A/N: Whoo-hoo! It only took me... (checks calendar) ugh, SEVEN months to get this next chap out? The good thing though, is that it wasn't a full year this time!

Anyway, thanks for being patient. This episode is nearing its conclusion, and soon we'll be back with the Saints again, especially since I miss writing them.

For those who are asking to read more of the crazy exploits of Dice, Blake, and some of the other Saints, there's a one-shot called "Dice and Spade Write Fanfiction" written by yours truly. And there's also another fic being published by a great author known as Shadow182 entitled "The Saints Rebirth" which, in addition to her own fantastic characters, features guest/cameo appearances by some of the OCs from here. It's a great fic, and I highly recommend it.

Finally, I want to give a big thanks to my bud, PikovajaDama, who gave me some information that I implemented into my fic. I appreciate it greatly.

Being a Saint, Ch 37

Episode 4: The Other Side of the Coin

Part 3

…

…

The Demon was coming.

Zoe Patterson stumbled through the darkened tunnel, unsure of her footing. Her footsteps echoed off the metal plating lining the floor, but it was not enough to drown out the screams of her fellows who tried to slow the monster down. Flashes of light illuminated the section behind her as the creature's terrible vengeance was reaped.

She turned, glancing through the smoky haze created by the Demon as he destroyed all who dared to oppose him. Another of the green clothed figures fell to his wrath, blood spraying from the terrible wounds inflicted upon him. Her foot snagged on one of the vertical metal braces in the tunnel and she fell forward.

Landing roughly, she scrambled to get to her feet as quickly as she could. As she pulled herself up, she realized there was blood on her hands… her own?

No. It belonged to Darien, her boyfriend.

Momentary panic set in.

"Oh God, I left him behind-" she began.

But suddenly Darien was there, grabbing her and helping her to her feet.

"Baby, we need to go, we need to hurry to the exit!" He pushed her forward. "Before he can get to us."

She tried to glance up at him, to check his injury, but it was too dark. She stumbled and fell again, this time bringing him down with her. He grunted in pain as he landed on his blood-soaked arm.

"Dar!" she cried out, then scrambled to stem the blood coming from his wound.

She looked around for something: gauze, a first aid kit, anything. She paused as she noticed the screaming behind her had stopped. In fact, save for her heavy breathing and Darien's muted groans of pain, the entire tunnel was silent.

Almost.

-thump- -thump- -thump-

Footsteps upon the metal floor.

-Thump- -Thump- -Thump-

And they were getting closer.

-THUMP- -THUMP- -THUMP-

From out of the mist wafting about the tunnel's interior he strode. Sure, determined, focused. A Demon made flesh: six feet tall, with pale skin contrasting against his black clothing, the tail of his black duster swirling behind him.

As he approached, he pulled the black visor away from his face, revealing the pure intensity of his cornflower blue eyes. They enhanced the startling, dark beauty of his visage even more, but there was no friendliness to be found in those eyes, no compassion, no hope. Only Hate was held within. The Black Prince of the City had found her, and there was nowhere to go. Her time had run out.

"Zoe Patterson," he called her name, his voice purring and hypnotic. "Or would you prefer your gang name of Knickers? Either way, I have you."

"Please, leave us be," she begged as she crawled over her wounded boyfriend, trying to protect him as much as possible. "You don't have to do this!"

"Oh, but I do," he said with a smirk. He raised his hand, revealing a heavy, black revolver. "It's time I dissolved your association with the Samedi once and for all."

"NOOOOOOO!" she screamed as she raised her hands defensively.

He pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Prawn Court, Red Light District, Southern Stilwater

Wednesday, June 1, 2011, 10:21am

…

…

Knickers gasped in surprise as the violent ending of her vision brought her back to the physical world. It took a moment to get her bearings.

She was sitting cross-legged upon the bedroom floor in her small apartment. Before her were the instruments of her practice: sage burning in a ceramic mortar, shards of amber and black kyanite stones set before her for protection, a bowl of beaten silver containing fresh, pure water for clarity, and four lit yellow candles. As she watched, the third candle flickered for a moment and then went out.

She blinked in dismay.

"Well, that's definitely not good," she muttered.

To her right was a page torn from her Strathmore drawing pad. An intricate pattern symbolizing protection, etched in black and white chalk. She carefully reached down and moved the page off of the one she had placed beneath it. Her chest tightened a bit as she peered at the image she had drawn there several days ago: a handsome pale face with sharp features and black hair crowning it.

"Why are you after me?" she asked the illustration. The cornflower blue eyes stared back impassively.

A voice called from outside the bedroom door.

"Knickers? You okay, baby?"

She glanced up at the doorway, a slight smile forming on her lips. It was Darien.

"I'm okay. You can come in." She started gathering her materials as the door opened.

"I heard you talking. Wanted to make sure everything was alright."

She nodded. He was always there for her. Always faithful. So much was uncertain in her life, but never him. Darien was the one rock she could lean upon when the rest of the world was a place mired in ambiguity.

"You got a fever?" he asked suddenly as she gently snuffed out the remaining candles.

"Huh?"

"You're sweating."

She wiped a hand across her forehead then glanced down at her shirt. She was nearly drenched, and hadn't even noticed it.

"No, I'm fine. Just doing this…" she indicated her paraphernalia. "…takes a lot out of me, you know?"

He hesitated for a moment and then an earnest smile appeared on his face.

"I don't really, but if you say so, then I trust you. You know I always will."

She grinned as she stood.

"Let me take a quick shower. Then, if you don't mind, I'd like to go somewhere."

"Whatever you need."

The hot water cascading down allowed her to relax, and memories came back from her youth.

…

…

Zoe Patterson was eight years old when she realized that not all of the dreams she had were merely fantasies conjured by her subconscious. Sometimes… sometimes they were real. Flashes of things that had been and occasionally those still yet to come.

Then there were the whispers that began after she had turned thirteen. Slight, zephyr-like murmurings dancing across the edge of her perception. Frustrating whispers that begged to be made clear, that wanted to be heard. But she hadn't understood how to listen back then.

Instead her youth was a frustrating mess of disbelief from nearly all of her friends and family. Disbelief turned to disappointment, and disappointment became isolation – no one wanted to associate with the little girl claiming to hear 'voices'. No one save for Darien.

Ever since they were young, he'd tagged along beside her. Initially, she had been annoyed by his attention; a stupid crush from the neighbors' son. As time went on, however, and others abandoned her, Darien remained faithful. Never wavering in his devotion, never questioning their friendship. To him she wasn't a freak; rather he said she was blessed.

She sought out his company more and more, an island of peace in a sea of bitter frustration. She'd come to love him as much as he'd always loved her. When he finally worked up the courage to 'officially' ask her out, she practically threw herself into his arms. She never found cause to regret that decision.

Then one day it happened, in the middle of the afternoon, as Darien and she had stolen away to an abandoned lot to remove themselves from the stares of her family, from the looks of disapproval. An odd man appeared before them - bent, twisted, and with the left side of his face horribly scarred as if by an intense fire.

He introduced himself as the Magic Man, and said that he was sent by the whispers of the Loa to find her. She didn't trust this strange creature at first, but as he continued on, expounding upon the 'voices' of the Loa, of the spirits of the Samedi, she became enthralled. Here was someone else who knew exactly what she had gone through, who had experienced the same things as she did.

Rather than mock her and her abilities, the warped man offered to teach her to control them, to focus them, but only if she would swear allegiance to his master Mr. Sunshine, and to Baron Samedi himself. She'd have to leave her old life behind, and join the street gang known as the Sons of Samedi.

She had hesitated. As much as she wanted to learn about her gifts, as much as she wanted to get away from those who belittled her, there was one thing she could never abandon: her dear Darien. Once she made this clear to the Magic Man, the green-clad individual pondered the situation and finally offered to have the young dark-haired boy admitted to the gang as well.

Darien hadn't wanted to do it; rather he suggested they run away to Steelport, or perhaps another city. Though sorely tempted to just go away with him, to just be free, she knew that they were still young and had no means of adequately supporting themselves. Besides, she may never learn the answers she sought about herself and the things she could see and hear.

She talked to him quietly, trying to convince him that this seemed like a good option, and reluctantly he agreed to go with her. That was two years ago…

…

…

A light rapping on the bathroom door brought her back to the present. She turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

"Yes, babe?" she called out as she dried herself.

"Hey, I still can't get the Danville working properly. The rear alignment just feels off. It's harder and harder to get parts now as it is."

Since the Samedi had declared open warfare with the Third Street Saints, a heavy toll had been taken by the gang – people, money, and vehicles were becoming in short supply.

"We still got Kermit, though," he said, amusement in his voice.

She smirked. "That's fine. I'll be ready in a minute."

…

…

Down on the parking lot, Darien pulled the tarp off of his back-up vehicle, a dark green Toad ATV affectionately nicknamed Kermit. He crouched down and made some adjustments to the underside as she waited patiently – he'd always been good at tinkering with things, and was considered one of the better mechanics in the Sons of Samedi gang.

As she waited, she noticed a young couple coming back to the large apartment building from Big Al's grocery across the street. They each were perhaps a couple years older than Darien and her, and had an easy-going yet very affectionate banter between them.

The girl was short with dark blonde hair and wearing a pink babydoll tee, grey cargo pants, and fingerless leather gloves. For some odd reason she had a dark pink crowbar slid through one of her belt-loops. The guy was a tall, well-built blond man, with dazzling sapphire blue eyes.

As they passed, the short girl glanced over with a smile and a "S'up?" before shifting her attention back to her companion.

The couple made their way to the large apartment building's southern entrance where the guy moved ahead and opened the door for the girl. The girl, who Knickers had seen about before - the pink crowbar was hard to miss - had been a staple of the apartment complex for a while. The guy was newer, having moved in with her only recently. However, they seemed like a good fit for each other, and Knickers smiled to herself at their happiness.

"Okay, sorry about the delay," Darien said drawing her attention once again. "Kermit's been acting a bit jumpy lately."

"It's alright," she said, then paused as his poor joke finally sunk in. "Jumpy? You dork."

He chuckled, and grabbed a rag from his back pocket to wipe off his hands.

"Your chariot awaits. Where would my lady like to go?" he asked with a smirk. "Better?"

"Much," she grinned.

"Then hop on."

"Ugh, stop it!" She shook her head as he helped her on behind him. "Take me to Mama Tuteura's, please."

He revved the throttle and then pulled off the lot onto the streets.

The warm, late morning sun shone down as the two of them moved through the cacophony of busy traffic upon the streets. Some drivers were yelling and honking, others were rapping to whatever tunes they had had blaring out of their radios, and some were just oblivious to everything. They all, however, had their individual whispers.

Sometimes Knickers would listen, letting the whispers tell her their secrets. Today, however, she had only one person she wanted to talk to, and thus forced the murmurings from her mind. She smiled as the voices subsided. The Magic Man's teachings had been learned well.

She leaned forward, and lay across Darien's back, reaching around and holding him about the waist. She made sure not to cling too tightly, lest he be unable to steer the ATV properly. It was, however, good to just have him close, to feel him against her.

After a short journey, they arrived at their destination: the Eye-for-an-Eye shop located in Sunnydale Gardens.

"I'll wait out here if you don't mind," Darien said as he shut the motor off. "Kermit still isn't one hundred percent."

Knickers nodded as he kneeled down to check the undercarriage once more, but she knew he wasn't comfortable around the voodoo shops, especially since most of them had connections with the Samedi. Most, but not this particular location.

She grabbed up her drawing pad and entered, and was almost immediately overwhelmed by the sharp tang of burning incense. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkened interior after having been out in the bright sunlight. There behind the counter was the person she had sought.

A woman of mixed ancestry, Mama Tuteura appeared in be in her early forties with dark hair that matched her equally dark eyes – eyes that could peer deep within a person. Necklaces of bright beads and shiny bone contrasted against her dark blue gown. She seemed to be sorting different types of colored stones spread out on the counter.

Knickers hesitated a moment then approached the counter. Before she reached her destination, the shop owner spoke.

"Are you still wit' dem?"

The young girl halted with a frown. She searched for an answer to mollify the older woman.

"I will not aid da Sons of Samedi, you know dat."

"And you know I'm still with them," Knickers replied. "Why even bother asking?"

"For da same reason ya be comin' 'ere wit' ya questions. Hopin' for a diff'rent answer."

Knickers knew Mama Tuteura spoke the truth. Of all of the Eye-for-an-Eye shops throughout the city, Tuteura was the only owner who knew legitimate voudun practices. It was rumored that she was as knowledgeable as Mr. Sunshine himself, just not as practiced. Nor as dark.

After joining the Sons of Samedi, Darien had continued questioning the methods of the green-attired gang which were brutal sometimes, as well as their motives. Especially when it came to the plans the Magic Man and Mr. Sunshine had concerning her. She finally relented about six months ago and took his advice to seek out someone else within the city who may give her a 'second opinion' of her abilities, and how she should use them.

It took her a bit, but after some research, she was able to locate Mama Tuteura and her shop. However, after her initial visit, Knickers learned that the older woman was not only no friend to the Samedi, but also held no regard for those who aided them, such as the young girl who now stood in desperation within her shop.

"You once told me that you believe the Sons of Samedi have twisted the words of the Loa. That they abuse the gifts given them. That's why you choose not to be part of them, and I respect that decision."

The woman looked up finally and fixed her gaze with that of the of the younger girl.

"Apparently not, since ya continue ta bodda me."

Knickers undid the elastic band holding her drawing pad closed, and pulled out a loose sheet of paper upon which was the drawing of the black-haired man of her visions.

"There's a darkness. I can sense it. Feel it. It seems to be after me I think." She showed the paper to Mama Tuteura. "I don't know what to do."

The voudon practitioner raised an eyebrow.

"Dat one…" she trailed off. "It is a good likeness, I grant ya. He be someone ya not want as an enemy. Ya know who dat is?"

Knickers took a deep breath.

"I-I don't really. The son of Hate, the Black Prince of the City?"

Tuteura chuckled darkly.

"Close enough ta da truth. His name is Mr. Kind, and da Black Prince is a good title for'im. He is da son of Alexander Kind who was truly a hateful man if ever there was one. Called himself King of Southern Stilwater at one time."

The young girl paled at the information. Even removed from the majority of the everyday gang life as she was, Knickers had heard of Mr. Kind, a psychotic murderer who left death and destruction in his wake. There were rumors he had allied himself with the Third Street Saints. The Elysian Fields Trailer Park was apparently taken away from the Sons of Samedi by him, but there wasn't confirmation on it.

"W-what do I do then? How can I stop him?"

Tuteura scoffed.

"Da likes of you are not able to stop one of his fury. I'd just leave'm be."

"But he's after me in-in visions I've had. I need help."

The shop owner leaned forward, hands on the counter.

"I will not aid the Samedi."

"This isn't about the Sons of Samedi."

"Nor will I be aidin' you, ya selfish girl," the woman groused. "Find ya own way."

Knickers stepped forward, up to the counter.

"It isn't for me, either. There's a darkness which will be after me, and if it reaches me…"

Mama Tuteura narrowed her eyes, studying the girl. Her expression changed from one of contempt to mild surprise. She tilted her head and spoke again.

"Ya not be worryin' for yourself." Her eyes widened a bit. "Dere's someone else."

Knickers nodded quickly.

"When I look, when I see what may happen, I'm not the only one who gets hurt." Her face scrunched with concern. "My boyfriend, Darien is there too. He gets hurt as well."

She took a deep breath then continued.

"I know you don't like the Sons of Samedi, and Mr. Sunshine, and his followers. You don't want to help them. That's fine. You don't want to help me. That's fine as well. I accept that. But Darien, he doesn't deserve whatever fate is gonna happen. Not because of me. Not because of the darkness that's coming after me."

She put the drawing on the counter right in front of the older woman.

"Tuteur is French. It means Guardian. That's where you get your name from. You want to help those who need protecting. Help protect Darien then. From this darkness. Please."

The woman picked up the paper and stared at it for a moment, then her gaze shifted to the young blonde girl. She looked about the girl's face, studying it, then the air around her head and shoulders.

Knickers knew what she was doing. Mama Tuteura was listening to the voices. Listening to the Loa. Perhaps she would help after all.

"The darkness is not after ya yet."

She handed the picture back to the girl.

"It be coming after ya through no fault of ya own, so dere's nothing ya can do ta stop it."

Knickers looked at the picture, then back up at woman.

"Nothing? Then why do these visions torture me? What's the point of just knowing something if I can't change it? The Loa aren't cruel like that!"

Mama Tuteura's lips twisted into a contemptuous smile.

"And dat, little girl, is why the Samedi's priests are foolish. Dey don't listen to the Loa properly. They don't respect dem. If ya listen right, they be givin' ya da answers."

"So I can prevent this?" Knickers asked, hope finally dawning.

"You?" The woman chuckled. "No, not you. Only the Child can be stoppin' dis. If ya can reach'im. If he decides ta, which he may not. The darkness will come ta claim ya and ya man, but if ya can reach da Child, den he may stop the darkness. He may stop it all."

A confused look crossed the girl's face. She was about to ask the woman to explain further when her cell phone started trilling.

"Excuse me," Knickers said as you stepped away from the counter and looked at the screen.

It was the Magic Man. Her brow furrowed; her mentor wouldn't appreciate her seeking assistance outside of the gang.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to mask the concern in her voice.

"My girl, ya be needin' ta get ta da Tallon Meat Plant right away. I be needin' ya help wit' an endeavor."

"I'll be right there, sir." She clicked her phone off, and turned back to Mama Tuteura.

"Go back to ya masters," the woman said before she could explain anything. "Dey got ya on dey leash an' won't be lettin' ya off of it anytime soon."

Knickers hesitated, wanting to know more, but the woman's icy tone indicated that no new information would be forthcoming.

"Thank you, then. For listening, and for telling me what you could."

The woman went back to sifting through the stones on her counter, ignoring her. With one final resigned sigh, Knickers left the small shop.

The trip to the Tallon Meat Processing Plant went by quickly. Knickers' thoughts were a jumbled mess. Was there actually a solution to her problems? Could she escape her fate? Why else would the voices whisper this to her constantly? As she told Mama Tuteura, the Loa weren't malign spirits, they wouldn't just torture her with this information unless they offered a way out of this.

As Darien and she sat waiting on the shipping dock outside the processing plant, Knickers called up the internet on her cell phone. Maybe she was given the answer and just didn't know it. She started searching through various articles.

Most of what she searched involved Mr. Kind, but surprisingly little was known of the criminal. He was more of an urban legend, - a myth, like the giant Cabbit, or that Grasshopper Mouse girl whose exploits recently hit the headlines. After several fruitless searches, Knickers decided to change up her tactics and search for information another way.

She looked for any and all information involving the word 'child'. Again her task seemed futile. The term was just too general to do any good. As an afterthought, she even translated the word into different languages… French, Italian, German.

Wait a moment. German. In German the word for Child…

…was Kind.

She blinked at her screen unsure of what this new information meant. Kind meant child? She was supposed to reach the child, who may or may not decide to stop the darkness that would be coming for her?

"That doesn't make any sense," she muttered to herself. "If the child is supposed to stop the darkness, then what exactly is this darkness that's going to come for me?"

A shadow suddenly fell across her.

"Well, hello there young lady," a voice said in amusement.

She looked up to see two figures. One was the Magic Man, and slightly in front of him was the individual who addressed her: a dark haired man dressed in a black suit with green tie. He was handsome, but a cruel smile twisted his lips as he watched her.

"It's Knickers, right? It's been a while hasn't it?" His eyes shone with mischief. "I don't know if we've ever been properly introduced."

He held out his hand to her.

"My name is Jean San-Pierre."

A/N: Next chap, the history that all of you - okay some of you - have been asking for. See you then. Thanks for reading!