Title: At Any Cost
Author: Paul aka Darth Pacula
Distribution: Knock yourself out, just ask first. ( That means yes if you're not sure )
Feedback: Go nuts. The more the merrier. Unless you're all wanting to roast me at the stake that is. Then, less is more. My email address is
darthpacula@hotmail.com if you prefer.
Disclaimers: I own nothing from Buffy, Angel or any such associated franchise. Is that disclaimered enough? Is disclaimered even a word?
Summary: A powerful, ruthless and unstable figure begins to meddle in Willow and Tara's lives, with unforeseen consequences.
Rating: I think this update is definately a hard R, ladies and gents.
Timeline: Well now, it starts off just before the end of Seeing Red, but will contain elements of an altered Season 7.
Spoilers: Err ... pretty much the entire show. If you haven't seen any of it yet, and actually want to, you just aren't trying hard enough.
Thoughts are in
italics.
A/N: This update gets a bit angsty, and then it gets quite violent. Just giving you a heads up.
Part 27.Aaron Collier loved his new existence. Sure, dying had sucked, though he supposed there were worse ways to go than to be drunk like a juice box by a hot woman, but being a vampire rocked! He was stronger and faster than he'd ever been, and the pure simple rush of killing was better than he'd ever imagined.
Of course, Maria hasn't even glanced at me since, and the one time I tried to talk to her ... she nearly ripped my jaw off! Still ....He'd always been a night owl, staying up into the late hours of the night playing computer games, so giving up sunlight was hardly a hardship. Not when you factored the potential for eternal life into the equation.
The only thing that Aaron didn't especially appreciate was being a flunky. An eternity as an indentured servant didn't especially appeal, though Aaron was careful not to let his opinions be widely heard. Not since that big gorilla Bixby had given him a public lesson in obedience, which had consisted in Aaron getting the crap kicked out of him.
Still, if I've got eternity then I've got plenty of time to go my own way, he had decided while licking his many, many wounds. It was a resolution that had been dwelling on the new vampire's mind ever since, and Aaron had decided that he was going to go his separate way sooner rather than later.
But not right now. Not when I get the chance to play with this!Aaron followed the example Bixby was presenting to him and the other nine vampires that had been selected for this 'mission', and pulled back the cocking lever. The resulting metallic sound as a round was jacked into the rifle's firing chamber sent a thrilling chill down his spine.
Stroking his fingertips along the AK-47's surface of slick metal and polished wood, Aaron imagined it kicking in his hands, spewing swift death at his enemies.
Oh yeah, this is so much better than the games!**********
“His name is Nathaniel Haust,” Tara announced solemnly to the rest of the scoobies, Willow sat close beside her, repeatedly stroking the surface of the leather bound book.
It had been the redhead's suggestion that they wait for Xander, Anya and Dawn to arrive before starting their latest meeting. Tara imagined that her lover still held a minuscule amount of resentment from the last meeting that she had been left out of, and had resolved to prevent anyone else from feeling the same way. In Dawn's case, that had meant breaking a study date with her friend Janice, something that Tara had the sneaking suspicion Dawn had no problem with whatsoever.
“Are you sure of that?” Anya brusquely asked, eying the spell book suspiciously.
“Why wouldn't we?” Willow shot back, slightly defensive. “It's right here, in black and white,” she expounded, tapping emphatically on the tome's cover.
“You know for sure that book belonged to Nameless?” Anya countered once more. “Just on the say-so of a demon you barely know?”
“He didn't just give it to us, Anya,” interjected Giles. “I had to pay several hundred dollars for it.”
“That's coming out of your own personal money, right?” Anya demanded. “Not the Magic Box?”
“Good lord, Anya! This is hardly the time or place to discuss fiduciary matters!”
“That means money stuff,” Xander hissed quietly at Dawn as an aside.
“
I know that,” Dawn hissed back defensively. “How do
you know that?”
Aside from a mild rolling of his eyes, Xander seemed to take little offense at Dawn's surprise. “When you spend as much time around Anya as I have, you pick up these sort of financial word-type-things.”
“Terminology,” Willow supplied absently.
“That too,” Xander added.
“Are we quite finished now? Could we get perhaps get back on topic?” asked Giles acerbically, to which Xander replied with a forcibly casual shrug and a lordly wave indicating for Giles to continue.
With a long suffering sigh, Giles did exactly that. “Tara, I assume you and Willow found something that indicated that Nameless is in fact this Nathaniel Haust? Am I correct in my assumption that this Mr Haust is either the book's author, or its owner?”
“Yes, both, I think,” Tara confirmed. “It's all handwritten, in the same hand too.”
“How do you know that Nameless didn't just steal it from someone else?” asked Buffy reluctantly, disliking the idea of joining the general atmosphere of doubt casting, but feeling that the question had to be asked.
Fortunately for Buffy's peace of mind, Willow didn't take offense. In fact, she was pleased by the opportunity to display her investigative prowess.
“I'm glad you asked that Buffy,” announced the redhead proudly, and Tara concealed an indulgent smile behind her hand at her lover's happy tone. “The spells that are in this book ... many of them are ones that we have seen Nameless using.”
“But that doesn't mean ...” Anya began, but Willow cut her off, nodding enthusiastically.
“I know! But this isn't just a spell book, you see! He's added notations all over the place, listing where and when each spell has been used, how effective it was, and other things like that! He makes several references to Hyriault, references that could only have been written by someone who was personally there. He also makes references to people ... well, demons actually, but that doesn't really matter does it? Anya was a demon, but that doesn't make her less of a person ... oh, and Clem! He's a demon, but ...”
“Will, sweetie?” Tara noted in amusement. “You know I love your babbling, but you're veering from the point here.”
“Whoops,” Willow mumbled with a red-faced grin. “Sorry ... um, where was I?”
“You mentioned references to certain people ...” Giles supplied, and Willow offered him a thankful smile in return.
“Yep, certain people, and places, whose names I recognize.” Willow emphatically stated this as if it were the cinching argument, but all of the other scoobies bar Tara just looked at Willow in bewilderment.
It was Xander who voiced what they were all feeling, albeit with his own certain brand of eloquence. “Um ... so what?” he asked apologetically. “I don't get your point, Will.”
Brow furrowing in disappointment, Willow pouted for a handful of seconds before realizing that she'd left out an important part of her reasoning.
“Oh! Right, sorry,” she replied, blushing in embarrassment. “I forgot to mention where I recognize them from, didn't I?”
“Kinda, Will. Just a little bit,” Buffy teased, holding thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart.
“You know that dream I had? The one of Nameless' past? I heard the names of people and places in Hyriault, places and people that are mentioned in this book, in exactly the same context. That's just too much of a coincidence, don'tcha think?”
“I dunno, Will,” replied Buffy hesitantly. “Isn't that just a bit convenient? I mean ... we've been hitting brick walls for ages now, and we just suddenly stumble on the one thing we need to ID the bad guy?”
“How is this different to usual, Buffy?” Willow insisted indignantly, defending her theory with a pugnacious thrust of her chin. “Don't we normally pull off a last minute save? What's different about this?”
“I believe I share Buffy's reservations, Willow. This does seem ...” Giles began, but the redhead cut him off angrily.
“Oh, of course you do, Giles!” she snapped. “What else would you do! You're always doubting my abilities!”
“Sweetie, Giles isn't ...” Tara tried, her tone soothing, but Willow's blood was running hot now, and she overrode her lover as easily as she had Giles.
“Of course he is! I can't be trusted, remember? I'm the one who couldn't handle the power, who put the blame for all of my mistakes on the magic rather than on myself. I'm the one who has the dream visions of the bad guy, but can I be trusted? No! If it'd been Buffy who had them, well they'd be gospel wouldn't they!”
“Hey!” complained Buffy loudly. “What's with the personal attacks? I never said you couldn't be trusted!”
“No, you just rolled over and played dead while Giles trampled all over me! I thought you were supposed to be my friend!”
“I never ...” Giles started to mutter beneath his breath, but gave it up as a lost cause when he noticed that no-one was paying attention to him.
“Willow ...” Tara tried again, desperately, but with just as little success as her first attempt.
“I am your friend,” Buffy argued, paying just as little attention to Tara as Willow did. “Even when you're being an overly sensitive jerk, like now, I'm your friend!”
“Ah ... guys?” Xander interjected, making his own ultimately futile attempt to calm the situation.
“Yeah?” Willow shot back disdainfully, lurching to her feet. “Funny way of showing it! And since when has Giles been in charge again, huh? What, he comes back, and your spine turns to jelly?”
“Willow makes an valid point there,” Anya noted, and both Willow and Buffy rounded on her angrily.
“Shut up, Anya!” they both snapped at the same time, and Anya scowled.
“Fine! Just see if I help when Nameless possesses Willow's baby!”
A brief moments silence was shattered as the room rang to a chorus of “What?” from multiple throats, and Giles let his head fall into his cupped hands as he awaited the inevitable storm that he knew Anya's slip of the tongue would conjure.
“Oh, bugger.”
**********
A jaunty tune trickled from my lips as I rummaged with both hands inside the corpse's chest cavity. This particular corpse was that of an obese man, somewhere in his mid thirties. From the cursory inspection I had made before proceeding, he didn't appear to have been the victim of a violent death. I might have come across the rarest of beasts; one of those few souls who suffered a natural death in the environs of Sunnydale, California.
Not that I was especially interested, one way or the other. It was more mild curiosity, something to keep the unoccupied areas of my mind busy and out of the way while I worked. The happy little song I was whistling arose to a triumphant crescendo as I wrenched out the handful of intestines I currently held, and tossed them blindly over one shoulder to land on the floor with a wet splat.
A recalcitrant lock of hair fell down into my eyes, and I tried futilely to blow it clear of my field of vision. After such efforts repeatedly failed, I gave up and brushed it out of the way with one hand, a hand heavily coated with coagulated blood. Needless to say, it left my hair in a less than pristine fashion.
Oh no! I silently mimed to thin air.
Not the hair! I have to look my best, or no-one will invite me to prom! I chortled quietly in self-amusement for a moment, before sighing and returning to work. I had processed three corpses in total so far, each of which were currently baking their outer shells. So I still had plenty of work to do before I would be finished.
I began whistling a new tune as I bent over the corpse and shoved one arm back in, feeling around blindly for what was proving to be an especially elusive spleen. It had been a slippery little bastard thus far, but I was determined to get it, even if I had to rip this fat-ass in half to do so.
**********
One hand stroked the barrel of his assault rifle lovingly as Aaron Collier stared out the window of the van in rapt fascination. Like most of the population of Sunnydale, Aaron had long ago come to the subconscious decision to avoid late night jaunts out on the town. It was only now that he himself had become one of the dark and terrible things stalking the night that Aaron realized why he had come to that decision.
So it was that he beheld the sight of his hometown at might as if with new eyes.
It was strange, Aaron mused thoughtfully,
just how different things look at night. Even the most innocuous, innocent locations seem full of the promise of violence and danger. Or is it not Sunnydale that has changed, but me?The van pulled to a sudden halt in obedience to a barked command from another vampire in the front passenger seat. This vampire was one of the old guard, one of those who had followed Isiah Hawkins to the Hellmouth with the promise of a Slayer's blood, and a town to rule as their own. Aaron didn't even know this other vampire's name, as, like many of his peers, he rarely deigned to even speak to new recruits like Aaron.
A quick glance out the window confirmed that they had not yet reached their destination, but were in fact still a few minutes drive away. Despite this, the vampire that had called the halt leapt out of the van, a long duffel bag in one hand, and swiftly vanished into the night's gloom.
“Why are we ...” Aaron began.
The vampire in the drivers seat turned around and casually backhanded Aaron in the face so hard that Aaron's ears rang, and black spots danced before his eyes with the force of the blow.
“Need to know, fresh meat,” growled the vampire sullenly. “And you don't need to know shit.”
Aaron forced himself to subside quietly, though his teeth clenched and hatred burned in his cold, dead heart.
Just you wait, Aaron silently promised,
one day I'll make you regret that.With nothing else to do, Aaron returned his attention to the passing scenery as the van resumed it's course. Revello Drive was only a few minutes away now.
**********
“What the heck are you talking about, Anya?” Willow demanded, her voice not so much cold as it was glacial, lacking any sign of its customary warmth. That much alone should have warned Anya that she was walking on dangerous ground, but Anya was no more inclined towards subtlety than she was at any other time.
“Giles and I think ...” There was a muffled groan from Giles as Anya mentioned his name.
“Giles too?” Willow intoned flatly, swinging her head to stare at Giles, her gaze boring into him like an auger. “You've both been talking about me behind my back?”
“You're keeping secrets from us?” Buffy added disbelievingly, a look of betrayal on her face. “With
Anya?”
“What's that supposed to mean!” Anya protested.
“Well, you kinda did just blurt out your secret, Ahn,” stated Xander in what he obviously hoped would be a soothing tone of voice. But for Anya, Xander's voice could have been audibly transmitted Valium and it still wouldn't have been soothing.
“Oh, now it's your turn, is it?” Anya snarled as she rounded on her former fiance in a fury. “What, leaving me at the alter and ruining my life wasn't enough for you?”
“Ahn, no, please ...” Xander pleaded.
Tara could only watch in dismay as the meeting dissolved into utter chaos. What had been a meeting of friends ... no, of adoptive family, was being devolved by stress, fear and worry into a jumbled mess of bickering and spiraling anger. It was far beyond the point where Tara could defuse the situation with a calm word or too, and in point of fact she was feeling pretty put out herself over what appeared to be secret meetings between Giles and Anya.
Angry voices were beginning to blend into one another now, running over the top of one another without regard.
“What did you mean about my baby!”
“Go to hell, Xander! Literally!”
“Stop it! Just stop it!”
“How could you keep secrets from me! After all we've been through!”
“Dammit, Ahn! I'm getting sick of taking your crap!”
“Oh, stop acting like a bunch of children!”
Tara caught a glimpse of Katie on the other side of the room, standing just outside the dining room doorway, regarding the squabbling group of furious adults with eyes that were dark and mournful. And all Tara could do was share a helpless glance as her world fell apart around her.
**********
The van pulled up next to the curb, and the vampire behind the wheel turned and barked an order for the others to exit. Positioned on the opposite side of the van to the sliding door as he was, Aaron was forced to be one of the last vampires to exit.
The driver, a lean whip of a man with brutal, scared features named Joseph, was another of Isiah's old guard, in this case a former soldier who fought for the British in the Boer War. Snarling quiet insults like a rabid dog, Joseph chivvied them into a ragged line, muttering disparaging comments under his breath in between imprecations.
Resisting the urge to poke out his tongue while Joseph's back was turned, Aaron grudgingly joined his comrades, cradling his rifle in his arms as if afraid it would be taken away from him. He felt his demonic visage slip over him without warning, called forth by the prospect of imminent violence. Aaron felt almost as if he were about to start slavering with anticipation, and he knew now that he'd made the right choice when he'd lied to Bixby about having used a firearm before.
With all the games I've played, and Skirmish and Laser-tag ... hell, I reckon I'm just as well trained as a real soldier!With a kick to the backside of a straggler, Joseph spat an order for them to march, and Aaron followed as his fellow vampires set off in haphazard fashion, no two of them moving in step. While Joseph might bitch and whine about a so-called 'lack of proper discipline', Aaron knew that didn't matter. What mattered was the rifle full of hot metal death that he carried in his hands.
Time to show these other losers what I'm made of!**********
A pulsing light suddenly blossomed into eager life, an azure beacon lighting up the shadowed corners of my lair. I spun around, suddenly uncaring of the corpse I'd been working on, to glare at the collection of several crystal orbs arranged on the wall, one of which was now pulsing a cold, sterile blue color.
Together, they formed an early warning system similar to that with which Tara had ringed her docile, albeit broader in scope. Where hers was meant to catch one specific threat, in the form of myself, I had expanded mine to detect anything supernatural or demonic in nature.
Never let it be said I was afraid to pilfer and improve on someone else's ideas.The color, a pale, cold blue, represented the equally cold flesh of the walking dead. Vampires, to be specific, and the intensity of the light indicated that it was more than one. Zombies would have been a more green-gray in color, the hue of rotting flesh. The rapidly increasing rate with which the crystal pulsed indicated that they were drawing ever nearer.
“What the hell?” I snarled, lurching to my feet. Isiah.
The self-styled vampire heir to the throne of Sunnydale was making a play on my witches!**********
Joseph called a halt, and the file of vampires lurched to a graceless halt. A snarled order bade them to all turn to one side, facing their target, and ready their weapons. Grinning inanely, Aaron held his AK-47 at hip level, finger twitching with anticipation as it reached for the trigger.
A swift blow to the back of his head made Aaron flinch, and Joseph yanked the younger vampire's head back with a tight grip in Aaron's hair, growling contemptuously in his ear.
“At shoulder level, you bloody little idiot!”
Then Joseph was gone, striding down the line, barking orders with quiet vehemence, and Aaron glared at his tormentor as he went.
Arrogant prick! What the hell does he know! A savage smile spread like an open wound across Aaron's acne scarred features, and his fingers tightened convulsively as he imagined Joseph's throat in his grasp.
They also tightened on the trigger.
**********
Tara at first wasn't sure what had happened. She had finally shaken off the fatalistic lethargy that had been besieging her, and had been trying to restore some sense of sanity to the sprawling fracas that her friends had imploded into. Trying to play impartial referee to several simultaneous arguments at once wasn't an easy task.
So, when the window shattered, immediately followed likewise by a vase on the dining room table, Tara didn't know what to think. She did feel relief though, for if nothing else it served to halt the raging argument.
“What the heck was that!” asked Willow, looking around in confusion. While her face was flushed from her recent heated words, Tara was glad to see that Willow seemed to had shed most of the anger that had been driving her.
Tara knew what had been behind her partner's extreme reaction. Willow had been lashing out in fear and panic over her situation. The revelation that Giles and Anya had been meeting in secret had served to punch a hole in the dam of repressed emotion that had building up since this whole affair had begun, and the resulting release had been understandably explosive.
“Who broke my window?” demanded Buffy huffily, and the nature of her reaction nearly brought a smile to Tara's face. The inanities of everyday life, and Buffy's ever-present financial woes had distracted the Slayer from the verbal brawl she had just been involved in, and Tara desperately hoped that meant that no lasting damage had been done to her friendship with the rest of the scoobies.
But while the rest of them were trading sheepish looks, uncertain how to continue, Xander was moving towards the broken window, muttering something under his breath. It took several moments of concentration before Tara figured out what he'd said.
What does he mean, was that a gunshot?By that point, Xander was spinning around with a panicked look on his face. “Everyone get down!” he bellowed.
**********
Joseph spun around at the sound of the gunshot, looking angry enough to chew glass, and Aaron quailed beneath the heated force of the older vampire's incensed glare. He'd nearly dropped the rifle when it had fired, startled by both the gunshot itself, and the surprising force of the weapon's recoil.
“You effing little turd!” Joseph snarled through a mouth now filled with jagged, murderously sharp fangs. His gaze promised there would be a bloody reckoning later, and Aaron shuddered at the thought. Seeming obscenely pleased with the fledgling vampire's openly obvious terror, Joseph raked his sharp gaze down the line of his underlings and scowled thunderously.
“Don't just stand there, you pack of bloody tossers!” he roared. “Fire!”
Hastily, the other vampires belatedly remembered their purpose there and turned to face the house at 1630 Revello Drive. A ragged line of muzzles rose; ugly, impersonal death standing to attention, as each rifle was pulled into a shoulder with varying degrees of competence. Without pause or ceremony, they spat fire, and the distinctive chatter of AK-47's filled the once quiet night air.
**********
Later, when the adrenaline and anxiety of the moment had passed, Tara thought they way in which they all reacted to Xander's warning was particularly telling. No matter what their current problems, none of the scoobies had lingered to question the reason for Xander's pronouncement; they had all faced too much danger together over the years for that.
But most telling of all was the manner in which each scooby chose to react. In line with what Xander had shouted, everyone fell to the floor true enough, but no-one fell alone.
Willow and Tara simultaneously threw each other to the floor, both of them trying to protect the person who meant the most to them. Xander quite literally crash tackled a startled Anya to the floor, while Buffy seized Dawn in bear hug and bore both of them to ground, where for good measure she performed a similar service for Giles, by the simple and direct means of sweep kicking his feet out from under him.
Even as they were hitting the ground, the front windows exploded inwards in an eruption of broken glass, a virtual hail of bullets gouging pockmarks in the far wall. Terror surged through Tara like a white water river, nearly scourging all rational thought from her mind as she realized that there had been no-one to protect Katie.
“Katie!” Tara screamed, twisting on the floor to face where she had last seen the young girl standing, dreading what she might find. That terror was mostly drowned in relief as she found Katie huddled on the floor, arms over her head to shield her from the glass fragments being showered on her from the bullet-riddled door.
“Stay down, Katie!” Willow shouted from the floor beside Tara, her voice high and nervous.
“What the devil is going on!” Giles demanded roughly as he lay on his back, too wary of the bullets hissing overhead to chance rolling over.
“Vampires!” Xander answered shrilly from where he lay atop Anya protectively. “A whole bunch of vampires! With machine guns!”
“Really!” Giles snapped angrily. “And here I was thinking they were using sling shots!”
“It's gotta be Isiah, right?” Dawn ventured, yelping as the backrest of a chair beside her burst apart beneath the force of two simultaneous 7.62mm bullet strikes. “Where are you going?” she shrieked at her sister as Buffy began speed crawling towards the lounge room.
“I need a crossbow!” Buffy yelled back as she kept moving. “Wait until they're reloading, then get out of here! I'll hold them off!”
“Not bloody well alone, you aren't!” Giles countered, taking his chances with rolling over so that he could follow her.
“Buffy! They have machine guns!” Anya shouted after them as both Slayer and Watcher disappeared into the living room. “You have what amounts to toothpicks and a rubber band! It's suicide!”
“Will!” Xander called out hopefully. “Can you raise a barrier thing again! Like you did with those Knights of Titanium guys?”
Knights of Byzantium, Willow thought to herself, automatically correcting Xander's mistake even as she felt the desire to kiss him in gratitude. “I can try!” she yelled back, then turned her attention to Tara. The fear she found on Tara's face caused her own terror to be displaced by self-righteous rage.
How dare they scare my baby like this!“Tara?” Willow called softly, and she saw the blonde's fear lessen slightly as Tara twisted to face her. “Help me?”
Tara immediately held out a trembling hand, and Willow grasped it in her own. But even as they each took a shuddering breath to sooth their nerves, a sudden eerie silence descended on the house, broken only by rapid, shallow breathing, and the occasional jarring sound as a fragment of glass fell and shattered.
“What's going on?” demanded Buffy's voice from the living room. “Are they reloading?”
“That was quick, Will!” Xander said gratefully, not noticing the alarmed look passing between Willow and Tara. “Good to see you haven't lost your touch.”
“We didn't ...” Willow began anxiously, gnawing on her lower lip. “I don't ... Tara, did you?” Tara shook her head, her brow furrowed in consternation.
“What's up?” hissed Buffy as she scurried back in, a crossbow and a handful of quarrels in her hands, Giles similarly armed and following closely in her footsteps. “Did they leave or something?”
“Why couldn't we hear them?” Willow suddenly blurted, drawing everyone's eyes onto her. “We heard the first gunshot .... but did anyone else hear any others after it?”
**********
Aaron let out an ear-splitting whoop as he fired another burst at the house of this so-called 'slayer'. He was starting to get the hang of it now, and most of the bullets he fired were now at least going in vaguely the right direction.
This was what he had always wanted; what he had played all of those games for, to achieve but a poor facsimile of what he now possessed. The power of life and death, in his hands.
All those people in High School who laughed at me, called me a geek and a spaz. If they could see me now, they'd know how wrong they were. And they will. I'll find them, and I'll hurt them and then I'll eat them.The bolt of his assault rifle fell on an empty chamber, the magazine spent, and Aaron pouted. He didn't want to worry about stupid little details like reloading.
Why can't there be a cheat or something to give me unlimited ammo, he thought petulantly to himself.
They have them in the games!A frown crept across Aaron's face, and he glared at the house that was the focus of all the vampire's fury.
Is it just me ... or are none of our bullets hitting it anymore?Aaron turned to inform Joseph of what he'd noticed, but as he did so he caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye, rushing towards them with an awkward gait from out of a darkness so thick and liquid that it almost seemed alive.
A single eye in that gaunt, pallid face burned a unnatural, crystalline blue, blazing with an unconstrained malevolence that shriveled Aaron's genitals in fear. Aaron tried to do two things at once; he opened his mouth to let loose a panicked squeal, and he wet himself.
Then came the incandescent lightning bolt that burned a foot-wide hole in Aaron's chest and vaporized his unbeating heart in his chest, and Aaron worried no more than any other pile of dust.
**********
I would have preferred to have been closer when I first struck, but I knew when that scrawny, zit-faced bastard caught sight of me that plan went right out the window. A quiet corner of my mind, one not caught up in tactical considerations or the sheer visceral thrill of combat mused on the fate of the vampire I had just slain.
How unfortunate was it for him that he still had acne even when he wore the face of the beast? Mayhap I did him a favor?The remaining vampires were starting to react now, and I quickened my pace to the edges of my limits. If my knee would have bent properly, I could have moved faster, but that particular pool of spilt milk had long since turned rancid and fostered an entire civilization of bacteria, so there was no point dwelling on it.
Even as as I fell upon them like a cat amongst the pigeons, I marked their reactions. Most of them were rank amateurs, though with the advantage of numbers and automatic weapons both, they could be deadly if I misstepped. But there was one who acted like a veteran; calmly, coolly, already drawing a sidearm and circling, trying to flank me.
He could be more troublesome.The fingers of my skeletal hand were tipped with six-inch talons, the bone mystically reforged into razor-sharp blades, and I slashed them through the neck of the nearest vampire, neatly beheading him. Darting through the newly made hole in their ranks, I kept going, flinging a fireball backwards blindly with each hand as I went. The crackle of flames, and a short-lived, horrible scream told me at least one had found its mark.
Hit and run, I thought to myself, spinning glamor like a spider as I ran.
To be still is to die.I darted sideways as I vanished from their sight, and a volley of bullets tore through the air were I had been just moments before. Still more glamor I wove, and shadowed illusions of me scattered in multiple directions.
An outcry arose from the cluster of vampires, and they began firing in all directions. I spared a brief moments thought for the people in the surrounding houses; hopefully they would have had the good sense to stay down, for I couldn't afford to waste the power that would be needed to shield all of the houses the way I was doing for the witches. The field of silence I was maintaining around this battleground was taxing enough, but I didn't want the Sunnydale PD getting involved. They'd only get in the way, and like as not, would just try and shoot me as well.
I hate getting shot, I mused as I came in for a second run. Of course, Mr Murphy being the prick that he is, that's exactly what happened. Agonizing pain slithered through me as a bullet tore a red-hot path through my right bicep.
Long ago, I had learned to use the pain, to feed it as fuel to the furnace of my rage, and I did so now, even as the wound tingled in a familiar manner. The magics coursing through every fiber of my being were even know re-kniting my torn flesh, and in a few moments, I should be good as new. Or, at least as good I was before.
Then I was amidst them once again, as cold and merciless as the savagery of a hard winter's blizzard.
**********
“It's Nameless,” Tara intoned, torn between awe and despair as she watched the warlock tear a brutal swathe through the vampires. The carnage was no less distressing for the fact that they couldn't hear any of it. An audio component wasn't necessary when the visual was so very ... graphic.
The scoobies were peering over the nearest window sill overlooking the street, being careful to keep low. None of them could be sure what had stopped the vampire's fusillade, though they had their suspicions, and they couldn't be sure how long that protection would last.
“Great,” Xander sourly announced, “Is that good news or bad?”
“Both?” Dawn offered, looking sickened as a slash of Nameless' claws left a squealing vampire on it's knees, intestines spilling from a gash running the length of his torso to lie in a steaming heap between his feet. “You fought that?” she asked Buffy disbelievingly.
“Hey, I fought a Hellgod too, remember?” complained Buffy.
“I don't think Glory ever really tried to kill you, Buffy,” Dawn countered, turning away from the window looking decidedly green in the face. “Not until the end, when it was too late.”
“But I still ended up dead, didn't I?” Buffy weakly quipped, and her sister whipped around furiously to glare at her.
“You'd better not do that again,” she demanded. “Or I will
so kick your ass.”
“Um ... Buffy?” Willow asked hesitantly. “Didn't you say you cut off one of his hands?”
“Yeah, I ... damn it! He grew it back?”
**********
I had taken two more bullet wounds by now, one in the left shoulder and another had ricocheted off my ribs, cracking two in the process. With each breath, it felt as if molten fire was trickling down my lungs. Every movement of my left arm sent agony screaming down my nerves, but I still kept moving. This pain would be fleeting compared to that which drove me.
Three left, including the veteran. I feinted towards the first vampire, a slender, dark haired woman, and she recoiled, convulsively pulling the trigger of her empty rifle, but I spun away and back-handed the second hard enough to split open his cheek and snap his neck. Seizing him by the neck, I swung the vampire around in time for him to catch a flurry of bullets from the veteran instead of me.
Grabbing my spasmodically twitching captive by the belt with my free hand, I hefted him above my head and hurled the vampire at the veteran. They went down together with a flurry of curses, and I turned my attention to the female.
Baring her fangs, the vampire charged me, swinging her empty weapon like a club.
At least this one shows some spirit. I met the vampire's charge head on, a grin of savage, exultant glee on my mutilated face. I ducked under her first wild swing, lashing out with my boneshifted claws, ripping open her stomach, reaching behind her knee and hamstringing her.
There was almost as much rage in her voice as there was pain as the vampire staggered back, and I heartily approved. For a leech, I almost found myself liking her.
Can't have that, now can we? I closed with her again, drops of her stolen blood pattering to the pavement from the tips of my claws.
**********
“Mommy?” Katie whispered painfully, and Tara's head snapped to face her. She found Katie's gaze locked upon the vampire that a gore splattered Nameless was currently stalking.
“What?” Tara gasped, her heart twisting sympathetically in her chest. Tara heard the breath catch painfully in Willow's throat on the other side of her.
“He's killing my Mommy,” Katie continued, her voice so raw it should have been an open wound.
“Katie ... oh Goddess, no sweetie ...”
Even now, Katie wouldn't turn away, even as Tara pulled her tight against herself. “It's okay,” Katie muttered. “It's not her. It's the bad thing that ... took her away. I ... will it hurt? When he kills it?”
“Don't look, Katie,” Tara urged, trying to gently turn the child's head away, but Katie stubbornly refused.
“I have to,” she explained softly. “I have to see it. I have to know.”
Neither Tara nor Willow knew what to say.
**********
The dark haired woman was desperate now, making wide, reckless swings with her makeshift club, trying to keep me at a distance.
As if that would make a difference. On her last swing, I darted in swiftly, trapping her arm by seizing her wrist with my good hand. My skeletal hand slammed her in the forehead, and I growled a single word to activate one of the many curses I had imprinted into the bones.
She shrieked in agony as a sharp-edged rune burned itself into the skin of her forehead, and she lurched backwards, flailing wildly as if trying to fend off a swarm of insects only she could see. The vampire screamed again as the curse's effects began to spread. Blood began to trickle from her eyes, ears and nose, and she fell twitching to the floor.
Soon, her blood would begin to boil in her veins, and her eyes would rupture and spill in their sockets until finally, she would spontaneously combust from the inside out. She would be dead again in a matter of moments, and this time, it would be the kind of death that stuck. Either way, she posed no threat now, which left me free to deal with the final two.
Conjuring a fireball in one hand, I hurl it at where the two vampires still lie tangled together, but the veteran was playing possum, and hurled his crippled compatriot into the fireball's path. He scrambled to his feet, pistol desperately tracking me as I charged at him in a random, zigzag pattern, but even now, he obstinately refused to show any trace of fear.
Part of me wanted to reward him for his bravery with a quick death, but mostly I just wanted to educate him as to the folly of his ways. The veteran fires once, twice, but each time I duck or spin out of the bullets path, and then I was on him.
I slapped the gun out of his hand, and several of the vampire's fingers joined the weapon as it clattered to the street. He retaliated with a punch to the head that rocked my head back, and he pressed forward, assuming that he had me on the back foot. He assumed wrongly.
My skeletal right hand darted out and grabbed him around the throat in an iron grip; it wasn't as if he needed to breath but it was a convenient place to grab the troublesome wretch. The vampire kicked me in the chest as I hoisted him in the air, and even though he couldn't gain much momentum, it still staggered me.
That's enough of that, you bastard.Bunching my taloned fingers into a wedge, I rammed it into the leech's stomach, piercing the tender flesh and driving deep until my entire hand was buried inside him. The vampire was screaming now, and howling insults and threats at me, but I wasn't especially interested. I knew it hurt already, so I just tuned him out.
But I wasn't inflicting pain just for the sheer hell of it. I might be a cruel bastard, but only when I had reason to be. Here, I just wanted to make him a little more pliable, so that I could interrogate him. To do that, what I did was sever his spine at the waist. I'd allow, going after the spine through the width of his body was a tad ... gratuitous, but I was irritated.
I really don't like being shot.**********
A hundred yards away, a vampire named Grady sat wedged into the fork of a tree, one eye nestled into the eyepiece of a telescopic sight attached to a bolt-action rifle. Grady had watched the entire fight so far, but Nameless had been moving too fast and erratically in the heat of combat for him to get a good shot.
But now that he was standing still, with one hand buried to the wrist in Joseph's entrails, Grady had his chance. And he meant to take it.
The cross hairs of Grady's rifle settled square on the center of Nameless' head, and Grady ceased breathing all together. He wasn't about to let anything spoil this shot. If he pulled this off, the Captain would give him his hearts desire.
Grady gently squeezed the trigger.
**********
A gunshot rang out, sharp and unnatural against what Tara could only imagine was a magically enforced silence, and Nameless staggered backwards in a spray of crimson.
“No!” screamed Katie as the warlock fell.
**********
The bullet caught me in the throat, tearing through flesh toughened and numbed already by scar tissue in a welter of blood. There was strangely little pain, and before I knew what was happening I found myself on my back.
The veteran was silently scrabbling at my face, trying to gouge out my eyes. He wouldn't be talking any time soon; as I had fell my hand had closed convulsively and crushed his entire trachea.
I guess I'm not asking him any questions any time soon, damn it. And on an even more irritating point, someone fucking well shot me again!I could feel the blood pulsing out of me, pooling on the ground beneath me, and I knew I had to act fast. It felt like the damnable bullet had blown open a vein or artery, so I couldn't rely on the magic alone to heal me; it could, and would, given time. But I doubted I had time. Whichever bastard shot me will likely want to finish the job.
I activated another spell woven into my hand-construct with a thought. Thankfully it wasn't voice activated; with the amount of blood welling and frothing up from my mouth I doubted I'd able to achieve the proper pronunciation required.
It was a spell that I rarely used, for it left a sour taste in my mouth. There were some spells too dark even for me to use lightly. But I needed to be in fighting condition again, and swiftly, before that cowardly sniper realized that he'd botched a kill shot.
A faint gurgling arose from the veteran's throat as the spell wormed its way serpent-like into his body. I had never experienced the spells effects from the other side, but I have been told that the sensation is akin to having something, some undefined, ethereal substance that makes you feel alive be sucked out of you as if by a vacuum cleaner. I imagine that having the life force drained from you might feel somewhat as if you were being hollowed out, even for a vampire. Being undead simply meant that I was stealing the life force he had stolen in turn.
The visual effect is no less dramatic. The flesh withered and grows spare, the skin tightens like a drum, the hair grows brittle and coarse. In the end, the vampire looked as if he had been mummified, up to the point where his form grew so brittle that he broke apart and collapsed into a pile of ash.
And I sat up, as hale and hearty as I ever was these days.
**********
Shit! thought Grady as his target sat back up,
I missed the shot!Grady lowered his rifle, hurriedly worked the bolt, ejecting the spent round and jacking another into the chamber. Jerking his weapon back into his shoulder, Grady peered though his sight once more.
He found Nameless pointing at him, and the warlock snapped his fingers.
**********
The friction of my fingers served as the catalyst for the spark that ignited the tree, wreathing both it, and the vampire hiding in it leaping flames. The summoned inferno burned bright and fast, and within seconds the tree was little more than a charred trunk. There was nothing left of the vampire whatsoever.
Triumph soared through me, tempered with bitter disappointment. Yes, I had thwarted the vampires attack on my witches and the others, but I was no closer to finding where Isiah hid from me. As such, another attack could not be far off.
So I wore a thunderous scowl as I levered myself awkwardly to my feet.
Where are you, little leech? Where do you hide?**********
“Giles?” Buffy intently asked, her voice focused and taut as the Slayer sighted down her crossbow, a charged question hidden inside that single word
Giles looked haunted, but while it was quiet there was no trace of hesitation in his voice as he gave Buffy his answer. “We may never get another chance. Do it.”
“What are you talking about ...” Willow began, perplexed.
Buffy fired.
**********
I hadn't expected another attack, especially from that direction. I shouldn't have been surprised; they had just watched me tear through eleven vampires like a hot knife through butter. It was only to be expected that they would begin to better understand how much of a threat I could pose to them.
Had Buffy had a gun instead of a crossbow, for I had no doubt it had been the Slayer who had fired, I likely would have died. As it was, the buzz of the quarrel's fletching as it spun through the air was sufficient to give me a fraction of a seconds warning, enough time for me to get my left hand between the speeding crossbow bolt and my head.
The quarrel punched through my hand with enough force to splinter bones, driving my hand backwards, the razor-edged broadhead slicing through my cheek and scrapping to a halt against my teeth.
Wrenching my pinned hand away ripped a ragged wound in my cheek, so that blood sheeted down the left side of my face, but I was too incensed to care at the moment. I rounded on the Slayer's house, murder in my eyes.
**********
“I think you might have pissed him off, Buff,” Xander announced weakly, backing away from the window slowly as Buffy slotted another bolt into her crossbow with practiced ease.
“I want you guys to go out the back and get the hell out of here,” Buffy barked insistently, leveling her crossbow again.
“Buffy, no!” Dawn pleaded, but her sister just pushed her back and wouldn't even look at her.
“What is it with you and my hands, Slayer?”
They all froze at the sound of that ghastly, rasping whisper as it sounded in the room as clearly as if Nameless were standing amongst them, rather than from the middle of the street outside.
“The police are coming,” continued the warlock casually. “I can hear the sirens on the breeze.”
The scoobies all exchanged looks, but shook their heads. None of them could hear sirens as yet.
“I'll clean up the mess outside, and conceal the damage to your house with a temporary illusion, but you'd better put Zeppo-boy to work. It won't last forever.”
As they stared out the window in bewilderment, Nameless gestured and all traces of blood, dropped rifles and shell casings simply vanished. Even from this distance, they could see that the gaze Nameless directed at them was harsh and bitter.
“Oh, and you're welcome,” Nameless snarled, making an obscene gesture in their direction before he vanished without a trace into the cool night air.
To be continued ....
That’s right: In order to make this event LESS popular, the female activists take off their tops and jog in front of onlookers. - Scott Adams, regarding the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.
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Can't wait for the next update!!!
You haven't tapped my brain, have you? What am I visualizing right now? ... Well, I haven't been slapped, so I guess I'm imagining things.
Okaaay, then. Well, you can certainly say that if you wish, I'm certainly not going to complain. 
Lemme know if you want any playing tips and I'll pm you some. Some free advise though : the computer uses dirty tricks... but it uses the same dirty tricks. 
I say you've really outdone yourself with this part, Paul. Great mixture of humor, romance, mystery and extreme violence. 
Well I was on a hurry but I would swear I did it. Might dream it (My mind works that way, wandering all the time).
Have fun when the underground beings. You can even become their master 
Wow, I was thinking that day will never come.
Mwuahahah. Oh, btw, could you pursuade Nameless to come over to Holland melt the brains of our cabinet of ministers? Uh, come to think of it, never mind. I don't think anyone would notice the difference.
) but I have to go to work, so it won't be up until sometime this afternoon (my time, that is).
about Gamberra. Very appropriate indeed, but Canberra's full of politicians. Demons I'd quite happily rule over, but pollies? 