Viole(n)t Eye (snippet)
Xander yawned. It was close to midnight now. Giles had them researching late into the night, wanting them to be prepared for the next great evil to arise. Xander didn't quite see the point of it all. They'd barely had any warning on the Harvest, or even about Amy's mom, and they'd done fine then. He was pretty sure there wasn't anything that Buffy, with him and Willow at her side, couldn't fight.
Xander had always dreamed of being a hero, of the adrenaline rush that came along with running for his life, or fighting for it. He craved it, now that he'd had it for real. The feeling of his blood singing in his veins as he fought at the side of the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.
Yeah, he wanted that right now, as a matter of fact. He felt like he had to be up, standing, running around. Not sitting in the hard wooden chair at the library table, staring at old books.
He glanced over to where Willow sat, typing rapidly into the computer. Buffy sat across from her, looking bored. He totally understood that. He was bored to tears too.
It couldn't hurt, Xander decided, to have a little extra researchy fuel.
"I'm gonna go grab a soda. Anybody want?" Xander stood, stretching out his tense thighs. Willow glanced up at him, grinning. Right then, grape soda for her. Giles looked up from his book, then shook his head. He'd probably go make tea, or something equally British. What was more British than tea? Xander decided he never wanted to know.
Buffy didn't look up from her book.
"Buffy? Soda?" She blinked, then shook herself. Xander grinned. He'd seen that look. It was the "I'm day-dreaming in class, and I just might have gotten caught" look. "I'm paying."
"Diet's good."
She smiled at him, and Xander nearly melted. God, he loved that smile.
"Okay. Be right back."
Xander pushed through the doors into the semi-dark of the hall way. With only the red glow of the exit signs to illuminate the space, the halls took on a slightly more sinister edge. Only slightly though. It took a lot to overcome the appeal of a school without the threat of classes. Xander set off toward the student lounge and the soda machines, whistling softly to himself.
Thunder crashed overhead, making Xander jump. He didn't remember a cloudy sky, or any thunderstorm predicted on television. Not that it would be the first time Crazy Jeffery of the Channel Four news team was wrong.
Lightning flashed in through the windows over the stairwell to his left, and even the dim lights of the exit signs flickered and died. Xander froze in place. A pitch dark hallway was not the place he wanted to be.
He shook himself. A power outage wasn't that rare, especially in a California thunderstorm. He set off again, whistling slightly louder. Even on a clear day, power outages happened. Nothing hellmouthy about that.
Lightning flashed again, the third time in almost thirty seconds, and this time, when it lit the hallway, there was someone there.
SomeTHING. Xander froze again, his eyes wide.
It was vaguely humanoid, But the pointed ears and curling horns eliminated that possibility. Xander squinted into the darkness. The thing seemed to be gone again, but he'd just SEEN it, standing only about ten yards away, at the junction of the hallways.
He needed Buffy. Pretty much NOW. He took a few steps backward.
Lightning, and there it was again. Only five yards away now, though it didn't look like it was moving. It was smiling at him.
Xander didn't bother wasting breath on a scream, he simply turned and ran.
He hadn't been that far from the library, had he? The school wasn't that big. He could make it. He glanced over his shoulder.
Flash. Three yards behind him, though not seeming to run.
Oh god, he was going to die.
Xander took the corner too fast, his sneakers skidding on an unexpected puddle (since when did the school leak?), and he slipped, then fell hard onto his shoulder and hip, his ankle twisting painfully.
Flash. A yard away, reaching for him.
He screamed then, and scrabbled at the floor, lunging forward. He could see the library doors now. So close to (relative) safety.
Something struck him from behind, sending him sliding across the floor headfirst into the lockers with a loud CLANG. His ears rang, and he could hear, dimly, as though it echoed through time itself, a single word in a cold, inhuman voice.
"Done."
Something brushed his left cheek and his face felt like it was on fire. He screamed again, curling himself into a ball on the floor by the lockers, his hands reaching up to cover his face.
He was going to die.
Hadn't they heard him screaming?
Buffy, HELP.
The pain left as quickly as it had arrived, and he lowered his hands. The dim red glow had returned to the hallways, and he could barely see the moon through the windows. What?
Then everything changed.
The school was a hollowed out, burned wreck. Bits of seared bone, large enough to belong in the dinosaur section of a museum, lay scattered across the floor. Lockers lay in half-melted puddles.
And it changed again.
The hallways were pointing the wrong way, and light streamed through the ceiling. Gray rubble lay across the floor, nearly blocking his view.
Of a beautiful woman, her eyes wide and empty, her face streaked with blood. Her body had been cut in half, diagonally across her torso. Her feet lay somewhere to his right, much to far from her body.
He shrieked and curled himself tighter into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut. What was happening to him? To the school? What-
A hand touched his shoulder, and he nearly cleared his own skin trying to scramble away from it. After a moment he heard a voice, soothing and familiar, close to his ear.
"Xander? What happened?"
Willow. Willow was okay. But didn't she see it? The woman, the ruins, the demon? How could she be so calm?
No, she wasn't calm. She was worried. About him. If she was worried she couldn't focus. If she couldn't focus, she couldn't figure out how to fix it. He had to let her know he was okay. He opened his eyes.
"Oh my god!"
Xander looked at her, then flinched backward. It was Willow there, but she was older, and her hair was dyed a stark black color.
It matched her eyes. And the veins that stood out on her forehead. She opened her mouth, twisting it into a parody of a reassuring smile, and reached for him.
Blood covered her hands, dripping off of them in long cords. She held a single bullet, half melted and flattened from the gun that had fired it. It, too, was bloody. She grabbed his arm with those blood- soaked fingers, and he whimpered, shoving himself backward. His head struck the lockers again, lockers which couldn't exist in the half-destroyed hallway.
"Xander, it's just me."
"No." Xander shook his head, turning to look away. The janitor chased one of his teachers through the hallway, screaming silently and waving a gun. He swallowed thickly.
"Buffy, hurry up! Something's wrong with him."
Something wasn't wrong with Xander, something was wrong with the WORLD. And Willow. That wasn't Willow next to him, gripping his biceps (let go, let go, please let go). His Willow was somewhere else, and this imposter wanted him to trust her, but how could he?
She barely even LOOKED like his Willow.
A hand touched his chin, soft and gentle, and smelling of the gingerbread lotion Buffy used. He let his body relax slightly.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
It sounded like Buffy. But it had sounded like Willow.
"Xander, look at me."
But it smelled like Buffy. Felt like Buffy. Had Willow smelled like Willow, too? He hadn't checked.
"Xander." The hand turned slightly more forceful, and Xander's head turned with it. "Oh."
Xander jerked away from the hand on his chin. Tricked again! The Buffy-thing was worse than the Willow-imposter. It had Buffy's face, but her eyes were dead. Her skin was mottled with greens and browns, and a horrible parchment white underneath. It hung loosely from rotting muscles, clung to tight to sunken cheeks and eye-sockets. Her hair was matted, mud caked, and her neck was twisted at a strange angle, as was her lower back.
"We've got to get him to Giles." The Willow-imposter had mastered worried-Willow, why hadn't it been able to take her face?
The Buffy-thing nodded, and Xander could see the bones in its neck shift where they shouldn't. She reached for him again, and Xander decided that adrenaline was overrated. Life-threatening situations were bad. He was insane to want to fight evil. He really, really just wanted to pass out and let someone else handle it.
So he did.
Xander had always dreamed of being a hero, of the adrenaline rush that came along with running for his life, or fighting for it. He craved it, now that he'd had it for real. The feeling of his blood singing in his veins as he fought at the side of the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.
Yeah, he wanted that right now, as a matter of fact. He felt like he had to be up, standing, running around. Not sitting in the hard wooden chair at the library table, staring at old books.
He glanced over to where Willow sat, typing rapidly into the computer. Buffy sat across from her, looking bored. He totally understood that. He was bored to tears too.
It couldn't hurt, Xander decided, to have a little extra researchy fuel.
"I'm gonna go grab a soda. Anybody want?" Xander stood, stretching out his tense thighs. Willow glanced up at him, grinning. Right then, grape soda for her. Giles looked up from his book, then shook his head. He'd probably go make tea, or something equally British. What was more British than tea? Xander decided he never wanted to know.
Buffy didn't look up from her book.
"Buffy? Soda?" She blinked, then shook herself. Xander grinned. He'd seen that look. It was the "I'm day-dreaming in class, and I just might have gotten caught" look. "I'm paying."
"Diet's good."
She smiled at him, and Xander nearly melted. God, he loved that smile.
"Okay. Be right back."
Xander pushed through the doors into the semi-dark of the hall way. With only the red glow of the exit signs to illuminate the space, the halls took on a slightly more sinister edge. Only slightly though. It took a lot to overcome the appeal of a school without the threat of classes. Xander set off toward the student lounge and the soda machines, whistling softly to himself.
Thunder crashed overhead, making Xander jump. He didn't remember a cloudy sky, or any thunderstorm predicted on television. Not that it would be the first time Crazy Jeffery of the Channel Four news team was wrong.
Lightning flashed in through the windows over the stairwell to his left, and even the dim lights of the exit signs flickered and died. Xander froze in place. A pitch dark hallway was not the place he wanted to be.
He shook himself. A power outage wasn't that rare, especially in a California thunderstorm. He set off again, whistling slightly louder. Even on a clear day, power outages happened. Nothing hellmouthy about that.
Lightning flashed again, the third time in almost thirty seconds, and this time, when it lit the hallway, there was someone there.
SomeTHING. Xander froze again, his eyes wide.
It was vaguely humanoid, But the pointed ears and curling horns eliminated that possibility. Xander squinted into the darkness. The thing seemed to be gone again, but he'd just SEEN it, standing only about ten yards away, at the junction of the hallways.
He needed Buffy. Pretty much NOW. He took a few steps backward.
Lightning, and there it was again. Only five yards away now, though it didn't look like it was moving. It was smiling at him.
Xander didn't bother wasting breath on a scream, he simply turned and ran.
He hadn't been that far from the library, had he? The school wasn't that big. He could make it. He glanced over his shoulder.
Flash. Three yards behind him, though not seeming to run.
Oh god, he was going to die.
Xander took the corner too fast, his sneakers skidding on an unexpected puddle (since when did the school leak?), and he slipped, then fell hard onto his shoulder and hip, his ankle twisting painfully.
Flash. A yard away, reaching for him.
He screamed then, and scrabbled at the floor, lunging forward. He could see the library doors now. So close to (relative) safety.
Something struck him from behind, sending him sliding across the floor headfirst into the lockers with a loud CLANG. His ears rang, and he could hear, dimly, as though it echoed through time itself, a single word in a cold, inhuman voice.
"Done."
Something brushed his left cheek and his face felt like it was on fire. He screamed again, curling himself into a ball on the floor by the lockers, his hands reaching up to cover his face.
He was going to die.
Hadn't they heard him screaming?
Buffy, HELP.
The pain left as quickly as it had arrived, and he lowered his hands. The dim red glow had returned to the hallways, and he could barely see the moon through the windows. What?
Then everything changed.
The school was a hollowed out, burned wreck. Bits of seared bone, large enough to belong in the dinosaur section of a museum, lay scattered across the floor. Lockers lay in half-melted puddles.
And it changed again.
The hallways were pointing the wrong way, and light streamed through the ceiling. Gray rubble lay across the floor, nearly blocking his view.
Of a beautiful woman, her eyes wide and empty, her face streaked with blood. Her body had been cut in half, diagonally across her torso. Her feet lay somewhere to his right, much to far from her body.
He shrieked and curled himself tighter into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut. What was happening to him? To the school? What-
A hand touched his shoulder, and he nearly cleared his own skin trying to scramble away from it. After a moment he heard a voice, soothing and familiar, close to his ear.
"Xander? What happened?"
Willow. Willow was okay. But didn't she see it? The woman, the ruins, the demon? How could she be so calm?
No, she wasn't calm. She was worried. About him. If she was worried she couldn't focus. If she couldn't focus, she couldn't figure out how to fix it. He had to let her know he was okay. He opened his eyes.
"Oh my god!"
Xander looked at her, then flinched backward. It was Willow there, but she was older, and her hair was dyed a stark black color.
It matched her eyes. And the veins that stood out on her forehead. She opened her mouth, twisting it into a parody of a reassuring smile, and reached for him.
Blood covered her hands, dripping off of them in long cords. She held a single bullet, half melted and flattened from the gun that had fired it. It, too, was bloody. She grabbed his arm with those blood- soaked fingers, and he whimpered, shoving himself backward. His head struck the lockers again, lockers which couldn't exist in the half-destroyed hallway.
"Xander, it's just me."
"No." Xander shook his head, turning to look away. The janitor chased one of his teachers through the hallway, screaming silently and waving a gun. He swallowed thickly.
"Buffy, hurry up! Something's wrong with him."
Something wasn't wrong with Xander, something was wrong with the WORLD. And Willow. That wasn't Willow next to him, gripping his biceps (let go, let go, please let go). His Willow was somewhere else, and this imposter wanted him to trust her, but how could he?
She barely even LOOKED like his Willow.
A hand touched his chin, soft and gentle, and smelling of the gingerbread lotion Buffy used. He let his body relax slightly.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
It sounded like Buffy. But it had sounded like Willow.
"Xander, look at me."
But it smelled like Buffy. Felt like Buffy. Had Willow smelled like Willow, too? He hadn't checked.
"Xander." The hand turned slightly more forceful, and Xander's head turned with it. "Oh."
Xander jerked away from the hand on his chin. Tricked again! The Buffy-thing was worse than the Willow-imposter. It had Buffy's face, but her eyes were dead. Her skin was mottled with greens and browns, and a horrible parchment white underneath. It hung loosely from rotting muscles, clung to tight to sunken cheeks and eye-sockets. Her hair was matted, mud caked, and her neck was twisted at a strange angle, as was her lower back.
"We've got to get him to Giles." The Willow-imposter had mastered worried-Willow, why hadn't it been able to take her face?
The Buffy-thing nodded, and Xander could see the bones in its neck shift where they shouldn't. She reached for him again, and Xander decided that adrenaline was overrated. Life-threatening situations were bad. He was insane to want to fight evil. He really, really just wanted to pass out and let someone else handle it.
So he did.