H.A.T. by Deacon Rayne, Book Two: Midnight, Chapter 8 - Wounds and Words
Sorry the story hasn't been updated in quite some time now. Basilio_the_cat has been swamped with school work, so I, Rachelia, will be taking over the posting duties for the time being. I normally post to the other online archives such as The Spuffy Realm, etc. Hang in there while I get used to Basilio_the_cat's fomatting of posts, but otherwise I hope to maintain the archive and posting as is as much as I can.
Rachelia
Summary: Like a stopper pulled, the retrieval of the Everstone has set loose a maelstrom of powers. Things not dared been mentioned in all the ages of the world, stir and awaken within their putrescent hives in answer to the Hellmouth’s call. Clawing their way free from the poisoned earth, they are driven towards a single goal - the capture of the Key and the destruction of all the world.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Timeline: Immediately follows Book 1: Dusk
Rating: TV-14 (nothing worse than on the show)
Pairing/Characters: Buffy/Spike, Willow/Dusk(OC), Xander/Anya, Giles/Marlena(OC), Dawn, Faith, Angel, Dracula
Book One: Dusk (all chapters)
Previous chapter of Midnight
Banner created by edgehead73.
Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy: Revamped Edition
Book Two:
Midnight
Chapter 8
Wounds and Words
Pain.
Darkness.
(I can’t see.)
Things tight, binding, cutting into skin.
(I can’t move.)
Struggling, heat.
(My face)
Voices now, talking, getting louder, a bright light, pain.
(HELP ME!)
Alec lurched up out of bed, screaming. Willow and Giles grabbed for his left arm, as blades erupted out of the skin of his right arm, which was lashed down just for this reason.
“Alec!” Giles yelled, trying to get his wounded son under control. Alec looked up at him with his one eye through the mask of bandages.
“Shhh!” Willow tried to soothe, stroking his forehead though there was precious little skin left uncovered by gauze.
A tear, a snap and the bonds surrounding Alec’s right arm were torn free. He lurched up, waving the bladed appendage at them, eyes wide yet not seeing, still locked in whatever nightmare he had woken from. The pair backed away hurriedly as Faith rushed into the room.
“D!” she cried out. Like a terrified animal, Alec lurched out of bed attempting to stand. His legs folded under him like wilted flowers. Vainly he tried to steady himself on a wooden table. His bladed arm dug into it knocking it over and spilling a bowl of water and a mirror to the stone floor. All shattered, spraying him with cold water, he fell hard upon the broken glass, cutting himself.
“Alec,” Willow whispered kneeling next to him, careful to avoid the bladed arm, now embedded solidly into the broken remains of the table as Alec looked at himself for the first time in the jagged shards of mirror strewn upon the floor
Nearly his entire face was bandaged, both of his eyes were swollen, one had been ruptured; even now his sclera was a bloody red. His nose had been badly broken and was swathed in bandages. He had several stitches in his face; his jaw was swollen and purple, also bandaged. The effect made his face look like it had been broken into several pieces and then hastily stitched back together.
Trembling, he touched his mutilated face with his fingers, then pulled away as he noticed that he was smearing blood on his soiled bandages. He looked down at his hand and saw a single glittering piece of glass protruding from his palm. The blades retracting from his right arm as his fear and terror gave way to something else, he slowly pulled the glass shard from his palm, grimacing. For a moment he held the piece of red glass before his eyes, his friends and family exchanging worried looks. Numbly the glass fell from his shaking fingers and landed upon the pile of shards, splattering blood upon them. Alec looked down at them and now saw his broken face, tainted with his own blood reflected a thousand times.
Staring right up at him.
And with a low rising wail, Alec slumped as his spirit broke in horror at what the last 24 hours had done to him. Willow grabbed him before he impaled his face upon the pile of broken glass and held him as he sobbed bitterly.
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured rocking him back and forth. Giles and Faith stepped forth to help him to their feet. Alec’s powerless legs could not support him but they managed to get him back on the cot, Willow kissing his face gently. Alec whimpered and tried to cover his face in shame with his bloody hands. Willow gently pushed them aside as Faith took his bloody hand and cleaned and redressed it. Alec looked away, tears running down his face, though no longer weeping, staring at nothing. Willow gently turned his head to face her,
“Hey, stay with me,” she whispered, “Please? I need you here,” She could only just meet his gaze; it was the look of one who had lost all will to live. For someone who had been as strong and vital as her lover, it was devastating to see. Faith finished with Alec’s hand and Willow took it from her, cradling it and placing a kiss on a patch of bare skin,
“I love you,” she whispered. Alec didn’t blink, his expression remained broken, but his hand did tighten around hers just slightly. Willow smiled as Giles rested a hand on his son’s shoulder,
“Son…” he whispered. Alec didn’t react but his heavily bandaged head turned slightly against the pillow toward his father’s voice. Giles took that as a good sign and squeezed his son’s shoulder.
Faith smiled at Alec, “Hey D, welcome back to the land of the living,” she quipped. Alec turned towards the sound, the only sign that he acknowledged anyone had spoken to him. Willow looked up at the two of them,
“Let everyone know he’s awake but tell them he needs his rest. How’s Buffy doing?” she asked Giles. Giles stuck his hands in his jeans and turned his head,
“She seems to be recovering well,” he replied carefully, “Though she too needs a goodly amount of rest,” Buffy had regained consciousness a few days ago, “She’s sleeping now, Spike’s with her,” he finished. Willow nodded and turned to Faith,
“How Ange-?” Suddenly, Willow gasped as Alec’s hand tightened painfully around hers. His breathing became rapid; his eyes opened wide in fear as a low moan of fear and pain came spilling out of his mouth. Willow’s heart leapt into her throat even as she pushed aside the pain in her hand, willing herself to squeeze back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. With agonizing slowness, Alec turned his mutilated face towards Faith. Faith exchanged a confused and panicked look with Giles before answering quickly,
“He’s fine!” she blurted out hurriedly, “We had to dig out a hell of a lot of lead out of his gut but he’s okay!” Willow turned in understanding to face Alec. His face remained pale and taunt for a moment, but then Faith’s words sank in and he relaxed. His death grip upon Willow’s hand relaxed and though her first instinct was to pull away and cradle her wounded appendage, Willow merely held her lover’s hand, giving no indication as to being injured in the least.
“It must have gotten beyond hairy in that cop-house,” Faith murmured. Willow cradled Alec’s broken face sadly taking in his vacant stare of empty despair,
“Yes, it was,” she replied quietly. Alec leaned his head into her touch slightly but his eyes never blinked and never warmed.
“So how is he?” Spike asked Faith a few minutes later. Faith looked over at him,
“He had his face pulverized, he was tortured beyond recognition and now he’s crippled. How would YOU be?” she replied testily. Spike shot her an ugly look,
“I don’t know, let me remember what it was like to have a bloody pipe organ dropped on me and be forced to spend months in a wheelchair while your mooching son of a bitch grandsire makes moves on my girl before I answer,” he snarled back. Faith’s eyes widened,
“Who dropped a pipe organ on you?” she asked amazed.
“Guilty,” Buffy put forth, meekly raising her hand, “But in my defense he was evil at the time. He was trying to kill Angel,”
“Not like the great poof didn’t deserve it,” Spike replied.
“He, ANGEL, never hit on your lady of the straitjacket; it wasn’t until he became Angelus that that happened,”
“Yeah, and let’s all remember who’s responsible for THAT too!” Spike snapped. Buffy flinched, remembering her role in Angel’s degradation into Angelus all those years ago. Spike saw the look on her still bruised and slightly battered face and sighed, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly,
“I’m sorry love, I still have a bloody hangover from that spell Red threw and I’m a little strung out from fun at the 56th precinct,” he explained apologetically; Buffy blinked back the hurt from her face, smiled bravely and took Spike’s hand in hers squeezing it.
“You’re a bad, rude man,” Buffy quipped quietly. Spike chuckled and kissed her,
“So it’s been said, baby,” he replied, gently chucking her chin. Buffy smiled and turned to everyone else.
They were all assembled in Buffy’s bedroom. Buffy was still in bed, sitting propped up with pillows and leaning against the wall, a few bandages still on her face and arm, which was currently in a sling pressed against her chest. Spike was sitting next to her and occasionally offering restful support. Everyone else, except Angel, Willow and Alec were arrayed around the room, either in chairs, sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall.
“I think we need to get out of here,” Xander put forth, he turned to Giles, “Can your new girlfriend put us up for a few?” he asked wryly. Giles coughed and glared at him, shaking his head,
“I don’t think Alec can be safely moved yet, his wounds are still quite sensitive. The fact that his healing factor has not yet healed them suggests that there was extensive internal damage. He was, quite literally, nearly beaten to death,” Giles’ fist became white knuckled and his jaw clenched so tightly the sound of porcelain grinding against each other filled the room as he thought of what his son had been put through.
“Giles. Chill. I’m tweaking too, but we need to get our heads clear,” Buffy said sternly,
“You didn’t’ see him fresh out of there Buffy,” Dawn replied quietly looking up at her sister, “You don’t know,” Buffy glared at her,
“No, I didn’t, but I saw him get pummeled in the Nightmare Realm and take a bullet so I think that I’m allowed to talk about it,” she replied harshly, “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who’s pissed.” Dawn said nothing for a while then nodded,
“Sorry,” she replied sullenly going back to stare at the floor. Buffy sighed as Giles cleared his throat and nodded,
“Buffy’s right. Rage won’t help us now. What we need to do is figure out what’s next in acquiring the Worldless Psalm and the blood of the Neverborn and dealing with the Hellmouth,”
“Okay, so how do we do that?” Xander asked, “Our only lead was the Rabbi and he’s come down with a slight case of missing his face,” he commented. Anya frowned,
“Wasn’t Satara the one who recommended the rabbi in the first place?” She asked. Spike’s head jerked up and he sent a look to Faith, who was sending the same one back to him,
“Think she set us up?” he asked quietly.
“Only one way to find out,” she replied. Spike sighed,
“And after giving the performance of my unlife. No appreciation for talent,” he sighed. Giles held up a hand,
“Satara was recommended to us by Marlena. I for one refuse to believe that Marlena would send us to someone who would lead us into a trap,” he stated sternly. Spike glared over at him,
“This glowing endorsement wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you and she played “hide the tweed” a while back, would it?” he snorted. Giles’s face darkened more and he advanced on the vampire. Spike started to get up, ready for war when Buffy pulled him back down to the bed.
“Spike, enough,” Buffy warned. Spike gestured angrily at Giles,
“How are we supposed to trust this woman? What, because Captain Librarian here and she had a nice silver-haired snog, that makes this woman some kind of saint?”
“I trust her Spike. Do you trust me?” Buffy asked sternly. Spike stopped, then sighed and sat back down on the bed, muttering darkly. Giving Spike another reproachful look, Buffy turned to Giles,
“Giles I don’t think Marlena would steer us wrong, but Spike has a point. Satara may have Keyser Soze’d her. At any rate it’s worth following up. Maybe there’s something at that temple that can help us. A diary, journal of the Rabbi before he had his face removed; something that can help us.”
“And who gets to run this charming little errand? Shadow Boy was the only one of us who could both fight worth a damn and had half a brain towards the heebie jeebie stuff,” Spike put in dourly.
“I’ll go,” Giles said quietly. Spike looked at him agog.
“With that flesh thing still wandering out there, probably right now making new friends…literally and then driving them murderously insane?” He asked, stunned. Giles nodded,
“That’s right,” the Watcher replied calmly. Spike looked at him, then exhaled, chuckling, shaking his head,
“I take it back, forget the tweed. Balls of British steel indeed,” he quipped lightly before getting to his feet, “But don’t be thinking you’re the only one Mother Britannia so generously endowed. I’m in,” he finished. There were wry chuckles around the room,
“Steel huh?” Faith asked. Spike winked,
“That’s right, let lesser men and the French settle for brass,”
“God save the queen,” Xander cracked quietly. A few more quiet laughs, more to relieve the stress and despair pushing in on them all rather than from actual humor as Spike shrugged on his duster,
“Right then, let’s go perpetrate a felony,” he grinned enthusiastically, “or does breaking into temple count as sacrilege?’
“Spike, you may trust me when I say, your every act constitutes both,” Giles informed tiredly. Spike grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder,
“Thanks mate, I love you too,” he laughed. Giles groaned as Faith spoke up,
“Yo G, are you going to need some muscle?” she asked. Giles shook his head,
“With Angel, Alec and Buffy all on the mend, we need you to stay here just in case…”
“In case DeGanon tries to kill us all,” Spike finished. Faith grimaced and nodded,
“Hardcore. Got it,” she declared. Privately Faith wondered really how badly she’d need to stay here when they had a murderously powerful witch available. She kept these musings and fears though to herself for the moment.
“Guys? No heroics,” Buffy warned them, “You see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, get the hell out of there,” Giles nodded as Spike grinned,
“Luv, if I see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, I’ll know I’m on Madison Avenue, and I plan on shopping.”
“Ah the joys of Botox, life without facial expressions,” Xander chuckled as he gestured at Spike, “Maybe they can recommend a good nip/tuck clinic, get rid of those unsightly forehead ridges,”
More laughter as Spike made the classic obscene hand gesture. Xander put a hand over his heart,
“Spike, wherever did you learn such a thing?”
“Remember those nuns you cut off on the freeway? They were doing it while howling expletives at you,” Spike answered.
“Oh yeah,” Xander nodded in mock realizations, “I’d forgotten,”
“Honey, I spent a thousand years as a demon and even I wasn’t about to forget some of the words those old women were using,” Anya put in, kissing his cheek. More laughter as Spike held us hands,
“Yes yes, I’m a master of comedy. Time to go be brave,”
“Be careful,” Buffy said quietly. Spike nodded, peering out the door into the seemingly empty hallway in the gypsy stronghold.
“Yeah, you too luv,” he replied meaningfully. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,”
Giles frowned, “I didn’t know you had read Sun Tzu, Spike.” Spike shook his head,
“Naw mate. Vito Corleone,” Spike chuckled. Giles sighed,
“Yes. Of course. Why read the book when a movie is so much less high-impact,” Spike chortled.
“Damn right,” he replied before turning serious pointing at Buffy,
“Watch out for Romani bearing knives,”
“Watch out for fleshdancers bearing…hands. Okay that didn’t work,” Buffy sputtered, “just-“
“Be careful, I got it pet,” Spike flashed thumbs-up and headed out.
The club was, of course, rocking. Deep bass rumbles blasted through oversized speakers as Spike and Giles entered. Purple and blue mini spotlights, mounted upon the ceiling bobbed in time to the music bathing the crowd in pulsing light as vampire and Watcher made their way down the upraised terrace that served as entrance to the club down to the main floor.
“YEAH!” Spike growled, getting a real charge out of the deafening music and good party. Giles grabbed his jacket,
“Stay focused!” Giles yelled. Spike grinned and cupped a hand over his ear, pretending not to be able to hear,
“Eh?” he asked. Giles glared hard at him and practically dragged him through the crowded dance floor, past demons, vampires, and humans. Girls of all species mounted on poles and upon the bar writhed and occasionally poured pitchers of water…as well as blood, upon both themselves and the audience. Spike grinned and laid his head on the bar staring up at one of the demon girls, a creature with deep blue skin and red hair, wearing a porcelain mask and little else, standing over him with a pitcher of blood.
“Fill us up love,” he instructed. The porcelain mask’s features shifted seamlessly to grin at him as the girl raised a perfectly formed foot to his cheek when Spike was jostled hard from behind. Whirling around, the enraged vampire lashed out a fist and clobbered a very inebriated Tak demon into the next world. Turning back his attention to the girl upon the bar…only to witness her attentions have shifted elsewhere.
“Bugger,” he muttered. Giles came up to him just then,
“How is it going?” he asked.
“Miserable. This incredible demon girl was about to perform a Santanico Pandemonium for me until some clumsy oaf-“
“Did you find Satara?” Giles asked impatiently. Spike shook his head,
“Not as of yet, no” Spike confessed,
“Well if you’d stop oogling dancing girls instead of doing something useful!” Giles roared, Spike actually looked taken aback for a moment, before holding up a single finger,
“One second,” he said to the furious man. Walking back up to the blue-skinned dancer, he beckoned for her to kneel down, flashing a twenty. A few words were exchanged as well as five more twenty-dollar bills before Spike nodded satisfied and headed back to Giles,
“Satara’s in the back, behind the piranha aquarium over yonder,” he calmly informed the dumbstruck librarian, pointing at the far end of the club.
“What did you do?” Giles asked skeptically. Spike shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it,
“A hundred and twenty bucks convinced her that I was a talent scout,” he replied before turning to address the other man, “Never doubt the usefulness of oogling a dancing girl, mate.” Spike smirked and headed to the back leaving a somewhat humbled Giles to catch up.
As they approached the door, A Fyarl demon stepped forward to impose himself before the pair,
“No enter,” it growled glaring down at the smaller vampire. Spike turned to look at Giles who shrugged, then turned back to look up at the demon. Exhaling a final puff of smoke he tossed the cigarette down in front of the demon. The demon looked down at it, arching a fleshy ridge of skin where an eyebrow would be.
Spike looked up at him
And smiled.
The Fyarl demon roared in pain and rage as Spike dunked its head into the piranha tank for a third time. The voracious fish tore tiny chunks from the creature’s face and head at a blinding speed. The water was turning a murky black as bits and pieces of mauled tissue and blood floated to the surface.
After a few moments, Spike hoisted him up, bleeding, coughing, and sputtering,
“Now then, we need to talk to Satara,” Spike casually told the demon. The demon roared, spittle flying out from his bleeding maw as it hurled out a flurry of insults including Spike’s lineage, his relationship with his mother and portions of his anatomy. Spike shook his head sorrowfully,
“You are more right than you know, mate,” Spike lamented forlornly before dunking the bleeding creature back into the black water and the voracious fish within.
“Oh, come on!” A voice called out. Spike and Giles turned around from the grim spectacle of slowly feeding the demon to the fish to see Satara. A single clawed hand frantically tried to push Spike away. Without taking his attention from the demon woman, Spike casually stuffed the flailing hand into the tank adding a new octave to the demon’s screams,
“Do you know how hard it is to get Fyarl out of a fish tank filter?” she asked peevishly. Giles adjusted his glasses,
“We must speak with you, it’s quite urgent,” he told her calmly. Satara nodded,
“Yes, I can see that. I imagine you’re not feeding my bouncer to flesh-eating fish for fun,”
“I’m having fun,” Spike put in grinning. Satara sighed as she noticed both that the water was getting very, very dark and the demon was starting to struggle a lot less.
“Oh, for the love of Tiamat, fish him out of there before he drowns. Do you know how long it took me to find a Fyarl demon dumb enough to work for breadsticks?” she asked peevishly.
“I don’t know, I used to employ a few that worked for chewing gum. Claimed it did wonders to aid in their mucous issues,” Spike threw a wry look at Giles,
“See? I wasn’t lying about that,” Spike gloated to the man who had spent a little time as a Fyarl demon.
“I’m thrilled beyond words, Spike. Fish him out,” Spike rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation before hauling the demon out and tossing him to the floor, coughing and sputtering, as well as bleeding profusely.
“Fascinating buggers, piranha are. Fun fact about them, they have no taste for the undead, much like wasps, but toss them a nice chewy demon full of all those yummy living juices and…” Spike finished with a grin, examining his completely undamaged hand.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re a regular genius, come into my office and we can discuss your methods of payment for the upcoming stomach pumping for thirty-odd Amazonian piranha,” Spike snorted and followed Satara into her office as Giles closed the door behind them.
“Let me guess, you’re here because you’re wondering whether or not I set your friends up, right?” Satara calmly asked them. The pair was taken aback for a moment at her directness before nodding,
“Yes we are,” Giles replied coolly. Satara sighed and nodded,
“Okay, yes I wasn’t being straight with you but no, I didn’t set you up,” she gestured at a pair of empty chairs, “Please sit,” She smiled wryly when they hesitated. “Trust me you have nothing to worry about, my heaviest hitter just got turned into fish food by short, blond, and vicious here,” she finished with a self-deprecating chuckle, gesturing at Spike. Spike grinned in spite of himself,
“Yeah well, the dumb blighter had it coming,” he replied as he and Giles took their seats.
“Yes, how dare he attempt to do his job and keep violently homicidal vampires from barging in on me,” she sighed then “Okay back to the topic at hand: I thought maybe this rabbi, Mesha Loeb, could help you out. He was always in here asking questions about all kinds of weird stuff so, you know?”
“The rabbi was in here?” Giles asked, puzzled. The demon nodded,
“Thought it was pretty weird to see this old guy all in black with these dreadlocks-,”
“Peyos,” Giles informed her. She nodded,
“Right well, whatever, coming in here and asking about reanimation and necromancy and souls. Saw him actually talking to a few of these cultists, Lazarene I think. Weird bunch,” she frowned as Giles and Spike exchanged a look, “You know I haven’t seen too many of them around lately,” she mused.
“That’s because they were decimated by absent compatriots,” Spike informed her. Satara’s green eyes widened,
“There was like, five score and ten in that necrophyliacs fan club!” she exclaimed.
“We sent some heavy artillery to deal with that,” Spike replied evenly, grinning in pride at his lovers’ and friends’ prowess in battle,
“Yeah, that was part of the reason why I wanted you to come and go as soon as possible, you were packing a LOT of supernatural firepower and that makes me nervous,” Satara explained.
“If we can get back on track here,” Giles interrupted, “You said the rabbi himself was in here talking to members of the Cult of Lazarus asking questions about reanimation?” Satara nodded,
“Well, to be honest, first it was his assistant, called himself a ‘student of the Talmud,’”
“An apprentice rabbi, interesting,” Giles nodded thoughtfully putting his fingers under his chin in thought, “This young man was the first contact?”
“Right up until he disappeared and Rabbi Mesha started coming in himself, yeah,” Satara confirmed. Giles’s dark expression grew darker,
“I see,” he replied. Spike frowned,
“Okay, someone explain to me why we all have our tragedy masks in place please?” he asked. Giles fairly leapt to his feet, ignoring the blond vampire,
“Thank you Satara,” Satara frowned,
“You look worried. Hey, are we cool? You’re not going to send, like, your slayers or your son to come make life difficult for me are you?” she asked worriedly.
“What? Oh, no, no of course not, we’re fine,” Giles replied absentmindedly as he headed to the door. Spike and Satara exchanged confused looks before the former got to his feet and headed out,
“Hold on a moment!” Spike demanded following the rapidly retreated form of Giles. Giles jerked the door open-
Only to duck as a bandaged Fyarl demon roared at him lunging with hands outstretched. Giles wasted no time, kneeling and sending a powerful blow to the creature’s groin. There was a loud ‘crunch’ followed by a primal scream of agony from the demon as it folded over, clutching its ruined anatomy. Before Spike or Satara could even gasp, Giles grabbed the creature by its horn, taking advantage of its temporary off-balance helplessness and using its own considerable weight against it, twisted, pivoted and propelled the creature straight into the aquarium.
It had time to scream once before it impacted with the glass. An explosion of water and glass followed by a geyser of tiny, biting teeth signaled the destruction of the aquarium as the Fyarl demon fell to the soaking floor and writhed, a dozen or so pirhana embedded in its skin and chewing furiously,
“Holy shi-!” Spike gaped, looking at the destruction.
“Come on!” Satara wailed in dismay, looking at the destruction. Giles turned to Spike,
“We’re leaving,” Giles replied calmly, casually kicking aside a gasping fish near his foot that was trying to bite him.
“Aye aye, Ripper,” Spike replied dumbfounded. Then he began to cackle, “That was beautiful! Holy God!” Spike clapped, stepping over the wreckage and following Giles out the door. “Whoa, hold on; hold up, what’s going on?” Spike asked other man. Giles sighed and stopped, allowing the vampire to catch up,
“The Jewish Tradition, especially the branches of Orthodox and Hasidism are very strict about what is and is not acceptable behavior,” Giles began, Spike waved it away,
“Yeah, yeah, this is the same religion that ensures I can’t get a decent cheeseburger in half of New York,” Spike replied flippantly. Giles whirled on him,
“For God sake’s listen to me! And shut up!” Giles yelled. Spike wisely did both.
“The Jewish tradition has one of the oldest and most mystically powerful histories of any of the religions; The Talmud, the Torah, the Kabbalah; each one of these books have been considered at one time or another a source of extraordinary magical power. For those who are properly trained in understanding, decoding and applying the text, it is a source of enormous supernatural prowess, one of the most powerful rites being the creation of an unstoppable automaton”
“Oh come on!” Spike laughed, “You don’t honestly think Rabbi Joey or whatever actually managed to…” he stopped as he noticed Giles’ expression,
“It’s been done before Spike. In 1580 in Prague, a rabbi and two of his assistants, in an attempt to prevent a murderous priest from launching a mob against the Jewish Quarter constructed what texts call “a man of earth and clay” to protect them. Now history is vague here but it is believed that something went awry either during the ritual of creation or afterwards.”
“Awry as in…” Spike asked now looking worried,
“As in the gargantuan creature went on a murderous rampage killing dozens of people before it was destroyed through unknown means,”
“So what has you worried is that the good rabbi may have been trying to create an unkillable juggernaut of death.” Spike pondered that a moment, “Yeah all right, I’ll admit that’s something to warrant a measure of concern, mate,”
“Taxi!” Giles cried out. A dingy yellow cab pulled up,
“Yo, where you headed?” the cabbie asked.
“Fifth avenue and 92nd street and quickly!” Giles urged as he opened the door turning to Spike.
“No, I’m worried that Rabbi Mesha, the real Rabbi Mesha may have indeed created something and now that he’s dead it’s loose and completely out of control,”
Spike stopped at that thought. A berserk colossus of death, nearly invulnerable, that the world had not seen for the last four hundred plus years, and its creator, the only person capable of reigning it in, dead as three-week-old Chinese food.
“Oh…sod!” he muttered before getting into the cab.
Giles and Spike crept underneath the soiled yellow police tape surrounding the ruins of what had once been the synagogue.
“I can’t believe we’re coming back here,” Spike muttered as he cast his eyes back and forth. Far from the tranquil feeling they had all experienced upon first seeing it, in what felt like a hundred lifetimes ago, now there was the scent of death and violence in the air. Buffy and Alec’s experience within the Nightmare Realm, the police, the Dahaka, all of it had left some kind of…emotional bloodstain that gave Spike the creeps,
“We need to see if Rabbi Mesha left some kind of diary, a journal, any kind of evidence that would point to whether or not he has in fact created a golem,” Giles replied. They reached the large wooden doors, now pitted with bullet holes from the police and chained heavily,
“Spike, if you would?” Giles asked politely. Spike sighed, and then hauled himself up the stairs towards the looming door. Swallowing his fear, he spit on his hands, he took hold of the dirty chains and with a grunt yanked hard, snapping them. Tossing them aside he gripped the door handles and pulled.
A gust of air, and Spike winced expecting the stench of decay,
“Ugh!” he exclaimed then frowned. There was no scent of decay, only the scent of a strange and oddly pleasing incense, “Wait, no, no ugh, confusion,” Spike frowned and peered inside, Giles coming up beside him,
The temple had been cleaned up nicely. From what Buffy had told them about their expulsion from the Nightmare realm, the two men expected a mess of shattered glass and dried blood. Instead the stones of the floor were clean; the ruined stained glass window was boarded up and the candles were lit. Spike gestured to the boarded up window, a good thirty feet up in the air,
“Hey, how do you suppose someone got up there and fixed that?” He asked wryly.
“Oh, I imagine, with wings,” Giles replied. Spike frowned, there was an odd, strained note in the man’s voice and it took Spike a moment to place it: fear. He turned,
“What are you on about ma-?” he stopped as Giles simply pointed.
Looming above them both was the silhouette of a creature backlit and projected in front of them; Horns, claws, and great bat-like wings that extended with a ‘whoosh’ of air. The candles in the temple flickered as the shadow of the creature spread out to overcome the pair past them and all the way up to halfway above the alter at the far end of the temple. Spike sighed,
“It’s big, isn’t it?” he asked. Giles nodded,
“Yes.”
“And right behind us?”
“Yes Spike I believe it is,”
There was a low growl and the sound of claws on stone,
“It doesn’t sound happy to see us,” Spike observed.
“No, no it doesn’t Spike,” Giles confirmed. Spike sighed
“Oh well, might as well go say hi,” Spike casually turned around, Giles more slowly. Both men looked up to second floor balcony.
(To be continued in Chapter 9)
Rachelia
Summary: Like a stopper pulled, the retrieval of the Everstone has set loose a maelstrom of powers. Things not dared been mentioned in all the ages of the world, stir and awaken within their putrescent hives in answer to the Hellmouth’s call. Clawing their way free from the poisoned earth, they are driven towards a single goal - the capture of the Key and the destruction of all the world.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Timeline: Immediately follows Book 1: Dusk
Rating: TV-14 (nothing worse than on the show)
Pairing/Characters: Buffy/Spike, Willow/Dusk(OC), Xander/Anya, Giles/Marlena(OC), Dawn, Faith, Angel, Dracula
Book One: Dusk (all chapters)
Previous chapter of Midnight
Banner created by edgehead73.
Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy: Revamped Edition
Book Two:
Midnight
Chapter 8
Wounds and Words
Pain.
Darkness.
(I can’t see.)
Things tight, binding, cutting into skin.
(I can’t move.)
Struggling, heat.
(My face)
Voices now, talking, getting louder, a bright light, pain.
(HELP ME!)
Alec lurched up out of bed, screaming. Willow and Giles grabbed for his left arm, as blades erupted out of the skin of his right arm, which was lashed down just for this reason.
“Alec!” Giles yelled, trying to get his wounded son under control. Alec looked up at him with his one eye through the mask of bandages.
“Shhh!” Willow tried to soothe, stroking his forehead though there was precious little skin left uncovered by gauze.
A tear, a snap and the bonds surrounding Alec’s right arm were torn free. He lurched up, waving the bladed appendage at them, eyes wide yet not seeing, still locked in whatever nightmare he had woken from. The pair backed away hurriedly as Faith rushed into the room.
“D!” she cried out. Like a terrified animal, Alec lurched out of bed attempting to stand. His legs folded under him like wilted flowers. Vainly he tried to steady himself on a wooden table. His bladed arm dug into it knocking it over and spilling a bowl of water and a mirror to the stone floor. All shattered, spraying him with cold water, he fell hard upon the broken glass, cutting himself.
“Alec,” Willow whispered kneeling next to him, careful to avoid the bladed arm, now embedded solidly into the broken remains of the table as Alec looked at himself for the first time in the jagged shards of mirror strewn upon the floor
Nearly his entire face was bandaged, both of his eyes were swollen, one had been ruptured; even now his sclera was a bloody red. His nose had been badly broken and was swathed in bandages. He had several stitches in his face; his jaw was swollen and purple, also bandaged. The effect made his face look like it had been broken into several pieces and then hastily stitched back together.
Trembling, he touched his mutilated face with his fingers, then pulled away as he noticed that he was smearing blood on his soiled bandages. He looked down at his hand and saw a single glittering piece of glass protruding from his palm. The blades retracting from his right arm as his fear and terror gave way to something else, he slowly pulled the glass shard from his palm, grimacing. For a moment he held the piece of red glass before his eyes, his friends and family exchanging worried looks. Numbly the glass fell from his shaking fingers and landed upon the pile of shards, splattering blood upon them. Alec looked down at them and now saw his broken face, tainted with his own blood reflected a thousand times.
Staring right up at him.
And with a low rising wail, Alec slumped as his spirit broke in horror at what the last 24 hours had done to him. Willow grabbed him before he impaled his face upon the pile of broken glass and held him as he sobbed bitterly.
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured rocking him back and forth. Giles and Faith stepped forth to help him to their feet. Alec’s powerless legs could not support him but they managed to get him back on the cot, Willow kissing his face gently. Alec whimpered and tried to cover his face in shame with his bloody hands. Willow gently pushed them aside as Faith took his bloody hand and cleaned and redressed it. Alec looked away, tears running down his face, though no longer weeping, staring at nothing. Willow gently turned his head to face her,
“Hey, stay with me,” she whispered, “Please? I need you here,” She could only just meet his gaze; it was the look of one who had lost all will to live. For someone who had been as strong and vital as her lover, it was devastating to see. Faith finished with Alec’s hand and Willow took it from her, cradling it and placing a kiss on a patch of bare skin,
“I love you,” she whispered. Alec didn’t blink, his expression remained broken, but his hand did tighten around hers just slightly. Willow smiled as Giles rested a hand on his son’s shoulder,
“Son…” he whispered. Alec didn’t react but his heavily bandaged head turned slightly against the pillow toward his father’s voice. Giles took that as a good sign and squeezed his son’s shoulder.
Faith smiled at Alec, “Hey D, welcome back to the land of the living,” she quipped. Alec turned towards the sound, the only sign that he acknowledged anyone had spoken to him. Willow looked up at the two of them,
“Let everyone know he’s awake but tell them he needs his rest. How’s Buffy doing?” she asked Giles. Giles stuck his hands in his jeans and turned his head,
“She seems to be recovering well,” he replied carefully, “Though she too needs a goodly amount of rest,” Buffy had regained consciousness a few days ago, “She’s sleeping now, Spike’s with her,” he finished. Willow nodded and turned to Faith,
“How Ange-?” Suddenly, Willow gasped as Alec’s hand tightened painfully around hers. His breathing became rapid; his eyes opened wide in fear as a low moan of fear and pain came spilling out of his mouth. Willow’s heart leapt into her throat even as she pushed aside the pain in her hand, willing herself to squeeze back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. With agonizing slowness, Alec turned his mutilated face towards Faith. Faith exchanged a confused and panicked look with Giles before answering quickly,
“He’s fine!” she blurted out hurriedly, “We had to dig out a hell of a lot of lead out of his gut but he’s okay!” Willow turned in understanding to face Alec. His face remained pale and taunt for a moment, but then Faith’s words sank in and he relaxed. His death grip upon Willow’s hand relaxed and though her first instinct was to pull away and cradle her wounded appendage, Willow merely held her lover’s hand, giving no indication as to being injured in the least.
“It must have gotten beyond hairy in that cop-house,” Faith murmured. Willow cradled Alec’s broken face sadly taking in his vacant stare of empty despair,
“Yes, it was,” she replied quietly. Alec leaned his head into her touch slightly but his eyes never blinked and never warmed.
“So how is he?” Spike asked Faith a few minutes later. Faith looked over at him,
“He had his face pulverized, he was tortured beyond recognition and now he’s crippled. How would YOU be?” she replied testily. Spike shot her an ugly look,
“I don’t know, let me remember what it was like to have a bloody pipe organ dropped on me and be forced to spend months in a wheelchair while your mooching son of a bitch grandsire makes moves on my girl before I answer,” he snarled back. Faith’s eyes widened,
“Who dropped a pipe organ on you?” she asked amazed.
“Guilty,” Buffy put forth, meekly raising her hand, “But in my defense he was evil at the time. He was trying to kill Angel,”
“Not like the great poof didn’t deserve it,” Spike replied.
“He, ANGEL, never hit on your lady of the straitjacket; it wasn’t until he became Angelus that that happened,”
“Yeah, and let’s all remember who’s responsible for THAT too!” Spike snapped. Buffy flinched, remembering her role in Angel’s degradation into Angelus all those years ago. Spike saw the look on her still bruised and slightly battered face and sighed, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly,
“I’m sorry love, I still have a bloody hangover from that spell Red threw and I’m a little strung out from fun at the 56th precinct,” he explained apologetically; Buffy blinked back the hurt from her face, smiled bravely and took Spike’s hand in hers squeezing it.
“You’re a bad, rude man,” Buffy quipped quietly. Spike chuckled and kissed her,
“So it’s been said, baby,” he replied, gently chucking her chin. Buffy smiled and turned to everyone else.
They were all assembled in Buffy’s bedroom. Buffy was still in bed, sitting propped up with pillows and leaning against the wall, a few bandages still on her face and arm, which was currently in a sling pressed against her chest. Spike was sitting next to her and occasionally offering restful support. Everyone else, except Angel, Willow and Alec were arrayed around the room, either in chairs, sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall.
“I think we need to get out of here,” Xander put forth, he turned to Giles, “Can your new girlfriend put us up for a few?” he asked wryly. Giles coughed and glared at him, shaking his head,
“I don’t think Alec can be safely moved yet, his wounds are still quite sensitive. The fact that his healing factor has not yet healed them suggests that there was extensive internal damage. He was, quite literally, nearly beaten to death,” Giles’ fist became white knuckled and his jaw clenched so tightly the sound of porcelain grinding against each other filled the room as he thought of what his son had been put through.
“Giles. Chill. I’m tweaking too, but we need to get our heads clear,” Buffy said sternly,
“You didn’t’ see him fresh out of there Buffy,” Dawn replied quietly looking up at her sister, “You don’t know,” Buffy glared at her,
“No, I didn’t, but I saw him get pummeled in the Nightmare Realm and take a bullet so I think that I’m allowed to talk about it,” she replied harshly, “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who’s pissed.” Dawn said nothing for a while then nodded,
“Sorry,” she replied sullenly going back to stare at the floor. Buffy sighed as Giles cleared his throat and nodded,
“Buffy’s right. Rage won’t help us now. What we need to do is figure out what’s next in acquiring the Worldless Psalm and the blood of the Neverborn and dealing with the Hellmouth,”
“Okay, so how do we do that?” Xander asked, “Our only lead was the Rabbi and he’s come down with a slight case of missing his face,” he commented. Anya frowned,
“Wasn’t Satara the one who recommended the rabbi in the first place?” She asked. Spike’s head jerked up and he sent a look to Faith, who was sending the same one back to him,
“Think she set us up?” he asked quietly.
“Only one way to find out,” she replied. Spike sighed,
“And after giving the performance of my unlife. No appreciation for talent,” he sighed. Giles held up a hand,
“Satara was recommended to us by Marlena. I for one refuse to believe that Marlena would send us to someone who would lead us into a trap,” he stated sternly. Spike glared over at him,
“This glowing endorsement wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you and she played “hide the tweed” a while back, would it?” he snorted. Giles’s face darkened more and he advanced on the vampire. Spike started to get up, ready for war when Buffy pulled him back down to the bed.
“Spike, enough,” Buffy warned. Spike gestured angrily at Giles,
“How are we supposed to trust this woman? What, because Captain Librarian here and she had a nice silver-haired snog, that makes this woman some kind of saint?”
“I trust her Spike. Do you trust me?” Buffy asked sternly. Spike stopped, then sighed and sat back down on the bed, muttering darkly. Giving Spike another reproachful look, Buffy turned to Giles,
“Giles I don’t think Marlena would steer us wrong, but Spike has a point. Satara may have Keyser Soze’d her. At any rate it’s worth following up. Maybe there’s something at that temple that can help us. A diary, journal of the Rabbi before he had his face removed; something that can help us.”
“And who gets to run this charming little errand? Shadow Boy was the only one of us who could both fight worth a damn and had half a brain towards the heebie jeebie stuff,” Spike put in dourly.
“I’ll go,” Giles said quietly. Spike looked at him agog.
“With that flesh thing still wandering out there, probably right now making new friends…literally and then driving them murderously insane?” He asked, stunned. Giles nodded,
“That’s right,” the Watcher replied calmly. Spike looked at him, then exhaled, chuckling, shaking his head,
“I take it back, forget the tweed. Balls of British steel indeed,” he quipped lightly before getting to his feet, “But don’t be thinking you’re the only one Mother Britannia so generously endowed. I’m in,” he finished. There were wry chuckles around the room,
“Steel huh?” Faith asked. Spike winked,
“That’s right, let lesser men and the French settle for brass,”
“God save the queen,” Xander cracked quietly. A few more quiet laughs, more to relieve the stress and despair pushing in on them all rather than from actual humor as Spike shrugged on his duster,
“Right then, let’s go perpetrate a felony,” he grinned enthusiastically, “or does breaking into temple count as sacrilege?’
“Spike, you may trust me when I say, your every act constitutes both,” Giles informed tiredly. Spike grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder,
“Thanks mate, I love you too,” he laughed. Giles groaned as Faith spoke up,
“Yo G, are you going to need some muscle?” she asked. Giles shook his head,
“With Angel, Alec and Buffy all on the mend, we need you to stay here just in case…”
“In case DeGanon tries to kill us all,” Spike finished. Faith grimaced and nodded,
“Hardcore. Got it,” she declared. Privately Faith wondered really how badly she’d need to stay here when they had a murderously powerful witch available. She kept these musings and fears though to herself for the moment.
“Guys? No heroics,” Buffy warned them, “You see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, get the hell out of there,” Giles nodded as Spike grinned,
“Luv, if I see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, I’ll know I’m on Madison Avenue, and I plan on shopping.”
“Ah the joys of Botox, life without facial expressions,” Xander chuckled as he gestured at Spike, “Maybe they can recommend a good nip/tuck clinic, get rid of those unsightly forehead ridges,”
More laughter as Spike made the classic obscene hand gesture. Xander put a hand over his heart,
“Spike, wherever did you learn such a thing?”
“Remember those nuns you cut off on the freeway? They were doing it while howling expletives at you,” Spike answered.
“Oh yeah,” Xander nodded in mock realizations, “I’d forgotten,”
“Honey, I spent a thousand years as a demon and even I wasn’t about to forget some of the words those old women were using,” Anya put in, kissing his cheek. More laughter as Spike held us hands,
“Yes yes, I’m a master of comedy. Time to go be brave,”
“Be careful,” Buffy said quietly. Spike nodded, peering out the door into the seemingly empty hallway in the gypsy stronghold.
“Yeah, you too luv,” he replied meaningfully. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,”
Giles frowned, “I didn’t know you had read Sun Tzu, Spike.” Spike shook his head,
“Naw mate. Vito Corleone,” Spike chuckled. Giles sighed,
“Yes. Of course. Why read the book when a movie is so much less high-impact,” Spike chortled.
“Damn right,” he replied before turning serious pointing at Buffy,
“Watch out for Romani bearing knives,”
“Watch out for fleshdancers bearing…hands. Okay that didn’t work,” Buffy sputtered, “just-“
“Be careful, I got it pet,” Spike flashed thumbs-up and headed out.
The club was, of course, rocking. Deep bass rumbles blasted through oversized speakers as Spike and Giles entered. Purple and blue mini spotlights, mounted upon the ceiling bobbed in time to the music bathing the crowd in pulsing light as vampire and Watcher made their way down the upraised terrace that served as entrance to the club down to the main floor.
“YEAH!” Spike growled, getting a real charge out of the deafening music and good party. Giles grabbed his jacket,
“Stay focused!” Giles yelled. Spike grinned and cupped a hand over his ear, pretending not to be able to hear,
“Eh?” he asked. Giles glared hard at him and practically dragged him through the crowded dance floor, past demons, vampires, and humans. Girls of all species mounted on poles and upon the bar writhed and occasionally poured pitchers of water…as well as blood, upon both themselves and the audience. Spike grinned and laid his head on the bar staring up at one of the demon girls, a creature with deep blue skin and red hair, wearing a porcelain mask and little else, standing over him with a pitcher of blood.
“Fill us up love,” he instructed. The porcelain mask’s features shifted seamlessly to grin at him as the girl raised a perfectly formed foot to his cheek when Spike was jostled hard from behind. Whirling around, the enraged vampire lashed out a fist and clobbered a very inebriated Tak demon into the next world. Turning back his attention to the girl upon the bar…only to witness her attentions have shifted elsewhere.
“Bugger,” he muttered. Giles came up to him just then,
“How is it going?” he asked.
“Miserable. This incredible demon girl was about to perform a Santanico Pandemonium for me until some clumsy oaf-“
“Did you find Satara?” Giles asked impatiently. Spike shook his head,
“Not as of yet, no” Spike confessed,
“Well if you’d stop oogling dancing girls instead of doing something useful!” Giles roared, Spike actually looked taken aback for a moment, before holding up a single finger,
“One second,” he said to the furious man. Walking back up to the blue-skinned dancer, he beckoned for her to kneel down, flashing a twenty. A few words were exchanged as well as five more twenty-dollar bills before Spike nodded satisfied and headed back to Giles,
“Satara’s in the back, behind the piranha aquarium over yonder,” he calmly informed the dumbstruck librarian, pointing at the far end of the club.
“What did you do?” Giles asked skeptically. Spike shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it,
“A hundred and twenty bucks convinced her that I was a talent scout,” he replied before turning to address the other man, “Never doubt the usefulness of oogling a dancing girl, mate.” Spike smirked and headed to the back leaving a somewhat humbled Giles to catch up.
As they approached the door, A Fyarl demon stepped forward to impose himself before the pair,
“No enter,” it growled glaring down at the smaller vampire. Spike turned to look at Giles who shrugged, then turned back to look up at the demon. Exhaling a final puff of smoke he tossed the cigarette down in front of the demon. The demon looked down at it, arching a fleshy ridge of skin where an eyebrow would be.
Spike looked up at him
And smiled.
The Fyarl demon roared in pain and rage as Spike dunked its head into the piranha tank for a third time. The voracious fish tore tiny chunks from the creature’s face and head at a blinding speed. The water was turning a murky black as bits and pieces of mauled tissue and blood floated to the surface.
After a few moments, Spike hoisted him up, bleeding, coughing, and sputtering,
“Now then, we need to talk to Satara,” Spike casually told the demon. The demon roared, spittle flying out from his bleeding maw as it hurled out a flurry of insults including Spike’s lineage, his relationship with his mother and portions of his anatomy. Spike shook his head sorrowfully,
“You are more right than you know, mate,” Spike lamented forlornly before dunking the bleeding creature back into the black water and the voracious fish within.
“Oh, come on!” A voice called out. Spike and Giles turned around from the grim spectacle of slowly feeding the demon to the fish to see Satara. A single clawed hand frantically tried to push Spike away. Without taking his attention from the demon woman, Spike casually stuffed the flailing hand into the tank adding a new octave to the demon’s screams,
“Do you know how hard it is to get Fyarl out of a fish tank filter?” she asked peevishly. Giles adjusted his glasses,
“We must speak with you, it’s quite urgent,” he told her calmly. Satara nodded,
“Yes, I can see that. I imagine you’re not feeding my bouncer to flesh-eating fish for fun,”
“I’m having fun,” Spike put in grinning. Satara sighed as she noticed both that the water was getting very, very dark and the demon was starting to struggle a lot less.
“Oh, for the love of Tiamat, fish him out of there before he drowns. Do you know how long it took me to find a Fyarl demon dumb enough to work for breadsticks?” she asked peevishly.
“I don’t know, I used to employ a few that worked for chewing gum. Claimed it did wonders to aid in their mucous issues,” Spike threw a wry look at Giles,
“See? I wasn’t lying about that,” Spike gloated to the man who had spent a little time as a Fyarl demon.
“I’m thrilled beyond words, Spike. Fish him out,” Spike rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation before hauling the demon out and tossing him to the floor, coughing and sputtering, as well as bleeding profusely.
“Fascinating buggers, piranha are. Fun fact about them, they have no taste for the undead, much like wasps, but toss them a nice chewy demon full of all those yummy living juices and…” Spike finished with a grin, examining his completely undamaged hand.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re a regular genius, come into my office and we can discuss your methods of payment for the upcoming stomach pumping for thirty-odd Amazonian piranha,” Spike snorted and followed Satara into her office as Giles closed the door behind them.
“Let me guess, you’re here because you’re wondering whether or not I set your friends up, right?” Satara calmly asked them. The pair was taken aback for a moment at her directness before nodding,
“Yes we are,” Giles replied coolly. Satara sighed and nodded,
“Okay, yes I wasn’t being straight with you but no, I didn’t set you up,” she gestured at a pair of empty chairs, “Please sit,” She smiled wryly when they hesitated. “Trust me you have nothing to worry about, my heaviest hitter just got turned into fish food by short, blond, and vicious here,” she finished with a self-deprecating chuckle, gesturing at Spike. Spike grinned in spite of himself,
“Yeah well, the dumb blighter had it coming,” he replied as he and Giles took their seats.
“Yes, how dare he attempt to do his job and keep violently homicidal vampires from barging in on me,” she sighed then “Okay back to the topic at hand: I thought maybe this rabbi, Mesha Loeb, could help you out. He was always in here asking questions about all kinds of weird stuff so, you know?”
“The rabbi was in here?” Giles asked, puzzled. The demon nodded,
“Thought it was pretty weird to see this old guy all in black with these dreadlocks-,”
“Peyos,” Giles informed her. She nodded,
“Right well, whatever, coming in here and asking about reanimation and necromancy and souls. Saw him actually talking to a few of these cultists, Lazarene I think. Weird bunch,” she frowned as Giles and Spike exchanged a look, “You know I haven’t seen too many of them around lately,” she mused.
“That’s because they were decimated by absent compatriots,” Spike informed her. Satara’s green eyes widened,
“There was like, five score and ten in that necrophyliacs fan club!” she exclaimed.
“We sent some heavy artillery to deal with that,” Spike replied evenly, grinning in pride at his lovers’ and friends’ prowess in battle,
“Yeah, that was part of the reason why I wanted you to come and go as soon as possible, you were packing a LOT of supernatural firepower and that makes me nervous,” Satara explained.
“If we can get back on track here,” Giles interrupted, “You said the rabbi himself was in here talking to members of the Cult of Lazarus asking questions about reanimation?” Satara nodded,
“Well, to be honest, first it was his assistant, called himself a ‘student of the Talmud,’”
“An apprentice rabbi, interesting,” Giles nodded thoughtfully putting his fingers under his chin in thought, “This young man was the first contact?”
“Right up until he disappeared and Rabbi Mesha started coming in himself, yeah,” Satara confirmed. Giles’s dark expression grew darker,
“I see,” he replied. Spike frowned,
“Okay, someone explain to me why we all have our tragedy masks in place please?” he asked. Giles fairly leapt to his feet, ignoring the blond vampire,
“Thank you Satara,” Satara frowned,
“You look worried. Hey, are we cool? You’re not going to send, like, your slayers or your son to come make life difficult for me are you?” she asked worriedly.
“What? Oh, no, no of course not, we’re fine,” Giles replied absentmindedly as he headed to the door. Spike and Satara exchanged confused looks before the former got to his feet and headed out,
“Hold on a moment!” Spike demanded following the rapidly retreated form of Giles. Giles jerked the door open-
Only to duck as a bandaged Fyarl demon roared at him lunging with hands outstretched. Giles wasted no time, kneeling and sending a powerful blow to the creature’s groin. There was a loud ‘crunch’ followed by a primal scream of agony from the demon as it folded over, clutching its ruined anatomy. Before Spike or Satara could even gasp, Giles grabbed the creature by its horn, taking advantage of its temporary off-balance helplessness and using its own considerable weight against it, twisted, pivoted and propelled the creature straight into the aquarium.
It had time to scream once before it impacted with the glass. An explosion of water and glass followed by a geyser of tiny, biting teeth signaled the destruction of the aquarium as the Fyarl demon fell to the soaking floor and writhed, a dozen or so pirhana embedded in its skin and chewing furiously,
“Holy shi-!” Spike gaped, looking at the destruction.
“Come on!” Satara wailed in dismay, looking at the destruction. Giles turned to Spike,
“We’re leaving,” Giles replied calmly, casually kicking aside a gasping fish near his foot that was trying to bite him.
“Aye aye, Ripper,” Spike replied dumbfounded. Then he began to cackle, “That was beautiful! Holy God!” Spike clapped, stepping over the wreckage and following Giles out the door. “Whoa, hold on; hold up, what’s going on?” Spike asked other man. Giles sighed and stopped, allowing the vampire to catch up,
“The Jewish Tradition, especially the branches of Orthodox and Hasidism are very strict about what is and is not acceptable behavior,” Giles began, Spike waved it away,
“Yeah, yeah, this is the same religion that ensures I can’t get a decent cheeseburger in half of New York,” Spike replied flippantly. Giles whirled on him,
“For God sake’s listen to me! And shut up!” Giles yelled. Spike wisely did both.
“The Jewish tradition has one of the oldest and most mystically powerful histories of any of the religions; The Talmud, the Torah, the Kabbalah; each one of these books have been considered at one time or another a source of extraordinary magical power. For those who are properly trained in understanding, decoding and applying the text, it is a source of enormous supernatural prowess, one of the most powerful rites being the creation of an unstoppable automaton”
“Oh come on!” Spike laughed, “You don’t honestly think Rabbi Joey or whatever actually managed to…” he stopped as he noticed Giles’ expression,
“It’s been done before Spike. In 1580 in Prague, a rabbi and two of his assistants, in an attempt to prevent a murderous priest from launching a mob against the Jewish Quarter constructed what texts call “a man of earth and clay” to protect them. Now history is vague here but it is believed that something went awry either during the ritual of creation or afterwards.”
“Awry as in…” Spike asked now looking worried,
“As in the gargantuan creature went on a murderous rampage killing dozens of people before it was destroyed through unknown means,”
“So what has you worried is that the good rabbi may have been trying to create an unkillable juggernaut of death.” Spike pondered that a moment, “Yeah all right, I’ll admit that’s something to warrant a measure of concern, mate,”
“Taxi!” Giles cried out. A dingy yellow cab pulled up,
“Yo, where you headed?” the cabbie asked.
“Fifth avenue and 92nd street and quickly!” Giles urged as he opened the door turning to Spike.
“No, I’m worried that Rabbi Mesha, the real Rabbi Mesha may have indeed created something and now that he’s dead it’s loose and completely out of control,”
Spike stopped at that thought. A berserk colossus of death, nearly invulnerable, that the world had not seen for the last four hundred plus years, and its creator, the only person capable of reigning it in, dead as three-week-old Chinese food.
“Oh…sod!” he muttered before getting into the cab.
Giles and Spike crept underneath the soiled yellow police tape surrounding the ruins of what had once been the synagogue.
“I can’t believe we’re coming back here,” Spike muttered as he cast his eyes back and forth. Far from the tranquil feeling they had all experienced upon first seeing it, in what felt like a hundred lifetimes ago, now there was the scent of death and violence in the air. Buffy and Alec’s experience within the Nightmare Realm, the police, the Dahaka, all of it had left some kind of…emotional bloodstain that gave Spike the creeps,
“We need to see if Rabbi Mesha left some kind of diary, a journal, any kind of evidence that would point to whether or not he has in fact created a golem,” Giles replied. They reached the large wooden doors, now pitted with bullet holes from the police and chained heavily,
“Spike, if you would?” Giles asked politely. Spike sighed, and then hauled himself up the stairs towards the looming door. Swallowing his fear, he spit on his hands, he took hold of the dirty chains and with a grunt yanked hard, snapping them. Tossing them aside he gripped the door handles and pulled.
A gust of air, and Spike winced expecting the stench of decay,
“Ugh!” he exclaimed then frowned. There was no scent of decay, only the scent of a strange and oddly pleasing incense, “Wait, no, no ugh, confusion,” Spike frowned and peered inside, Giles coming up beside him,
The temple had been cleaned up nicely. From what Buffy had told them about their expulsion from the Nightmare realm, the two men expected a mess of shattered glass and dried blood. Instead the stones of the floor were clean; the ruined stained glass window was boarded up and the candles were lit. Spike gestured to the boarded up window, a good thirty feet up in the air,
“Hey, how do you suppose someone got up there and fixed that?” He asked wryly.
“Oh, I imagine, with wings,” Giles replied. Spike frowned, there was an odd, strained note in the man’s voice and it took Spike a moment to place it: fear. He turned,
“What are you on about ma-?” he stopped as Giles simply pointed.
Looming above them both was the silhouette of a creature backlit and projected in front of them; Horns, claws, and great bat-like wings that extended with a ‘whoosh’ of air. The candles in the temple flickered as the shadow of the creature spread out to overcome the pair past them and all the way up to halfway above the alter at the far end of the temple. Spike sighed,
“It’s big, isn’t it?” he asked. Giles nodded,
“Yes.”
“And right behind us?”
“Yes Spike I believe it is,”
There was a low growl and the sound of claws on stone,
“It doesn’t sound happy to see us,” Spike observed.
“No, no it doesn’t Spike,” Giles confirmed. Spike sighed
“Oh well, might as well go say hi,” Spike casually turned around, Giles more slowly. Both men looked up to second floor balcony.
(To be continued in Chapter 9)