It's All For The Best

It's All For The Best

by Joe Flanagan

Many fans have reacted vehemently to the cavalier way that the character of Victoria Winters was killed off so suddenly and off script during the Leviathan storyline. This is my attempt to right (or re-write) that wrong. It's All for the Best.

Victoria, Olivia Corey, Mr. Best

Falling, Falling, FALLING! But not from a hangman's scaffold this time, rather from the cliffs overlooking Widows’ Hill, into what must have been some sort of bottomless pit. But with one important difference—the end, frighteningly, never came.

One moment, only a short while after Vicki left 18th century Collinwood for what she believed would be the final time, she reunited at last with her destiny, for that had to be what Jeff Clark, no Peter Bradford MUST be...

The reason Liz Stoddard originally summoned her to Collinsport, for it seemed that her familial origins had been nothing more than wishful thinking and a dead end. The real key was for her to meet and connect with Peter in a century that was not her own.

But, that young man who seemed to come out of nowhere and snatched her away from the safe influence of her beloved. Who was he, and why did he have such apparent animosity towards her? It almost didn't make sense, except for two issues—the first being more direct.

That hurtling figure launching himself at her had mentioned Barnabas. Vicki's life had revolved around that particular name, for better or worse, since the "cousin from England's" arrival so suddenly in 1967. Everything that had happened to her since that fateful day seemed to always return to that constant, either the manifestation in the future, or the ancestor in 1790s Massachusetts. And, for often more than a brief moment, it became harder and harder for Victoria Winters to differentiate the two, as they appeared to be the same person.

The second thought was both confusing and disturbing—for Vicki had briefly vibed the presence of this man in the Collinwood of the future, and strongly connected to Carolyn Stoddard. That feeling terrified her more than the actions of this entity, who for some as yet unknown purpose had taken it upon himself to terminate her existence.

But, her life had not ended with her death—rather, she seemed to be suspended in some sort of Limbo. And, if she weren't already in the 18th century, it eerily felt as it had the night of that original séance, which had first deposited her in the past.

No, could it be that it was now happening in reverse, and she would eventually find herself standing in present day Collinsport, separated yet again?

"Peter!" It was both a desperation yell and a sob of despair. And, as if in response to her plea, the fog lifted and she appeared to be standing in a grand lobby of sorts, although strangely empty and lacking any activity.

However, she was startled by the sudden appearance of a young man dressed as a bellhop, who from his tone and manner, inexplicably seemed to have been given advance notice of her impending arrival.

"Miss Winters. Victoria Winters, please follow me..."

Vicki wanted to ask questions, but with her guide being single-minded in purpose, she knew that her queries would not find refuge, at least with him. Was he therefore taking her to meet someone else?

Her heart sank as they arrived at their destination—a hotel room. But as the bellman fumbled for the key to unlock it, Vicki noticed a somewhat distressed, striking redhead leaving her room down the hall. Vicki called out to her, the woman looked up and suddenly everything changed. The woman, the hall, the bellhop all gone, replaced by an admonishing voice coming from behind where she now stood.

"Now, now, Miss Winters, all in good time..."

Vicki whirled around and found herself looking down at a rather unassuming small man behind an enormous desk. She needn't ask his identity, because an equally garish-sized nameplate took up more than enough space with two words.

MR BEST

Vicki couldn't help the sarcastic tone of her subsequent question.

"Is that your name or a personal critique of your accomplishments?"

His answer, however, was short and serious.

"Both, if you must know, my child. Your next question is why are you here? Quite simply, because it was not yet your time..."

Vicki reigned her frustration in. "What happened on Widows’ Hill, and why? It's obvious you know..."

Mr. Best hadn't moved, but now he was no longer behind the desk but standing face to face.

"Jeb Hawkes is an impatient, rash young man—an often fatal flaw in a leader and especially in a group with an agenda like the Leviathans. Barnabas has betrayed their cause, and for that, Jeb felt that he should be punished in various ways, most of which are unimportant for you to know, but his irrational decision to hurt Barnabas by flinging you off that cliff was both unnecessary and flawed. First, he never confronted Mr. Collins with the devastating information of your apparent demise and his hand in it. But, most importantly as I previously mentioned, it was most definitely not your time."

Returning this time visibly to his spot behind the desk and regaining his seat, Best continued.

"You will of course remain here until the proper time comes for your return. That day is yet to be determined. Our actions neither directly interfere with Leviathan plots or your actual lifeline. Here, time is meaningless and for that reason, you will not age. Now, return to your room and rest."

He was gone, and Vicki found herself alone, now inside her otherwise unoccupied hotel room. Questions remained, but she was indeed exhausted, and collapsed into a deep slumber on the bed.

Countless weeks of endless monotony ensued, and Vicki's curious queries to Best were either brushed entirely aside or she was admonished about their timing or her impatience. She encountered the ginger woman on a few occasions from afar, and it always appeared that extremely fortuitous interruptions would distract Vicki long enough for the woman to make her escape.

Then, one particular morning months later, Vicki arrived for breakfast and found that the redhead was the only other person in the restaurant. Walking to the table she occupied, the former governess was pleased when the woman looked up and greeted her intrusion with a wide smile, putting Vicki at ease.

"Miss Winters, please have a seat. Mr. Best suggested that it was finally time for us to have a chat. My name is Olivia Corey, but I was first known to the Collins family as Amanda Harris in 1897. As Olivia I returned to Collinwood in 1969 searching for my lost love, Quentin Collins. But, fate, which had once given me a chance at life, also meant the double edged sword that is Mr. Best. I found Quentin, but was lost him again when we disobeyed the rules."

Vicki was puzzled. Another new Collins, this one named Quentin. "So, you both were transported to present day Collinwood?"

Discomfort distorted Olivia's facial features for a brief moment. "Not exactly. Quentin and I share a connection to portraits of ourselves, in that their existence allows us to never age. We lived full lives elsewhere in the intervening years, always searching, until fate brought us together again at Collinwood."

Unsure whether to accept Ms. Corey's explanation, Vicki's thoughts immediately focused on the portrait of Angelique she herself had unwittingly reintroduced to the Collins Estate after her uncertain and frightening journey into the past, back to the year 1795. That proved that all things were possible, even an otherworldly physical connection to a painting.

Amanda continued, "I have been promised a difficult, but additional chance to again be with Quentin and my return to Collinsport will begin soon. So, be patient. Your own time will soon arrive. Now, I must go. Listen carefully and completely to whatever instructions Mr. Best gives you and follow them explicitly. Good luck."

Vicki watched as Olivia Corey began to exit the eating establishment, but she faded from view before stepping a few feet. So, Amanda's adventure had already commenced, and Victoria Winters could only imagine and hope that her own return to reality was imminent.

Joe Flanagan is an original Running Man, who raced home faithfully from school every weekday to watch Dark Shadows shortly after Jonathan Frid introduced the Barnabas character in 1967. He has been actively involved in DS fandom since the early 1980s and until 1987 was a writer and co-editor of a print fanzine The Eagle Hill Sentinel. Other DS-themed writings include Volume 1 of The Diaries of Julia Hoffman, an additional Parallel Collinwood that featured an evil Victoria Winters and an anniversary collection of The Collinsport TV Guide (a parody of programs that residents of the town may have watched and/or participated in).

Currently residing in his hometown of Philadelphia, he is a major contributor of content to a number of DS Facebook pages, including the management of The Many Faces of Nancy Barrett tribute site.