Joey Summerskill had been out in the field all day and her feet were killing her. As she sat in the newsroom at KJXB rubbing her burning soles, she waved as Stan entered.

"There you are? How'd it go?" Stan grinned.

"It went. What are you up to?" She lifted her face for a brief kiss.

"Thought this might interest you. A forty-one year old white male took a 18 story dive out his apartment window in midtown Manhattan last night. And get this... scrawled on his bathroom mirror was a note from your friends, the Gatherers." Stan handed the news release to Joey.

"A busy bunch, aren't they?" She scanned the release quickly. "I wonder where they'll strike next?"

"I wonder why? What are they doing? There's no pattern, no link between their victims, just random murders and mayhem. A cult usually has some kind of motivation. What's theirs?"

"Haven't a clue." Joey slipped her shoes on. "Hey, I'm starved. How about Italian?"

"Sure. You buying?"

It was midterm and Kirsty Cotton wasn't prepared. Her nights of late had been filled with the all too familiar nightmares, robbing her of needed sleep and making her lethargic. She was finding it difficult to concentrate. She sat in class and fought to keep her eyes open as the professor's monotonous voice droned in her head. Finally, she lost the battle and dozed.

She was back in the labyrinth; the air was foul and frigid, and she couldn't find her way out. She wandered aimlessly, taking corridors that led to deadends and others that would stop abruptly at the edge of the abyss. One more step and she would have been devoured in its bottomless depths. And she would turn to retreat and he would be there. His black eyes burning with hate, his studded face shining in the dark; he would grab her arm, they would struggle but ultimately he would win. With great strength he would shove her into the precipice and she would fall for what seemed at eternity until finally, almost mercifully, she would see the fires below coming closer and closer. And then she would wake with a start. Always the same dream with an identical ending.

The students around her were staring as was the professor. He opened his mouth just as the bell rang. Kirsty quickly gathered her belongings in her backpack and walked out.

"Must be some tormented sleep?" A classmate jibed. She walked on looking back with a smirk. They'd never had hit it off well.

"Go to hell." Kirsty whispered. That's where you belong, she thought; I should know, I've been there.

After classes, she walked to the student health building. The prim, young woman at the desk looked up as she entered.

"Hi, I'm Kirsty Cotton. I have an appointment." The girl browsed her appointment book and ticked off Kirsty's name. "Have a seat," she said with a smile. Kirsty sat in a far corner, perusing the magazines haphazardly discarded on the table next to her. She picked up last week's issue of Time; the front cover read, "Who are the Gatherers?" She thumbed to the article and began to read: "In the past nine weeks, the group calling themselves the Gatherers have surfaced in over six cities doting the country with the spread of fear and death..."

"The doctor will see you now." The young woman smiled and Kirsty followed her into the corridor, discarding the magazine back on the table.

"Kirsty, have a seat." The doctor motioned from behind his laminated desk. "You've missed our last three appointments."

"I've been busy with school, you know. It's midterm and I have got to study. My thesis is due..."

"Why have you been avoiding our sessions, Kirsty?"

She sat staring into her lap. "You can't help me, doctor. Nobody can."

"If you believe that, then it will be a self fulfilling prophecy. But if you can keep an open mind, we can come to terms with ..." he fumbled for a word, and for once in his professional career, he couldn't seem to grasp one. What was it this girl was suffering from? Delusions, paranoia, schizophrenia, all of the above? He stared at her for a moment. "We can deal with your problems together," he finally managed.

"My 'problems'? Well, that's a quaint way of putting it." Kirsty rose. "After five years of analysis, doctor, after five long years, it's about time we called my 'problems' by another name. Don't you think? I don't have a 'problem' what I have is past events that haunt my every waking hour and nightmares that won't let me forget even if I could."

"What happened to your family...to your father, was terrible. A tragedy such as that in anyone's life would leave scars but you have to deal with it, Kirsty. That's what we've been striving toward..."

"And failing. You can't change anything, doctor. You can't save me from the past, or my dreams or... myself."

For the first time, the doctor smiled. "But your view of reality is still distorted, Kirsty, we still speak of demons, and other worlds and monsters..."

"And revenge, doctor. Don't forget revenge." She lifted her backpack onto her shoulder. "I have to go. This is, as usual, a waste of time."

"We can deal with all of this, Kirsty, if you will allow me..."

"No, we can't." She shut the door after her.

Her dorm room was deserted. Her roommate was out again. Kirsty swore as she began picking up the myriad of clothing articles strewn across the floor. Then she crawled onto her bed and tried to read but couldn't stay focused. She had grown increasingly restless and brooding the past few months. The anxiety attacks had plagued her with amazing regularity. And she always had the feeling that something was going to happen. That it wasn't over yet and her subconscious mind knew it was just a matter of time.

"Did you find it?" Jennings asked. He stood in the middle of the abandon warehouse, surrounded by the Gatherers.

"Yes, Leader, it was there. Just as you said it would be." Munson knelt at his feet, not daring to look directly into Jenning's eyes.

"Did you bring it?"

"Yes. It is here, Leader." Munson retrieved a small pouch from under his cloak and handed it to Jennings. He removed the contents. "And the man?"

"He is dead, Leader. He is no longer of consequence."

Jennings stared at the object. "You have done well, my friend." He fingered the box lightly. "You have done very well." He moved behind the table and sat the box down. "And now, after so long, we have the means to our end. Since I was... liberated... from the Channard Institute five years ago, I have searched the world for this" ---he pointed to the box---"and now we have it. And with it, the secrets and power of the universe are ours. We have waited long enough. The prophecy will be fulfilled. All we need is a volunteer, someone worthy to solve the puzzle, open the box, and know its eternal secrets and taste of immortal life. Are there any among you worthy of such a treasure?"

The Gatherers looked one to another and all raised their hands in unison. Jennings smiled.

"Munson. You found the box and killed to bring it to us. You should have the honor of opening it." He handed the small cube to Munson. He fingered it with delight.

"Take off your shirt. That's it. Sit here by this wall, my friend, and feel the patterns on the box. Feel it with your soul, Munson and pray for our deliverance."

"Yes, Leader." Munson sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, facing the wall. Jennings motioned for the rest of his followers to move back and they complied. They watched as the young man fingered the delicate patterns on the box with his pudgy fingers. Soft music issued forth from the box as the wall became iridescent; Munson rubbed his fingers against the top of the box, excited by his obvious success. The box glowed and tumbled out of his hand, landing upright on the floor. He watched part of the box raise, turn and lower into a star configuration. Jennings smiled; Munson's eyes glistened with anticipation. The box in part rose again and then back to its original shape and all was still for the briefest of moments.

Munson looked up at Jennings as the chained hook pierced his left forearm. He cried out and reached for the chain. Another hook caught his right hand and pulled it away. Warm blood trickled down onto the warehouse floor. The Gatherers watched in horror as chains flailed from the warehouse wall, hooking and gouging the hapless young man until he was being pulled and stretched from every angle. His cry was now a howl and in one eye-blinking moment, his skinned was pulled from his body and he landed, screaming, against the wall. Jennings watched as he melted into the space and disappeared, his screams echoing through the building. And the wall parted; Jennings was bathed in a blinding brilliance. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes as he watched a lone figure step out from the wall. Now it was his turn to kneel.

"Master, I am your servant," was all he could muster. The Cenobite smiled down at him.

It was Saturday and Joey had overslept. She had promised to meet Stan for breakfast at the pier. She dressed hurriedly and drove to the little cafe they frequented. The morning fog was slow in lifting, blocking the coves at the west end of the cliffs.

"Did you find out anymore on the man that died in New York?" Stan asked after they had ordered.

"Oh, the one that went out the window? No, nothing useful, except he had worked at a place I hadn't thought about for a while. The Channard Institute, it closed years ago. He was an orderly there and, after it closed, he moved to the States. No known family or relatives. It's odd..."

"What's that?"

"That he would die in such a ghastly way after surviving what happened at the Institute."

"What did happen?"

Their order arrived and Joey began to eat, changing the subject quickly. Stan began talking about the latest chapter of the book he was writing on alternative religions but Joey's mind was wandering. She was thinking about the Channard Institute and the horrors it had wrought. And her mind inevitably went back to that fateful day in New York City when she had faced him, the one that had changed her perception of reality forever. It had been years ago and yet, thinking about the Cenobite, still made her feel desperate and anxious inside, as if he had never really left, and it just a matter of time before he...

"Joey? Joey!" She turned to see Stan staring in irritation.

"I'm sorry."

"You haven't heard a word I said, have you?" Stan's face eased.

"I am sorry, honey, I just have a lot on my mind. The book, yes, I can't wait to read the next chapter." She reached for his hand and smiled.

After breakfast, they walked along the cliffs, intermittent fog danced at their feet. Joey had the strangest feeling of being watched and glanced back. The man was standing at the top of the cliffs watching the couple. Their eyes met for only an instant but Joey shuddered.

"Cold?" Stan asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"No. It's that man up there. He's been watching us. Gives me the creeps."

Stan looked toward the dunes. "Where is he?"

"Right there. Well, he was; he's gone now. But he was just standing and staring..."

"And I thought writers were suppose to be the ones with over active imaginations."

"I'm not imagining things. He was there. Please don't patronize me."

"Sorry. Well, he's gone now. Probably just out walking his dog. C'mon, let's go for a drive up the coast."

They started back with Joey checking over her shoulder every few minutes.

Kirsty walked down Westwood and did her grocery shopping. She had noticed the woman as she passed and then on the way back to the dorm. She was standing and watching Kirsty. The woman's clothes were soiled and stained and her hair was in desperate need of a brush. But it was her eyes that were so unsettling and they never strayed from Kirsty's direction. By the time she reached the traffic light at Le Conte, the woman was immediately behind her. Kirsty looked back once and crossed the street. She could almost feel the woman dogging her steps. When she stepped onto the curb she turned around to confront the woman bumping into two college students instead.

"Excuse me," they laughed sarcastically and walked on. Kirsty surveyed the intersection but the woman had disappeared. Frowning, she walked on, shuddering for no apparent reason.

"Souls are what I need." The Cenobite was saying. "Brave souls, old souls, many souls. And you will help me."

"Yes, master," Jennings bowed. "I will do as you command."

"And the girls?"

"We have located them. One is here in the city; the other upstate. We will have them both before long."

"Good. They are to be brought to me, unharmed. I've waited so long for this. I want them as healthy as possible before their decades of pain. Now go and find me souls."

"As you wish, master," Jennings bowed once more and retreated. The Gatherers were waiting outside in the alley.

"Go and bring back as many people as you can find. Tell them anything but bring them here. You two will stand guard. How many are at the house?"

"There are five of us there at present."

"Good. Rotate guards every twelve hours. The box must never be left unguarded."

Stan and Joey filled the day with the artist's festival in Monterey, lunch at Giovanni's and a film at the Silent Revue. It was a beautiful, magical day with perfect weather and perfect company. When they drove back to her car at the wharf, it was six o'clock.

"I had a great time." Stan ran his fingers through her hair.

"Me, too," Joey's smile was brief. "Do you really have to drive to Los Angeles tonight?"

"Yes, we've been through this, honey. Mom's too ill to leave the house. I must take care of some things for her. I'll be back tomorrow night. We'll have dinner. Okay?"

"Of course. It's just that I have this feeling, you know...never mind; I'm just being silly. Have a safe trip." They kissed and embraced. She exited the car and watched him drive away. And she saw the man at the end of the street. The same man that had been on the cliffs. He was standing at the corner and for a second time, their eyes met. She hurried into her apartment.

She checked her phone messages, fed the cat and ran a bath. She hadn't noticed the sliding glass door was open ever so slightly; the ocean breeze rustling the drapes softly. She undressed and lowered herself into the warm bathtub. Relaxing, she closed her eyes and let go of the day. And then arms were grabbing her, pulling her up and out of the tub. She tried to scream as a washcloth was shoved violently into her mouth. She tasted her own blood as the blow from a right hook clipped her on the chin. The pain was her final memory as she lost consciousness.

Fleeting moments of cognizance permeated her mind which told her irrationally that she was bound and gagged in the trunk of a moving automobile. She could hear the road noise and the rotation of the tires. Having suffered from claustrophobia since she was a child, the knowledge of being in such a confined space panicked her. She closed her eyes tight and after a time, fell asleep.

When she awoke, she was in a dark place; the ground was hard and cold. She sat up with difficulty, her arms had been bound behind her and her ankles were tied together. Her jaw ached and her body felt bruised. She was relieved to find she was dressed as she tried without much success to accustom her eyes to the dim light. The gag had been removed and she could feel with her tongue that her lip was swollen. She tried to stand by moving against the wall but found it a difficult task.

"It's no use," said a voice in the darkness.

"Who's there?" Joey looked around the blackness.

"My name is Kirsty. What's yours?"

"Joey. Where are we?"

"Haven't a clue. How did you get here?"

"I was in my apartment taking a bath. Someone hit me. That's all I remember."

"I was taking a nap. Someone covered my mouth and tied me up. They carried me out to a car and put me in the trunk. I think I kicked one of them. They blindfolded me and brought me here. I think we're in some kind of warehouse. I heard a metal door shut when they brought me in."

"How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure. They brought you in maybe two hours ago."

"We've got to get out of here!" Joey was wringing her hands behind her back trying to loosen the ropes. She could feel the fibers cutting into her wrists.

"The door's metal with no handle. I managed to crawl over there. It's locked tight."

"We must be in the industrial district of Monterey."

"Monterey? I don't think so. I wasn't in the trunk of the car that long. We must still be in LA."

"Los Angeles?"

"Of course, maybe the Valley."

"Do you live in LA?"

"I'm a grad student at UCLA. What do you do?"

"I'm a news reporter for a TV station in Monterey." She paused for a moment. "My boyfriend is in Los Angeles, visiting his mother." She mouthed the words, more for herself than her listener. None of this made sense. If she was in LA, why had she been brought here? And what did the girl have to do with this?

"Are we alone?" Joey asked.

"As far as I can tell. Why?"

"There has to be a reason we've both been abducted. Tell me about yourself. Let's see if there is a common denominator."

"Okay," Kirsty thought for a moment. "Well, I told you I'm a student. A psychology major."

"Have you lived in Los Angeles long?"

"Five years."

"Where did you live before that?"

Kirsty hesitated. She didn't know this woman and the truth was more than she was willing to share. "That's a difficult question."

"Why?"

Before she could answer the bolt was drawn back and the heavy door slid sideways. Light flooded the chamber, blinding the two women. Before their eye could adjust, they were blindfolded. Hands picked them up roughly, released the bindings on their ankles and escorted them into the light. After they walked about ten yards, their guides halted and the blindfolds were removed.

Their gasp was simultaneous. He stood before them, arms folded across his chest, a wry smile passed over his face.

"Welcome to both of you." The Cenobite said. "We have gone to such great lengths to bring you here. And for such a happy reunion. It is said revenge is sweet' and this is going to be the sweetest of all. Ahhh, you don't seem particularly happy to see me."

The women exchanged glances.

"Kirsty Cotton." Joey said with awe.

"You know me?" Kirsty asked.

"I know of you." She turned to Pinhead. "What are you going to do with us?"

He smiled. "At the moment, I have arranged a small entertainment. I still have such sights to show you. I hope you'll be as amused as I." He nodded to a shadowed corner and the Gatherers filed in, creating a circle around the women. They watched the group as several more entered, dragging uncooperative bodies between them. They stood before the Cenobite.

There were three victims: two males and a female. They had been beaten and apparently drugged. Their heads hung low and they could not stand without help. One of the males looked up groggily.

"Stan!" Joey screamed. Pinhead's look was one of brief surprise.

"You always seem to hurt the one's you love, Joey." He nodded toward the three. Chains seemed to materialize in thin air, hooking into the garments and flesh of his victims. As they cried out in pain, the final chain ripped through their throats, opening their jugular. They fell, gasping their final breaths and clutching at their severed necks in a futile attempt to stop the blood.

"No, Stan!" Joey cried. She turned to the Cenobite. "You bastard!" Tears stung her eyes making it difficult to see the cold stare of her captor. The women watched in horror as the wall parted and unseen hands dragged the lifeless bodies into the light. As they disappeared, two figures stepped free of the wall. They were grotesque, elegant and female. They bowed to their leader and took their place next to him.

"Oh, God, Terri," Joey winced.

"I thought all of them were destroyed." Kirsty looked to Joey who shook her head.

"Leviathan will be pleased." The Cenobite said. He turned to his captives. "The entertainment is over for tonight, regrettably. But tomorrow we will begin our own game, just the three of us and gradually, over time, I will find the things that make you beg for mercy. We will explore the depths of pain together, slowly, and when I finish with you, I will send you to Leviathan, also."

"Why not just kill us now and be done with it?" Kirsty screamed.

The Cenobite thought for a moment before answering. "I'm not in the mood." He nodded to several of the Gatherers and watched as they dragged the women back to their cell.

"Why are you doing this?" Joey asked desperately of the men. "Do you know what he is."

"Yes, our master." One of the Gatherers answered as they propelled the women into the darkness.

"He's a monster!" Kirsty said. "Why are you helping him?"

"We were alone. We had lost our way, our reason for living and then our leader found us and gave us a purpose. He knew the power of the box and the power of our master. He has promised us eternal life and the answers we seek. We searched for the box and we found it and we have gathered together for this. He will lead us to eternity."

"You are the Gatherers?"

"Yes." The door rolled shut. The women listened as the bolt was drawn.

They sat in the darkness for some time before either spoke. "I know why I'm here," Kirsty finally offered, "but what about you? And how do you know me?"

"It's long story."

"I think we have time. You knew that man he killed?"

Yes. He was a good friend. I loved him."

"I'm sorry. I lost everything because of ...."

"I know. I guess I'd better tell you my side of the story." Joey related her contact with the Cenobite as she worked her bindings loose around her wrists and stood against the wall. "We have to get out of here."

"How?"

Joey pulled one hand free from the ropes; her wrist stung where the fibers had cut into her flesh. "We'll think of a way." She untied Kirsty and both felt their way to the door. It was solid metal and impenetrable. They sat in the darkness and waited. After what seemed liked hours, a faint noise was heard outside the cell. The bolt on the door was pulled back.

"Someone's coming. This may be our chance." Joey rose and stood ready by the door, waiting. Nothing happened.

"That was the door, wasn't it?" she whispered to the darkness.

"Yes." Kirsty whispered back. Joey pulled on the door with her palms. It slid open. Kirsty followed and they stood in the doorway, listening.

"I don't hear anything."

"Let's go." They darted out into the deserted hallway. "This way, I think."

You think?" Kirsty queried. "If you're wrong, we could be heading back to him."

"C'mon, trust me." They ran down the hall to the corner, tuned right and continued to a door.

"Let's hope it leads outside." Joey said.

"Let's hope." It did. They raced down the alley and into the street. It was dark with very little traffic moving.

"Must be late." Kirsty commented.

"Where are we?" They surveyed the area; they were surrounded by old tenement buildings covered in graffiti. The sidewalks were dirty and smelled of urine.

"Looks like east Hollywood. Yes, that's Western." Kirsty frowned. "We're not in very good part of town."

"Would you rather go back inside?" Joey spied a black and white turning the corner. "C'mon, it's a patrol car."

"Wait. Don't tell them anything. Let's just get to my place and re-group."

"Why?"

"If we send them back there, we'll be signing their death warrant."

Joey hesitated, then nodded. They made up a story about Kirsty's car being stolen; after filling out a report, they were driven home.

"Do you really have a car?" Joey asked.

"Yes, it's on campus. At least I hope it is; that's where I left it."

"There is only way he could be here: the box."

"I know. The Gatherers have it."

"We have to find it." Joey thought for a moment. "Where would they keep it?"

"I'm exhausted." Kirsty collapsed across her bed.

"When will your roommate be home?"

"She went to Big Bear for the weekend."

"Good. We'll crash for a few hours and then come up with a plan."

"I hope you have some idea of what that will be." Kirsty closed her eyes.

"So do I," Joey said to a dozing Kirsty.

"How did they escape?" The Cenobite bellowed as he paced in front of the Gatherers.

"I don't know, master. They were gone when I relieved Donner from his guard."

"Donner." The man looked down, not wanting to meet the Cenobite's piercing gaze. "How did they slip through your fingers?"

"I swear, master, I was only away from the chamber a brief moment to relieve myself. No one was around. I don't know how..."

"And yet they are gone."

Donner continued to stare at the ground. He couldn't confess that he felt sorry for the girls. They were so pretty and young and couldn't face watching them die. He just couldn't.

"Donner? I will not ask again..." The Cenobite said. But he didn't need to ask. He had read it all in the man's mind. He knew what had happened.

"I didn't see anything, I swear."

"And you never will again. I swear." The hooks on the chains pierced his eyes so quickly it took Donner a moment to realize he had been blinded. His cry was that of a whipped dog as the chains threw back, taking his corneas out of their sockets. The instrument was off Pinhead's belt and through the man's chest before he had time to yelp once more. He staggered grasping the knife through bloodied fingers and fell at the Cenobite's feet.

"I want the girls found and quickly." The Gatherers ran for the nearest exits.

With the dawn, the women drove back to the warehouse and parked a street away with a full view of the alley entrance and side street. And they waited.

"You're right. This is a lousy part of town." Joey sipped her hot coffee.

"This was the best idea you could come up with?" Kirsty yawned.

"It stands to reason they wouldn't keep the box here. It has to be somewhere safe, away from Pinhead. Hopefully, one of his followers will lead us to it."

"And then what?"

Joey hesitated. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"I was afraid you'd say that." She giggled. "Pinhead?"

"Wait." Two of the men were exiting the alley in a black dented Ford sedan. They turned right and headed for Western.

"This could be it." Joey started the car and followed cautiously. The Ford turned left on Western and headed up toward the freeway.

"We'll lose them if they get on the 101." Kirsty stated. The car merged onto the freeway and increased speed. Joey followed as closely but as inconspicuously as possible. It exited in North Hollywood and continued right on Magnolia, turning left on Vineland. They followed for miles, Vineland became Sunland and civilization gave way to empty dirt fields and then finally, empty dirt roads with potholes the size of basketballs.

"I hope you're insured." Joey muttered as the car lurched and dipped into the undulating road.

The black sedan stopped at a dilapidated farmhouse that appeared to have been abandoned for decades. The men exited the car and went inside.

"I don't like the look of this." Joey put the car in reverse and jutted off the road into the brush.

"What are you doing?" Kirsty asked incredulously. The car mowed through the high grass until it rounded to the back of the house. Joey turned the engine off and exited from the driver's side.

"You coming?"

Kirsty sat for a moment before getting out. Joey was heading for the farmhouse. It wasn't as deserted from the back. Several people loitered near the back door, two were carrying firearms.

"Great...guns." Kirsty caught up with Joey.

"I hadn't figured on that. This has to be it. Why else would they come to such a remote place?" Joey thought for a moment. "If we wait until dark..."

"It's 10:30 in the morning! We're going to sit here in this flea infested grass until the sun goes down?"

"No. We need a few things. We'll come back." They headed back to the car and drove into the city. Joey stopped at a phone booth, looked up an address and drove to a surplus store. Her purchases included two flashlights, a canteen, a hunting knife and a machete.

"I hope the machete's for the grass," Kirsty said on the way back to the car.

Joey turned to face her. "They have guns. We can't get one without a waiting period and we don't have time to wait. We need to arm ourselves with something. What would you suggest?"

"But these people are human. They have just been seduced by his power. I can't kill a... real person." Kirsty stared at the knife in Joey's hands.

"We may not be able to make that distinction. We need the box and if they have it, we may have to take it by force. If we can avoid bloodshed, we will. But sending him back to hell is our first priority. Right?"

Kirsty didn't answer.

"Am I right?" Joey demanded.

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Let's get something to eat and then wait for the sun to set."

The Gatherers had been busy. They had rounded up several prostitutes, vagrants and homeless. With the promise of easy money and a hot meal, they had managed to bring them to the warehouse. The Cenobites were very inventive in the architecture of the deaths. Each met a varied but horrific demise and Pinhead was ultimately pleased.

"They were very satisfying victims," Angelique said. Pinhead nodded.

"As long as we can appease Leviathan, we will be allowed to remain on this plane. And I want to stay." He turned to the female. "I want my revenge."

"Against the women? Why are they so important?" She whispered.

"They are the only ones that know of our existence, except for these pitiful followers. Once I have sent them to Hell, along with the Gatherers, then my anonymity here will be assured. And I can rule incognito as long as Hell is content."

"Sending all of these souls will keep Leviathan happy." Angelique grew silent and retreated as Jennings approached.

I'm glad this building is soundproof," proffered Jennings. He eyed the female Cenobites with distrust.

"One should always enjoy their chosen profession." Pinhead answered. "Have you found our missing guests?"

"No. It's as though they disappeared . The Cotton girl's automobile is gone. Maybe they left town."

"Not likely. They wouldn't leave without telling me good-bye." He frowned ever so slightly. "I want them found before dawn. Singly they are a threat; together they could be... Armageddon."

"Yes, master." He bowed, trembling and took his leave.

It was dark. The women were in position outside the farmhouse. Several lights were on, revealing the cracked paint and peeling wallpaper of the interior. There seemed to be less people about than earlier.

"Well, that's a good sign; less to deal with." Under the cover of darkness, they ran for the back door. Joey tried the knob; it was not locked. She nodded to Kirsty and opened it slightly, slipping inside first. There was no one in the room which they now realized was the kitchen. It was littered with paper trash and half eaten sandwiches that were now alive with vermin. Kirsty winced.

Voices could be heard from the hallway. They were muffled and just barely above a whisper. The women waited on either side of the doorway. They hadn't heard the back door open.

"Welcome," the women said, "we've been waiting for you."

Instinctively, Joey dove for the women before she had time to aim the rifle. She knocked her out the back door and into the dirt, driving the hunting knife up into her rib cage, piercing her heart. The women was dead in seconds. Joey rose, bloodied, shaken and out of breath.

"I killed her." Her face was wet with perspiration and tears.

"It couldn't be helped. Come on. Someone might have heard. Let's go." Kirsty grabbed her arm.

Joey stood for a moment and then recovered. "Not without the box," she pulled Kirsty's arm away and ran back inside.

They slipped through the empty hallway, checking the small rooms adjacent to the kitchen. The hall opened up into the larger living room and there it sat. One lonely table furnished the room and the box sat atop, covered with a glass dome. Two men were sitting out on the front porch, smoking and talking. Joey lifted the dome as Kirsty grabbed the box, watching the men every second. If one turned toward the light or caught a glimpse of their shadows, it would be over. They ran down the hall to the kitchen and out the back door.

Once the car was back on the dirt road, Kirsty stared at the cube she cradled.

"I never thought I would hold one of these again, ever."

"We're halfway there." Joey thought aloud.

"Next step?"

"We have to get close to Pinhead."

"And how do you plan on accomplishing that feat and staying in one piece?"

"Good question." She stopped the car on Magnolia. "One of us will have to be kidnapped again."

"Are you crazy? That will get one of us killed!"

"No, the other will follow. We know where Pinhead is; once inside we'll use the box and send him home. For the final time, I hope."

"And which of us is going to volunteer for this suicide mission?"

"Have you always been so negative?"

"Just since I met the Cenobites."

Joey reached into her pocket. "I'll flip you for it. Heads or tails, call it."

"You are crazy! Heads."

The coin landed on the back of her left hand. "Tails," she sighed. "I'm IT."

Kirsty hesitated. "No, I'll go. I have a better chance with you doing the rescuing. I know my limitations." She handed the box to Joey. "Just remember, my life is literally in your hands." Joey nodded, grasping the box.

Jennings met the men at the warehouse door and conferred with them intently. He didn't notice the female Cenobite approaching.

"What is it?" she asked.

He hesitated. "The box has been stolen. And one of us has been murdered."

"By the women?"

"It would appear so, yes." He licked his lips apprehensively.

"He will not be pleased." She smiled and added. "You can tell him."

All the color drained from Jennings face as he watched Pinhead stroll in his direction.

Getting herself noticed and kidnapped proved more difficult than Kirsty had anticipated. She walked up and down Western for several blocks before meeting one of the Gatherers and it took more than a double take for him to recognize her. But it was a matter of a split second before he was on her and dragging her into the alley. Although there were several people on the street, no one came to her assistance. After all, this was Los Angeles. As they rounded the corner, she spied Joey watching from her car across the street.

"I have her!" The follower screamed as he entered the warehouse. His voice resounded in a myriad of echoes off the metal walls.

The Cenobites moved forward into the muted light. "Kirsty, how nice to see you again." Pinhead turned to her captor. "Where did you find her?"

"Outside on the street."

"Then the other can't be far away." Angelique offered.

He caressed Kirsty's cheek, "Where is she, my dear friend? What scheme have you hatched together?" He squeezed her chin. "I know you stole the box; Joey has it and you're here as a decoy, is that it?" He squeezed harder. "Perhaps you need a little persuasion to be more ebullient." The chains grabbed Kirsty's wrists and pulled her high into the air. She screamed as another set bound her around the waist and ankles, pulling tight. Her feet felt heavy as concrete and her arms ached. The Cenobites watched as the ground opened beneath her and light shot out, illuminating the room and Joey. She stepped forward.

"She has the box," Terri gasped.

"You really aren't very clever," Pinhead said. "I expected more from you both. Ah, well..."

The box fell to the floor and sat very still. For an instant, Joey was afraid she hadn't worked the configuration properly. Then the box raised and lowered once, then twice around itself. The Cenobites watched it with familiar terror. The Gatherers clustered around them, trying to shield them from the box. But it was too late. The blue ray caught hold of Terri first, and as she fought against unseen hands, she vaporized into the box. Next, it was Angelique's turn; it enveloped her and she cried out as the light folded her once, twice, three times and she disappeared. Pinhead stood staring at the Gatherers that shielded him from the box but he knew it was a futile attempt. It passed through the humans and caught hold of him and as he writhed in pain, he called to the women. "It isn't over, you know."

"Yes, it is," Joey yelled as the light sucked him into the box. The hole in the floor closed just as Kirsty fell heavily upon it. Joey rushed to her side.

"Are you okay?"

"I think my arm's broken." Joey caught a glimpse of one of the Gatherers heading for the box. She tripped him and managed to fall across the box. "Let's get out of here!" She lifted the cube and caught Kirsty by her good arm. They were out the door with the followers in hot pursuit. The Gatherers bounced off the car as the women locked the doors and started the engine. Joey began blowing the horn and the car lurched forward, striking one of the followers and running over his foot. Then they were away. Joey watched as the Gatherers stood in the middle of the street, watching the car disappear down Sunset.

They spent three hours at UCLA Medical Center having Kirsty's arm set and waiting for the cast to dry.

"There are other boxes," Jennings was saying.

"But we haven't a clue where they are located," the woman said.

"We have failed." Jennings said flatly.

The Gatherers sat in a circle in the warehouse on the very spot where the Cenobites had disappeared back into the box. They nodded toward Jennings. He picked up the straight razor in front of him and the rest followed. He slit his right wrist and then his left; the men and women in the circle did the same. And they sat, watching the blood run out of their veins, onto the concrete floor where it dissolved instantly. Then they fell prone, right or left, their frozen eyes fixed in a death stare. The floor began to glow.

The boat to Catalina was launching from the Long Beach pier. The women took their place on the starboard side and sat quietly for a few minutes as the ship left the harbor.

"Does it itch?" Joey asked.

"Like crazy," Kirsty answered, staring at the cast. "But it was worth it." She smiled.

Fifteen minutes out, they rose and walked over to the railing.

"Looks pretty deep." Joey offered. Kirsty nodded. They looked around and once certain no one was paying any attention to them, Joey opened her handbag, cradled the box for a moment and tossed it overboard. They watched it descend into the depths of the murky Pacific.