For Each Beloved Soul - Part 2
Part 2 of For Each Beloved Soul
Written for the 2010 IWRY Marathon. Time passes and our heroes enter heaven, all under the watchful eye of one very special angel.
A few earth years go by in a blur, and more heroes enter through the gates. An Irish half-demon gives me a smile, and I hear from one of the lower levels that the Slayer’s mother had passed on.
The second time I see Buffy Summers, she had finally grown into her power. She is still as tiny as ever; her long blond hair flowing down her back in straight lines. She’s wearing a simple white knit sweater and a pair of black Capri pants. Her eyes begin to look around as she leans towards me. I reclined back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting patiently.
She struts across the marble floor, her boots clicking softly as she heads towards me. She doesn’t utter a word as she stopped on the other side of the desk, laying her palms on the timber top. “Buffy Summers. Vampire Slayer,” she announces quietly.
“Welcome back,” I quipped, flashing a smile as I take the Slayer book from under the desk. “I have been wondering when you would come back. You certainly lasted much longer then the others.”
She doesn’t respond. She studies the room with a curious expression, her gaze lingering on the stairs. After a few minutes, she whirls around to glance at the gateway. Then, she turns her attention on me. She stares at my enlarged wings. “Nice place,” she murmured eventually.
I shrug in a casual manner. “Thanks. It comes with the job.” I unfold my arms and sit up straight, pushing my hair behind my ears “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Death,” she starts. “It’s my gift.”
I felt my heart sink at her words. She had taken her own life. One of the worst sins was committing suicide. “Oh dear…what did you do?” I reached out to pat her hand in comfort.
She sniffs, crinkling her nose. “What I had to do. I couldn’t just let her die. I had to save the world.”
I reluctantly opened the Slayer book, crossing out her name with a single line. Somewhere on earth, another Slayer had just been Chosen; called to their duty. Another girl had just become the instrument of the fight against evil, her fate consisting of a short life and a painful death. “You have done much good for the world,” I told her. “You know that, right?”
Buffy nods absently as she turns, her gaze lingering on the stairs. She produced a small smile before turning to climb the first step. She vanished almost immediately from my sight.
My eyes shifted to the floor as I fought back the tears. So young, so carefree…I hated that they had to die so quickly. It wasn’t right; these young girls being empowered with the essence of a murderous demon. What was wrong with the world? I solemnly shook my head at the foolishness of men. Even after all these years, I still didn’t understand the thoughts behind the actions. That humans, who put so much emphasis on right and wrong, were as capable of committing such vile acts as any common demon.
The room around me begins to dim; the lamps on the walls flickered excessively as electricity sizzled in the air. I felt my hair start to stand on end as the power in the room increased. From a long distance, across time and space, my ears picked up a shout, a chant in a series of words that I had not heard in a very, very long time.
I shivered; a witch was trying to raise the dead. I remembered the last time someone had tried this. It had been the first century when a Roman warrior was pulled into the pit by a demon. A warlock, a good friend of the soldier, had tried to bring him back. I still recall the horrid cries and screams of the soldier as he was being pulled from the pit. Unfortunately, the demon had accompanied him, ripping into the warlock and soldier while destroying their souls in the process. It was a horrible way to lose a life.
Raising the dead took an extreme amount of power, but it wasn‘t the only requirement. It took faith, a powerful will, and a person to die under mystical circumstances. There were so many possibilities that this particular type of spell could go awry. There was a reason the dead should stay dead. A soul had a right to be at peace.
My ears were attempting to pick up any sounds, catching a voice that was completing the spell. Inwardly, I shivered. I had a distinct feeling of who they were attempting to resurrect. She had died not that long ago; had, just in fact, just entered heaven. She was a powerful warrior and had died saving the world.
I felt more tears pricking at my eyelids. They were trying to bring back the Slayer. They were trying to bring back Buffy. “No,” I whispered. “No!” For the first time in an eternity, I left my post unattended. I raced out from behind my desk, crossing the room to run for the stairs.
A bright golden light came into my vision and I stumbled to a pause at the top of the stairs. I was now standing in heaven’s entrance. Paradise, Elysium, whatever you want to call it. It was a beautiful grassy field; sunny and warm. A singular path lead down the grassy hill and towards a sandy beach.
Buffy is standing on the path a few feet from me, a shocked look plastered on her face. She takes a step towards me. “I don’t want to go!” she cries out. She takes a hold of my hands. “Please, I’m happy here. I don’t want to go. Please!” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I tried to apologized.
She pleads frantically, her hair whipping in various directions. The chanting voices became unavoidable, and Buffy was now encased in a white light. I kiss her gently on the forehead. “Remember the warmth,” I tell her quickly, my voice urgent. “And know that you are welcomed back with open arms.”
She faces me directly in the eyes, blinking back tears, nodding. “I won’t forget.” With that said, she vanished before me as quickly as she had come. The magic tore her out of my steel grasp, sending her soul to plunge back into her body.
I begin to sob, swiping the tears from my cheeks. My body starts to shake; my wings fluttering anxiously behind me. “Why?” I whispered to myself. “Why!”
(v)
I am beginning to wonder if there are any warriors left on earth. It had been a long time since one had wandered through the gateway at the other side of the room.
At the turn of the twenty first century, I had felt a sudden burst of power travelling through the entire world, signalling the calling of hundreds of potentials. Since then there have been hundreds of Slayers that had come and gone. Up until that point I had always assumed that the Slayer was the ultimate warrior of good. But since the activation of the potentials, and after a few Slayers had died, I had finally realised something.
Being a Slayer does not automatically mean that one will become a hero. So many times power corrupts, and only the greatest of Slayers had been able to reach the edges of paradise.
One particular Slayer who had passed was a young Hispanic girl; she had fought and argued constantly while being dragged into the pit.
A few years later, another Slayer had fallen through. She was older, with long dark hair and large doe eyes. She was calm and steady. When I discovered that she had killed a human, I felt for her. Her later deeds, closing the hell mouth, and saving the world had prevented this Slayer from entering the pit as well.
I was just beginning to wonder if all of the Slayers were less then heroes when the gateway flared to life again. I raised my head from painting my nails bright red, producing a dazzling smile at the person before me. Buffy was entering through the gateway, her hair in a no-nonsense braid that was trailing down the centre of her back. Her hazel eyes were bright and clear; a few small lines at the corner of her eyes the only indication of the years that had passed. She was older then how I had remembered her; stronger, more sure of herself and happier than in the previous meeting.
She headed towards me and returned the smile as I saw the recognition developing in her eyes. “You’re looking good,” she contemplated me. “Any secrets you would like to share?”
I giggled. “I moisturise.”
Buffy laughs in response and studies the room. “It looks the same.”
I gave another shrug of my shoulders. “I’m thinking of putting a picture up or something; to brighten the place up so to speak. What do you think?”
Buffy nods furiously. “How about a nice seaside landscape or something?”
I accepted her suggestion. “I’ll talk to the boss. See what he can do.”
Buffy shifts on her feet again as I produced the Slayer book, crossing her name out for the third time. “Hopefully, you will stay here this time,” I conceded with a raise of my eyebrows. Another laugh came from her direction as she gave an impish grin.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not this time,” she retorted harshly.
“Good!” I snap back. “Because I really can’t deal with this any more. Do you know how much it hurts me when a soul is ripped from heaven? It’s happened way too many times in the last two centuries or so, and I’m tired of it.”
I could see her eyes becoming enlarged. “What?”
I pressed my lips together before answering. “You’ve been here twice before. Did you know that? As for Angel? I met him when he wandered in here entirely drunk back in 1753. I have seen him being ripped out of here twice since then. And not all that long ago, another soul was also released. I didn’t realise it right away because it didn’t display violent tendencies. The soul had wanted to go, but it’s gone all the same.”
“Spike?” Buffy questioned.
I nodded in confirmation. “The name the vampire took? Yeah, that’s him, though I knew him by William. He was a sweet man.” I looked away. “But Angel himself; he should be here. No one has to deal with what he had to go through.”
“He has done a lot of good. I know that,” Buffy offered, pride laced in her voice.
I gave her a curious gaze, noticing the determination in her eyes. “I don’t doubt that,”
Then I fell silent as a sudden thought ran rampant in my mind. I watched her, eye on her movements. “You will never stop loving him will you?” I asked, I wanted to know.
She laughs again. “No. Never.” She fell into silence, biting her lip in contemplation.
“Do you think I could stay here?”
I blinked, my mouth agape. “What? Stay here? Why?”
“I want to wait for him to come again so we can go to heaven together.” She smiled, her eyes flashing.
“He is a vampire, so you could be waiting a really long time,“ I prompted. It wasn’t against the rules. Purgatory was a place in between after all. She could stay here for as long as she wanted, though it was unconventional. But she had never been one for obeying the rules.
She shrugged meekly. “I can sit in the corner. Do you have any books or magazines I can read?”
The smile returned to my lips as I reached under the desk, tugging a small book. I hand it to her and she froze, her body still and straight as her eyes widened in surprise. “Sonnets of the Portuguese,” she muttered, stroking the cover tenderly.
“You know of it?” I was startled.
She nodded, her attention still on the book. “Yeah. For my eighteenth birthday, Angel gave me this book.” She licked her lips. “It’s my favourite.” she threw in another smile, taking the book to sit across the room.
I watched in silence as Buffy began to flip through the pages, happiness in her expression as she sat back to immerse herself in the novel.
(v)
Being immortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I see so many souls come and go, but only a few had the ability to touch me as deeply as the heroes that I had met. Young and old, Slayers, doctors, humanitarians, saints; all of them are heroes in their own way.
Buffy has been waiting for a long time, over five hundred years, and not once has she made a move from her spot.
I, on the other hand, needed to clean again. The place was becoming dirty. Not a surprise. You think a place like this would be free from dust, but no! I think it’s his way of keeping me humble.
Buffy turns another page of her book before coming to the end, flipping the book to begin her never ending reading session.
As for myself, I was cleaning the place; sweeping the floors, polishing the marble staircase, bookcases, desks, anything else that needed it. I felt Buffy’s eyes lingering on my back.
We both jumped, startled beyond belief when the gateway begins to glow. At first I was convinced that it is just an ordinary person passing through, but when I saw the worn leather coat, the tall, muscular frame, my wings fluttered, a feather falls to the floor. He stepped out of the white light, his warm brown eyes immediately finding Buffy’s.
He flashed a genuine smile.
Buffy looks up, closing the book’s cover as she placed it on the couch beside her. She stands up and rapidly walks towards him. When she is close, she circles her arms around him, and kisses him softly. Angel grins against those lips, wrapping his arms around her waist, as he held her against him.
Tears shimmered in Buffy’s eyes as she held on to him with a desperation and need that had only burned inside her for so long. “I’ve waited,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ve waited for you for so long.”
He bends his head down and brought his lips to hers, closing his eyes as she sighed and melted into his fierce touch. “I never forgot you. I fought as hard as I could and I did everything that I promised I would do,” he stated. “I helped to save the world.” Buffy giggled, adding some distance between them. “I knew you would,” she cajoled, kissing his mouth again, taking his hand as they made their way towards me.
I cocked my eyebrows at him. “It’s about time,” I muttered impatiently, rolling my eyes.
He smirked. “Yeah, well, it took longer than I had expected.”
I rose and made my way through the stacks again, pushing my way through thickening cobwebs, my footsteps creating tracks on the dusty floor. I reached for the book from 1753; it’s full of fresh motes of dust, and I coughed and wrinkled my nose in disgust as a large dirty black spot appeared on my dress.
I placed it on the desk and flipped it open. The name Liam O’Rourke is clear on the page. I grabbed my pen and crossed it out. I grinned at the couple. “Are you ready now?” I ask them.
They both nodded, smiling at each other. “I have been waiting for this moment my entire life,” Angel whispered, squeezing Buffy’s hand.
The Slayer smiled, her eyes drinking him in. “Forever?” she began.
He smirked at her. “Just try and get rid of me.”
As one, they begin to turn, both facing the edge of the stairs, their bodies glowing with the strength of their souls. I kept my watch on them, a tear brimming in my eye as they escalated each of the steps.
Heroes, they were. Both strong souls, spending their life together in eternity, it’s as it should be.
I could think of nothing that I liked better.
Written for the 2010 IWRY Marathon. Time passes and our heroes enter heaven, all under the watchful eye of one very special angel.
A few earth years go by in a blur, and more heroes enter through the gates. An Irish half-demon gives me a smile, and I hear from one of the lower levels that the Slayer’s mother had passed on.
The second time I see Buffy Summers, she had finally grown into her power. She is still as tiny as ever; her long blond hair flowing down her back in straight lines. She’s wearing a simple white knit sweater and a pair of black Capri pants. Her eyes begin to look around as she leans towards me. I reclined back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting patiently.
She struts across the marble floor, her boots clicking softly as she heads towards me. She doesn’t utter a word as she stopped on the other side of the desk, laying her palms on the timber top. “Buffy Summers. Vampire Slayer,” she announces quietly.
“Welcome back,” I quipped, flashing a smile as I take the Slayer book from under the desk. “I have been wondering when you would come back. You certainly lasted much longer then the others.”
She doesn’t respond. She studies the room with a curious expression, her gaze lingering on the stairs. After a few minutes, she whirls around to glance at the gateway. Then, she turns her attention on me. She stares at my enlarged wings. “Nice place,” she murmured eventually.
I shrug in a casual manner. “Thanks. It comes with the job.” I unfold my arms and sit up straight, pushing my hair behind my ears “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Death,” she starts. “It’s my gift.”
I felt my heart sink at her words. She had taken her own life. One of the worst sins was committing suicide. “Oh dear…what did you do?” I reached out to pat her hand in comfort.
She sniffs, crinkling her nose. “What I had to do. I couldn’t just let her die. I had to save the world.”
I reluctantly opened the Slayer book, crossing out her name with a single line. Somewhere on earth, another Slayer had just been Chosen; called to their duty. Another girl had just become the instrument of the fight against evil, her fate consisting of a short life and a painful death. “You have done much good for the world,” I told her. “You know that, right?”
Buffy nods absently as she turns, her gaze lingering on the stairs. She produced a small smile before turning to climb the first step. She vanished almost immediately from my sight.
My eyes shifted to the floor as I fought back the tears. So young, so carefree…I hated that they had to die so quickly. It wasn’t right; these young girls being empowered with the essence of a murderous demon. What was wrong with the world? I solemnly shook my head at the foolishness of men. Even after all these years, I still didn’t understand the thoughts behind the actions. That humans, who put so much emphasis on right and wrong, were as capable of committing such vile acts as any common demon.
The room around me begins to dim; the lamps on the walls flickered excessively as electricity sizzled in the air. I felt my hair start to stand on end as the power in the room increased. From a long distance, across time and space, my ears picked up a shout, a chant in a series of words that I had not heard in a very, very long time.
I shivered; a witch was trying to raise the dead. I remembered the last time someone had tried this. It had been the first century when a Roman warrior was pulled into the pit by a demon. A warlock, a good friend of the soldier, had tried to bring him back. I still recall the horrid cries and screams of the soldier as he was being pulled from the pit. Unfortunately, the demon had accompanied him, ripping into the warlock and soldier while destroying their souls in the process. It was a horrible way to lose a life.
Raising the dead took an extreme amount of power, but it wasn‘t the only requirement. It took faith, a powerful will, and a person to die under mystical circumstances. There were so many possibilities that this particular type of spell could go awry. There was a reason the dead should stay dead. A soul had a right to be at peace.
My ears were attempting to pick up any sounds, catching a voice that was completing the spell. Inwardly, I shivered. I had a distinct feeling of who they were attempting to resurrect. She had died not that long ago; had, just in fact, just entered heaven. She was a powerful warrior and had died saving the world.
I felt more tears pricking at my eyelids. They were trying to bring back the Slayer. They were trying to bring back Buffy. “No,” I whispered. “No!” For the first time in an eternity, I left my post unattended. I raced out from behind my desk, crossing the room to run for the stairs.
A bright golden light came into my vision and I stumbled to a pause at the top of the stairs. I was now standing in heaven’s entrance. Paradise, Elysium, whatever you want to call it. It was a beautiful grassy field; sunny and warm. A singular path lead down the grassy hill and towards a sandy beach.
Buffy is standing on the path a few feet from me, a shocked look plastered on her face. She takes a step towards me. “I don’t want to go!” she cries out. She takes a hold of my hands. “Please, I’m happy here. I don’t want to go. Please!” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I tried to apologized.
She pleads frantically, her hair whipping in various directions. The chanting voices became unavoidable, and Buffy was now encased in a white light. I kiss her gently on the forehead. “Remember the warmth,” I tell her quickly, my voice urgent. “And know that you are welcomed back with open arms.”
She faces me directly in the eyes, blinking back tears, nodding. “I won’t forget.” With that said, she vanished before me as quickly as she had come. The magic tore her out of my steel grasp, sending her soul to plunge back into her body.
I begin to sob, swiping the tears from my cheeks. My body starts to shake; my wings fluttering anxiously behind me. “Why?” I whispered to myself. “Why!”
(v)
I am beginning to wonder if there are any warriors left on earth. It had been a long time since one had wandered through the gateway at the other side of the room.
At the turn of the twenty first century, I had felt a sudden burst of power travelling through the entire world, signalling the calling of hundreds of potentials. Since then there have been hundreds of Slayers that had come and gone. Up until that point I had always assumed that the Slayer was the ultimate warrior of good. But since the activation of the potentials, and after a few Slayers had died, I had finally realised something.
Being a Slayer does not automatically mean that one will become a hero. So many times power corrupts, and only the greatest of Slayers had been able to reach the edges of paradise.
One particular Slayer who had passed was a young Hispanic girl; she had fought and argued constantly while being dragged into the pit.
A few years later, another Slayer had fallen through. She was older, with long dark hair and large doe eyes. She was calm and steady. When I discovered that she had killed a human, I felt for her. Her later deeds, closing the hell mouth, and saving the world had prevented this Slayer from entering the pit as well.
I was just beginning to wonder if all of the Slayers were less then heroes when the gateway flared to life again. I raised my head from painting my nails bright red, producing a dazzling smile at the person before me. Buffy was entering through the gateway, her hair in a no-nonsense braid that was trailing down the centre of her back. Her hazel eyes were bright and clear; a few small lines at the corner of her eyes the only indication of the years that had passed. She was older then how I had remembered her; stronger, more sure of herself and happier than in the previous meeting.
She headed towards me and returned the smile as I saw the recognition developing in her eyes. “You’re looking good,” she contemplated me. “Any secrets you would like to share?”
I giggled. “I moisturise.”
Buffy laughs in response and studies the room. “It looks the same.”
I gave another shrug of my shoulders. “I’m thinking of putting a picture up or something; to brighten the place up so to speak. What do you think?”
Buffy nods furiously. “How about a nice seaside landscape or something?”
I accepted her suggestion. “I’ll talk to the boss. See what he can do.”
Buffy shifts on her feet again as I produced the Slayer book, crossing her name out for the third time. “Hopefully, you will stay here this time,” I conceded with a raise of my eyebrows. Another laugh came from her direction as she gave an impish grin.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not this time,” she retorted harshly.
“Good!” I snap back. “Because I really can’t deal with this any more. Do you know how much it hurts me when a soul is ripped from heaven? It’s happened way too many times in the last two centuries or so, and I’m tired of it.”
I could see her eyes becoming enlarged. “What?”
I pressed my lips together before answering. “You’ve been here twice before. Did you know that? As for Angel? I met him when he wandered in here entirely drunk back in 1753. I have seen him being ripped out of here twice since then. And not all that long ago, another soul was also released. I didn’t realise it right away because it didn’t display violent tendencies. The soul had wanted to go, but it’s gone all the same.”
“Spike?” Buffy questioned.
I nodded in confirmation. “The name the vampire took? Yeah, that’s him, though I knew him by William. He was a sweet man.” I looked away. “But Angel himself; he should be here. No one has to deal with what he had to go through.”
“He has done a lot of good. I know that,” Buffy offered, pride laced in her voice.
I gave her a curious gaze, noticing the determination in her eyes. “I don’t doubt that,”
Then I fell silent as a sudden thought ran rampant in my mind. I watched her, eye on her movements. “You will never stop loving him will you?” I asked, I wanted to know.
She laughs again. “No. Never.” She fell into silence, biting her lip in contemplation.
“Do you think I could stay here?”
I blinked, my mouth agape. “What? Stay here? Why?”
“I want to wait for him to come again so we can go to heaven together.” She smiled, her eyes flashing.
“He is a vampire, so you could be waiting a really long time,“ I prompted. It wasn’t against the rules. Purgatory was a place in between after all. She could stay here for as long as she wanted, though it was unconventional. But she had never been one for obeying the rules.
She shrugged meekly. “I can sit in the corner. Do you have any books or magazines I can read?”
The smile returned to my lips as I reached under the desk, tugging a small book. I hand it to her and she froze, her body still and straight as her eyes widened in surprise. “Sonnets of the Portuguese,” she muttered, stroking the cover tenderly.
“You know of it?” I was startled.
She nodded, her attention still on the book. “Yeah. For my eighteenth birthday, Angel gave me this book.” She licked her lips. “It’s my favourite.” she threw in another smile, taking the book to sit across the room.
I watched in silence as Buffy began to flip through the pages, happiness in her expression as she sat back to immerse herself in the novel.
(v)
Being immortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I see so many souls come and go, but only a few had the ability to touch me as deeply as the heroes that I had met. Young and old, Slayers, doctors, humanitarians, saints; all of them are heroes in their own way.
Buffy has been waiting for a long time, over five hundred years, and not once has she made a move from her spot.
I, on the other hand, needed to clean again. The place was becoming dirty. Not a surprise. You think a place like this would be free from dust, but no! I think it’s his way of keeping me humble.
Buffy turns another page of her book before coming to the end, flipping the book to begin her never ending reading session.
As for myself, I was cleaning the place; sweeping the floors, polishing the marble staircase, bookcases, desks, anything else that needed it. I felt Buffy’s eyes lingering on my back.
We both jumped, startled beyond belief when the gateway begins to glow. At first I was convinced that it is just an ordinary person passing through, but when I saw the worn leather coat, the tall, muscular frame, my wings fluttered, a feather falls to the floor. He stepped out of the white light, his warm brown eyes immediately finding Buffy’s.
He flashed a genuine smile.
Buffy looks up, closing the book’s cover as she placed it on the couch beside her. She stands up and rapidly walks towards him. When she is close, she circles her arms around him, and kisses him softly. Angel grins against those lips, wrapping his arms around her waist, as he held her against him.
Tears shimmered in Buffy’s eyes as she held on to him with a desperation and need that had only burned inside her for so long. “I’ve waited,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ve waited for you for so long.”
He bends his head down and brought his lips to hers, closing his eyes as she sighed and melted into his fierce touch. “I never forgot you. I fought as hard as I could and I did everything that I promised I would do,” he stated. “I helped to save the world.” Buffy giggled, adding some distance between them. “I knew you would,” she cajoled, kissing his mouth again, taking his hand as they made their way towards me.
I cocked my eyebrows at him. “It’s about time,” I muttered impatiently, rolling my eyes.
He smirked. “Yeah, well, it took longer than I had expected.”
I rose and made my way through the stacks again, pushing my way through thickening cobwebs, my footsteps creating tracks on the dusty floor. I reached for the book from 1753; it’s full of fresh motes of dust, and I coughed and wrinkled my nose in disgust as a large dirty black spot appeared on my dress.
I placed it on the desk and flipped it open. The name Liam O’Rourke is clear on the page. I grabbed my pen and crossed it out. I grinned at the couple. “Are you ready now?” I ask them.
They both nodded, smiling at each other. “I have been waiting for this moment my entire life,” Angel whispered, squeezing Buffy’s hand.
The Slayer smiled, her eyes drinking him in. “Forever?” she began.
He smirked at her. “Just try and get rid of me.”
As one, they begin to turn, both facing the edge of the stairs, their bodies glowing with the strength of their souls. I kept my watch on them, a tear brimming in my eye as they escalated each of the steps.
Heroes, they were. Both strong souls, spending their life together in eternity, it’s as it should be.
I could think of nothing that I liked better.