Fickle emotions drive the human spirit, contaminate the heart-- surpass the mind in control. Like some fell shadow the cruel live their lives by instinct and allow bestial aspects to dominate their paths trudging through what they see as a wasteland-- humanity their sheep. Nestled deep within this conscience, buried hip deep in the moral cemetery, Neil Rhodes existed-- for what else could such a man consider his life?

Gabriel bit his lip and nodded slowly to Bronx looking down at the picture of the urn. "Figures." He muttered his tone angry. "What else do we know about this, Bronx?"

She stared down at the urn lost in her memory…. Leering, pain, humiliation, the fight… violence for violence, blood for pleasure. Thoughts flooded in, receded and only the impression remained. Eyes deadened and glistened as tears escaped unnoticed.

"Bronx!" Gabriel took her shoulders. "Honey, I'm sorry about what happened." His voice brought her back to reality… so reassuring. 'I love you damnit!' Her mind screamed at him, her lips couldn't bring it to bear.

"I-- I'm sorry, Gabriel." She longed to throw herself on him. rationality kicked in and she maintained her distance but remained within his grasp.

"It's okay." He pulled her to him again. "I more than understand. Trust me." He felt her body shudder, her face buried in his shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Matsu."

The words almost made the crying worse. More than ever in her life, she felt a desire to be with someone. The stubborn independence was finally losing to the feminine emotions that she had so long repressed. Strange that a college fantasy-- one never forgotten-- could remain so strong within her… "Thank you Gabriel." Her soft voice was barely heard through his shirt and she pulled away to look into his face, eyes red and swollen. 'He has to see that I still love him….' She thought. 'Please see.'

That roguish smile and a kiss on the forehead before he stood from the bed. "What else do you know about this thing?" He beckoned to the image of the urn, watching her face intently. Under his gaze, she felt so at ease. "Not much, Gabriel." She heaved a trembling sigh looking back down at the book. "I have a lot of information but even my resources can be exhausted and Native American history wasn't my focus."

He nodded solemnly looking at the ceiling in thought. "Well, I have a couple of ideas. We can find someone that knows about the thing and that genre of artifacts or we can ask Neil himself." She paled slightly at the second option and he frowned. "He won't ever hurt you again, Matsu. Of that, you can be sure."

"I just-- I think that we might want to consider seeking a professional on the subject."

"Better plan. You and I need to get moving soon. We don't have the luxury of finding someone when really we need to be prepared to take action." He walked over to his terminal and stared at the monitor a moment before turning back to regard her. "I think we should get cleaned up and get out of here. I'll have Grace do some research back home where she can safely move about and question people while that thing chases us… She should be able to find out what motivations it has and hopefully a way that we can rebind it."

Bronx nodded and pushed herself off of the bed. "Sounds good. Shall you call her while I take a shower?"

He ran a hand through his dirty hair and frowned. "I suppose." He replied with a sigh picking up the phone and turning his back on her. "Just hurry up. I don't want to wait all day for female preparation."

She began to retort but just shook her head. No time for arguments as much as it pained her to admit. She felt so strange around him… a completely unfamiliar emotion. Was this what love was like? She couldn't determine if it was pleasant or not…

Left alone Gabriel snatched the phone and dialed. Waiting past four rings… "Guten tag?"

"Hey Gerde! It's Gabriel." He cried, taking a seat in the office chair.

"Herr Knight!" She sounded excited though he could hardly tell with the poor connection. "Is everything alright?"

"Course not dear!" He chuckled wryly. "I'm on another case. Strange one too. Is Grace around?"

"She went for a walk. What's happening?"

"Well, I need you two to pull some research for us. I'm going to be faxing over what we've got and I need you to upload what you find to SIDNEY and email me when it's done. Can you be on the look out?"

"I will, Herr Knight. Would you like Grace to call you?"

"Nah… We won't be at this number for much longer. Just get on that research and we should be fine."

"Alright…" She paused. "Herr Knight? Do be careful."

He laughed "Nothing to worry about, Gerde. I'll talk to you soon." He hung up the phone and collected together the information that about the urn including the image and legends. Scanning it with SIDNEY, he connected and sent it through.

By the time he finished, he figured that Matsu would've been done with the shower but he still heard the water falling beyond the bathroom door. He paced a bit and tried to relax but an anxiety had come over him and he was becoming antsy to get out of the house. 'Your imagination is getting ahead of you, Gabe.' He told himself. 'Relax!' He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall staring out the window at the crashing waves on the wet sand.

The coast was gorgeous and he had to admit that Matsu's retreat was certainly conducive to artistic endeavors-- albeit pleasant endeavors. He doubted that he'd get a very horrific Blake Backlash story if he were working with such a view. More probable it would contain a great deal of flowers, half a pound of romance and a full serving of cheese. Gabriel wasn't the best at writing sensuality.

A gull danced upon the wind above the waves sweeping in a breeze gracefully. Carelessly scanning for some refuge to scavenge. The sun was descending in the sky into the horizon and a tinge of regret welled within his heart. What he missed, he couldn't say…. Perhaps just another reminder of mortality…

"All yours Gabriel." Matsu came out of the bathroom, abruptly breaking his concentration.

"Well, it's about time." He playfully scolded, as he began his own routine. But even as his attention was divided, his mind remained on the gull over the sea and how much he wanted to just let this life-- the life of the Schattenjager behind and just be Gabriel…

***

Clouds amassed threatening a repeat to the night before. A chilly breeze raged across the pavement of the city lifting discarded trash into the wind tossing it several yards with each gust. A car raged by the motor echoing through the quiet buildings… a demonic interruption of the fragile tranquility.

Gabriel's long coat danced behind him like a leather cape, snapping in the breeze with each step. A mop of blondish hair pressed against his head and his face was drawn stern, his eyes squinted against the wind. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and the talisman danced with the rhythm of his movement, bouncing on his chest. Despite the darkness, it seemed to glow with benevolence, bravely piercing the shadows that would obscure it.

To his right, Bronx boldly accompanied him, her own coat tied tightly to her slender frame. The sensitive woman she had discovered earlier had again taken back stage as her determined eyes stared ahead contemplating what was to come. Still, there was a certain amount of fear in her about the outcome of the meeting that Gabriel insisted needed to happen.

They had parked a block from Neil's office-- a tiny suite in the midst of the downtown metro area. The typically busy street was deserted and Gabriel's bike was the only vehicle on the street. A receiver was tossed back and forth on its metal cord, the telephone it connected to was out of service. A light rain began to fall, beginning as a mist before more substantial drops mixed in.

Gabriel stopped outside the office and regarded Bronx. "Wait here. This will only take a few moments." Noting her apprehension, he smiled reassuringly. "Be on lookout. We don't want that thing catching us off guard again." He turned and pushed open the glass door strolling down the darkened hallway, wrinkling his nose at the sterile office scent. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before knocking on Neil's office door. His desire was to beat the hell out of him and leave. Such an action would hardly accomplish their goal unfortunately regardless of how tempting or fulfilling it could be.

A rap on the door and footsteps came thumping over. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Neil. Gabriel Knight?" He pushed the irritation out of his voice and folded his arms waiting.

He heard a lock disengage and the door was thrown open. "Come in, Gabriel." Neil's typically annoying voice grated on him as usual. He saw him already at the desk sitting down with a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. Gabriel closed the door behind him and slowly strolled to sit in on the edge of the guest armchair-- a gesture that always irritated Neil.

"Hi there, Neil!" He made his tone light but his face betrayed a dangerous intention. "How ya been?"

"Cut the crap, Knight." Neil sneered up at him. The expression was made grotesque by the thin black goatee he had donned since Gabriel met him. "What do you want?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Not much. Interested in an urn actually. Wanted to know what you knew about it." He emphasized his Southern charm. "I know what sort of art collector you are."

"Urn?" Neil scoffed as he took another shot. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He looked over at his shelf. "Those are the only urns I've got right now. What do you care anyway?"

Gabriel scanned them quickly without interest and frowned down at Neil. "Just interested in it. Maybe if I showed you a picture… you always were more of a visual sort." Gabriel reached into his coat and withdrew a photo of the urn dropping it on the desk.

It was a clay pot wonderfully decorated on the sides with dark snakes twining about two trees. A man was lying between them both but was distorted. An arm too long face out of proportion, torso almost mangled in size. It was difficult to tell if it was due to the artists imperfection or if it was attempting to be conveyed as such.

"I used to have an urn like this but it was broken." Neil looked up at Gabriel. "Now tell me why you care so much."

"How'd it break Neil?" Gabriel rose from the chair and leaned on the desk, the charm gone from his voice, his gaze locking the smaller man's with its intensity.

"What the hell are you doing here Gabriel? You don't care about that urn. What is it that you really want?"

"Remember Matsu Kajima?" Gabriel scolded himself for bringing it up but he couldn't help it. He wasn't about to let this guy wander around after what he'd done.

"What about her?" Neil squinted up at him apprehensively, his intoxicated hands trembling with tension.

"She's a friend of mine from College… Nice girl." Gabriel pushed up from the desk and paced away, never taking his eyes off of Neil. "Just ran into her the other day and went out for a visit."

"Go on." Neil poured himself another shot and slammed it down still glaring at Gabriel through glazed over eyes.

"She tells me that you raped her Neil." Gabriel tried to remain calm but his temper was reaching a breaking point. "Now I never did much like you but this draws the line. I think--"

"That deserved what she got." Neil interrupted calmly, standing from his chair and walking around the desk. "My services were rendered to one that was hardly worthy of my attentions."

Gabriel bit back another onset of rage and glared at him. "You sick son of--"

"Oh please! That woman is hardly worth your anger, Gabriel. Look at her? inconsiderate and never appreciates a thing you do for her."

"You're disgusting and I swear to God that there is very little keeping me from beating you senseless right now."

"Oh the bravado of Gabriel Knight. How privileged I am to have been the object of it!" Neil shook his head. "Get the hell out of my office Mr. Knight. I have nothing more to say to you."

"I don't think so, /Mr./ Rhodes. We still have things to discuss." Neil reached for his jacket but before his fingers touched his lapel, Gabriel planted a firm right hook to the side of his face. Neil fell backwards on to the floor, his shot glass thrown from his hand as he lay there stunned. "Perhaps it would be best if you didn't move until we were finished with our talk." Gabriel walked around to stand beside him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Neil was breathing heavy as he sat up.

"Not nearly as much as I should." Gabriel grabbed him by the coat and hoisted him to his feet. "Now talk! Tell me about the urn. Who'd you get it from?"

Neil stared at him and shook his head. "Go to hell, Knight. I'm not telling you a thing."

Freeing his right hand, Gabriel punched him again, Neil's head flopping back from the shock. "That's the wrong answer, Neil. Now I'm a pretty reasonable guy but you're really trying my patience. You've already got a mark against you now talk!"

Neil was having difficulty focusing. The combination of the drink and Gabriel's fist made him feel like he was going to pass out. Moments passed and he wanted to say something but fear kept him quiet. Fear the night the thing appeared in his office. The night it ripped out that part of him that he never understood. The night it took his soul.

He had been frightened ever since it left and he wondered where it would go. He hoped to God that it had gone back to whatever hell it originated from. He couldn't have handled seeing it again. His sanity was already waning.

"Talk you!" Gabriel gave him a shake as rage started to overwhelm him.

"Gabriel!" Bronx's voice broke his anger and he dropped Neil turning to face her.

"What is it?" He asked taking a step toward her.

"That… thing!" She pointed off toward the front door. "It's back."