Phantom

Chapter 7: The Fiend Known as Samaraa

The Doctor, Alanna, and Alyssa were in Fallujah, Iraq. Sophie was not present.

When they had returned to the Dome on the Isle of Man, the Doctor had inputted the known psychic DNA strands of the Penguin into his databases under Alanna's watchful eyes and searched for likely matches. Since they only had partial DNA information on the Penguin, all the matches they had were partial ones. But one of the best they had was in Iraq. Alanna agreed and they booked passage there.

But the Doctor made Sophie stay behind.

"Why can't I come?" she asked.

"Iraq is no place for a young girl," said the Doctor firmly.

"But you'll need me," she said, pressing her firm Dutch breasts against him as she hugged him tightly. "Let me come, please, Doctor!"

The Doctor was very much aware of Alyssa's eyes on them, and was equally aware of Alanna's monitoring. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed. He gently pushed Sophie away, and winced when he saw the hurt expression on her face. "Listen to me, Sophie. Iraq is filled with zealots who follow Laquinta, the God of Blood. Do you want to wear a black burka in 100 degree heat?"

"No," said Sophie.

"Do you want to get whipped for the most minor infraction? Do you want to enter a culture where women are sold off into sexual slavery at the blink of an eye?"

"Well... not when you put it like that," said Sophie.

The Doctor hugged her again. "You stay here and take care of things. Someone has to feed the crocorabbit, right?"

Sophie nodded glumly.

Alyssa chose this moment to speak. "Doctor, I'm not surprised but I am saddened that you're filling this poor young girl's head with your own Laquintaphobic tendencies."

"Laquintaphobic tendencies?" said the Doctor. "Don't tell me you're going to deny how women are mistreated there."

"Of course there are scattered abuses, but no more than in western societies," said Alyssa. "The average American male has twice the unconscious aggression towards women than the typical Laquintan, according to a recent study from the Guttmacher Institute for Women and Girls-"

"I'm sure," said the Doctor. He got a gleam in his eye. "Yes," he said finally. "You know, I'm glad you're coming with us. You can help dispel all my... Laquintaphobic misperceptions."

"I know that you mean that sarcastically, Doctor," said Alyssa. "But when we get there, you will see for yourself what a kind, warm, loving people the Laquintans are."

*********

It was a hot, 100 degree day when they stepped off the stratoliner onto the tarmac in Baghdad. Alyssa, dressed in dark pants and a long sleeve shirt, encountered more than her fair share of hostile stares on the plane from women in burkas and large muscular men. But when she stepped off the plane, a jeep full of big bearded men wearing dark turbans drove straight for them. Evidently, the pilot had alerted the Basajis, the Laquintan religious police.

"Who are you? What are you doing here, dressed so scandalously?" their leader declared. He had a blaster at his hip and a curved sword in his belt.

"Scandalously?" said Alyssa. She had been careful to wear modest clothing, covering nearly every part of her body.

"Do not act the fool, infidel!" the man snapped. "Your neck! Your wrists! Your face! All are exposed! What are you, some kind of whore?"

"Whore? You mean a sex worker? Why, I've always spoken out for the rights of-"

"Passports!" the Basaji roared, as his deputies fingered their weapons.

The Doctor handed over his passport, as did Alyssa. He could sense the tension in her body.

Tell Alyssa to stay calm,

Alanna thought.

"The ghoul says to stay calm," said the Doctor. He took a bag out of his pocket. "Would you like a girl ball?"

Alyssa made a curt gesture with her head.

"Then I'll have one for the both of us," said the Doctor. He fished out one, but it was a blonde, and he wanted a brunette. He always found brunettes more soothing. He fished out another, but it was also a blonde. Shrugging, he put it in his mouth and started sucking.

The man with their passports looked up. "It says here you are from London! Are you British spies?"

"British spies? No, my good man," said the Doctor. "We're with the World Government Committee to Fight Laquintaphobia. Here are my credentials." He activated his Pad, and holocredentials bearing the familiar hammer and sickle of the World Government appeared.

The Basaji glared at him. "Your credentials are accepted. But your female must dress appropriately, not like a wanton whore!"

"I am not his female!" Alyssa cried.

The Basaji moved forward as if to strike her, but the Doctor moved between them. "I'll make sure my female is properly dressed. And I will discipline her myself, if it pleases you."

"See that you do!" said the Basaji, climbing back into his grav jeep. It roared away, even as the Basajis gave them hostile stares from within.

The Doctor stared at them thoughtfully, then turned to Alyssa. "I'm beginning to realize you're right. All my Laquintaphobia is fading away... and seeping into you." Giving her a toothy grin, the Doctor turned away and walked towards the terminal.

You enjoyed that, didn't you, Doctor?

Didn't you? You told me how you were slaughtered by Laquintans. Isn't that why you're a ghoul?

I'm more concerned for Alyssa. She's a good girl, but a little... naïve.

Well, I sense there's going to be one great teachable moment after another for her here

.

********

When they exited the spaceport, Alyssa was dressed from head to toe in a black burka. There was a narrow slit for her eyes. The blackness of the burka absorbed the terrible beating heat of the sun.

The Doctor looked down at her. "I must say, I've never seen you looking better."

"Alyssa, are you all right in there?" Alanna asked, through the Doctor.

"I'm fine. Just a little hot," said Alyssa, tugging at her collar under her burka.

"We'll get you some water," Alanna promised. "Won't we, Doctor?"

"Yes," the Doctor promised. "As well as a cute little bowl to drink from."

*********

Sophie missed the Doctor. She stood in front of a holomirror, wearing her tightest shirt and tightest short shorts. Somehow, dressing sexy always made her feel better, a little. She stared at her figure sideways, at her fine Dutch breasts jutting out from one side and her firm ass cheeks from the other. She remembered when she first started growing breasts. The Doctor had taken her to a clothier and whispered something to a saleswoman. Before she knew it, she was in a dressing room with a complete stranger who was telling her to take off her shirt. Sophie reasoned it must be all right, since the Doctor sent her there, but she still felt uncomfortable complying... which she did.

As soon as her shirt was removed, the saleswoman gently but firmly fit her for her first breast control collar, and Sophie grew red as the woman collapsed her into it. Suddenly she realized what had happened. The Doctor had noticed her growing... breasts! He had noticed it so much that he had brought her here to be fitted with a breast control collar! But quickly shame turned into pride. She was becoming a woman. And so when she left the changing room, and stood before the Doctor, she was aware of her new look. She had large coconut cups sticking out of her shirt! She looked even more womanly than before. "How do I look, Doctor?"

The Doctor reddened and mumbled "Fine," even as he turned away.

As the years passed and Sophie's fine Dutch breasts grew larger, this was the Doctor's typical reaction every time he noticed that she noticed him looking at her breasts. He would redden and turn away.

After she had lived with the Doctor for a few years, she had come to think of him as her father. Not that she ever called him that; she always called him Doctor. But when she turned 16, she also started to see him in a different light, as a man, a single, lonely, sexually mature man. The Doctor was only 38 years old at the time.

Sophie started doing

things

, some of them conscious, some of them not. She would speak in a low, musical tone when she talked to him. She would give him flirtatious smiles and look at him from the corner of her eye. She would brush against him when they walked, let her hand play over him at odd times.

And then when Sophie had modeled a sexy new bathing suit for him, something

happened

. "What do you think of this, Doctor?" she had asked, showing him a brilliant one piece which accentuated every curve. She had just turned 18, and her fine Dutch breasts were quite prolific and prominent. Father down, the material of her suit clung ever so tightly to the crack between her legs.

"It looks... it looks....." The Doctor seemed to be at a loss for words.

"It looks like what?" Sophie teased, bouncing up to him as she grabbed his arm.

Suddenly, she looked down, and saw a lump forming in his pants. As she watched, it got bigger.

The Doctor, seeing where she was looking, followed her gaze and reddened.

"It looks fine," he said, turning hastily away.

It was the following day when the Doctor asked, no,

insisted

, that she start dating men. He was totally deaf to her complaints about how boring other men were. But he forced her to go out on date after date. Sophie went on a few dates, until she had the inevitable one with the Lemure; after she dispatched him, the Doctor no longer insisted she see other men quite so vocally.

And now the Doctor was gone, to someplace or other in Iraq. Sophie worried for him. She didn't trust Alanna. However nice she seemed, Sophie had never met a good ghoul before. Ghouls had killed the Doctor's family as well as her own. Ghouls were not to be trusted.

Sophie tried to contact the Doctor, but there was no answer. She paced back and forth inside the Dome, and even fed the crocorabbit. Finally, to relieve the stress, she took a walk in one of the many small forests on the Isle of Man.

********

The Earystane Plantation was one of the many plantations which had been converted to forests on the Isle of Man. It was uncommon to find visitors walking through it, but Sophie never went out without her Infinite Infinity Repeater. Her IIR was designed with her needs in mind. The Doctor could hide his IIR behind his voluminous dark coat; Sophie, who wore very tight outfits, didn't have that option. So the Doctor had made her IIR invisible, as well as the holster.

Sophie had been grateful, but then she had asked, "But how do I aim an invisible gun?"

"With practice, my dear," said the Doctor.

And so Sophie had practiced, and learned to aim it by the way she held it, and eventually she grew quite skilled at firing an invisible gun. Eventually, however, the Doctor found a way to make it visible after she drew it, which made things much easier for her.

And so Sophie wandered aimlessly among the scrubby bushes and trees of the Earystane Plantation, vaguely worrying about the Doctor.

********

His name was Jack.

As in

Jack the Ripper

.

Jack was notorious for having carved up a number of prostitutes and lower class girls in 19th century London, but really, everything started for Jack with a higher class girl, the daughter of an Earl named Jenny Smoothstone.

He was an orphan, and lucky to find a job in the Earl's home, washing dishes and doing errands in the kitchen.

Jenny, who was two years older than him, noticed him and smiled at him, calling him "cute." Over the years, they gradually became friends. Jenny would sneak into the kitchen at odd times and corner Jack and share secrets with him. Over time Jack developed an affection for her, and, he thought, she for him. As he got older, he even started to harbor the belief that maybe something romantic could develop between them, despite their class differences.

Then, when Jenny turned 18 and Jack was 16, she came to Jack with exciting news. She was going to marry Roger Blake of Wimbledon.

"Roger Blake of Wimbledon?" said Jack disbelievingly. "But you barely know him!"

"I know he's handsome. I know he's wealthy," said Jenny smugly. "My father arranged it all. Isn't that fabulous?"

Jack didn't believe it was

fabulous

. "What about us?" he said.

"Us?" said Jenny. "What do you mean, Jack?"

And with that simple question, Jack's fantasy of spending his life with Jenny, the fantasy he had dreamed of every night for the past two years, went up in smoke. He realized then that Jenny had never loved him, not ever; that she had just used him, toyed with him like a plaything, and led him on until something better came along. Suddenly, he realized that Jenny was a whore. Technically, she hadn't prostituted herself in any way; Jack hadn't had sex with her, and he certainly hadn't paid her anything; and yet, in his mind, the first word that came to him when he thought of Jenny now was

whore

. She had taunted him, teased him, played with his affections, and then discarded him, and so in his mind, she was no better than a common whore.

Jenny was his first victim; he strangled her, and then hung her by a hook in the meat closet. And then he ran off to London to begin his reign of terror.

Jack died in London at the tender age of 31; the police never caught up to him; he was always too canny to be caught. No, he died from drowning, from getting drunk and then slipping and falling into a canal.

But so great was his rage at women that Jack could not bear to stay dead, and so he came back as a

kalak

, but not just any

kalak

; he came back as the most powerful of the malign

kalaks

, more powerful than a Shade or even a Fiend. For Jack was a

Poltergeist

. He could take control of people's bodies, but he himself could also generate a body of his own, of any appearance. He had stalked Sophie in several different bodies and she had never noticed a thing.

The Penguin had hired him to eliminate everyone the Doctor love, and obviously Sophie was high on the list. With the Doctor travelling elsewhere, and Sophie all alone, now Jack would have his chance. There was just one troubling thought nagging him....

********

Sophie walked listlessly down the narrow forest path. As she did, she saw a young man, sitting on a log.

She stiffened instinctively, her hand casually falling on her invisible Infinite Infinity Repeater. Her IIF had a number of settings, some of which were quite effective against physical flesh. The Doctor had trained her well; not all perils were of a spectral nature. Some even travelled on two legs.

But the young man looked perfectly harmless. She judged him to be perhaps in his early 20's, just a few years older than her. He was thin, had dark hair, and a charming smile.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she said back to him. She saw he had an open bottle of wine and a glass. He was probably just a hiker, like her, taking a break.

She had almost passed him when he remarked, "It really helps, doesn't it?"

Sophie stopped in her tracks. "What helps?"

"To take a walk, to get out in nature to clear your mind," said the young man.

Sophie blinked. That was a very astute observation. "Yeah... yeah, it does."

"Why don't you sit down and talk with me, just for a minute?"

Sophie looked doubtful.

"I'd love the company," said the young man, and he was so sincere, in the way he said it, that Sophie felt compelled to sit down.

"That's better," the young man smiled. He held out a hand. "Jack," he said.

"Sophie," said Sophie, shivering as she shook his hand. Suddenly she realized he was really quite handsome. "What brings you here, Jack?"

"I'm pining over a love I can never have," said Jack ruefully. "You?"

"I...." Sophie was suddenly at a loss for words. "The same," she said, with an embarrassed grin.

"Some wine?" said Jack, holding up his glass.

Sophie hesitated. Jack was a complete stranger. But there was no way Jack would have poisoned his own cup, would he? "Sure," she said. But even as she reached for his cup he pulled it back, and then pulled a second cup out of his knapsack.

A second cup, as

if he had been expecting a visitor

.

Immediately the complexion of the situation changed, as Jack poured her a drink and handed her the second glass. "Here you go," he said simply.

Sophie took the glass in hand, wondering how she could gracefully decline, if she should decline, if she was being paranoid-

Jack waved his hand in front of her. "It's really quite delicious. Have a try."

Sophie immediately put the cup to her lips and drank. The wine felt heavy and thick, but sweet. Jack smiled as he watched it go down her throat.

"How is that?"

Sophie felt the warmth of it going into her belly.

A strange tingling sensation!

Sophie took a deep breath, as she felt the wine moving inside her.

Then another.

Jack was still looking expectantly at her.

The wine! It was... it was....

"How is it?" Jack asked again.

"The wine? It's nice... it tastes really nice," Sophie decided. She drank some more. It

did

taste fine. Smooth.

Jack nodded, and smiled. They talked for a while. As time went on, Jack realized how easy it would be to end her life. He could kill her right here, and right now, and nobody would even notice. He could hide the body and it would be days before it was even found.

Or he could fuck her first. It would take very little persuasion. She would even think it was her own idea. Jack could fuck her behind the trees, right over there, and she would love every minute of it.

Then he could batter her to death. In this remote forest, she could scream freely. He would cover every inch of that beautiful body with even more beautiful black and blue marks. Then he would strangle her with his own hands, strangle a woman with the double satisfaction of knowing that she carried his seed, deep within her.

For all women were sluts. They all deserved death. This Sophie was no different.

And yet... as they talked, Jack saw it again, in her face.

She looked

exactly

like Jenny.

Like

his

Jenny.

He was far from certain, of course; it had been several hundred years since he had last seen Jenny, right before he hung her on the hook in the meat locker. But Jack thought it was her; she had the same eyes, the same pert nose, the same slender face, the same thick black hair, the same smile... even the voice sounded similar.

And so as the sunlight waned Jack was very surprised to find out that he had decided not to kill Sophie, nor even to fuck her and kill her, as he had originally planned. He would do it, all right, but he would leave her for last, after all the others had been dealt with. That wasn't what the Penguin wanted; but this was no longer solely about what the Penguin wanted, but what

he

wanted.

And so Jack waved his hand slightly and Sophie snapped out of it, as if she had been bespelled. "Oh my goodness, what time is it?" she checked her chrono. "We've been talking all afternoon! I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time." She abruptly got up.

"The pleasure was all mine," Jack assured her.

"Yes," said Sophie, wetting her lips. She waited a moment, leaning on one foot or another, waiting for the inevitable, for Jack to ask for her contact number.

But Jack merely smiled and said, "I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"Yes... yes, I'm sure we will," said Sophie, and she made her goodbyes, and sauntered off. When she had walked a hundred feet or so, however, she turned around and noticed that Jack was gone, backpack and all.

*********

It was a grand celebration.

The Iraqi Department of Health had just completed a brand new four billion dollar credit sewage treatment system for the city of Fallujah, funded entirely by the World Government and western donors, of course. Iraq could not be expected to fund its own basic needs, because the territorial government was still suffering from the impact of colonization six centuries ago and the Laquintaphobia that lingered long thereafter.