Welcome to the Darkling Crossover Series. I own nothing but the plot and Darkling Jade Rowe. This is Tale 1 in the "How She Met..." series. Enjoy!

The Day She Moved In

"Okay. I can do this," Darkling Jade Rowe said, squaring her shoulders. The small, narrow, run-down cottage in front of her seemed to darken ominously as the sun set dramatically behind a forest of dead trees. She barely noticed the taxi driver behind her as he stomped on the gas and sped fearfully towards the exit of Halloweentown. A narrow decrepit stone tower interrupted the black shingled roof on the north side. Grey peeled from the wooden walls. A shingle on the cottage slipped on the roof and fell suddenly, and Darkling slouched as it crashed and shattered on the broken pavement lining the path to the front porch.

"Who am I kidding?" she asked herself, fretfully twirling a lock of her hair around a finger. "Halloweentown? It's a place for spooks and ghouls. The mayor was freaky enough when I visited last week. I mean, a two-faced mayor…literally? I can't live here!"

But Darkling knew that she had no choice. She had to make this work…the realtor said that this was the only area with housing for her kind of price range. And now she knew why. She gathered up her bag and wheeled her large trunk over the broken path. Darkling figured that until she got used to the goings-on of the creepy little town, it was probably best not to interact with the locals until she was settled in and established.

And it was also probably a good idea not to remain outside after dark for a while.

So Darkling approached the run-down double-story home, gingerly climbing up the front steps (which were apparently much sturdier than they appeared), crossing the porch (sagging, but once again, solid), and opened the screen door. It gave a spine-shivering creak as it was opened, but it was firmly attached to the doorframe…and while the wood on the door looked old and rotting (not to mention, the black paint job was peeling), it was actually stable and secure.

Apparently the house was just supposed to look creepy, run-down, and abandoned. Nothing was as it seemed.

Nevertheless, as Darkling fit the key into the front door and turned the lock smoothly, she was dreading the inside…the realtor said it was furnished, yes, but how much? Was there a stool? A couch? How dirty was it? How dusty? Were there cobwebs everywhere? Roaches?

Her thoughts slid to a halt when Darkling opened the door. She dropped her scant belongings on the floor and wandered in.

Oh. My. God, she thought. Pure gothic opulence. Red walls, black ceiling, cherry wood floors and trim…just the long hallway was magnificent! The walls followed into the living room, where electric candelabra provided dim lighting; tall ones in the corners and two short ones gracing either end of the mantelpiece of the fireplace. Thick black carpet matched the leather loveseat and chaise lounge positioned in front of the largest, blackest, entertainment center she had ever seen in such a small house. A black spiral staircase was in the corner, ensconced in a circular tower.

A full bathroom led off the hallway that led to the back door, kitchen, and dining room. The rooms were connected and gently cobbled in grey stone. The blood-red walls of the other rooms altered to a burgundy in the dining room, which sported a cherry wood dining set and was lit by a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the kitchen, black appliances abounded and cherry wood cabinets rose seamlessly from the floor, as did the island in the middle of the kitchen. The pantry space was black, and there was a door that led to the basement.

Thinking that it would be a better idea to explore the basement during the light of day, Darkling briefly glanced at it before she walked back to the living room and the spiral staircase. Climbing the stairs, she came to the master bedroom. The bed was raised from the floor, and a full bathroom was located in the southwest corner. A door faced the east, and opening it, Darkling found herself on a balcony facing the street.

"Okay, this isn't so bad," Darkling said to herself, eyes wide. "So what if the neighborhood is creepy and the sun rarely ever makes its presence known around the near constant cloud cover during the day? The rent is low and the place is pimped."

Not only that, but the refrigerator was stocked as well, Darkling found out a few minutes later after unpacking her few possessions. Though the produce was clearly fresh, she still warily checked the expiration dates on the dairy products, which turned out to be good for another week, at least. Looking into the walk-in pantry, she noticed that there was virtually no available space left for anything, the shelves were stuffed with Mason jars, both empty and some full of clearly recognizable (and labeled) preserved fruits. There were also jars of pasta sauce, applesauce, olives, as well as tons of canned vegetables and fruit cocktails. Then there was pasta and rice and an insane herbal tea collection along with a spice rack that made her knowledge of the subject seem vastly inadequate.

As Darkling walked out of the pantry with a can of basil tomato soup, she glanced at the door that led to the stairs to the basement. She slid to a stop and placed the can on the kitchen island before stepping cautiously closer to the door. It made her nervous – as it would anyone, she assumed, since it not only had a sliding chain lock and a bolt on the side of the door, but also thick bolts that went into the top of the doorframe and the floor. Then there was the two-by-four supported in front of the door by two metal pieces just above the doorknob. What the heck is THAT for? Darkling thought to herself.

Carefully and nearly silently she undid the three bolts, sliding chain before lifting the two-by-four. And, foregoing her plan to inspect the basement the next day, placed her hand on the door knob and twisted.

As the door swung open without a whisper, the shaft of light from the kitchen swept down the stairs. Beyond where the house and its foundation ended was what could only be called a tunnel. Where the house's wooden stairs ended continued a stone staircase that united with the stone walls positioned five feet apart. These walls travelled straight up for several feet before gradually curving to create the ceiling. Once clear of the house's plan, the pathway curved to the right sharply.

Finding a switch, Darkling flicked it on, and a string of light bulbs high on the right wall illuminated the way down. The handrail ended when the wall did, so she made her way around the curve carefully hugging the stone. The turn went around 180 degrees before straightening for a length, and when the stairs ended and became a hallway, she halted. The walls and ceiling widened to end at a clearly man-made wall of concrete ten feet across and ten feet tall. In the middle of the wall sat a door reminiscent of a medieval dungeon; thick and heavy, made of wood and a dark metal, sporting a barred window with a sliding screen, and two bars (supported by fixtures in the wall) across the door that locked it from the inside. An ancient handle and lock was fixed to the right, and an old key hung from the wall a couple feet from the door. A more modern light board had four switches.

"Good grief," Darkling whispered, shivering. She tried to work up her morale to approach the door, but couldn't seem to. "Grow up, girl. What could possibly be in there? A monster? Ha, yeah right. The landlord forgot to exterminate, I'm sure." Her whispers echoed around her in a frightening way.

She stood there for a few moments before stamping her foot in irritation. The sound was loud and startling, and before she lost her nerve she marched over to the door and threw the first switch.

The lights went out and she let out a startled screech before hitting the next one. Light poured from the window on the door, from the room beyond. For a moment Darkling believed that she had heard a low moan and some rustling, but when she peered through the window, nothing was there.

Well, except for the water. And the plant life. That was all she could see, except for tall walls and columns bedecked with vines and a curiously black ceiling. The light, as far as she could tell, was coming from elegant, outdoorsy wall sconces positioned within. The next switch she threw lit a chandelier-like light fixture suspended in the middle of the cavern, and the last started a watery burbling that she couldn't see through the window.

So it was eagerly that she unlocked the door and hurried into an underground paradise that was her basement. It consisted of a huge cavern with tall walls that started curving in until they disappeared into a mysterious blackness that, when she saw the near-full moon suspended in it, Darkling realized was actually the night sky. Tall columns circled the room under the hole in the ceiling, supporting the open edges from collapsing, as well as serving as an anchor for the chandelier that was strung from them. Barring four feet next to the wall, the room was encircled by a moat of clear water between the wall and the soaring pillars. It contained huge koi fish and lily pads, as well as small mounds of rock protruding from the surface. The mounds spouted water from their centers at their positions at the north, east, and west points of the room. Thin flowerbeds surrounded the moat, both outside and in. A stone bridge led to the center of the room, where a granite swimming pool sat – a lap strip with an adjoining lounge pool. A small charming outdoor dining table graced the island on a raised granite platform, as well as a hot tub. Vines grew up and at the base of the pillars and walls and moss carpeted everything not covered by flowerbeds or vines.

It looked so much like a charming and peaceful paradise, Darkling almost forgot why she was down here in the first place. And just as she began to feel comforted that there was no monster locked down here, that the doors were only locked to keep intruders from breaking in, she saw a chilling sight.

On the dining table, so white as to be overlooked on the white paintjob, was a pile of bones. They were fish bones to be more precise, if the dead white koi fish lying next to the bones was any indication.

In fact, the fish was surprisingly fresh. It had obviously been killed within a half hour, as it still glistened with pond water and was partially eaten – raw.

"Ewww!" Darkling exclaimed, wrinkling her nose and turning around. I the corner of her eye she saw a gray shape dart behind pillar.

"Who's there? I saw you! Come out, right now!" Darkling didn't know if she wanted an answer or not, but she was backing up, towards the bridge and door.

The seconds ticked by as she moved, eyes glued to the pillar where the shape was. She stopped as she saw a gray head with straggly hair begin to peek around the column until one large pale green eye emerged. A thin hand with abnormally long fingers tangled in the greenery as the creature regarded her.

"Wh-who are you?" she asked.

The eye blinked slowly. Then, in a high, rattling, gurgling voice, "I is Sméagol. Yes, I is. Some nasty peoples calls me Gollum, but he is gone." As he spoke, the creature seemed to relax more, to the point where he began to move from the pillar and into Darkling's view. She could not help but feel pity for him, he was so emaciated and ill-looking, dressed in nothing but a loincloth. Nevertheless, she couldn't decide whether Sméagol was so ugly he was cute or whether he was just cute. "We is I and us is me. When the old precious died Gollum did too. Now it's just Sméagol. So lonely now I is. Gollum was mean, yes, very cruel he was. But he was never fars from me. Now it's just me."

"Um…don't take this the wrong way, Sméagol, but precisely what are you?"

Sméagol blinked and his face was soft and lank with confusion. "I is Sméagol."

Darkling smiled kindly at him. "Yes, your name is Sméagol, but what kind of creature are you? Like, my name is Darkling, and I am a human." When she saw that he still didn't understand and was actually starting to get a little agitated she said, "You know what, Sméagol? Nevermind. It's okay, I don't need to know that. Why don't you come over here and I will take you upstairs, where I can get you something proper to eat?"

Sméagol glanced at the table bearing the fish he had been devouring before looking at Darkling in puzzlement.

Honestly, he was so cute! Darkling didn't feel the least hesitant about inviting the pitiful creature into her living space. He was just a sad, hungry, lonely little thing that reminded her of an old three-legged stray dog that she took care of when she was a little girl. "Oh, come on, now, Sméagol. That fish can't be very tasty. It's been living down here for so long, and I don't think it has much meat on its bones to be very filling." She held out a hand and waited patiently. "Let us go upstairs."

He glanced at the door longingly. "But I is not allowed upstairs. It is bright, and stinking of good things. The others screamed when they saw me, when I tried to go through the door. Then they shut it and never came down again."

So that's what all the locks were for, she thought. They didn't bother to learn about him, simply shunned him. Out loud she said, "Well, you know what, Sméagol? They don't live here anymore, I do. This is my house now, and I say that you are allowed upstairs if you want to go. If the light is too bright for you, I can dim it for you a bit."

His eyes lit with a brightness that could almost have been hope. "Yes mistress? I can gos up the stairs? I wants to, if you will lets me."

"Then come along," Darkling said stretching her hand out again.

Sméagol crawled towards her on all fours, much like an ape. He slid his cold, damp hand into hers and stood on his feet. Darkling led him to the door, switching off the lights. "Can you lead me up the stairs, Sméagol? I'll go inside first so I can dim the lights for you."

Sméagol was all too eager to do as his mistress requested. In his mind, Sméagol had lived in the basement of this house that was not his, and now that it belonged to her, she was the mistress of the house, and therefore him, as long as he lived there. He waited as patiently as possible after she crossed the threshold.

As soon as Darkling had dimmed the lights and opened the door, Sméagol came through, clinging to her skirts. He was curious, but also a bit afraid. Darkling taught him how to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island before asking, "What would you like to eat, Sméagol? I'm pretty sure that this house has almost anything that we could desire."

"Fish, mistress, can I has fish?"

Darkling was startled. "Are you sure? You can have anything you want."

Sméagol's eyes widened as he looked at her, pleading with her to understand. "Gollum said that all we could eats was fish. Everything else was poison, he said. We would die if we ate anything else."

Darkling was worried about the fear in his subservient voice, as if his answer would get him struck. "It's okay, Sméagol, you can have fish, but I promise nothing else will poison you. Will you try some other things, too, just to see how you like them?"

"Tonight, mistress?" he asked, eyes avoiding hers, twisting his hands together nervously.

"Just a little tonight, only if you are willing. But I will cook your fish for you."

Sméagol looked at her anxiously. "Cook? For me? Mistress, you can'ts do such a thing. Not for me. Besides, I likes it raw."

Now Darkling put her foot down. "No, Sméagol, I will cook for you, because it's not healthy to eat fish raw this day in age. All sorts of parasites live in fish, and will only die when properly prepared. Parasites are bad. They will poison you, make you sick, and eat you alive. So I will cook your fish. And tomorrow, while I'm going out job hunting, I'm taking you to a doctor to get checked out."

Sméagol submitted to her dominance with only a bit of distress and more than a little trepidation. "I will eats what you cook, mistress. I don't know about parasites, but I will do as you say since you know. Poor Sméagol will go to this doctor tomorrow, only…" He looked at her sadly. "Will you stay with me the whole time? And not let this doctor hurt me?"

Darkling smiled kindly. "Of course, Sméagol."

After finding the saltines in the pantry, Darkling gave him one to see how he'd take it. Sméagol took it gingerly in his long fingers, sniffed it, licked it. He grimaced at the salt at first, but once the taste had a moment to settle in his mouth, he looked thoughtfully at the cracker before nibbling it. Leaving him to his cracker, she took some oil from the pantry and frozen salmon from the refrigerator, as well as a lemon from the fruit basket.

When she brought out a skillet and started cooking, Sméagol climbed down from the barstool and came to her.

"What is it, mistress? What is that?" he asked, pointing to the bottle of olive oil.

"It's oil. Here," Darkling said, taking his hand and dabbing one of his fingers with a bit of oil. "Taste it, Sméagol."

He obeyed, his eyebrows raised, and he looked at her. "This is good. Very strange, good. What is that?" he asked pointing to the lemon.

"This is a lemon," she said, squeezing a couple drops on the finger he offered to her. She laughed when his face twisted.

"That is not good, precious. It is bad. Bad, bad, bad."

Darkling laughed again. "Don't worry, I'm only going to use a little bit. You'll like it, I promise."

"What is that," Sméagol now asked, pointing to the rectangular blocks of pinkish-red salmon meat.

"Those are filets of salmon. Salmon is a type of fish," she added, just in case he didn't know.

"Hmm."

She looked down at him. "Would you like to grab a stool to sit on and watch me cook?"

Without answering, he went and got one, dragging it loudly over to the tile to the counter. The rest of the cooking went without event. The little emaciated creature avidly watched the girl cook five filets. Every movement was monitored; many questions were asked and answered until they finally sat at the dining room table after an interesting experience washing hands at the sink. Darkling laughed over Sméagol's reaction to salmon – wide eyes grew impossibly wider when he took his first bite. He gobbled three filets with his hands while Darkling ate one with a fork, watching his enthusiasm with a smile. When Sméagol got to the last filet he frowned for a moment and looked at Darkling, finishing her first. Then he wailed, "Nooo! Sméagol ate all the fish! Bad Sméagol! Please, mistress, don't send me away!"

"Sméagol, it's okay, sweetie. I made it for you. Here, let's split the last one, okay?"

"Nonono," Sméagol sobbed. "I ates all them. Poor ungrateful Sméagol. Bad Sméagol."

Darkling took one of his hands and said, "Sméagol, it's okay. I wasn't very hungry. I made them for you."

He hiccupped and looked at her before averting his eyes and staring at her left cheek. "Mistress is so kind. So nice," he said, petting her hand. When Darkling used her spare hand to split the last filet and dole it out, Sméagol released her shyly, and then picked up a fork. "I know what this is, precious," He said, looking at her. "I do! It is a fork."

"Good job, Sméagol, it is," Darkling looked on fondly while he re-learned how to use it. Sméagol was so pleased to have cut off a piece, he eagerly stabbed it before shoving it in his mouth.

Soon enough they had finished the meal and they both did the dishes together – Sméagol needed no encouragement to stick his hands in the sudsy water and sponge off the dishes. Then Darkling had a thought as she loaded the dishwater.

"Sméagol, would you like to take a bath?"

He tilted his head to the side, much like a dog. "What is this bath?" he asked.

"It is a tub filled with water, like a pond but smaller, and with bubbles, warm water, and soap. You take one to get clean."

Sméagol looked dubiously at the sink, which was draining its water. "Like the dishes, precious?"

Darkling laughed. "Yes, like the dishes. Except we use a different kind of soap. Here, let me show you the tub," she said, taking him to the bathroom.

Hahaha! How'd you like it? I personally think that Sméagol is just so darn cute when he's not homicidal, and I just have to make him like this for the series. Kind of like, if his precious were alive-which Darkling is-what would he be like with it? Next comes Tale 2 and the trip to the doctor and stuff. Hmmm...I wonder who is coming up next. *Evil chuckles.*

Read and Review! I love constructivism! TY and later, alligators!