathically transfer his memories into your mind. Yes, it's very possible. The brain is a high power computer with many functions that we never tap into. The power of human faith can create a physical manifestation of stigmata. Your mother and uncle had that bizarre temporal ability. You have telekinetic control over an object and now you can teleport limited mass a limited range. It's very impressive."

"What's your next question?"

"No more questions. If you truly possess the memories of that boy, you must purge them somehow because it's too much for you to handle, which could be why you repressed everything and locked yourself down. Start with the boy lying in a hospital gown in New York City, twenty-three years ago today."

"Aren't you going to record this? I mean, I thought therapy sessions were always supposed to be recorded."

"Karla, don't stress yourself about anything else except what happened that Wednesday morning. If he really did plant his memories into your mind, it will be all of his experiences, even things he learned about others. Your mind might be chock full of memories of people whose mind he read that summer. Who knows how much is in your head right now. But let's assume it's a lot, and the sooner we purge it, the sooner those headaches might finally go away."

"Alright. I understand. I'm trusting you here."

"I appreciate that, Karla. You've been very cooperative so far. I have a newfound respect for you. So. It's Wednesday. Everything is dark."

"Okay, so ... Maybe I should start before meeting the boy. It makes more sense to tell you the whole story. It actually all began eight hours before I arrived in New York. I was standing on a rooftop, watching this Asian girl at quarter of four in the morning. She was helping to pack up props from that police show, Homicide: Life On The Streets. She was attacked and I was sent in to rescue her and get her off the EC's radar..."

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(Leading up to eight hours before the Prequel begins: https://www.sofurry.com/view/644836)