Warehouse 13: Darkblood

|My entry for the Battle Of The Fandoms Competition: Films & TV Section|

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23. |Chapter 18: The Purest Form Of Insanity|

 

William’s counterpart arrived at Warehouse 13b. He smiled. He had seen the glow that William and Claudia shared, thanks to Paracelsus, who had taught them to see where Warehouse energy was strongest. The glow of Warehouse power. He knew there was another Warehouse, and he knew that it was here. He was William Damarcus, he could see through the veil of invisibility that William had designed using Edgar Allen Poe’s Quill Pen and Notebook. That’s the downside with making something so only you can see it: any murderous dopplegangers will be able to see it too. It was a good move, however, he almost applauded him. Almost, of course, not quite. William now had to experience the downside of the Pen and Notebook, and since the two Williams were the same person, he knew where he would hide it.

 

Back at Warehouse 13, William Damarcus was feeling the effects.

“Ok,” Pete grabbed his arm as he stumbled, “What’s going on?”

“He’s found the Quill Pen and Notebook. He’s going to separate them and drive me insane. Make me useless,” He stumbled again.

Artie rushed forward, “I thought you’d hidden that where no one would find it?”
“Yes. But he knows I’d hide it where no one could find it. And it would be easy for him to figure out where that is. He’s me isn’t he!”

“Ok, so what do we do?”

“Neutralise my psycho doppelganger’s fork, wipe him from existence.”
Claudia looked at him like he was insane, “But he’s the only one that knows where he has put the Pen and the Notebook! William!”

But it was too late, William had slipped into unconsciousness. When he woke up, half his mind would be lost. He would be insane.

“No!” Claudia shook him, to no avail.

“Hang on, I can fix this,” Pete checked his watch, “I’ve got a date with a forward pass…” He pushed the agents out of the way and tore down the Umbilicus, the rest of them in pursuit. He reached the end and barged the door open, appearing in the South Dakota sunshine, just as a very small black blob flew down from the atmosphere towards him. It got bigger and bigger until they could see that it was an old style American Football. The Artefact Tracker Football. Pete dived and caught it and jumped up, cheering. He flipped it over a few times in his hands, “Still not regulation weight, but good enough.” He passed it to Artie who opened it, revealing a complicated computer system. He typed and clicked then turned to Myka, “Read that and memorise it.”

“I memorise everything I read.”

Satisfied, he closed the ball and threw it back to Pete, who did his best quarterback run up and launched the ball back into orbit.

Maddicks put his hand in the air, “One question: what was that?”
Artie shook his head, “Artefact Tracker Football. Locates artefact events around the world and sends the information to the Warehouse computer system which alerts you with a ping. It comes down out of orbit occasionally, usually when needed like today, and we can search for stuff on it. We now know where the two parts of Edgar Allen Poe’s Quill Pen and Notebook are.” He turned to Claudia, “Do you teach them nothing?” Without waiting for an answer he shuffled towards the Delorean, followed by Pete and Myka.

“We’ll wait here for William to wake up,” Claudia shouted, “Be careful.”
“You got it.” Pete smiled and disappeared behind the wheel. “Cool. Time travelling car. Right, where to Mykes?”
“To Chinatown. That’s where the Pen is. The book is still in Warehouse 13b. I know the exact coordinates if you can enter them somewhere.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
Artie interrupted, “Yes you can, Claudia has made many modifications to this car,” He leant forward, pressing a button, “Right…there.”

“Right then,” Pete typed the last number, “To Chinatown.” He paused, “Why Chinatown?”
“Somebody will be selling Edgar Allen Poe’s Pen. It’s the perfect way for us to never see it again.”
“Fair point.” Pete turned the key, put his foot to the floor and the car disappeared.

 

“That the Pen?” Pete asked.

“Yes,” Myka sighed, “the sign says Edgar Allen Poe’s Pen in Mandarin.” She moved closer and was greeted by a small Chinese man behind the window. They entered and he spoke. The accent was thick but his English was accurate.”
“With what can I help you.”
“Er,” Myka smiled, “we’re interested in this pen.”

“Ah. That pen is very expensive, very expensive.” He picked it up, “Four thousand dollars.”
Myka smiled, thinking. Pete, on the other hand, had made his decision.

“Or,” He produced his Tesla, “we could just say it’s an emergency and take it.” He fired and the man dropped.

“Pete!” Myka turned to him.

“No time,” Artie grabbed her, the pen, and dragged her outside to the Delorean. Pete reversed into a crowded street and accelerated forward, people diving out of the way. At eighty-eight miles an hour they disappeared and reappeared at Warehouse 13b.

 

They climbed out of the car and walked slowly towards the Warehouse. They pushed the door and it opened. Walking slowly, they reached the main part, the Artie’s Office equivalent, of Warehouse 13b, and on the table was the Notebook.

“Uneventful.” Pete observed.

Artie’s Farnsworth buzzed and he opened it. It was Claudia.

“William’s back to his old self so well done, but we do still have a big problem. The other William is teleporting Artefacts out of the Warehouse and presumably to Warehouse 13b.”
Artie looked out of the window at the deserted Warehouse, “Not here. Its deserted, that’s why getting the Notebook’s so easy.”

“Oh. Oh no. I have a theory. Get back here now.”
Artie opened his mouth but she shut it off, “God that’s annoying.” He said.

Pete and Myka smiled at him accusingly, “We know.” They walked outside and got into the DeLorean. Within seconds they were back at Warehouse 13. 

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