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Part 4 Kittens... thanks for all the feedback so far.-------
Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Backstep Part III (Somehow Part 4 overall – just to confuse things.)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: What Tara was doing during the time of “The Wish” in this reality – to move the story along – a gap of nearly two years from the last part. Last of the Backstep’s showing how the variant realities of this alternate universe came together to affect those involved. This is set at the time of the conclusion of the BTVS episode “The Wish.” This is of course (in that reality) also the time of the very end of “Dopplegangland” when Vamp Willow is sent back to that point in time and space. Just don’t me to explain all the inconsistencies in the causality.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: None at this point but time is moving on... Dreams are still occurring.
Notes: The transcripts of “The Wish” and “Dopplegangland” were used for a scene in this fic. This helped me get the sequence of events in that scene in order and integrated between the two episodes. All credit in this respect is due to the transcribers and the original writers of the episodes.
Thanks To: The spoiler free… all of us trying to figure out how to wear a badge whilst naked, bouncing and covered in oil. With cheesecake. Kerry, Jo and Louise.
The Sidestep Chronicle
Backstep Part III By Katharyn Rosser
Chicago – Illinois Chicago. Still Chicago. She still hadn’t managed to find her way out of this city nearly four months after realising it was time to go. Time to move on. It was as easy, of course, as getting on a bus – yet every time she resolved to do just that something else happened that stopped her from making it to the station. Maybe she was forced to invest in some expensive spell ingredients. Maybe her shoes fell apart and she needed to spend her hard won money on new ones. Sometimes it was a chance to learn something, new spells, new skills. New methods of finding and killing the vampires. Maybe it was other things. But there was always something that stopped her. It was always the same. She knew the danger of staying still too long, but she got comfortable in a place. It started to seem like home – even though she didn’t have much of one anymore. Just an empty farmhouse that no one wanted to buy. At least last time she had checked. This time it was vampires that had held her here and her conscience refused to let her go. It threatened her, telling her that if she left then every death after that would be on her hands. Her conscience didn’t need to get a new threat… that one was enough. It always worked. There was a nest of them. Well organised, well defended. Security conscious too. A real prize winning set-up. As good as she had ever seen used by vampires. They were organised. They were careful. They were damn near civilized. As civilized as the beasts could be anyway. At heart they were all monsters and as such she had to kill them all. The monsters always died at the end of the story. Civilized or not. And if you defined the test of “civilized” as the use of human apparatus against itself then they were definitely so. Some humans could be monsters too. Some even as bad as the real ones. The vampires were laired on a whole floor of an apartment complex. Living in individual apartments, nicely decorated and maintained as far as she could tell. She’d never seen anything quite like it. Human security guards patrolled the out-of-town site, protecting all the residents. Guards of the sort who were not above some random physical brutality to young, rain bedraggled, women who they caught within the complex grounds by using some very hi-tech equipment that should have been far beyond a small company’s means. Nothing serious, she had suffered much worse by accident, but bad enough to bruise and still ache, enough for her to gauge their professionalism and their dedication. More than enough to for her to acquire a few personal items in the scuffle. Just in case she needed an edge. That wasn’t a place she wanted to go again. The dark place. The dark magics called to her, whispered really and she knew its effects only too well. Effects that she didn’t want to risk again. But if it was that or her life? She didn’t know which she would choose. Maybe a long hot bath would have eased her pains but she hadn’t seen a bath in weeks. She slept inside her old Pink Ranger sleeping bag on a discarded mattress hidden in the basement of a building now inhabited at night by the city’s homeless. She had cleaned out the vampires that preyed upon them and they ensured that she could sleep safely during the day. It was an arrangement that suited both sides and she found herself liking some of those men, women and even children. Found herself trying to help them more when she could. And in return they let her sleep. When she could sleep a full night. The dreams were still coming to her. Sometimes the guilty dreams, sometimes the weird… but oh so much more often featuring that woman she had come to regard as her red haired goddess. They had been building recently in both intensity and number and her carving… it was taking on a definite shape. Since that night two years ago on her uncle’s porch she had not laid a finger or a blade on it other than to carry it around. Yet it was being honed, shaped and worked as if by a craftsman. She would awake and there would be a few more little changes if she had dreamed of the red haired woman. Sometimes, if she had forgotten her dreams she would know their contents just by the fact that there would be wood shavings at the base of the piece of wood, where it rested by her mattress. It worried her. But carved pieces of wood… there were scarier things to worry about than that. The real world had to come first. The human guards were easiest to bypass at night, of course, when their senses were less attuned to their surroundings. But then other, less natural senses, were at work in the complex. The vampires did not rely on human security alone. They too were out there. She had dusted two already just to get to here, to observe them and plan her movements. Young and foolish if she was any judge. And she liked to think she was by now. Probably residents here who were drained a little too far to survive – so they had been turned and now were used as security. Strong and fast as all vampires were, but inexperienced and definitely foolish. They should recognise that no matter how young and innocent she might look, especially soaked to the skin in her long skirts; if she had a stake with her then she was a threat. They actually thought they could feed on her. She’d checked the stats at the library – and it was a good library in this city. This area had the lowest crime rate of any borough outside the city. That was always a pointer. Random street crime fell away when vamps were around. It was how they always operated. Street crime kept fresh blood out of the neighbourhood which wouldn’t do from them. Actually here crime had fallen in all categories - including missing persons and violent crimes. Murder too. They were all low but something had told her when she saw those figures that she had not made a mistake. It wasn't just good policing. At least not by the actual police force anyway. It had confused her for a little while. Until she had got inside the complex. The residents, the human residents, knew exactly what they were living with. They even welcomed it. They willingly fed it and eventually either by accident or design they were turned. It was, Tara had to admit, a wonderful set up for the blood suckers. Ready, willing, meals on tap. Reinforcements as required. Those humans she had observed seemed to take some perverse pleasure from the act of sating the vampires blood lust and in return they received absolute security for themselves and their possessions as well as the promise – as they saw it – of eternal life. As she saw it though - eternal damnation. She had been tempted to burn the whole place to the ground. The temptation didn’t last long though. It never really did. That sort of bad thing just flashed in her mind then was dismissed quickly – but not as quickly as it would have been once. It was not who she was. It was not something that she could seriously contemplate. Even though a human that could submit to something like that with vampires – well that person was no longer human as far as she was concerned – but she still had an absolute determination never to kill anyone that was human. Perhaps in this sort of case though, the dark whispered to her, that should not apply so strictly. She could ignore the whispers, but they were still there. Once she had been absolutely certain she would never violate the promise she had made to herself. Now she was getting more and more afraid that she would. That was not what magic was for. She might have done it… if she had cared less, she might. It was definitely less important to her now than it had been. She knew that she could have done it. She would have regretted it later, asked herself what she had done, perhaps fallen into a guilty depression that could have got her killed. She could have… But she hadn’t done it. Wouldn’t. After all there were children in there too. Total innocents. And even if she could have found a way to save the children from her righteous flames of justice, then she would not have taken their parents from them. There had always to be some other way than that. They could end up growing up like her, as she had been forced to, being left alone – that she did not wish on anyone. So instead, and as usual, she was being far more surgical and putting herself at far more risk. She always was. Every time it was like this. She thought about doing it the easy way, burning a vampire nest to the ground and knew that it would be easy. And yet every time there was some reason not to do it like that. There were people inside, nearby. The fire might spread. The buildings were old. There were artworks inside that people should be able to see. Pets. Once she even caught herself being concerned about a stick-insect collection. Dogs, cats yeah… but that. That was just an excuse. That wasn’t why. As much as she wanted to avoid killing anyone who was human, what she really wanted was to deliver her justice in person. To see their faces before they collapsed in a pile of dust at her feet - to be scattered to the four winds. There was that instant between the stake piercing their hearts and their desiccation. It was an instant in which they saw her as she really was and she liked to think they knew why she was killing them. Not just that they were evil things, or that she was saving her own life. She liked to think they knew how she had been hurt and what part their destruction had in making that better. It was the only thing that made it all worthwhile. The only thing that made it feel as if she was really accomplishing something. Anything at all. It didn’t reduce the pain, the loss and the injustice but it did numb it. Just for a little while. About as long as it took her to realise that it was helping. Then it all came back and she needed to do more. And more… But she wouldn’t hurry… she wouldn’t risk herself through impatience. Two nights of visual observation and a further one where she had tested her ability to get into the complex had shown her what she was up against. Last night she had allowed herself to be caught on her way out, pretending to be a student from the local college on a dare. Just to get the last touches – but ready in case they tried to deliver her to the bloodsuckers. She had long since learnt not to go in “half-cocked” as Daddy would have put it. The human guards relied on their technology and not-at-all random patrols. Knowing that they were easy enough to avoid. Pressure pads held no fear for one who would need not touch the floor after sensing the electrical disturbance of their power source. Cameras had been harder to fool until, some time ago, she had realised that you didn’t have to fool the camera or even get around it – just fool the person who was watching it. Anyone who spent long enough staring at static images got them ingrained in their minds. And once there, it was easy enough to ensure that was all that they saw. In fact it was just human nature – knowing and understanding that nature was a valuable tool. One she hadn’t possessed for a long time after leaving home for this life. Until it had come to her… a lot of humans are as bad as the vampires. That was what human nature was. And here she was outside the last of the vampire’s apartments on the ground floor of the block. She’d wondered at that location at first, these vampires seemed to value the veneer of civilization and appearing to live as rich, well to do humans, why not the top floor, the penthouses? Some of their art was probably worth more than her family’s whole farm. Art. She had been interested once. How long had it been since she had looked at artwork for it’s own sake? As a thing of beauty rather than just an indication of her targets lifestyle? Far too long. Maybe she should head to some of the galleries before she got out of Chicago. Try to find something to interest her aside from her whittling and sometimes cartoons if there was a TV she could watch. The funny thing was that she knew that she was sinking… and it did scare her, but it was just that she had no idea what it was that she was lacking. Apart from family, friends. An education. Interests. Anything besides the justice and survival it required in fact. What else was missing from her life? They were thinking, these vampires, as she had been forced to do. By taking the ground floor they were maximising their options for escape, minimising their risks. Whilst she could get to them more easily they had, in theory, guards to protect them. The advantages far outweighed that risk. Less direct sunlight in the seemingly less desirable apartments – just in case the curtains should be opened. Less distance to fall should a window escape be necessary. Near instant access to the pool in case of immolation. And control of the food supply’s methods of exit. Well thought out. And of course that left the humans to occupy the more expensive apartments, so there was no envy or jealousy to interfere with the arrangement – the humans might even believe that they were in charge. Who cared what they thought? Not her, likely not the vampires either. All they cared about was the blood. All she cared about was wiping them out. All of them. But not at any price. You had to have a focus as precise and pure as theirs to fight them properly. She really believed that. But there were things she would not do… unlike them. All the vampires’ careful planning had not helped them though. The four she had already surprised in their apartments were destroyed, each without a struggle.’ Three had not even known she was there, the fourth had seen her but was quickly and effectively immobilised by a couple of inches of levitation, staked before it could even realise why it could not launch itself at her. Before it could think to raise any alarm. Simplicity was the way to go. Always simplicity and not just because it was more effective. Simplicity was crucial in magic. The magic was not intended for this life of hers and she couldn’t afford to go near the more powerful spells… or to use it casually – only when she really had to do so. There had to be control. There had to be limits. This last one would be trickier. There was a human in there with it, she had seen the man go in there earlier when she was preparing her own entry to the apartments. That was why she had left this one for last. Humans complicated things. Obviously the man knew what the female vampire was so she didn’t need to protect him from that knowledge. Equally as obvious, from the sounds emerging from the room, was that he didn’t care, and was, in fact was enamoured of the beast. She didn’t want to have to hurt him – though she was always tempted when she came across this sort of perversion... but it took all sorts. People had desires. She didn’t have to like them and she wouldn’t tolerate the vampire. But the human… he didn’t deserve to be hurt just for expressing those desires. She was more and more tempted every time she came across ‘humans’ collaborating with her enemy. Or worse. But temptation was pushed aside in the clarity of justice. She moved soundlessly through the vampire’s hallway, the door having surrendered to her recently acquired skills with a lock pick. She was impressed that she had managed that. Her first time trying alone… on the hunt too. Guess that kid, Tanya, had been a good teacher. It was a terrible thing that had happened to her shortly afterwards… but Tara had warned her about the deserted factory and what lurked in there. Only a few days now since she had cleared that ground in memory of her young teacher and left a few flowers. The lack of sound was not because she light footed, but rather because her feet were not even touching the ground. Generating a slight “thickened” cushion beneath herself was less of a strain than the waste of outright levitation would have been and to any observer or recording device it would appear that she was still walking but it was absolutely silent. She even held her breath. If she could have stopped her heart then she would have done that too. They had terrifically attuned senses in the main. But it was not necessary here. Even the vampire’s senses must have been drowned out… the pounding of another, closer, heartbeat. The breathing. The noises of their indecent passion. The distraction worked in her favour and it disgusted her. How…? With a vampire? The sounds grew louder as she approached the bedroom. Their occupation was clear enough. She remained still in the doorway, a stake in her hand. Unnoticed by the vampire bitch rutting with the human male. Aesthetically Tara had to admit that the vampire stunning… most vampires struck humans that way. Unless they had been truly pitiful specimens even as a human. They gained something in their deaths – even as they lost everything else. Or perhaps it was on their return. A charisma. An aura of eternity. They believed that they would live forever. That nothing could touch them. It gave them confidence, sexual magnetism… maybe it was the same thing though. Either way she could only see truth behind the lies. And knew that she lacked those qualities herself. It was also irrelevant. She was about to snatch back eternity from this vampire. This was what they did to her… they made her think bad things. Intolerant things… insults. Her hatred was overwhelming her desire to see justice done. When had she ever called anyone a bitch? Other than a vampire? They had changed her. The years hunting them had. She was forced to wait a few moments there as she could not get at the vampire yet without risking injury to the man, unwilling to close with them and simply drive the stake into the vampire. She wasn't good at the whole physical fighting thing and the risks in confined quarters were too great. Nor could she stop watching… she needed to be ready when the chance came. That opportunity did not present itself for several more disgusting minutes. Minutes that she could have well done without. Knowing what it was… how could he? It couldn’t be love… it must simply be the power of his lusts. She shuddered. Though she remained ready to act if she was noticed, they did not sense her; they were too wrapped up in their transaction – until the vampire was ready to be paid. As the female bloodsucker reared up, now revealing her vampire visage and baring her fangs Tara let fly the stake that she had carved in the bushes outside two nights ago as she had watched them. She had been waiting for them all to return to their lair so she could get an accurate count and the whittling action, as always, soothed her. Now the weapon flew from her outstretched palm unerringly towards its target – but they shifted and the stake buried itself in the headboard, diverted from the man’s skull only by a last desperate thrust of Tara’s mind. The vampire’s head swung around, eyes yellow and shining in the dim light and uncaring of its nudity it flung itself off the bed and pounced in one bound from landing on all fours towards the intruder, flying towards Tara with unnatural strength in a long, low arc. There was nowhere to go, the hallway was narrow, and she couldn’t dodge. Nor was there time to use mystical effects to divert the enraged bloodsucker. Tara stood ready, braced herself as the vampire, all teeth and talon like nails, impacted her stomach. She tried to absorb the blow, rolling backwards, but was winded and gasping for breath as she found the naked harpy atop her, laughing and preparing itself for a different meal… one that it would not have to release before it was fully drained. If it had bitten her then – it might have been that way. She might have died. But the confidence that suffused all vampires was this one’s undoing too. It didn’t know what she was – but it should have guessed just from her being here and trying to kill it. The vampire twisted its head to look at the human who was coming up behind them, smiling obscenely and Tara was disgusted to see that he returned her leer and was still clearly aroused as the vampire fumbled with Tara’s skirt. This might be the first time that they had “enjoyed company.” But if they thought that they would have their fun with her then it would be the last mistake they ever made. If their positions had been reversed Tara would have made the kill immediately. No hesitation. No thoughts of fun. But the vampire was just… typical. It thought it was immortal. She was going to show it that it was wrong. They did not know what she was capable of, they probably assumed that she had thrown the stake. There was an animal in both of them though. The instant, though, that the vampire had given her allowed her to prepare her mind, to focus and with the slightest mumble under her breath to thrust the vampire from her back against the man, both of them falling to the floor in a tangled heap. The push drained her, working at such close quarters, that level of power and in desperation it always did. It was always much better to prepare for that sort of power. Her head would hurt a little later perhaps. But at least it would still be her head and she had avoided using any of the dark power once more. The intention… the intention was pure and the spells were not wrong in and of themselves. The line was so very fine. “Thicken” Tara commanded the element of air to prevent their escape or further attack and reached into her jacket pocket for her second stake. She knelt above the sprawling, naked pair and prepared to plunge the stake into the immobilised vampire’s heart. The stake descended and just as it pierced the flesh of the vampire… stopped. Dead. Maybe a millimetre from the heart as… something exploded in her inner vision. Like a world unravelling and revealing itself. --------------
Sunnydale – California The Master was not going to be pleased and that might mean no playtime for a while. But then the puppy was dust anyway and that made her mad. Such delicious playtimes with that puppy and someone else had staked him instead of her. Someone that would pay, when the time came. As a new puppy perhaps. Not so much fun without a soul to torture, but pure physical pain… that could be fun too. Maybe not for as long. She wasn't sure if anyone could take it for as long as the puppy had. Obviously it was a slayer. The Slayer. There was bound to be a capital letter on there. Scary oooh… young girl perhaps as old as she would have been had she not been preserved… with a pointy stick. There would soon be a new one though. A new Slayer. Between herself, Xander and the Master, who was still holding himself aloof from the battle, Willow knew that there was no chance that the Slayer would escape. Or even live. That might have been fun too; to have her chained for playtime. They said that the Slayer’s blood was a powerful aphrodisiac... Not that Willow needed any help expressing her desires… but to keep her alive and to take a sip or two every night. No they would have to kill her. She sighed. But for the scar she looked… yummy. Would the new one be as delightfully powerful? Would she come here? Will I get a chance to play with her too? Maybe we should get some stronger chains… just in case. She batted aside the suddenly bold human who was interfering with her view of the unfolding conflict, contemptuous of them all. The Master had spent years whittling away at the humans’ spirit and all of a sudden the food had found a backbone? She would have to rip that spine from them. Mmmmn… Xander was going after the Slayer or the other way round. This would be worth seeing… Xander was a marvellous killer. Artistic and stronger than she was though perhaps a little less original. Not as quick and graceful as Willow herself either though. But she realised that this didn’t call for artistry. Xander seemed to have grasped that too. He went for brute force, gambling on knocking that slayer bitch down in one blow. The swing at the great mortal hope was a world away from connecting and Willow knew that he was outclassed even at that early moment. He’d never fought anything like her. In Sunnydale you didn’t have to. He was wide-open and unguarded and Willow could see what was coming. The swing of the stake before it even started in its arc. She could sense where it was going to connect with him. She knew that he was going to be destroyed by that bitch. But strangely it was fascinating to see it coming. Exciting even… and she didn’t attempt to interfere then. Too far away anyway. Oh well. And it did connect. Just as she had foreseen and Xander was gone in flurry of ashes. Nothing left. And the Slayer… the oh-so-professional Slayer. She just moved on ready to kill again. But she had riled the Master now. Willow could see him looking. Felt his command to action. She could have the Slayer and if she failed to avenge Xander’s death then he would deal with it personally and that was just fine with her. That was the lovely thing about humans, they were not just undead or history as was the case with vampires – which she knew you could beat down but would soon recover. Humans, you could get them into all sorts of fun and long-lasting states in between. Crippled, begging… desperate for your sweet mercies. And the Slayer… well she would beg and not for mercy but to be allowed to die. And maybe I’ll grant her that. Willow set off towards the Slayer who was not even paying attention to her. More fool – And some human grabbed her arm. A great lump of a… White Hat. One of the White Hats. Maybe she could make time for that one first, before the Slayer. It wasn't going to be fun… but it would be damn satisfying to scratch that terrible itch they had become over the years. And you just had to scratch itches. She was going to scratch until the White Hat’s head fell off. And there was another one… not strong but determined to help his fellow. Perhaps they were involved she had heard such lovely rumours about the big one and his tendencies. She hoped that they were together… they were going to die together too and watching the pain on the other ones face would be… as good as killing the Slayer. The second one was also a White Hat… slightly built but driving her back against the wall. He had momentum but no strength. Momentum that would do them no good at all, because when she regained her stability against that wall she was going to… The pain was sharp in her back, driving forward into her chest… Oh... It was one of those moments that existed outside of time. The flare of brightness. Not light. Not colour. Just bright in her consciousness and so many things were apparent. So plain. So obvious that she had never noticed before. Suddenly the warehouse was empty, deserted. Then full of struggling figures once more. She… she had been… somewhere…else. Other than here. She had memories that seemed out of phase with where she was at that moment. Of another place. Another else. One that… wasn’t. But was. Another me… Soft. Alive. Kinda pink and deliciously edible. Pink all over? The words “Hands! Hands!” rang, echoing around her consciousness. Magic. There was magic there. And that brought her to something else… another image. Two women… struggling. And mmmn, one of them was naked… quite tasty too, but a vampire. Never mind. But the other. The… human… tinged, bathed in the aura of the living. That other… the blonde haired woman of her dreams holding a stake inside the naked vampire. Inside her. I can feel it. Tickling my heart. Such a delicious itch to scratch. Such dangerous playtime. Lovely. She had seen the blonde though before. In her dreams. Only in her dreams. Playful dreams. Mmmmmn. Lickable dreams. But she wasn't here in Sunnydale. She had looked. She knew she was not here. She had looked all over. Just in case. Want… But something told her that she would be. One day she would be here and then they would play together. She wanted to smile, but in this moment outside time she had no control over her body. And suddenly it was like déjà vu. Perhaps it would be again. Perhaps her dreams would come true… Déjà vu as she was suddenly back in the real world being propelled backwards once more by the White Hat. Been here done this. Boring. Want new things… Want to play with the blonde… Oh… she remembered where that shove had ended last time and the smile that was on her face faded as she felt that tickle against her heart once more. Such a delicious itch even from behind. ‘Aw, f-’ --------------
Chicago – Illinois Something ripped through her mind and she couldn’t move, frozen in place. The pain. She was not hurt bodily but there was pain. It wasn’t her head that hurt – not as if a spell had strained her. But there was pain. It was a pain she had not felt for so long. Not since that day in the hospital. It was her soul. She hadn’t even been sure she still had one, so little did she feel these days. For herself or anyone else, she had to doubt its survival. And the strangest memories that were not hers. Such a delicious tickle Her eyes briefly focussed on the vampire she was staking. Was it the thoughts of the vampire? No there was just terror in its face. Good. It should be afraid… She felt, though, as if something had been snatched away from her, something that she valued above everything else. Above revenge, above justice, above her mission. Or should. And it wasn't these two. They were nothing to do with her continued suffering. And though she had not seen the face this time all she could think of were her dreams. The face that had stared out of them at her. Contorted not in pain, but in surprise and then disappointment before it was gone. Hands! Hands! She felt alone, even though that was her normal state. More alone than before… as if some presence that had always been there before – even when her family were snatched from her – was… gone. She looked at the vampire, who was also frozen, no doubt in fear of it’s imminent demise and shocked herself by pulling the stake back from the blood filled wound. Stolen blood. She stood up above them and let the thick air subside and disperse. “Leave,” she told them and though the human ‘ummed’ and ‘arrghed’ about his clothes and possessions the vampire soon dragged him out of the room, closing the door behind them and she watched them from the window get in a car and leave. Quickly. She had never considered before that she inspired fear in them. Why should she have considered it? Who cared if they were afraid, happy or anything else? This was the first time she had failed to kill a vampire who was hers for the taking. Not just failed. Allowed to escape. Why? She secured the room and stripped the bed of its soiled sheets. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept in a proper bed, but she was tired and hurting… and if they had gone then why not? And if they came back…? It was hard to care. She’d just deal with them then. She couldn’t… what? What couldn’t she do? Move? Feel? Think? Live? All or none of the above? She slept, and when she woke to the tiny sounds that might have been the owner returning she realised that the dreams weren’t the same. The omnipresent carving that had been taking shape with her dreaming over such a long time… She had laid it with her knife on the table beside the bed. It remained had untouched in the night. Now the dreams… they featured only the loss of something she had never known and never had. Her red haired goddess had departed from wherever it was that she had been. She knew that… somehow she knew. She knew that the girl had been very real, not just a dream. But she also knew that she was now past tense and feeling that in her bones she couldn’t care whether the security guards or something worse came for her that night. She just needed to huddle up and embrace the pain. Because at least it was a feeling. --------------- Lilah knocked on Holland’s door only after getting the nod from his secretary, a deceptively nervous and slight man who Lilah knew to be an expert on four types of martial art and sometime bodyguard to his boss as well as having a devastating typing speed and photographic memory. That was the sort of exceptional individual that the company hired, and the Holland in particular was adept at locating. He’d recruited her hadn’t he? But she did not have good news for her mentor about her oldest project. She barely had chance any more to give the file more than a cursory glance from month to month. Reports got filed, mostly they were hum-drum, routine, this one did this. That one did that. Nothing ever seemed to happen. The project had its beginnings but still seemed as far from even starting to come together as it had that first day when she had been introduced to Drusilla by Holland. Further still after what she had just heard from one of her monitors. Damn it… This was not going to be a popular report. Lilah just hoped, as Holland asked her to step inside, that this could be dealt with at his level – that the report would not have to go to the senior partners. But that was ultimately a forlorn hope. Eventually everything found its way to the senior partners. How they had time to pay attention to every success and every failure she had no idea but even if it had to wait until Review they would find out. Just my luck that not only am I actually working here when there would be one of the Reviews, but it was so soon. Next year in fact. Most of her other projects were going well though – she ought to have nothing to worry about, if the averages were considered. But eventually everything went to them and eventually everything came right back down from them too. In spades. However briefly she could expect to suffer the repercussions. Or long. “Lilah,” Holland greeted her, expectation in his voice. “Sir.” “You have something for me? A report?” Could he already know? Of course he could. Even if he wasn't just covering his own back with a little covert surveillance of her files then he could easily justify an investigation of them – or a direct report from the source. They were company assets that she was using rather than freelancers that would answer only to her. It seemed better to do that than risk her expenses being examined in audit. The auditors were only one step below the Reviewer in ferociousness. “Yes sir.” “Excellent. Project Two Roses I see,” he said, looking at the file she carried. “Yes sir.” She hadn’t asked about the project name that had suddenly appeared on the file a couple of months ago. Sometimes it was better not to know. Besides it wasn't important in a firm that called it’s seventy-five yearly audit by a denizen of one hell or another a ‘Review.’ “How is that coming along then Lilah? I haven’t had an update in oh, it must be six months now.” Implied criticism or small talk? If he had said he wanted a report then he would have received one. No question. But… maybe she was supposed to have been keeping him more closely appraised. No. This was her project, he had made that clear. For better or for worse… though Holland had never said that. It was unfortunate what had happened to Lindsey but the one thing she had learnt from his example was the value of maintaining control and independence, to the greatest extent possible, in your own projects. Guarding them from the interference of others. Lindsey had got sucked into someone else’s project area and he had paid the price. A fatal one. “‘Yes sir, about that. There has been little apparent progress over that period sir.” He smiled. Maybe at her ignoring the implications of his earlier criticism. She figured that he was grooming her for bigger things and this project was itself an early indication of that faith. As well as a test. More a test of her patience than her skills… so far at least. And with Lindsey gone this project could carry her very high indeed. “Until now.” It wasn't a question. “Yes, until now.” “Have a seat Lilah.” He directed her to the comfort of the easy chairs against the wall of his new office and she could certainly appreciate the luxury. There was after all an opening in his old role and that office had been pretty snazzy too. But there was a fat chance of being appointed to that role. Not after this little debacle. Average or not, what would be considered was the last thing that had happened. The appointment was due to be made next week and precisely one half of this project was now a small pile of ash blowing around an abandoned warehouse. As for the other half… the trackers had lost her two months ago in Chicago and never picked up the trail again. The second rose was, they said, getting very good at spotting watchers and either dodging them – or eliminating them altogether. Two vampire teams dusted – somehow – whilst on watch on consecutive nights. She had banned further vampiric monitoring activity and that second part of the project had stopped killing her monitors. Now she just ditched them and failed to resurface. Maybe though the vampire team’s success at finding her had been less to do with their skills and more to do with their nature – and Miss Maclay’s self proclaimed mission. Could she have been watching them? Could she know what was going on? It hadn’t seemed important at the time. Lilah had known that the two roses would eventually come together. At the Sunnydale Mystical Convergence. Knowing that... Well knowing that nothing else really mattered. Until they came together where was the problem if the watchers lost the second component of her project? The continued watching was an afterthought in itself – certainly not required by circumstances as long as it could be confirmed that they did actually connect in Sunnydale. No problem, she had told herself at the time when reports had been filed. She’d just told them to track her down. Lilah hadn’t even stressed the urgency – because there was none. Point of fact she had even written in her monthly summary that she thought it was a good thing – that it showed the development necessary in Miss Maclay for her future uses to Wolfram and Hart. Which it did. But now all of her communications were on the file and the files would form the major part of next years Review… If everything worked out then there was no need to worry – results would be all that counted. But… But now she had lost both of the component parts of this project. Both of her roses and ultimately she had no one to shift the blame onto. That was one of the first thing she had learned from her mentor, who had, even as he taught her, already shifted blame onto her. Shift the blame, and all the bad results; while hanging on to the good results. As far as possible. That was the whole point in forming project teams. But for this project there was no team. She was the team and the leader. It was kind of hard to find an up side here… One of the roses was gone forever. “Willow Rosenberg is dead.” “She’s a vampire. Or rather was a vampire Lilah. She was already dead. I assume you mean that what you actually meant to say was that she has been destroyed?” Holland asked her without a flicker of emotion to give Lilah a hint what the penalty for this lapse of her supervision and monitoring was going to be. Not that she’d had a chance to intervene… But the chips would fall. They might even bury her. “Yes sir, she’s been destroyed. Sorry.” For some reason Holland had a slight grin on his face. Which expanded as he said “Excellent.” That took her aback. “Sorry sir?” What was he saying? That the project was over anyway? That they no longer had a use for Rosenberg or that he had known… “Excellent, everything is going just as the writings seemed to foretell,” Holland replied with a cheery smile to brighten her dour mood. “You do remember the prophecy don’t you Lilah?” “Yes sir, of course… it just didn’t seem to state that Rosenberg would die.” Now Lilah was confused. She hated prophecies with a fiery passion. It seemed to her that the firm put an awful lot of effort into attempting to give prophecy a helping nudge. But mine is not to reason why… mine is just to do and… Best not to think the rest of that thought it could become close to the truth around here in a heartbeat. “Remember Lilah, prophecy never does. It never states anything. That is what makes it prophecy. Open to interpretation. Able to go either way. And that is why the senior partners invest so much of our time into nudging it along.” ‘Nudging.’ Just what she had been thinking. Was Holland a mind reader? No…if he had been then most of the associates under his supervision would have been in a netherworld of trouble – herself included. “Prophecy is a tricky thing Lilah,” he continued. “Always remember that. The slightest thing can disrupt it, make you realise that your interpretation was not quite right. That everything you have been working for was in error. Or that you are looking for results in the wrong place.” “Then why do we rely on it?” she asked, realising as soon as the words left her mouth that, in some contexts, she was questioning firm policy. “I mean if it is so open to interpretation,” she explained carefully. “We don’t,” Holland replied, the smile taking on another aspect on his face, like a adult speaking to a small child and explaining the fundamental principles of flight. “Not usually. Not without something to corroborate. We weigh the balance of probabilities before we act and then we weigh the impact of either action or inaction. It’s just like any other case in fact. You acquire the evidence and then…” “You stack the deck,” Lilah completed the unofficial mantra. Another thing that was taught to every junior associate by his or her mentor. “Exactly.” “But Willow Rosenberg has been destroyed. She’s dust sir and Miss Maclay isn’t in Sunnydale either,” Lilah pointed out. “Even for a vampire destruction is not necessarily the end. There are ways…” Expensive and ritualistic ways. “Methods I need to implement sir?” Lilah asked trying to sound keen and proactive, still feeling that she might have something to answer for somewhere in this whole mess. Better to get her responsibilities confirmed at this point whilst he was making the choices than to wait. After all she had researched and prepared a list of possible contingencies to deal with this, and many other, situations. “Not as yet. This is not the time. You will know when and if you have to bother at all. If Tara Maclay arrives at the mystical convergence and Miss Rosenberg is still… departed… then we will have to make arrangements. But there is a very good possibility that everything may proceed even without our intervention.” But how? Lilah wondered. Rosenberg and Maclay were not even aware of each other. They’d had no contact. Maclay was destroying every vampire that she encountered. She had no reason to seek out something, someone that she had never known. Then Lilah got it. He knew something. The firm did. There was somewhere something other than prophecy. Something that confirmed it. “What is the corroboration here sir?” “‘Why nothing less than fate Lilah. Nothing less than fate. They are fated to come together. It isn’t just foretold, if it was we would not have even bothered – too nebulous – the prophecy could have referred to anyone. But the senior partners have it on very good authority that it is fate. Nothing gets in the way of fate Lilah. Not time, not space, not distance, no person or creature. Not even death. Eventually fate will bring them together.” Holland smiled at Lilah’s sceptical face. “Willing to believe in prophecy but not in fate Lilah?” It was a friendly question there was no harm in answering honestly. She didn’t even trust prophecy much. “I can’t honestly see the difference sir. Someone foretells to give a prophecy. Someone tells us our fate.” She shrugged. “No. Those are both the same thing. The twentieth century has seen a sloppy attitude towards language. Those examples are both prophecies – though you’re right about that as far as it goes. It’s all down to interpretation. But fate….”’ He tailed off and then returned from his musing. “Real fate – True Fate if you will - is very different. Not everyone has a fate and even if they do then it often doesn’t offer anything to us. But sometimes, sometimes fate can produce a nexus. Where two fates link, then there is no interpretation, there is no ambiguity. Perhaps alone in their generation these two are fated to be together. Somehow.” Holland stopped, looked at her. “If necessary all of reality will twist itself inside out to bring them together. It will be. That’s the wonderful thing about true fate, it’s a sure thing.” He grinned at her, pleased that her mood had lightened. “Go on get out of here, you deserve a day off, I think you have been worrying far too much and I’ve seen the hours that you have been logging recently.’ Holland was pleased with the progress and things were looking better and better. Lilah smiled back at him, and actually meant it. It was as good as an order and she could live with that. She made for the door. “Oh sir,” she remembered something else. Peripheral but another prophecy. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. “The vampire with the soul – he too has been destroyed according to our source. Same time and place.” “Angelus?” “Mmmn.” Lilah wasn’t stupid. Lindsey had been insisting that the Angelus, chained up by the Master was supposed to be some sort of big shot… a player according to prophecy, and for a time Holland seemed to have agreed with him. And now both Lindsey and the vampire were gone. There was only her project. There was only her and if there was no failure… then Holland’s old office looked a definite possibility. “Thank you Lilah.” There was no reading that dismissal, but she fancied that he was satisfied to hear that news too. The mess that Lindsey had made when he attempted to interfere in this project and deal with the Master at the same time… A perfect example of what not to do. She couldn’t regret the report that had doomed him. All she could think about as she planned her evening at the pit fights were Holland’s words about fate. ‘If necessary all of reality will twist itself inside out to bring them together. It will be.’ That meant that she couldn’t lose. If it were true – and she had already seen far too much to doubt that fate might exist as a real force. ‘A sure thing.’ She could live with those odds. --------------
To use the words... To be continued.
--------------
Anyone want to bet against me bringing Willow back?*S* And yes this was supposed to be the part that laid the future out as fate... but you clever kitties already guessed!
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 22, 2002).] IP: Logged | Tiggrscorpio
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 | posted March 22, 2002 16:56
I have to admit, I was a bit stumped when you dusted Willow. But now I see I shall have to wait, like Lilah, to find out how they will come together.Another fabulous update. Thanks! ------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged | supermus
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 260
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 22, 2002 18:43
A fine fic if I may say so myself. And boy, are those some long parts . Something I can't manage myself . quote:
Nothing gets in the way of fate Lilah. Not time, not space, not distance, no person or creature. Not even death. Eventually fate will bring them together
Nothing better to hear to lift my heart. Given, in this context it's kinda creepy, but cockle-warming nonetheless.IP: Logged | Kalita
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1148
Registered: Jan 2001 | posted March 22, 2002 21:35
It all just clicked for me - especially the Wolfram & Hart angle.Well done! I look forward to this panning out. IP: Logged | The Rose
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 621
Registered: Jun 2001 | posted March 22, 2002 22:06
Good job. I may stick with this afterall.------------------
Tara: My heart doesn't stutter. Tara: Willow, I got so lost.
Willow: I found you. I will always find you. Tara: Nobody messes with my girl! Willow: Hi, um Tara. How are you? I was wondering maybe you want to go out sometime for coffee? food? kisses and gay love? IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 01:13
That seemed to go down well*S*What can I say? Seeking to reassure some and yet not to spoil others... Three more linked parts coming in which the immediate question is answered and time skips ahead once more - this time into S4. From here on the true story arc commences - all of this so far was the set-up for that arc. The immediatly following 3 parts remain more than a little dark - thereafter though the story becomes less about the darkness as the move towards the light. Slow as that will be. The cast will also be expanded - though the major focus remains W/T - of course. Apologies for repeating this "it will be tough going" mantra ad nauseam but something different is coming.... gradually. Thannks for all the feedback Kittens. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Sassette
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 263
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 01:17
Oh, Katharyn, you SO rock my world. But ACK! I've been waiting to see this story show up, because the sidestep stuff in the beginnings cycle looked VERY intriguing.And dammit, now that I've seen these - color me intrigued. But, uhh ... only if you keep the brush away from the ticklish spots, 'cuz I hate that. -Sassette IP: Logged | LeatherQueen
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 148
Registered: Oct 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 02:31
Dang... I can't wait to see how you're going to bring Willow back. Such a wonderful story and it's completely drawn me in. And I absolutely LOVE being able to see in to Vamp Willow's thoughts. Crazy as they are. ------------------
"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory IP: Logged | Avatar'a
Blessed Wannabe
Posts: 5
Registered: Mar 2002 | posted March 23, 2002 07:34
This is like finding an exciting new book to read...Without the added temptation of peeking at the ending...Movin' in for the duration. ------------------
Eternity has no favorites. IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 08:27
Sassette - glad you found this and coming from someone writing with your deft touch I appreciate the compliment all the more... but ticklish???Leather Queen - The 'how' is answered next - posting tomorrow as we skip to Season 4. Karma, as you will find out again and again, is a bitch in this reality... Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Brynn
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 118
Registered: Sep 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 10:06
This is so great! I love stories that are so ambitious! I will stick with this to the end. Thanks Kathryn![This message has been edited by xita (edited March 31, 2002).] IP: Logged | katydid
Willowhand
Posts: 314
Registered: Sep 2001 | posted March 23, 2002 11:50
Wow....this story is just so great. I love the detailed look into Tara's past....and VampWillow....yummy. I can't wait until the girls actually meet up. ------------------
"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass. IP: Logged | Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 23, 2002 19:14
Wow! I can't think of the appropriate praise and superlatives, right now (my brain is a bit mushy) so...here! *Pixie tosses a pair of panties at Katharyn's feet.*IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 02:34
Part 5 Kittens... We are up to season 4 now and the real story can start to be told.Enjoy
K
------------ Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling I (Part 5)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Now the story can really get moving – the scene is set… time to play. The Return of Willow. Dead, twice-ish, but never quite forgotten. Set during the time that would have been the beginning of “Hush” in the prime Buffy reality – i.e. the night after Buffy’s dream about the girl with the box and the Wicca Group. I’m sure you all remember that episode right? I think it marked the start of a lot of people’s devotion to a certain couple.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Not just yet – but hey give me chance – oh right you did that already…
Notes: The Wicca Group in this fic is the one that was shown in “Hush” though obviously without W & T. I have taken the liberty of naming some members and altering some situations. In this reality, four years into the Master’s reign in Sunnydale the Wicca Group is less about bake sales and more about survival.
Also remember that certain things have not occurred in this reality… Switcheroo…
Thanks To: All those readers who have managed to accept the darkness I present and are sticking with this. I’ll do my best to ensure that you keep enjoying it. Jo, Kerry, Louise… as always.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling I By Katharyn Rosser
The circle was finally completed with the arrival of Carole and Anne. They all been kept waiting long enough. The collective impatient sigh was more than audible. It hung in the air.
“Sorry we’re late.” Carole apologised for them both, “The softball team memorial bake sale ran over and then we had to help tidy up…” Broken down bus and the whole softball team had been killed. She hated this town. She fell silent as she noticed the look on the faces of the rest of the group and most particularly the dark expression on the face of the one who had become the defacto leader. Carole still wasn't sure quite how that happened. Maybe it was magic. It sure wasn't charisma. Maybe it was fear. It made her slightly better to feel that her rightful organisational position had been usurped due to everyone being terrified. Sometimes that leader was scary… she just got this look and it was like looking right down into hell. But there was no way to argue with her power. In fact nobody argued with her power because nobody wanted to spend the rest of the meeting doing something embarrassing at which the others could laugh – rats had been known. And sometimes… sometimes it might have been worse than that. Sometimes group members had disappeared. But no one wanted to think about that much… they just all took a collective, unspoken, decision to shut up and bear it, Carole thought. Because they needed her to keep themselves alive in Sunnydale. “You know that curfew is just a couple of hours away,” one of the others protested as they sat down in their assigned spaces and picked up the spell ingredients that had been left in front of their mats. “What about the rest of us? We come here to try and make things better and all you can worry about is bake sales?” “Yeah,” another agreed, irritated too but mainly picking up on the mood of the group – which was set by just one person… and that person wasn't either Carole or Anne. “Sorry,” Carole apologised again. “Sorry,” her fellow latecomer added, thoroughly cowed, and wishing that she were matriculating anywhere but Sunnydale. Anywhere where power was being popular, rather than being able to protect yourself from vampires and other beasts that killed you in the night. “Enough now okay. Just enough,” the group’s unofficial leader instructed. No one had ever given her that role. She had just turned up one day and taken it from Carole and Anne. Turned them away from fundraising and towards the magic arts. No one who had any interest in actual Wicca had any protests… even Carole and Anne had sort of come around to the power that they were demonstrating nowadays. Even if it was only in the group… not individually. Doing the same thing alone… didn’t work. For any of them. It was power that had definitely helped them though. They might be five miles away from town here, but the student mortality rate was still shocking – even before the Softball team. But now, thanks to the newcomer, they all had wards in their rooms, protection against some creatures and they had been working at a more general ward to protect the entire campus proper. No one was even sure if it was possible, but if they could pull that off... Actually there was one person there who knew exactly what was possible and what was not – knew that those spells they all liked so much were insignificant if you could just make things happen. Now that was power. Unfortunately some spells kicked your ass – mentally and physically… And that was why she needed this shower of wannabe’s. Wiccan wannabe’s no less. Just save me from goody, goody Wiccans and find me a real witch. Actually this town wasn’t big enough for more than one witch… she thought. They would do what they were told and then they would die. It was a natural progression and nature was sooo important to them all. “Now, do we have the remaining spell ingredients?” she asked them, though she wouldn’t be shocked if they had forgotten or picked up the wrong sort of bat’s legs. Fruit bats weren’t going to cut it here. “Yes,” one of the more talented members, Diane, waved a bunch of herbs in the air. Before her were arrayed a number of bottles. It might even be a shame to see Diane die. Not enough of a shame to stop it from happening though. “Then lets get to it,” she instructed as their leader, the cowl pulled up over her head as usual, her face shrouded in the shadows it created. They all thought they knew her name. They all knew her face. But for some reason she insisted on hiding that during the working of their arts. Carole raised her hand. “Er sorry… get on with what?” The robed young woman looked at Carole, wondering why it was that she had been instructed to work with such… amateurs. Her employers could so easily have secured professional services to achieve their aims – she could have arranged it herself but her instructions had been very clear on the subject. On the appointed day, this day, she was perform a calling. Just not the calling that this bunch of… Wiccans had in mind. Play nice, she told herself adjusting the large cross that hung around her neck beneath the robe. Just for a few more minutes. “The Spirit of the Tree” she lied to them. “After all wood kills the vampires, this will help us better manipulate the wood for our defence and the defence of others.” The idea was actually sound. It was always better to bury a lie in the truth. If they had known anything though they would have realised that such a spell would be so far beyond the power of this group that they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Not without her boosting them as she had been doing for weeks now. And if she was going to boost them again… it was for her own ends. What a bunch of ignorant fools. When she had found them they had been nothing. And they still were nothing. She was quite proud of that. She’d given them enough of a taste of power to keep them coming back but stopped any of them from getting… too powerful. There might even be one or two who had a sniff of the talent. Just a sniff mind, but she’d kept them on ritual based magic. They couldn’t begin to touch her spontaneous use of magic. Just in case one of them proved to be more than a nothing. You never could tell… But soon they would just be… what? Breakfast… for the thing that she was truly calling into their circle. All she had to do was prevent herself becoming part of that meal and live to collect her payment. Nothing tricky then… “Which tree Amy?” Anne asked. “The willow tree,” she replied finding the lie quickly and easily. Not that a Willow would provide the best quality stakes. The wood was not ideal. Didn’t they see that? “Cool…” came the collected replies as she smiled encouragingly at them from beneath the cowl. ------------ The destruction and death had been quite educational to watch. Educational and kinda fun. Drained by the severe demands of the spell many of the group had collapsed as the portal to places beyond closed once more. It was like the sucking air dragged the energy from them and back to that place they were bringing their objective from. A place of nothingness. But they soon found a very good reason to get up and move. Their leader couldn’t remember ever seeing anything quite like it. It, the creature they had summoned, had been confused at first, almost babbling as it was demanding answers from the corpses it had in its hands and scattered at its feet. Bodies soon lay strewn around the meeting room. Some were drained, others were just twisted and broken shells of the young women they had once been. As the instigator – knowing what was likely to happen - she had remained calm and silent taking in the sights, the terrible sounds. The snarls, the screams, the sucking of blood from slashed arteries. The thing was very hungry and not just for blood. The stench of death was all around her and she felt blood spatter her robe, some on her face. But she did not move. If she did, if she presented a target, then she would join them in death. But remaining here, calm, silent, motionless… the vampire, as she had been promised, avoided her and went for the moving targets first. And then at last with every one of the Wicca Group dead around her the vampire seemed to be sated. In its hunger at least. Just because it had filled itself up with the young women didn’t mean that she was any safer though. The questions it had been asking of their shattered and dying bodies still remained unanswered. She had avoided the vampire’s fury. Expecting what had occurred she had deliberately chosen dark coloured clothing and given her fellows little magical pushes into the waiting vampire’s arms – keeping the red head occupied and, more importantly, away from her. She had been warned about this time… this most deadly time. Something recalled from nothingness… from that place in-between… was not going to react well to sensory overload back in the world. Let alone hunger. And once there was no one but her left… then the danger was still far from over. There was just her and the vampire, which stood once more in the centre of what had been the circle, regarding her with curiosity. It was wondering why perhaps, like any sensible person, she hadn’t unlocked the meeting room door and fled. And there were those eyes… they burned into her like a yellow fire reading her soul until there was nothing left to hide. So she could not even be surprised when it calmly walked over to her and addressed her. “You’re not what you say you are…” the red-headed vampire took and caressed her hand. That was actually the most worrying thing to Amy. After the initial blood lust had faded she had watched as the vampire toyed with some of her later victims. And it didn’t seem to be just killing play. But she was under instructions… She was not to do anything that might endanger that which they, she, had summoned. Besides the effort, though channelled through the now dead wiccans, had drained her a lot too. “No I’m not,” she told it. “You don’t belong where you are,” the vampire observed, not sounding sure of what it was saying, as if relying on instinct but wondering why it couldn’t believe its eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion… mine is that I am right where I belong.” The fingers were at her neck now… fingers that she had seen tear open a throat before the still bloodstained lips drank from the gaping wound. “You’re not afraid of me?” The vampire sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed. It dropped its hand from her and closed its eyes, head swaying gently as if listening to some tune. “There are worse things than you”’ she finally replied and that was the truth. Besides she had backup, provided by a whole firm of things that were way worse than this vampire ever could be. “You brought me back,” it said, figuring it out. The vampire remembered dying then. That was crucial, they had been told, that it should know that it had died – that she couldn’t just lift it from one reality before that death occurred. That it should feel gratitude to her for her efforts. And if it asked she should tell it the truth. Always the truth. The truth, they had said, is your ally. She didn’t know about that. Lies had always served her pretty well too. But it didn’t ask anything anyway. Amy simply nodded in response to the original question, not about to volunteer information that might be poorly received. That was all she had to keep her alive. She knew that her life hung in the balance, held there precariously by factors beyond her control. If the vampire decided to drain her, snap her neck or anything else there would be no time to defend herself or for her backup to come to her aid. Where was that backup anyway? But she was hoping that the vampire would realise… perhaps even feel some gratitude for what they had done. Of course it had to appreciate the world it was in to do that. “Then you should be rewarded.” It looked down, saw her fingers making almost instinctive gestures, completing a spell that would carry this thing far away from her. But she didn’t have the juice left… she was too far-gone and needed to rest, recover. Maybe pay a visit and pay the price of a supercharge. Was this what she was reduced to she wondered? Unable to complete a job because she was afraid… but the spell had not worked anyway… She looked into the vampire’s soul. Beyond the dangerous surface emotions, looking for something… a shred of lingering humanity. A morsel of mercy that might be dealt her way…. The soul itself. But there was nothing in this one. Nothing but… “Your fingers aren’t working…? Awww… Mine are,” it told her. The vampire interlaced its fingers with hers. The grip was incredibly strong between fingers that seemed so delicate. It held their hand up between them as if remembering… something. It was an almost gentle gesture, which had some meaning to the vampire. Or seemed to. The vampire started to squeeze, watching her carefully as she squeezed until the witch was sure the bones in her fingers would be snapped. The pain was so bad that she couldn’t even start to bring a spell to her mind. Even if she had could manage it… she was under specific instructions... ‘no magical damage.’ She had tried to violate that instruction – out of fear – but couldn’t. She remembered that that now. What they would do to her for breaking the terms of the contract was much, much worse than having her hand hurt. But what if it killed her? She looked towards the door where she knew her backup should have been. Gave the tiniest nod. They had made allowances for this happening. She contained her pain and managed to limit its expression to a soft whimper. That seemed to impress the vampire though it did not slacken the grip. But it didn’t get any stronger either. Constant pressure. Constant pain. It seemed to like it that way. Then the vampires other hand shot out sideways, without looking and grabbed something that could not be seen. Her backup. Marcie. From the immediate sounds of choking it must have taken Marcie by the throat, squeezing her as tightly as it was squeezing her hand and tiny cuts opened up on that hand as Marcie must have struggled to free herself. ------------- Willow had the other by the throat, had sensed her enemy’s approach after the witch had nodded. A strange witch this one. Not that she had met any others before. But she was strange all the same. She wasn’t who she should be. Displaced. Wrong. But better for it. What was wrong was just sooo right. She squeezed with both of her hands intending to pop the head from the invisible one – some thing she couldn’t see but human by the feel and smell of it. Not to mention the choking sounds. It really might have been fun to see if its blood or its innards were also invisible. She could hear it all though. The slight cracking of cartilage. The grind of bone against bone. Such sweet music. And the smell of fear… she’d missed that so much she hardly even noticed the half-moon cuts on her hand and fingers. There had been no sound where she had been before but it wasn't silent. There had been no sight but it wasn't just black. No smell… She didn’t like where she had been even if it was for just a few days… or a thousand years… of dreams. And if these two had brought her back then… they still should die. That was who she was. She was a killer. But she was also confused… so she did not squeeze either any harder. It was…right and it was wrong. This was her place. Now that she could sense once more she could feel that this was her place. Somewhere she should have been. She could smell it. The resigned terror amongst her waking meals was familiar. They knew what she was and they feared her for it. They knew their place. Not like that other, soft, bad place full of fuzzy pink versions of herself. Living ones. Ugghh. Holding this hand like that though? Why was she doing that? She was doing it now to cause pain… but why hold the hand like that in the first place. Because, something told her, that was what you did with a witch. That was how you did hold her hand. But she had never known a witch… never. So how did she know that and what sort of stupid truth was it anyway? ‘That was how you held a witches hand’? It was going round and round in her head and she didn’t like it – it was just like the dreams… getting in the way of what she was. Had she dreamt about the hands? The hands, like that. Holding. The rush of power through her as she knew that she could… Could what? She didn’t know. The only thing that she knew was that she was safe. Safe? Why safe? No something… she was remembering things that she had never done. Never done. Not yet. Thinking? Remembering? Dreaming? What was going on? A waking dream again. And that face in the dreams… overlaid on the face of this witch. The face of something that was hers… just made it clearer that this one wasn’t. ------------- “You’re not mine,” the vampire said to her. Amy had to agree with that, whimpered again as the vampire squeezed once more, then released her hand and the relief that swept through her as fast as the blood into her hand was bliss. It released Marcie a second later and she must have collapsed to the floor. The witch hoped the young woman was not dead… her employers would not be impressed at the loss of that asset. Even to acquire this new one they obviously so valued. Reduced to a whimper! The shame of it…but what the lawyers had paid her… with an oh-so-valuable ‘detayat’, the little trinket which would allow her to take and retain a body as required. Moving with ease to others, and back or keeping one indefinitely. When they had told her that they had one… she would have done this for just money, but for one of those rare treasures… That was definitely worth the effort and a little pain. Or even a lot. She would have taken much more for that reward. She could always vacate the ‘premises’ and allow someone else to do the recuperating for her. But she was glad she didn’t have to. She had a hot date with a cute guy tomorrow and she knew this body so well now that she didn’t want to have leave it before that. The vampire looked at her again, rejecting her mentally and then made for locked door of the room. Marcie had the key, she knew that. But it didn’t bother with the lock at all, just wrenching the door off its hinges and striding out into its world once more. She just hoped that Wolfram and Hart regarded this as a success… otherwise she wasn't sure that either this, or the body of her birth, would be a safe place for her now. A Madison reduced to a whimper… ------------- “So the matter is concluded satisfactorily?” Lilah checked as Holland listened over the speakerphone. The report was nothing like that which she would have ordinarily required of personnel working for her, but that was what you got for sub-contracting. It was absolutely necessary in this to have a cut-out. There could be no clear route back to Wolfram and Hart. Not for this. Not so soon anyway. One day they would make their involvement clear – in fact she understood that it would be crucial. But not just yet. “If satisfactory includes having no feeling in my hand and that invisible woman you sent me being unconscious for two hours then I would say so,” the witch was not impressed by that, having recovered from her previous relief at actually being alive at all. “You were both notified of the risks. Marcie is going to be alright?” Lilah asked with a professional concern. They had invested a lot in that young woman after salvaging her from that government program. A lot of time, a lot of retraining. Though this case had been a little out of her area of expertise. “She’s conscious and talking. I did what I could. Tricky when she is invisible. But yes the spell worked. Another vampire is loose in Sunnydale.” “Excellent.” Holland smiled at her, nodding his own satisfaction. “We appreciate your consideration for Marcie, Ms Madison and there will be a bonus to your payment. We will have that payment delivered to you in the next few hours as agreed. Will that be satisfactory?” There was just silence from the other end of the line – though the call had not been terminated. “Hello? Ms Madison?” For her part, on the other end of the line she was trying to speak, but when she opened her mouth nothing emerged but air. Not even a croak. Her voice had not just gone it had disappeared entirely. Lilah ended the call. The operation had been a success, payment had been arranged. She didn’t need to know anything else about the witch or her body swapping activities. Nor about her being cut off. Strange though. But hardly a problem. Perhaps the witch had been eaten. Shame but payment would still be sent. It was in the contract of course. She shrugged. “Lost her?” Holland asked. “So it seems. Oh well. Drink?” she offered. Things were starting to come together. One back in the game and on the board. The other never out of it but still not quite there yet. “Thank you,” Holland accepted the offered beverage. “Here’s to you continuing to make such excellent progress.” She tipped her glass to him. ********** Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Charlie
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 175
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 09:38
Katharyn, this is just brilliant. You have me totally hooked. I went back and read the Beginning Cycle and absolutely loved that as well, but this is the best thing I've ever read on the board. Its completely original, unemotionally written and you handle you characters and plot with absolute skill. And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen IP: Logged | Tiggrscorpio
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 12:20
Damn, Katharyn! Evil Amy, viscious Willow and a (non)appearance by Marcie. This story just gets better and better. Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged | emily 'first'
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 221
Registered: Oct 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 17:17
KatharynThis is just so exciting...I'm wriggling with glee!! Oh,yeh...It's looking to be a damn good story too... ------------------
There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps... vive,valeque. IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 25, 2002 13:42
quote:
Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?
Sort of glad that you can smile... as I said Karma is a bitch in this fic - this isn't the last time this sort of thing might happen. quote:
Originally posted by Charlie:
Its completely original, unemotionally written ... And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!
You can't ever have too much ass sucking... can you? Unemotionally written... mmmmn. I guess that is the appearance on the page. Part of me was screaming at me the whole time just to make it "nicer." Actually I have succumbed to that temptation. Believe me the original draft of the parts you have seen so far were much darker - uneccessarily so and defeating the object. The fic became, in that version, about the darkness and overcoming darkness. That is not the point at all... as I keep saying it is the journey. Also that lack of emotion was a big part of my angst about whether this was suitable for Pens. Ultimately the final destination swayed me. Where it goes is definitely an okay place to be. Thanks for the feedback kittens... it means alot. Part 6(?) posts tomorrow at about 19.00 GMT - not that I think you are hanging on tenterhooks! Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 02:42
Part 6 Kittens... earlier than planned but I amnot sure whether I will be around tonight to post it. This one is all Willow, again not especially nice, a direct follow on to Part 5. Next we go back to Tara and find out what gets her to Sunnydale... Enjoy K --------- Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling II (Currently Part 6)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Willow is back… but this is “Hush,” remember? Not conditional on Buffy ever being in Sunnydale (as was pointed out to me,) so there are things a vampire has to do… And just because she’s back, don’t mean she’s at all nice…
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Wait until the next part… then you’ll be able to see it coming.
Notes: The three “Calling” parts, is not strictly in line with the canon timeline. Some things move faster, some slower. Live with it!
Thanks To: The usual suspects…. All the readers, the kittens, the mods, Jo, Kerry, Louise who all had their own parts to play in this fic.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling II By Katharyn Rosser
As Willow made her way from the college campus into town she knew that she was truly home once more. The streets were still alive with the sounds of imminent death. The screams the lovely, lovely screams. Piercing, warbling, undulating. Cries of agony, simple pain. Terror. Whatever it was, she drank it all in. You’d think that the humans would learn to stay home… But they never did. Dumb. It was good to be back home and out of the nothingness. No more freaky realities where the Slayers and the White Hats ruled…. Her old self, the weak little girl, the human… she would have liked to puzzle it out… about the realities. What sort of stupid place was it where she had never become? But, actually, she just couldn’t seem to care about that right now. White Hats had killed her. Twice now – sort of. And she wasn't about to forget that either. She would have her fun with them. As she and Xander should have done long, long ago. They had played games for far too long when they should have been wiping the do-gooders from the face of the Master’s world. But you could have fun whilst being serious too. ‘Whistle while you work,’ she thought as a shrill cry rang out… Not quite a whistle but just what she wanted to hear. Close by… Xander… he was all gone too. All gone. To find him there in that freak show, warm and breathing. It stirred those old memories that lived on inside of her of the time when she had been like her other self. The other self that had been sooo tempting. Now there was fun. It would have been better than any mirror could have been. She missed mirrors. She had never thought much about them when she was human… but there was something about them. Something special. It had been like looking in one meeting the fuzzy her… But having fun with yourself –and the mirror image still being another person as well. Maybe a little confusing but she could have concentrated. Kept track if she had to… definitely a unique opportunity for playing. Shame it had gone by unrealised – just a little teasing grope… Shame. Still she was home now. In the world where every night was playtime. Where she and hers ruled that night. Where the world had fallen into the proper order of things. That was Darwinism wasn't it…? She remembered that too. Survival of the fittest. It was only right… why should the prey rule the predator? It was freaky and unnatural that other Sunnydale. Home again, home again… Good nights in Sunnydale… But what was that home like now? It was similar, but things had also changed. And when was home now? How long had she been away… what had happened here? Where was the Master? The Slayer could not have gotten him… he was far too powerful to be killed by just a Slayer… he had seen dozen of them come for him and not one… not one had ever staked him… and she knew that if one had… there were ways. She was entrusted with that knowledge. She, Xander, Luke and Darla… alone amongst all his servants were his favourites. Xander was gone… Darla had long ago disappeared. Which was a very good thing… That just left her and dear Luke… who wasn't exactly the brightest orange in the apple tree. When the day came… she would rule at the right hand of the Master. Funny though… it didn’t make her glad to know that. Besides she had been gone. Things had moved on without her – they were bound to have - and it wasn't fair. There might even be another favourite in the Master’s court. And that… that did anger her. She’d have to do something about that… She had missed things. She didn’t know just what yet, but there were bound to have been things. She caught a stray sheet of newspaper that was blowing across her path. It raged about the continued deaths in Sunnydale, demanding to know what the Mayor was doing about it. He was still here then. All she cared about though was that it showed that the world was more than a year older than when she had left it. In some ways it seemed like yesterday, and in others it was a thousand years. The great, much anticipated, day in the factory had been and gone and the cattle of Sunnydale were still here. The world was not yet a haven for vampires… with the humans rounded up in pens for blood and all the other needs they could help fulfil. The town though… it was still what it had been. Hers. But they had forgotten her. She had come across a vampire as he sucked at the neck of a sweet young woman. And he had looked up at her and not known who she was. He had challenged her when she tried to take the woman from him… just for a taste. He should have been glad to share… she was the Master’s favourite. So she had broken his extremities then drunk from the tender vessel. But the woman was… he had tainted her and so she just dropped the human still alive, if barely. Spoiled goods. Besides she was still all-full and warm from all that witchy goodness she had feaster on. He, the vampire, though knew who she was now and the word would spread. It would get back to the Master that his Willow was back. They would all know. The Master would welcome her… and the rest would hate and fear her. As it should be. She would make sure of it. She had a lot of tension to work off. Dying so much had filled her with tension and a desire to… live out her desires. Still sated from her culling of the herd of wannabe witches nothing appealed to her as she walked slowly into town from the campus, drinking in the atmosphere of fear and hatred. But she knew that she had to announce her presence in the best way possible. She had to let them all know that Willow was back to play. Back for good. And that she was still the same as she had been. That death had not changed her. That she was still worthy of sitting at the Master’s right hand come the ‘glorious’ day. Even though she wasn't sure just what made it so glorious. They already ruled Sunnydale… what point ruling a world you could never see and taste. Maybe a few more towns to play in… but the world? What was the point? She didn’t know why that witch had recalled her. She had hinted that there was a purpose behind it. That there was some greater reason for it all... and she had sacrificed all those others for that reason. But Willow was way too bored with even thinking about it to care what that might be. She was back and she would not fulfil their purpose for her unless it was also her purpose. Just her own needs. That was what being dead was all about – you lived for others. Once you died it was all for yourself. She needed a good, lingering kill, to motivate herself and bring her back to the old ways. Stop all this thinking and just get back to doing. It was like she had been tainted by her pink, fuzzy, other self. She shuddered and then she spied the victim she would bless, looking about herself nervously outside a store, waiting for something, and looking with even greater anxiety at the old church opposite. Who cared what concerned it exactly… The concerns of humans ended when the sun went down. After dark they were just cattle and playthings. Actually before dark that was kinda true too… you just had to be more careful. But in general daylight sucked. Boring… Good job it was night time and that the hated sun would not rise behind her for many, many hours… hours she would spend teasing her new plaything. Working up an appetite. Killing was all very well and blood… well she had more than enough of already, but just tasting the hint of the rich fear within her stolen victim had awakened a need. It had been so long since she had really played. They wouldn’t let her be long enough in that freaky world to do anything much… But she was home now. And who was there even to play with but the humans? The puppy was long since dust. Perhaps he had been called back too… No. Who would waste their energies of bringing that soul-riddled excuse for a vampire back into this wonderfully macabre world? No one would even notice he was gone… except for her. She had liked to pass the daylight hours causing him pain. She trotted over to the young woman on the corner, looking about herself as if she too was a human fearing the attack of an undead fiend. A kindred spirit caught in the night with no one to protect her. The woman would cling to her out of fear… and Willow would drink it up. Perhaps being dead for so long would have its advantages. They wouldn’t know who she was. The human noticed her approach quickly and started to move away but then was convinced by her act and relaxed, waving her over with a sense of urgency. “You too huh?” the human woman said to her. Small, blonde haired. Reminding Willow just a little of that Slayer that had killed Xander but looking older. Mid to late twenties. The resemblance though, that would make the kill all the sweeter. It was the least that she could do for him… playtime in his memory… after all she had no intention of doing anything more. Not for him anyway. “Me? Yes. Me too.” She nodded fervently, remembering how she had used to be… once upon a time. Naïve… innocent and afraid. “You saw them?” the woman asked. Actually she might have been thirty or so, but Sunnydale was hard on humans. They aged quickly. Perhaps it was all the undead that remained as young and pretty as the day they died. Perhaps they piled their aging on the humans that remained. Call it stress, anxiety. Who cared? Maybe the universe just wanted to balance the books. Boring philosophy… moving on now. “Them? Them. Yes. Definitely them,” Willow said. “Who are they?” “I can see them moving. You see?” The blonde pointed over the street at the church, abandoned as long as Willow could remember even from her living days in the town. Willow moved behind her then followed the finger. The church was lit. Shadows moved within the boarded up windows. Perhaps only in Sunnydale could you discount the homeless as being the cause of that. This morsel was right something was in there… and it terrified the human. The fear was nice enough but it wasn’t fair if it wasn't fear of her. It was definitely second best and Willow had never wanted to settle for second best. Not in anything… She grasped the pointing finger as if to draw it back and stop the revealing gesture from giving them away, but instead ran her own finger up the human woman’s bare arm, from finger to elbow and upwards. But in her fear the woman did not even notice her touch. Or had more to worry about. No fair. “You’re cold,” Willow told her, “What are you doing out?” “I- I’m waiting for, I mean I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, then I saw them,” the woman whispered. “What’s your name?” Willow asked twirling her finger along the upper arm, underneath it to the softer flesh. “Sarah” the morsel replied. “What are you doing?” it finally asked her. “Just saying hello Sarah.” Willow’s hand found the soft armpit and lingered there, provoking a reaction at last as Sarah clamped that arm down upon the fingers as they made for the edge of her top. “Hello.” But she still wasn’t even looking at Willow. She was still looking across the street. Willow’s attention though was firmly on the neck of Sarah which she bent to lick, thrusting her hand into the young woman’s top wondering whether she would finally object. It was hard to care what the morsel was so fixated on that would distract her from the attentions she was receiving. Finally a real reaction. Sarah’s eyes left the church and as Willow heard a whispering sound the woman looked into her true demonic face. She smiled back knowing the effect it would have and Sarah opened her mouth to let out a scream. But nothing came out. Sarah tried again. There was nothing there. But the screams, the pleas, they were the best bit, Willow thought to herself. Come on Sarah let me hear you scream. She said those words… and heard nothing from herself either. She could still hear the sounds of the town… but not a shout. Not a word. Nor a scream. The humans. The vampires. All had fallen silent. Willow knew then that she could hear, but that she, like Sarah, had fallen silent. It was no fun if they didn’t scream. You couldn’t play if you couldn’t take advantage of all your senses… that was why she had never much liked gags and blindfolds. Too limiting. Across the street the church door opened. Securing her grip on Sarah who, if anything, was even more frantic at the movement of the door, she looked over at what emerged and Willow was immediately fascinated. New things were always fun and these were very new. Or they might be very old… Lifting the human woman off her feet with the arm that was hooked under her chin she moved her bodily forward towards the lurching figures that had emerged. Straitjackets… she had never tried those. They fell into the whole blindfold and gag thing as being limiting… but she guessed that she could use them… And behind those lurching things… what? ---------------- Willow had never seen their like. The rattling of the straps on the straitjackets tinkled like music and the footfalls of the minions were heavy and flat. Moving like apes across the tarmac towards her. Some went by, others clustered around her, as she looked back to the far more interesting… floaty things. The lurchers seemed to be waiting for orders… they neither attacked nor ignored her. The floaty things, human in shape but soooo obviously not human at all. Maybe they had been once. Just like her. And from their smiles they, like her, were glad to no longer be one of the throng of lowly cattle. Permanent smiles… and good teeth. Teeth any vampire would be proud have… They didn’t have to be pointed to rip our throats – just razor sharp. Sarah was wild now, struggling, kicking and clawing at Willow’s arm. She would be all bruised by the time she went to bed in the morning – wherever that was, perhaps this Sarah’s house would do – just until she got back into the Master’s graces. Pretty patterns on her arms. They would be bloody where desperate fingernails scraped her cold, dead, flesh back. She would bear the scars of this night and it had been so long since that had happened that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Waking up with a reminder of what had gone on the night before. That was strange. She knew that she had played shortly before her death…but she also was aware of the time that she had just not been. So long. She would bear the scars and Sarah wouldn’t. Sarah wouldn’t be anything by the time Willow bothered to notice them. The woman was right to feel fear but these things were not her problem. Willow was. But first she wanted to hear Sarah beg, cry and promise to be good for her. She wanted to hear Sarah scream and at the end as her teeth bit into that supple neck, or ripped open those wrists, she would want to hear Sarah moan. Till then Sarah was safe enough with her. I’ll be like a White Hat and protect her. Just for a little while. Being as she didn’t need to feed, she intended to enjoy herself. There was no need to hurry and she knew that these… whatever they were… were responsible for spoiling her playtime. Taking the screams away. Sun wouldn’t be up for a long while. She had time to find a place to shelter from its burning kiss. Sarah would never see that place though. Another heel struck her shins, stinging. Mmmmn. She was totally surrounded now with the loping creatures. They too looked as if they might have been human once. What had brought them to what they were now she didn’t care. The floaty grinning things were what she was concerned about. Two pairs had already set off in different directions along the road. Two remained at the door of the church and two were facing her and Sarah. She loosened her grip on the human woman as they examined the two of them and allowed Sarah to stand on her own feet. The human seemed to understand that right now Willow was not the greatest immediate threat to her life. Though Willow was absolutely certain that she would be again. There was play to be had. The grinning things looked at each other, tilting their heads as if silently communicating and asking each other for an opinion, then looked back at Willow once more. Tipped their heads once more then shook them and turned their attention to Sarah, terrified in her arms and if anything their grins widened and one gave an effete point at the human as the other nodded. Willow might not be able to hear the human but she could certainly smell the increase in her fear. She could feel the heat of it on Sarah’s skin in the loose embrace that she still maintained. The sweat on the flesh making it clammy. Her reaction to the odour was something akin to how she had, as a human, reacted to the smell of freshly baked donuts. With jelly in the mix. It was delicious… as if she would let this go. They wanted Sarah. She could see it. The lurching things could see it and closed in their ring. And Sarah could see it, tried to break free and make for the tiny gap that remained in that circle. Willow’s arm though was like a steel bar over her throat. There was no pressure until Sarah tried to escape from it… and found it would not move at all. Willow jerked her back against her so that Sarah fell off her feet and was supported only by resting against Willow’s body and by that taut arm. Willow started to stroke Sarah’s cheek, pleased to find that the gesture set off new tremors through Sarah. Fear was a beautiful thing, it would jump around from source to source. Perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever sensed. She could smell it. She could taste it. She could feel it, see it and when things were working right she could hear it. She wanted to hear it. It wasn’t fair. She had been so long without playing and now one of her senses was being all deprived by these things. Stroking Sarah’s cheek she allowed herself to revert to her vampiric visage and smiled as sweetly as she was able to with the impediments it put on her… right at the grinning things, which of course returned her smile. What choice did they have? It might have been centuries since their expressions had said anything else. Maybe they never had. Perhaps they had slipped into being like that from nothing? Created from the minds of the fearful. Who cared… bored with the whole thing now. She wanted to play now. Willow didn’t fear them. Sarah was hers and she wanted to hear her scream and moan before and during the kill. After was when silence was acceptable. Only after. She snarled at them. It was a silent snarl of course but how could they miss her intent. She would rip them all apart if she had to. The human was hers. Not theirs. She had never given up a kill to anyone but the Master… and never, ever one of her little toys. She had no idea what they were but what did that matter compared to the kill and playtime? Let them have the rest of Sunnydale. They might even settle a few scores for her. This one was hers though. They looked at each other, then back at Willow and gave her the tiniest little nod before silently floating away from her. The lurching things rattling and slapping their feet as they ambled away before them and in their wake, and in seconds all was quiet. And with them gone Willow stretched out with her own senses, ignoring Sarah’s panicked breathing and the wheezes that rang in her ears but still no words or cries. It wasn't the floaty things themselves that were making everything so quiet. She didn’t get that impression. There was something else. Willow started to listen. She had always been good at that… and some of the time she still had the patience for it. Listening for just where their voices had gone. Surely there was some trace… and to a vampire’s senses there was. The tiniest of whispers… in the old church. Where else but the place they had come from? And if Sarah’s voice was in there then she just had to get it back for her. Otherwise it would all be spoilt and no fun. ---------------- The entrance was empty, revealing just the disused state of the building. And oh look… no crosses to get in the way either. Someone had been so thoughtful in removing them. Maybe the floaty things didn’t like them either… any god certainly wouldn’t like those grins. At least the kind of god that had churches and synagogues and mosques built for them… Perhaps those evil hell gods the Master talked of? Maybe they would appreciate those grinning things a little more. The floorboards creaked though, betraying the presence of the lurchy thing upstairs. It must have been them – only they were touching the ground. Now… Just the precise amount of pressure on dear Sarah’s throat… right there. The woman was unconscious and now the main course could commence before she was ready, she looked at the peaceful Sarah, for dessert. To all the proper audio accompaniments. She supposed she might have triggered some silent alarm as she went up the stairs because as she emerged at the top they were there waiting for her. The workings of the clock were arrayed before her. On a table beneath it several jars and containers. Which they were trying no doubt to keep her from – despite all being empty. Important to them? Not important to Willow. She just wanted Sarah’s voice back. She dropped the woman to the floor beside her and the briefly the things in the straitjackets were distracted. Not her intention but Willow was nothing if not an opportunist. She prided herself at taking the best from every situation… and playing with it. She grabbed at the filthy skull of one of them, using the weight to spin her body off and launch into a kick at the other. But keeping her arms locked, the things neck cracking as her boot connected with the other one. Mmmmn she would have to remember that one, such a lovely productive move. And I bet I looked so good doing it too… The one that she kicked was propelled backwards even as its fellow collapsed limply to the ground and from where she landed she could see the hideously charming grin of one of the suited floaters. Coming round the side of the clock machinery, waving a scalpel. It looked so sharp. Catching the light on the blade. So precise, not clumsy like a big knife. She kicked out again at the minion and felt her boot connect with its groin. Human enough for that to have an effect. She had never really played with scalpels. Knives of all descriptions – she hadn’t much liked them. Once you started out with a knife there was nowhere else to go. But never a scalpel. She would be able to do such lovely things to flesh… to skin. Delicate things… Flaying would be so much easier. To peel it back so daintily and precisely. Willow wasn’t there to fight though. She just want the human’s voice back. She just wanted Sarah to scream for her. That was all. Not so much to ask… Maybe her own voice too… She kicked the minion again, this time in the head and it snapped back with what should have been vertebrae crushing force. Dead? She didn’t particularly mind. Death held no pleasures for her except when done for the best of purposes. Artfully applied. Fulfilling some desire. Self-defence just left her feeling so empty and bored. There were better things to occupy her time. The grinning monster stopped about a metre away from her, waving its raised finger in a parody of the teacher scolding a naughty child. Which she might seem to be to it, who knew how old it was? Willow knew that she would exist forever… now that she was back… but also that she was just starting out on that infinite time. As she plucked out its eyeballs and nibbled on them it might have been interesting to listen, to force it to tell its stories. But not a one of these creatures, or their minions, had said a word and if they wouldn’t talk to her then that was just too bad. For them. They had created the silence and she didn’t like it at all. It was the sound of boredom. But the silence was not total… there was still the tiniest hint of a whisper. Less than a TV on just-above minimum volume. Less than you might hear of a conversation on the street below from the top of a tall building. But it was there. She could hear it. Murmurs, whispers. They were loudest. The talking was in the background and the faintest of all were the almost silent screams. A thousand sounds playing around her ears. But only in here. In this room. There in fact, behind her. She turned her back on the floating thing and focused her senses feeling her back being slashed with the scalpel. A deep wound that would weep the blood of many of the humans she had killed today. Another slash. The sensation… the almost subtle parting of the skin. A slash that felt more like a graze as there was so little immediate pain. The sting. The wet fabric of her clothes as the blood of the witches of UC Sunnydale soaked it. There. The box. A small, wooden, box. Unremarkable in every sense. She walked over to it, glancing over at Sarah who was already coming round. Excellent timing… it was almost time to play. She didn’t look back but felt the floating creature come closer to her, attempted to kick back at it, but failed to calculate that it was in the air and ended up stumbling… another slash striking her arms. Her top was going to be ruined. It better not do anything to her trousers though. Those would be tougher to replace… The box. It had just confirmed what she already knew. It was the box that created the silence, or enforced it. She picked it up and turned back to the creature, which had stopped dead. Waving that finger at her once more. No it was saying – in it’s own silent way. Yes she nodded. I want to hear her scream she mouthed at it… meaning Sarah. After that she didn’t much care. It might be useful to have the town silent. No actually… it would be so boring that she wouldn’t have lasted a night like that. How to open the box though? It looked simple, but even when she lifted the catch nothing happened. The lid would not lift. A puzzle box? Never mind… She wasn't big on the sanctity of the property of others or much for puzzles. If you could rip the blood from peoples’ still living bodies with a song in your heart then you didn’t tend to care about boxes and mysteries much. She looked over at Sarah who was opening her mouth to try and scream once more at the sight of her proximity to things that she thought would kill her. The head of a dead minion in her lap. The body on its back, but the head face down. Sarah was going to scream and scream and scream. Willow promised herself that. She shook the box… nothing in it but the whispers. No rattle but the whispers grew louder as she moved it closer to her head. More agitated perhaps. Wanting to be free as much as she wanted to hear them Willow smiled and the grinning thing… it couldn’t stop smiling but it was a smile that was filled with fear now. Laced with it. It was afraid of what she would do… perhaps it would scream for her too. Beg… She liked it being afraid of her. She closed fist around the box and squeezed, tighter and tighter, the loose catch digging into her flesh until someone’s blood dripped on the floor and she could hear the joints of the wood move against each other. Creaking, groaning and then starting to crack before shattering completely. The box was empty… she dropped it and stood there, idly pulling the splinters of wood from her hand. Sarah was moaning. Willow could hear that. And that was all she wanted. They could go now and find somewhere for their fun. She crossed to the quivering woman and ignored the floating thing, which was looking at the ruins of the box and seemed distracted by it’s loss. She knelt before Sarah and raised her bloody hand to her face, leaving a sticky trail of the stolen blood that she would happily lap up later – perhaps with Sarah’s own. “Isn’t that so much better Sarah?” Sarah did nothing but moan in reply, scrabbling backwards towards the steps but was held by the weight of the minion across her legs. And her fear was redirected again… which was good. “Now Willow can make you cry…” It was a promise. Sarah didn’t have to scream until the end. But she decided to start early shrieking, terrified. Willow didn’t object… fear was always so much fun. The green goo that settled across them a moment later did nothing to shut the human woman up, nor did the collapse of another body across hers. Some part of Willow, deep down, thought the reaction to the scream it was very interesting. The sonic vibrations must have set off a resonance cascade inside the grinning things skull. That was why they wanted silence… Oh well…Willow was really just interested in the screamer though. She turned back towards Sarah, which was where her real interest lay. “That was nice of you Sarah. Now we don’t have to go anywhere else at all.” She was going to feed right here, after the terror, and her hands but not the scalpel, had worked its way on Sarah. It would be a first… here in a church – but somewhere away from the goo… that would just be icky. All green and sticky. Willow preferred sticky to be blood red. ************
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged | BytrSuite
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | jessan15
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged | IP: LoggedTiggrscorpioDoll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 posted March 22, 2002 16:56
I have to admit, I was a bit stumped when you dusted Willow. But now I see I shall have to wait, like Lilah, to find out how they will come together.Another fabulous update. Thanks! ------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged posted March 22, 2002 16:56 I have to admit, I was a bit stumped when you dusted Willow. But now I see I shall have to wait, like Lilah, to find out how they will come together.Another fabulous update. Thanks! ------------------
She's my everything! IP: LoggedsupermusCool Monster Fighter
Posts: 260
Registered: Jan 2002 posted March 22, 2002 18:43
A fine fic if I may say so myself. And boy, are those some long parts . Something I can't manage myself . quote:
Nothing gets in the way of fate Lilah. Not time, not space, not distance, no person or creature. Not even death. Eventually fate will bring them together
Nothing better to hear to lift my heart. Given, in this context it's kinda creepy, but cockle-warming nonetheless.IP: Logged posted March 22, 2002 18:43 A fine fic if I may say so myself. And boy, are those some long parts . Something I can't manage myself . quote:
Nothing gets in the way of fate Lilah. Not time, not space, not distance, no person or creature. Not even death. Eventually fate will bring them together
Nothing better to hear to lift my heart. Given, in this context it's kinda creepy, but cockle-warming nonetheless.quote:IP: LoggedKalitaBig Pineapple
Posts: 1148
Registered: Jan 2001 posted March 22, 2002 21:35
It all just clicked for me - especially the Wolfram & Hart angle.Well done! I look forward to this panning out. IP: Logged posted March 22, 2002 21:35 It all just clicked for me - especially the Wolfram & Hart angle.Well done! I look forward to this panning out. IP: LoggedThe RoseSassy Eggs
Posts: 621
Registered: Jun 2001 posted March 22, 2002 22:06
Good job. I may stick with this afterall.------------------
Tara: My heart doesn't stutter. Tara: Willow, I got so lost.
Willow: I found you. I will always find you. Tara: Nobody messes with my girl! Willow: Hi, um Tara. How are you? I was wondering maybe you want to go out sometime for coffee? food? kisses and gay love? IP: Logged posted March 22, 2002 22:06 Good job. I may stick with this afterall.------------------
Tara: My heart doesn't stutter. Tara: Willow, I got so lost.
Willow: I found you. I will always find you. Tara: Nobody messes with my girl! Willow: Hi, um Tara. How are you? I was wondering maybe you want to go out sometime for coffee? food? kisses and gay love? IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 23, 2002 01:13
That seemed to go down well*S*What can I say? Seeking to reassure some and yet not to spoil others... Three more linked parts coming in which the immediate question is answered and time skips ahead once more - this time into S4. From here on the true story arc commences - all of this so far was the set-up for that arc. The immediatly following 3 parts remain more than a little dark - thereafter though the story becomes less about the darkness as the move towards the light. Slow as that will be. The cast will also be expanded - though the major focus remains W/T - of course. Apologies for repeating this "it will be tough going" mantra ad nauseam but something different is coming.... gradually. Thannks for all the feedback Kittens. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 01:13 That seemed to go down well*S*What can I say? Seeking to reassure some and yet not to spoil others... Three more linked parts coming in which the immediate question is answered and time skips ahead once more - this time into S4. From here on the true story arc commences - all of this so far was the set-up for that arc. The immediatly following 3 parts remain more than a little dark - thereafter though the story becomes less about the darkness as the move towards the light. Slow as that will be. The cast will also be expanded - though the major focus remains W/T - of course. Apologies for repeating this "it will be tough going" mantra ad nauseam but something different is coming.... gradually. Thannks for all the feedback Kittens. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: LoggedSassetteCool Monster Fighter
Posts: 263
Registered: Nov 2001 posted March 23, 2002 01:17
Oh, Katharyn, you SO rock my world. But ACK! I've been waiting to see this story show up, because the sidestep stuff in the beginnings cycle looked VERY intriguing.And dammit, now that I've seen these - color me intrigued. But, uhh ... only if you keep the brush away from the ticklish spots, 'cuz I hate that. -Sassette IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 01:17 Oh, Katharyn, you SO rock my world. But ACK! I've been waiting to see this story show up, because the sidestep stuff in the beginnings cycle looked VERY intriguing.And dammit, now that I've seen these - color me intrigued. But, uhh ... only if you keep the brush away from the ticklish spots, 'cuz I hate that. -Sassette IP: LoggedLeatherQueenCool Monster Fighter
Posts: 148
Registered: Oct 2001 posted March 23, 2002 02:31
Dang... I can't wait to see how you're going to bring Willow back. Such a wonderful story and it's completely drawn me in. And I absolutely LOVE being able to see in to Vamp Willow's thoughts. Crazy as they are. ------------------
"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 02:31 Dang... I can't wait to see how you're going to bring Willow back. Such a wonderful story and it's completely drawn me in. And I absolutely LOVE being able to see in to Vamp Willow's thoughts. Crazy as they are. ------------------
"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory IP: LoggedAvatar'aBlessed Wannabe
Posts: 5
Registered: Mar 2002 posted March 23, 2002 07:34
This is like finding an exciting new book to read...Without the added temptation of peeking at the ending...Movin' in for the duration. ------------------
Eternity has no favorites. IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 07:34 This is like finding an exciting new book to read...Without the added temptation of peeking at the ending...Movin' in for the duration. ------------------
Eternity has no favorites. IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 23, 2002 08:27
Sassette - glad you found this and coming from someone writing with your deft touch I appreciate the compliment all the more... but ticklish???Leather Queen - The 'how' is answered next - posting tomorrow as we skip to Season 4. Karma, as you will find out again and again, is a bitch in this reality... Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 08:27 Sassette - glad you found this and coming from someone writing with your deft touch I appreciate the compliment all the more... but ticklish???Leather Queen - The 'how' is answered next - posting tomorrow as we skip to Season 4. Karma, as you will find out again and again, is a bitch in this reality... Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: LoggedBrynnDoll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 118
Registered: Sep 2001 posted March 23, 2002 10:06
This is so great! I love stories that are so ambitious! I will stick with this to the end. Thanks Kathryn![This message has been edited by xita (edited March 31, 2002).] IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 10:06 This is so great! I love stories that are so ambitious! I will stick with this to the end. Thanks Kathryn![This message has been edited by xita (edited March 31, 2002).] IP: LoggedkatydidWillowhand
Posts: 314
Registered: Sep 2001 posted March 23, 2002 11:50
Wow....this story is just so great. I love the detailed look into Tara's past....and VampWillow....yummy. I can't wait until the girls actually meet up. ------------------
"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass. IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 11:50 Wow....this story is just so great. I love the detailed look into Tara's past....and VampWillow....yummy. I can't wait until the girls actually meet up. ------------------
"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass. IP: LoggedPixieSassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 posted March 23, 2002 19:14
Wow! I can't think of the appropriate praise and superlatives, right now (my brain is a bit mushy) so...here! *Pixie tosses a pair of panties at Katharyn's feet.*IP: Logged posted March 23, 2002 19:14 Wow! I can't think of the appropriate praise and superlatives, right now (my brain is a bit mushy) so...here! *Pixie tosses a pair of panties at Katharyn's feet.*IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 24, 2002 02:34
Part 5 Kittens... We are up to season 4 now and the real story can start to be told.Enjoy
K
------------ Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling I (Part 5)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Now the story can really get moving – the scene is set… time to play. The Return of Willow. Dead, twice-ish, but never quite forgotten. Set during the time that would have been the beginning of “Hush” in the prime Buffy reality – i.e. the night after Buffy’s dream about the girl with the box and the Wicca Group. I’m sure you all remember that episode right? I think it marked the start of a lot of people’s devotion to a certain couple.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Not just yet – but hey give me chance – oh right you did that already…
Notes: The Wicca Group in this fic is the one that was shown in “Hush” though obviously without W & T. I have taken the liberty of naming some members and altering some situations. In this reality, four years into the Master’s reign in Sunnydale the Wicca Group is less about bake sales and more about survival.
Also remember that certain things have not occurred in this reality… Switcheroo…
Thanks To: All those readers who have managed to accept the darkness I present and are sticking with this. I’ll do my best to ensure that you keep enjoying it. Jo, Kerry, Louise… as always.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling I By Katharyn Rosser
The circle was finally completed with the arrival of Carole and Anne. They all been kept waiting long enough. The collective impatient sigh was more than audible. It hung in the air.
“Sorry we’re late.” Carole apologised for them both, “The softball team memorial bake sale ran over and then we had to help tidy up…” Broken down bus and the whole softball team had been killed. She hated this town. She fell silent as she noticed the look on the faces of the rest of the group and most particularly the dark expression on the face of the one who had become the defacto leader. Carole still wasn't sure quite how that happened. Maybe it was magic. It sure wasn't charisma. Maybe it was fear. It made her slightly better to feel that her rightful organisational position had been usurped due to everyone being terrified. Sometimes that leader was scary… she just got this look and it was like looking right down into hell. But there was no way to argue with her power. In fact nobody argued with her power because nobody wanted to spend the rest of the meeting doing something embarrassing at which the others could laugh – rats had been known. And sometimes… sometimes it might have been worse than that. Sometimes group members had disappeared. But no one wanted to think about that much… they just all took a collective, unspoken, decision to shut up and bear it, Carole thought. Because they needed her to keep themselves alive in Sunnydale. “You know that curfew is just a couple of hours away,” one of the others protested as they sat down in their assigned spaces and picked up the spell ingredients that had been left in front of their mats. “What about the rest of us? We come here to try and make things better and all you can worry about is bake sales?” “Yeah,” another agreed, irritated too but mainly picking up on the mood of the group – which was set by just one person… and that person wasn't either Carole or Anne. “Sorry,” Carole apologised again. “Sorry,” her fellow latecomer added, thoroughly cowed, and wishing that she were matriculating anywhere but Sunnydale. Anywhere where power was being popular, rather than being able to protect yourself from vampires and other beasts that killed you in the night. “Enough now okay. Just enough,” the group’s unofficial leader instructed. No one had ever given her that role. She had just turned up one day and taken it from Carole and Anne. Turned them away from fundraising and towards the magic arts. No one who had any interest in actual Wicca had any protests… even Carole and Anne had sort of come around to the power that they were demonstrating nowadays. Even if it was only in the group… not individually. Doing the same thing alone… didn’t work. For any of them. It was power that had definitely helped them though. They might be five miles away from town here, but the student mortality rate was still shocking – even before the Softball team. But now, thanks to the newcomer, they all had wards in their rooms, protection against some creatures and they had been working at a more general ward to protect the entire campus proper. No one was even sure if it was possible, but if they could pull that off... Actually there was one person there who knew exactly what was possible and what was not – knew that those spells they all liked so much were insignificant if you could just make things happen. Now that was power. Unfortunately some spells kicked your ass – mentally and physically… And that was why she needed this shower of wannabe’s. Wiccan wannabe’s no less. Just save me from goody, goody Wiccans and find me a real witch. Actually this town wasn’t big enough for more than one witch… she thought. They would do what they were told and then they would die. It was a natural progression and nature was sooo important to them all. “Now, do we have the remaining spell ingredients?” she asked them, though she wouldn’t be shocked if they had forgotten or picked up the wrong sort of bat’s legs. Fruit bats weren’t going to cut it here. “Yes,” one of the more talented members, Diane, waved a bunch of herbs in the air. Before her were arrayed a number of bottles. It might even be a shame to see Diane die. Not enough of a shame to stop it from happening though. “Then lets get to it,” she instructed as their leader, the cowl pulled up over her head as usual, her face shrouded in the shadows it created. They all thought they knew her name. They all knew her face. But for some reason she insisted on hiding that during the working of their arts. Carole raised her hand. “Er sorry… get on with what?” The robed young woman looked at Carole, wondering why it was that she had been instructed to work with such… amateurs. Her employers could so easily have secured professional services to achieve their aims – she could have arranged it herself but her instructions had been very clear on the subject. On the appointed day, this day, she was perform a calling. Just not the calling that this bunch of… Wiccans had in mind. Play nice, she told herself adjusting the large cross that hung around her neck beneath the robe. Just for a few more minutes. “The Spirit of the Tree” she lied to them. “After all wood kills the vampires, this will help us better manipulate the wood for our defence and the defence of others.” The idea was actually sound. It was always better to bury a lie in the truth. If they had known anything though they would have realised that such a spell would be so far beyond the power of this group that they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Not without her boosting them as she had been doing for weeks now. And if she was going to boost them again… it was for her own ends. What a bunch of ignorant fools. When she had found them they had been nothing. And they still were nothing. She was quite proud of that. She’d given them enough of a taste of power to keep them coming back but stopped any of them from getting… too powerful. There might even be one or two who had a sniff of the talent. Just a sniff mind, but she’d kept them on ritual based magic. They couldn’t begin to touch her spontaneous use of magic. Just in case one of them proved to be more than a nothing. You never could tell… But soon they would just be… what? Breakfast… for the thing that she was truly calling into their circle. All she had to do was prevent herself becoming part of that meal and live to collect her payment. Nothing tricky then… “Which tree Amy?” Anne asked. “The willow tree,” she replied finding the lie quickly and easily. Not that a Willow would provide the best quality stakes. The wood was not ideal. Didn’t they see that? “Cool…” came the collected replies as she smiled encouragingly at them from beneath the cowl. ------------ The destruction and death had been quite educational to watch. Educational and kinda fun. Drained by the severe demands of the spell many of the group had collapsed as the portal to places beyond closed once more. It was like the sucking air dragged the energy from them and back to that place they were bringing their objective from. A place of nothingness. But they soon found a very good reason to get up and move. Their leader couldn’t remember ever seeing anything quite like it. It, the creature they had summoned, had been confused at first, almost babbling as it was demanding answers from the corpses it had in its hands and scattered at its feet. Bodies soon lay strewn around the meeting room. Some were drained, others were just twisted and broken shells of the young women they had once been. As the instigator – knowing what was likely to happen - she had remained calm and silent taking in the sights, the terrible sounds. The snarls, the screams, the sucking of blood from slashed arteries. The thing was very hungry and not just for blood. The stench of death was all around her and she felt blood spatter her robe, some on her face. But she did not move. If she did, if she presented a target, then she would join them in death. But remaining here, calm, silent, motionless… the vampire, as she had been promised, avoided her and went for the moving targets first. And then at last with every one of the Wicca Group dead around her the vampire seemed to be sated. In its hunger at least. Just because it had filled itself up with the young women didn’t mean that she was any safer though. The questions it had been asking of their shattered and dying bodies still remained unanswered. She had avoided the vampire’s fury. Expecting what had occurred she had deliberately chosen dark coloured clothing and given her fellows little magical pushes into the waiting vampire’s arms – keeping the red head occupied and, more importantly, away from her. She had been warned about this time… this most deadly time. Something recalled from nothingness… from that place in-between… was not going to react well to sensory overload back in the world. Let alone hunger. And once there was no one but her left… then the danger was still far from over. There was just her and the vampire, which stood once more in the centre of what had been the circle, regarding her with curiosity. It was wondering why perhaps, like any sensible person, she hadn’t unlocked the meeting room door and fled. And there were those eyes… they burned into her like a yellow fire reading her soul until there was nothing left to hide. So she could not even be surprised when it calmly walked over to her and addressed her. “You’re not what you say you are…” the red-headed vampire took and caressed her hand. That was actually the most worrying thing to Amy. After the initial blood lust had faded she had watched as the vampire toyed with some of her later victims. And it didn’t seem to be just killing play. But she was under instructions… She was not to do anything that might endanger that which they, she, had summoned. Besides the effort, though channelled through the now dead wiccans, had drained her a lot too. “No I’m not,” she told it. “You don’t belong where you are,” the vampire observed, not sounding sure of what it was saying, as if relying on instinct but wondering why it couldn’t believe its eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion… mine is that I am right where I belong.” The fingers were at her neck now… fingers that she had seen tear open a throat before the still bloodstained lips drank from the gaping wound. “You’re not afraid of me?” The vampire sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed. It dropped its hand from her and closed its eyes, head swaying gently as if listening to some tune. “There are worse things than you”’ she finally replied and that was the truth. Besides she had backup, provided by a whole firm of things that were way worse than this vampire ever could be. “You brought me back,” it said, figuring it out. The vampire remembered dying then. That was crucial, they had been told, that it should know that it had died – that she couldn’t just lift it from one reality before that death occurred. That it should feel gratitude to her for her efforts. And if it asked she should tell it the truth. Always the truth. The truth, they had said, is your ally. She didn’t know about that. Lies had always served her pretty well too. But it didn’t ask anything anyway. Amy simply nodded in response to the original question, not about to volunteer information that might be poorly received. That was all she had to keep her alive. She knew that her life hung in the balance, held there precariously by factors beyond her control. If the vampire decided to drain her, snap her neck or anything else there would be no time to defend herself or for her backup to come to her aid. Where was that backup anyway? But she was hoping that the vampire would realise… perhaps even feel some gratitude for what they had done. Of course it had to appreciate the world it was in to do that. “Then you should be rewarded.” It looked down, saw her fingers making almost instinctive gestures, completing a spell that would carry this thing far away from her. But she didn’t have the juice left… she was too far-gone and needed to rest, recover. Maybe pay a visit and pay the price of a supercharge. Was this what she was reduced to she wondered? Unable to complete a job because she was afraid… but the spell had not worked anyway… She looked into the vampire’s soul. Beyond the dangerous surface emotions, looking for something… a shred of lingering humanity. A morsel of mercy that might be dealt her way…. The soul itself. But there was nothing in this one. Nothing but… “Your fingers aren’t working…? Awww… Mine are,” it told her. The vampire interlaced its fingers with hers. The grip was incredibly strong between fingers that seemed so delicate. It held their hand up between them as if remembering… something. It was an almost gentle gesture, which had some meaning to the vampire. Or seemed to. The vampire started to squeeze, watching her carefully as she squeezed until the witch was sure the bones in her fingers would be snapped. The pain was so bad that she couldn’t even start to bring a spell to her mind. Even if she had could manage it… she was under specific instructions... ‘no magical damage.’ She had tried to violate that instruction – out of fear – but couldn’t. She remembered that that now. What they would do to her for breaking the terms of the contract was much, much worse than having her hand hurt. But what if it killed her? She looked towards the door where she knew her backup should have been. Gave the tiniest nod. They had made allowances for this happening. She contained her pain and managed to limit its expression to a soft whimper. That seemed to impress the vampire though it did not slacken the grip. But it didn’t get any stronger either. Constant pressure. Constant pain. It seemed to like it that way. Then the vampires other hand shot out sideways, without looking and grabbed something that could not be seen. Her backup. Marcie. From the immediate sounds of choking it must have taken Marcie by the throat, squeezing her as tightly as it was squeezing her hand and tiny cuts opened up on that hand as Marcie must have struggled to free herself. ------------- Willow had the other by the throat, had sensed her enemy’s approach after the witch had nodded. A strange witch this one. Not that she had met any others before. But she was strange all the same. She wasn’t who she should be. Displaced. Wrong. But better for it. What was wrong was just sooo right. She squeezed with both of her hands intending to pop the head from the invisible one – some thing she couldn’t see but human by the feel and smell of it. Not to mention the choking sounds. It really might have been fun to see if its blood or its innards were also invisible. She could hear it all though. The slight cracking of cartilage. The grind of bone against bone. Such sweet music. And the smell of fear… she’d missed that so much she hardly even noticed the half-moon cuts on her hand and fingers. There had been no sound where she had been before but it wasn't silent. There had been no sight but it wasn't just black. No smell… She didn’t like where she had been even if it was for just a few days… or a thousand years… of dreams. And if these two had brought her back then… they still should die. That was who she was. She was a killer. But she was also confused… so she did not squeeze either any harder. It was…right and it was wrong. This was her place. Now that she could sense once more she could feel that this was her place. Somewhere she should have been. She could smell it. The resigned terror amongst her waking meals was familiar. They knew what she was and they feared her for it. They knew their place. Not like that other, soft, bad place full of fuzzy pink versions of herself. Living ones. Ugghh. Holding this hand like that though? Why was she doing that? She was doing it now to cause pain… but why hold the hand like that in the first place. Because, something told her, that was what you did with a witch. That was how you did hold her hand. But she had never known a witch… never. So how did she know that and what sort of stupid truth was it anyway? ‘That was how you held a witches hand’? It was going round and round in her head and she didn’t like it – it was just like the dreams… getting in the way of what she was. Had she dreamt about the hands? The hands, like that. Holding. The rush of power through her as she knew that she could… Could what? She didn’t know. The only thing that she knew was that she was safe. Safe? Why safe? No something… she was remembering things that she had never done. Never done. Not yet. Thinking? Remembering? Dreaming? What was going on? A waking dream again. And that face in the dreams… overlaid on the face of this witch. The face of something that was hers… just made it clearer that this one wasn’t. ------------- “You’re not mine,” the vampire said to her. Amy had to agree with that, whimpered again as the vampire squeezed once more, then released her hand and the relief that swept through her as fast as the blood into her hand was bliss. It released Marcie a second later and she must have collapsed to the floor. The witch hoped the young woman was not dead… her employers would not be impressed at the loss of that asset. Even to acquire this new one they obviously so valued. Reduced to a whimper! The shame of it…but what the lawyers had paid her… with an oh-so-valuable ‘detayat’, the little trinket which would allow her to take and retain a body as required. Moving with ease to others, and back or keeping one indefinitely. When they had told her that they had one… she would have done this for just money, but for one of those rare treasures… That was definitely worth the effort and a little pain. Or even a lot. She would have taken much more for that reward. She could always vacate the ‘premises’ and allow someone else to do the recuperating for her. But she was glad she didn’t have to. She had a hot date with a cute guy tomorrow and she knew this body so well now that she didn’t want to have leave it before that. The vampire looked at her again, rejecting her mentally and then made for locked door of the room. Marcie had the key, she knew that. But it didn’t bother with the lock at all, just wrenching the door off its hinges and striding out into its world once more. She just hoped that Wolfram and Hart regarded this as a success… otherwise she wasn't sure that either this, or the body of her birth, would be a safe place for her now. A Madison reduced to a whimper… ------------- “So the matter is concluded satisfactorily?” Lilah checked as Holland listened over the speakerphone. The report was nothing like that which she would have ordinarily required of personnel working for her, but that was what you got for sub-contracting. It was absolutely necessary in this to have a cut-out. There could be no clear route back to Wolfram and Hart. Not for this. Not so soon anyway. One day they would make their involvement clear – in fact she understood that it would be crucial. But not just yet. “If satisfactory includes having no feeling in my hand and that invisible woman you sent me being unconscious for two hours then I would say so,” the witch was not impressed by that, having recovered from her previous relief at actually being alive at all. “You were both notified of the risks. Marcie is going to be alright?” Lilah asked with a professional concern. They had invested a lot in that young woman after salvaging her from that government program. A lot of time, a lot of retraining. Though this case had been a little out of her area of expertise. “She’s conscious and talking. I did what I could. Tricky when she is invisible. But yes the spell worked. Another vampire is loose in Sunnydale.” “Excellent.” Holland smiled at her, nodding his own satisfaction. “We appreciate your consideration for Marcie, Ms Madison and there will be a bonus to your payment. We will have that payment delivered to you in the next few hours as agreed. Will that be satisfactory?” There was just silence from the other end of the line – though the call had not been terminated. “Hello? Ms Madison?” For her part, on the other end of the line she was trying to speak, but when she opened her mouth nothing emerged but air. Not even a croak. Her voice had not just gone it had disappeared entirely. Lilah ended the call. The operation had been a success, payment had been arranged. She didn’t need to know anything else about the witch or her body swapping activities. Nor about her being cut off. Strange though. But hardly a problem. Perhaps the witch had been eaten. Shame but payment would still be sent. It was in the contract of course. She shrugged. “Lost her?” Holland asked. “So it seems. Oh well. Drink?” she offered. Things were starting to come together. One back in the game and on the board. The other never out of it but still not quite there yet. “Thank you,” Holland accepted the offered beverage. “Here’s to you continuing to make such excellent progress.” She tipped her glass to him. ********** Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged Charlie
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 175
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 09:38
Katharyn, this is just brilliant. You have me totally hooked. I went back and read the Beginning Cycle and absolutely loved that as well, but this is the best thing I've ever read on the board. Its completely original, unemotionally written and you handle you characters and plot with absolute skill. And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen IP: Logged | Tiggrscorpio
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 12:20
Damn, Katharyn! Evil Amy, viscious Willow and a (non)appearance by Marcie. This story just gets better and better. Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged | emily 'first'
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 221
Registered: Oct 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 17:17
KatharynThis is just so exciting...I'm wriggling with glee!! Oh,yeh...It's looking to be a damn good story too... ------------------
There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps... vive,valeque. IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 25, 2002 13:42
quote:
Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?
Sort of glad that you can smile... as I said Karma is a bitch in this fic - this isn't the last time this sort of thing might happen. quote:
Originally posted by Charlie:
Its completely original, unemotionally written ... And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!
You can't ever have too much ass sucking... can you? Unemotionally written... mmmmn. I guess that is the appearance on the page. Part of me was screaming at me the whole time just to make it "nicer." Actually I have succumbed to that temptation. Believe me the original draft of the parts you have seen so far were much darker - uneccessarily so and defeating the object. The fic became, in that version, about the darkness and overcoming darkness. That is not the point at all... as I keep saying it is the journey. Also that lack of emotion was a big part of my angst about whether this was suitable for Pens. Ultimately the final destination swayed me. Where it goes is definitely an okay place to be. Thanks for the feedback kittens... it means alot. Part 6(?) posts tomorrow at about 19.00 GMT - not that I think you are hanging on tenterhooks! Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 02:42
Part 6 Kittens... earlier than planned but I amnot sure whether I will be around tonight to post it. This one is all Willow, again not especially nice, a direct follow on to Part 5. Next we go back to Tara and find out what gets her to Sunnydale... Enjoy K --------- Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling II (Currently Part 6)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Willow is back… but this is “Hush,” remember? Not conditional on Buffy ever being in Sunnydale (as was pointed out to me,) so there are things a vampire has to do… And just because she’s back, don’t mean she’s at all nice…
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Wait until the next part… then you’ll be able to see it coming.
Notes: The three “Calling” parts, is not strictly in line with the canon timeline. Some things move faster, some slower. Live with it!
Thanks To: The usual suspects…. All the readers, the kittens, the mods, Jo, Kerry, Louise who all had their own parts to play in this fic.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling II By Katharyn Rosser
As Willow made her way from the college campus into town she knew that she was truly home once more. The streets were still alive with the sounds of imminent death. The screams the lovely, lovely screams. Piercing, warbling, undulating. Cries of agony, simple pain. Terror. Whatever it was, she drank it all in. You’d think that the humans would learn to stay home… But they never did. Dumb. It was good to be back home and out of the nothingness. No more freaky realities where the Slayers and the White Hats ruled…. Her old self, the weak little girl, the human… she would have liked to puzzle it out… about the realities. What sort of stupid place was it where she had never become? But, actually, she just couldn’t seem to care about that right now. White Hats had killed her. Twice now – sort of. And she wasn't about to forget that either. She would have her fun with them. As she and Xander should have done long, long ago. They had played games for far too long when they should have been wiping the do-gooders from the face of the Master’s world. But you could have fun whilst being serious too. ‘Whistle while you work,’ she thought as a shrill cry rang out… Not quite a whistle but just what she wanted to hear. Close by… Xander… he was all gone too. All gone. To find him there in that freak show, warm and breathing. It stirred those old memories that lived on inside of her of the time when she had been like her other self. The other self that had been sooo tempting. Now there was fun. It would have been better than any mirror could have been. She missed mirrors. She had never thought much about them when she was human… but there was something about them. Something special. It had been like looking in one meeting the fuzzy her… But having fun with yourself –and the mirror image still being another person as well. Maybe a little confusing but she could have concentrated. Kept track if she had to… definitely a unique opportunity for playing. Shame it had gone by unrealised – just a little teasing grope… Shame. Still she was home now. In the world where every night was playtime. Where she and hers ruled that night. Where the world had fallen into the proper order of things. That was Darwinism wasn't it…? She remembered that too. Survival of the fittest. It was only right… why should the prey rule the predator? It was freaky and unnatural that other Sunnydale. Home again, home again… Good nights in Sunnydale… But what was that home like now? It was similar, but things had also changed. And when was home now? How long had she been away… what had happened here? Where was the Master? The Slayer could not have gotten him… he was far too powerful to be killed by just a Slayer… he had seen dozen of them come for him and not one… not one had ever staked him… and she knew that if one had… there were ways. She was entrusted with that knowledge. She, Xander, Luke and Darla… alone amongst all his servants were his favourites. Xander was gone… Darla had long ago disappeared. Which was a very good thing… That just left her and dear Luke… who wasn't exactly the brightest orange in the apple tree. When the day came… she would rule at the right hand of the Master. Funny though… it didn’t make her glad to know that. Besides she had been gone. Things had moved on without her – they were bound to have - and it wasn't fair. There might even be another favourite in the Master’s court. And that… that did anger her. She’d have to do something about that… She had missed things. She didn’t know just what yet, but there were bound to have been things. She caught a stray sheet of newspaper that was blowing across her path. It raged about the continued deaths in Sunnydale, demanding to know what the Mayor was doing about it. He was still here then. All she cared about though was that it showed that the world was more than a year older than when she had left it. In some ways it seemed like yesterday, and in others it was a thousand years. The great, much anticipated, day in the factory had been and gone and the cattle of Sunnydale were still here. The world was not yet a haven for vampires… with the humans rounded up in pens for blood and all the other needs they could help fulfil. The town though… it was still what it had been. Hers. But they had forgotten her. She had come across a vampire as he sucked at the neck of a sweet young woman. And he had looked up at her and not known who she was. He had challenged her when she tried to take the woman from him… just for a taste. He should have been glad to share… she was the Master’s favourite. So she had broken his extremities then drunk from the tender vessel. But the woman was… he had tainted her and so she just dropped the human still alive, if barely. Spoiled goods. Besides she was still all-full and warm from all that witchy goodness she had feaster on. He, the vampire, though knew who she was now and the word would spread. It would get back to the Master that his Willow was back. They would all know. The Master would welcome her… and the rest would hate and fear her. As it should be. She would make sure of it. She had a lot of tension to work off. Dying so much had filled her with tension and a desire to… live out her desires. Still sated from her culling of the herd of wannabe witches nothing appealed to her as she walked slowly into town from the campus, drinking in the atmosphere of fear and hatred. But she knew that she had to announce her presence in the best way possible. She had to let them all know that Willow was back to play. Back for good. And that she was still the same as she had been. That death had not changed her. That she was still worthy of sitting at the Master’s right hand come the ‘glorious’ day. Even though she wasn't sure just what made it so glorious. They already ruled Sunnydale… what point ruling a world you could never see and taste. Maybe a few more towns to play in… but the world? What was the point? She didn’t know why that witch had recalled her. She had hinted that there was a purpose behind it. That there was some greater reason for it all... and she had sacrificed all those others for that reason. But Willow was way too bored with even thinking about it to care what that might be. She was back and she would not fulfil their purpose for her unless it was also her purpose. Just her own needs. That was what being dead was all about – you lived for others. Once you died it was all for yourself. She needed a good, lingering kill, to motivate herself and bring her back to the old ways. Stop all this thinking and just get back to doing. It was like she had been tainted by her pink, fuzzy, other self. She shuddered and then she spied the victim she would bless, looking about herself nervously outside a store, waiting for something, and looking with even greater anxiety at the old church opposite. Who cared what concerned it exactly… The concerns of humans ended when the sun went down. After dark they were just cattle and playthings. Actually before dark that was kinda true too… you just had to be more careful. But in general daylight sucked. Boring… Good job it was night time and that the hated sun would not rise behind her for many, many hours… hours she would spend teasing her new plaything. Working up an appetite. Killing was all very well and blood… well she had more than enough of already, but just tasting the hint of the rich fear within her stolen victim had awakened a need. It had been so long since she had really played. They wouldn’t let her be long enough in that freaky world to do anything much… But she was home now. And who was there even to play with but the humans? The puppy was long since dust. Perhaps he had been called back too… No. Who would waste their energies of bringing that soul-riddled excuse for a vampire back into this wonderfully macabre world? No one would even notice he was gone… except for her. She had liked to pass the daylight hours causing him pain. She trotted over to the young woman on the corner, looking about herself as if she too was a human fearing the attack of an undead fiend. A kindred spirit caught in the night with no one to protect her. The woman would cling to her out of fear… and Willow would drink it up. Perhaps being dead for so long would have its advantages. They wouldn’t know who she was. The human noticed her approach quickly and started to move away but then was convinced by her act and relaxed, waving her over with a sense of urgency. “You too huh?” the human woman said to her. Small, blonde haired. Reminding Willow just a little of that Slayer that had killed Xander but looking older. Mid to late twenties. The resemblance though, that would make the kill all the sweeter. It was the least that she could do for him… playtime in his memory… after all she had no intention of doing anything more. Not for him anyway. “Me? Yes. Me too.” She nodded fervently, remembering how she had used to be… once upon a time. Naïve… innocent and afraid. “You saw them?” the woman asked. Actually she might have been thirty or so, but Sunnydale was hard on humans. They aged quickly. Perhaps it was all the undead that remained as young and pretty as the day they died. Perhaps they piled their aging on the humans that remained. Call it stress, anxiety. Who cared? Maybe the universe just wanted to balance the books. Boring philosophy… moving on now. “Them? Them. Yes. Definitely them,” Willow said. “Who are they?” “I can see them moving. You see?” The blonde pointed over the street at the church, abandoned as long as Willow could remember even from her living days in the town. Willow moved behind her then followed the finger. The church was lit. Shadows moved within the boarded up windows. Perhaps only in Sunnydale could you discount the homeless as being the cause of that. This morsel was right something was in there… and it terrified the human. The fear was nice enough but it wasn’t fair if it wasn't fear of her. It was definitely second best and Willow had never wanted to settle for second best. Not in anything… She grasped the pointing finger as if to draw it back and stop the revealing gesture from giving them away, but instead ran her own finger up the human woman’s bare arm, from finger to elbow and upwards. But in her fear the woman did not even notice her touch. Or had more to worry about. No fair. “You’re cold,” Willow told her, “What are you doing out?” “I- I’m waiting for, I mean I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, then I saw them,” the woman whispered. “What’s your name?” Willow asked twirling her finger along the upper arm, underneath it to the softer flesh. “Sarah” the morsel replied. “What are you doing?” it finally asked her. “Just saying hello Sarah.” Willow’s hand found the soft armpit and lingered there, provoking a reaction at last as Sarah clamped that arm down upon the fingers as they made for the edge of her top. “Hello.” But she still wasn’t even looking at Willow. She was still looking across the street. Willow’s attention though was firmly on the neck of Sarah which she bent to lick, thrusting her hand into the young woman’s top wondering whether she would finally object. It was hard to care what the morsel was so fixated on that would distract her from the attentions she was receiving. Finally a real reaction. Sarah’s eyes left the church and as Willow heard a whispering sound the woman looked into her true demonic face. She smiled back knowing the effect it would have and Sarah opened her mouth to let out a scream. But nothing came out. Sarah tried again. There was nothing there. But the screams, the pleas, they were the best bit, Willow thought to herself. Come on Sarah let me hear you scream. She said those words… and heard nothing from herself either. She could still hear the sounds of the town… but not a shout. Not a word. Nor a scream. The humans. The vampires. All had fallen silent. Willow knew then that she could hear, but that she, like Sarah, had fallen silent. It was no fun if they didn’t scream. You couldn’t play if you couldn’t take advantage of all your senses… that was why she had never much liked gags and blindfolds. Too limiting. Across the street the church door opened. Securing her grip on Sarah who, if anything, was even more frantic at the movement of the door, she looked over at what emerged and Willow was immediately fascinated. New things were always fun and these were very new. Or they might be very old… Lifting the human woman off her feet with the arm that was hooked under her chin she moved her bodily forward towards the lurching figures that had emerged. Straitjackets… she had never tried those. They fell into the whole blindfold and gag thing as being limiting… but she guessed that she could use them… And behind those lurching things… what? ---------------- Willow had never seen their like. The rattling of the straps on the straitjackets tinkled like music and the footfalls of the minions were heavy and flat. Moving like apes across the tarmac towards her. Some went by, others clustered around her, as she looked back to the far more interesting… floaty things. The lurchers seemed to be waiting for orders… they neither attacked nor ignored her. The floaty things, human in shape but soooo obviously not human at all. Maybe they had been once. Just like her. And from their smiles they, like her, were glad to no longer be one of the throng of lowly cattle. Permanent smiles… and good teeth. Teeth any vampire would be proud have… They didn’t have to be pointed to rip our throats – just razor sharp. Sarah was wild now, struggling, kicking and clawing at Willow’s arm. She would be all bruised by the time she went to bed in the morning – wherever that was, perhaps this Sarah’s house would do – just until she got back into the Master’s graces. Pretty patterns on her arms. They would be bloody where desperate fingernails scraped her cold, dead, flesh back. She would bear the scars of this night and it had been so long since that had happened that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Waking up with a reminder of what had gone on the night before. That was strange. She knew that she had played shortly before her death…but she also was aware of the time that she had just not been. So long. She would bear the scars and Sarah wouldn’t. Sarah wouldn’t be anything by the time Willow bothered to notice them. The woman was right to feel fear but these things were not her problem. Willow was. But first she wanted to hear Sarah beg, cry and promise to be good for her. She wanted to hear Sarah scream and at the end as her teeth bit into that supple neck, or ripped open those wrists, she would want to hear Sarah moan. Till then Sarah was safe enough with her. I’ll be like a White Hat and protect her. Just for a little while. Being as she didn’t need to feed, she intended to enjoy herself. There was no need to hurry and she knew that these… whatever they were… were responsible for spoiling her playtime. Taking the screams away. Sun wouldn’t be up for a long while. She had time to find a place to shelter from its burning kiss. Sarah would never see that place though. Another heel struck her shins, stinging. Mmmmn. She was totally surrounded now with the loping creatures. They too looked as if they might have been human once. What had brought them to what they were now she didn’t care. The floaty grinning things were what she was concerned about. Two pairs had already set off in different directions along the road. Two remained at the door of the church and two were facing her and Sarah. She loosened her grip on the human woman as they examined the two of them and allowed Sarah to stand on her own feet. The human seemed to understand that right now Willow was not the greatest immediate threat to her life. Though Willow was absolutely certain that she would be again. There was play to be had. The grinning things looked at each other, tilting their heads as if silently communicating and asking each other for an opinion, then looked back at Willow once more. Tipped their heads once more then shook them and turned their attention to Sarah, terrified in her arms and if anything their grins widened and one gave an effete point at the human as the other nodded. Willow might not be able to hear the human but she could certainly smell the increase in her fear. She could feel the heat of it on Sarah’s skin in the loose embrace that she still maintained. The sweat on the flesh making it clammy. Her reaction to the odour was something akin to how she had, as a human, reacted to the smell of freshly baked donuts. With jelly in the mix. It was delicious… as if she would let this go. They wanted Sarah. She could see it. The lurching things could see it and closed in their ring. And Sarah could see it, tried to break free and make for the tiny gap that remained in that circle. Willow’s arm though was like a steel bar over her throat. There was no pressure until Sarah tried to escape from it… and found it would not move at all. Willow jerked her back against her so that Sarah fell off her feet and was supported only by resting against Willow’s body and by that taut arm. Willow started to stroke Sarah’s cheek, pleased to find that the gesture set off new tremors through Sarah. Fear was a beautiful thing, it would jump around from source to source. Perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever sensed. She could smell it. She could taste it. She could feel it, see it and when things were working right she could hear it. She wanted to hear it. It wasn’t fair. She had been so long without playing and now one of her senses was being all deprived by these things. Stroking Sarah’s cheek she allowed herself to revert to her vampiric visage and smiled as sweetly as she was able to with the impediments it put on her… right at the grinning things, which of course returned her smile. What choice did they have? It might have been centuries since their expressions had said anything else. Maybe they never had. Perhaps they had slipped into being like that from nothing? Created from the minds of the fearful. Who cared… bored with the whole thing now. She wanted to play now. Willow didn’t fear them. Sarah was hers and she wanted to hear her scream and moan before and during the kill. After was when silence was acceptable. Only after. She snarled at them. It was a silent snarl of course but how could they miss her intent. She would rip them all apart if she had to. The human was hers. Not theirs. She had never given up a kill to anyone but the Master… and never, ever one of her little toys. She had no idea what they were but what did that matter compared to the kill and playtime? Let them have the rest of Sunnydale. They might even settle a few scores for her. This one was hers though. They looked at each other, then back at Willow and gave her the tiniest little nod before silently floating away from her. The lurching things rattling and slapping their feet as they ambled away before them and in their wake, and in seconds all was quiet. And with them gone Willow stretched out with her own senses, ignoring Sarah’s panicked breathing and the wheezes that rang in her ears but still no words or cries. It wasn't the floaty things themselves that were making everything so quiet. She didn’t get that impression. There was something else. Willow started to listen. She had always been good at that… and some of the time she still had the patience for it. Listening for just where their voices had gone. Surely there was some trace… and to a vampire’s senses there was. The tiniest of whispers… in the old church. Where else but the place they had come from? And if Sarah’s voice was in there then she just had to get it back for her. Otherwise it would all be spoilt and no fun. ---------------- The entrance was empty, revealing just the disused state of the building. And oh look… no crosses to get in the way either. Someone had been so thoughtful in removing them. Maybe the floaty things didn’t like them either… any god certainly wouldn’t like those grins. At least the kind of god that had churches and synagogues and mosques built for them… Perhaps those evil hell gods the Master talked of? Maybe they would appreciate those grinning things a little more. The floorboards creaked though, betraying the presence of the lurchy thing upstairs. It must have been them – only they were touching the ground. Now… Just the precise amount of pressure on dear Sarah’s throat… right there. The woman was unconscious and now the main course could commence before she was ready, she looked at the peaceful Sarah, for dessert. To all the proper audio accompaniments. She supposed she might have triggered some silent alarm as she went up the stairs because as she emerged at the top they were there waiting for her. The workings of the clock were arrayed before her. On a table beneath it several jars and containers. Which they were trying no doubt to keep her from – despite all being empty. Important to them? Not important to Willow. She just wanted Sarah’s voice back. She dropped the woman to the floor beside her and the briefly the things in the straitjackets were distracted. Not her intention but Willow was nothing if not an opportunist. She prided herself at taking the best from every situation… and playing with it. She grabbed at the filthy skull of one of them, using the weight to spin her body off and launch into a kick at the other. But keeping her arms locked, the things neck cracking as her boot connected with the other one. Mmmmn she would have to remember that one, such a lovely productive move. And I bet I looked so good doing it too… The one that she kicked was propelled backwards even as its fellow collapsed limply to the ground and from where she landed she could see the hideously charming grin of one of the suited floaters. Coming round the side of the clock machinery, waving a scalpel. It looked so sharp. Catching the light on the blade. So precise, not clumsy like a big knife. She kicked out again at the minion and felt her boot connect with its groin. Human enough for that to have an effect. She had never really played with scalpels. Knives of all descriptions – she hadn’t much liked them. Once you started out with a knife there was nowhere else to go. But never a scalpel. She would be able to do such lovely things to flesh… to skin. Delicate things… Flaying would be so much easier. To peel it back so daintily and precisely. Willow wasn’t there to fight though. She just want the human’s voice back. She just wanted Sarah to scream for her. That was all. Not so much to ask… Maybe her own voice too… She kicked the minion again, this time in the head and it snapped back with what should have been vertebrae crushing force. Dead? She didn’t particularly mind. Death held no pleasures for her except when done for the best of purposes. Artfully applied. Fulfilling some desire. Self-defence just left her feeling so empty and bored. There were better things to occupy her time. The grinning monster stopped about a metre away from her, waving its raised finger in a parody of the teacher scolding a naughty child. Which she might seem to be to it, who knew how old it was? Willow knew that she would exist forever… now that she was back… but also that she was just starting out on that infinite time. As she plucked out its eyeballs and nibbled on them it might have been interesting to listen, to force it to tell its stories. But not a one of these creatures, or their minions, had said a word and if they wouldn’t talk to her then that was just too bad. For them. They had created the silence and she didn’t like it at all. It was the sound of boredom. But the silence was not total… there was still the tiniest hint of a whisper. Less than a TV on just-above minimum volume. Less than you might hear of a conversation on the street below from the top of a tall building. But it was there. She could hear it. Murmurs, whispers. They were loudest. The talking was in the background and the faintest of all were the almost silent screams. A thousand sounds playing around her ears. But only in here. In this room. There in fact, behind her. She turned her back on the floating thing and focused her senses feeling her back being slashed with the scalpel. A deep wound that would weep the blood of many of the humans she had killed today. Another slash. The sensation… the almost subtle parting of the skin. A slash that felt more like a graze as there was so little immediate pain. The sting. The wet fabric of her clothes as the blood of the witches of UC Sunnydale soaked it. There. The box. A small, wooden, box. Unremarkable in every sense. She walked over to it, glancing over at Sarah who was already coming round. Excellent timing… it was almost time to play. She didn’t look back but felt the floating creature come closer to her, attempted to kick back at it, but failed to calculate that it was in the air and ended up stumbling… another slash striking her arms. Her top was going to be ruined. It better not do anything to her trousers though. Those would be tougher to replace… The box. It had just confirmed what she already knew. It was the box that created the silence, or enforced it. She picked it up and turned back to the creature, which had stopped dead. Waving that finger at her once more. No it was saying – in it’s own silent way. Yes she nodded. I want to hear her scream she mouthed at it… meaning Sarah. After that she didn’t much care. It might be useful to have the town silent. No actually… it would be so boring that she wouldn’t have lasted a night like that. How to open the box though? It looked simple, but even when she lifted the catch nothing happened. The lid would not lift. A puzzle box? Never mind… She wasn't big on the sanctity of the property of others or much for puzzles. If you could rip the blood from peoples’ still living bodies with a song in your heart then you didn’t tend to care about boxes and mysteries much. She looked over at Sarah who was opening her mouth to try and scream once more at the sight of her proximity to things that she thought would kill her. The head of a dead minion in her lap. The body on its back, but the head face down. Sarah was going to scream and scream and scream. Willow promised herself that. She shook the box… nothing in it but the whispers. No rattle but the whispers grew louder as she moved it closer to her head. More agitated perhaps. Wanting to be free as much as she wanted to hear them Willow smiled and the grinning thing… it couldn’t stop smiling but it was a smile that was filled with fear now. Laced with it. It was afraid of what she would do… perhaps it would scream for her too. Beg… She liked it being afraid of her. She closed fist around the box and squeezed, tighter and tighter, the loose catch digging into her flesh until someone’s blood dripped on the floor and she could hear the joints of the wood move against each other. Creaking, groaning and then starting to crack before shattering completely. The box was empty… she dropped it and stood there, idly pulling the splinters of wood from her hand. Sarah was moaning. Willow could hear that. And that was all she wanted. They could go now and find somewhere for their fun. She crossed to the quivering woman and ignored the floating thing, which was looking at the ruins of the box and seemed distracted by it’s loss. She knelt before Sarah and raised her bloody hand to her face, leaving a sticky trail of the stolen blood that she would happily lap up later – perhaps with Sarah’s own. “Isn’t that so much better Sarah?” Sarah did nothing but moan in reply, scrabbling backwards towards the steps but was held by the weight of the minion across her legs. And her fear was redirected again… which was good. “Now Willow can make you cry…” It was a promise. Sarah didn’t have to scream until the end. But she decided to start early shrieking, terrified. Willow didn’t object… fear was always so much fun. The green goo that settled across them a moment later did nothing to shut the human woman up, nor did the collapse of another body across hers. Some part of Willow, deep down, thought the reaction to the scream it was very interesting. The sonic vibrations must have set off a resonance cascade inside the grinning things skull. That was why they wanted silence… Oh well…Willow was really just interested in the screamer though. She turned back towards Sarah, which was where her real interest lay. “That was nice of you Sarah. Now we don’t have to go anywhere else at all.” She was going to feed right here, after the terror, and her hands but not the scalpel, had worked its way on Sarah. It would be a first… here in a church – but somewhere away from the goo… that would just be icky. All green and sticky. Willow preferred sticky to be blood red. ************
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged | BytrSuite
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | jessan15
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged | posted March 24, 2002 02:34 Part 5 Kittens... We are up to season 4 now and the real story can start to be told.Enjoy
K
------------ Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling I (Part 5)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Now the story can really get moving – the scene is set… time to play. The Return of Willow. Dead, twice-ish, but never quite forgotten. Set during the time that would have been the beginning of “Hush” in the prime Buffy reality – i.e. the night after Buffy’s dream about the girl with the box and the Wicca Group. I’m sure you all remember that episode right? I think it marked the start of a lot of people’s devotion to a certain couple.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Not just yet – but hey give me chance – oh right you did that already…
Notes: The Wicca Group in this fic is the one that was shown in “Hush” though obviously without W & T. I have taken the liberty of naming some members and altering some situations. In this reality, four years into the Master’s reign in Sunnydale the Wicca Group is less about bake sales and more about survival.
Also remember that certain things have not occurred in this reality… Switcheroo…
Thanks To: All those readers who have managed to accept the darkness I present and are sticking with this. I’ll do my best to ensure that you keep enjoying it. Jo, Kerry, Louise… as always.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling I By Katharyn Rosser
The circle was finally completed with the arrival of Carole and Anne. They all been kept waiting long enough. The collective impatient sigh was more than audible. It hung in the air.
“Sorry we’re late.” Carole apologised for them both, “The softball team memorial bake sale ran over and then we had to help tidy up…” Broken down bus and the whole softball team had been killed. She hated this town. She fell silent as she noticed the look on the faces of the rest of the group and most particularly the dark expression on the face of the one who had become the defacto leader. Carole still wasn't sure quite how that happened. Maybe it was magic. It sure wasn't charisma. Maybe it was fear. It made her slightly better to feel that her rightful organisational position had been usurped due to everyone being terrified. Sometimes that leader was scary… she just got this look and it was like looking right down into hell. But there was no way to argue with her power. In fact nobody argued with her power because nobody wanted to spend the rest of the meeting doing something embarrassing at which the others could laugh – rats had been known. And sometimes… sometimes it might have been worse than that. Sometimes group members had disappeared. But no one wanted to think about that much… they just all took a collective, unspoken, decision to shut up and bear it, Carole thought. Because they needed her to keep themselves alive in Sunnydale. “You know that curfew is just a couple of hours away,” one of the others protested as they sat down in their assigned spaces and picked up the spell ingredients that had been left in front of their mats. “What about the rest of us? We come here to try and make things better and all you can worry about is bake sales?” “Yeah,” another agreed, irritated too but mainly picking up on the mood of the group – which was set by just one person… and that person wasn't either Carole or Anne. “Sorry,” Carole apologised again. “Sorry,” her fellow latecomer added, thoroughly cowed, and wishing that she were matriculating anywhere but Sunnydale. Anywhere where power was being popular, rather than being able to protect yourself from vampires and other beasts that killed you in the night. “Enough now okay. Just enough,” the group’s unofficial leader instructed. No one had ever given her that role. She had just turned up one day and taken it from Carole and Anne. Turned them away from fundraising and towards the magic arts. No one who had any interest in actual Wicca had any protests… even Carole and Anne had sort of come around to the power that they were demonstrating nowadays. Even if it was only in the group… not individually. Doing the same thing alone… didn’t work. For any of them. It was power that had definitely helped them though. They might be five miles away from town here, but the student mortality rate was still shocking – even before the Softball team. But now, thanks to the newcomer, they all had wards in their rooms, protection against some creatures and they had been working at a more general ward to protect the entire campus proper. No one was even sure if it was possible, but if they could pull that off... Actually there was one person there who knew exactly what was possible and what was not – knew that those spells they all liked so much were insignificant if you could just make things happen. Now that was power. Unfortunately some spells kicked your ass – mentally and physically… And that was why she needed this shower of wannabe’s. Wiccan wannabe’s no less. Just save me from goody, goody Wiccans and find me a real witch. Actually this town wasn’t big enough for more than one witch… she thought. They would do what they were told and then they would die. It was a natural progression and nature was sooo important to them all. “Now, do we have the remaining spell ingredients?” she asked them, though she wouldn’t be shocked if they had forgotten or picked up the wrong sort of bat’s legs. Fruit bats weren’t going to cut it here. “Yes,” one of the more talented members, Diane, waved a bunch of herbs in the air. Before her were arrayed a number of bottles. It might even be a shame to see Diane die. Not enough of a shame to stop it from happening though. “Then lets get to it,” she instructed as their leader, the cowl pulled up over her head as usual, her face shrouded in the shadows it created. They all thought they knew her name. They all knew her face. But for some reason she insisted on hiding that during the working of their arts. Carole raised her hand. “Er sorry… get on with what?” The robed young woman looked at Carole, wondering why it was that she had been instructed to work with such… amateurs. Her employers could so easily have secured professional services to achieve their aims – she could have arranged it herself but her instructions had been very clear on the subject. On the appointed day, this day, she was perform a calling. Just not the calling that this bunch of… Wiccans had in mind. Play nice, she told herself adjusting the large cross that hung around her neck beneath the robe. Just for a few more minutes. “The Spirit of the Tree” she lied to them. “After all wood kills the vampires, this will help us better manipulate the wood for our defence and the defence of others.” The idea was actually sound. It was always better to bury a lie in the truth. If they had known anything though they would have realised that such a spell would be so far beyond the power of this group that they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Not without her boosting them as she had been doing for weeks now. And if she was going to boost them again… it was for her own ends. What a bunch of ignorant fools. When she had found them they had been nothing. And they still were nothing. She was quite proud of that. She’d given them enough of a taste of power to keep them coming back but stopped any of them from getting… too powerful. There might even be one or two who had a sniff of the talent. Just a sniff mind, but she’d kept them on ritual based magic. They couldn’t begin to touch her spontaneous use of magic. Just in case one of them proved to be more than a nothing. You never could tell… But soon they would just be… what? Breakfast… for the thing that she was truly calling into their circle. All she had to do was prevent herself becoming part of that meal and live to collect her payment. Nothing tricky then… “Which tree Amy?” Anne asked. “The willow tree,” she replied finding the lie quickly and easily. Not that a Willow would provide the best quality stakes. The wood was not ideal. Didn’t they see that? “Cool…” came the collected replies as she smiled encouragingly at them from beneath the cowl. ------------ The destruction and death had been quite educational to watch. Educational and kinda fun. Drained by the severe demands of the spell many of the group had collapsed as the portal to places beyond closed once more. It was like the sucking air dragged the energy from them and back to that place they were bringing their objective from. A place of nothingness. But they soon found a very good reason to get up and move. Their leader couldn’t remember ever seeing anything quite like it. It, the creature they had summoned, had been confused at first, almost babbling as it was demanding answers from the corpses it had in its hands and scattered at its feet. Bodies soon lay strewn around the meeting room. Some were drained, others were just twisted and broken shells of the young women they had once been. As the instigator – knowing what was likely to happen - she had remained calm and silent taking in the sights, the terrible sounds. The snarls, the screams, the sucking of blood from slashed arteries. The thing was very hungry and not just for blood. The stench of death was all around her and she felt blood spatter her robe, some on her face. But she did not move. If she did, if she presented a target, then she would join them in death. But remaining here, calm, silent, motionless… the vampire, as she had been promised, avoided her and went for the moving targets first. And then at last with every one of the Wicca Group dead around her the vampire seemed to be sated. In its hunger at least. Just because it had filled itself up with the young women didn’t mean that she was any safer though. The questions it had been asking of their shattered and dying bodies still remained unanswered. She had avoided the vampire’s fury. Expecting what had occurred she had deliberately chosen dark coloured clothing and given her fellows little magical pushes into the waiting vampire’s arms – keeping the red head occupied and, more importantly, away from her. She had been warned about this time… this most deadly time. Something recalled from nothingness… from that place in-between… was not going to react well to sensory overload back in the world. Let alone hunger. And once there was no one but her left… then the danger was still far from over. There was just her and the vampire, which stood once more in the centre of what had been the circle, regarding her with curiosity. It was wondering why perhaps, like any sensible person, she hadn’t unlocked the meeting room door and fled. And there were those eyes… they burned into her like a yellow fire reading her soul until there was nothing left to hide. So she could not even be surprised when it calmly walked over to her and addressed her. “You’re not what you say you are…” the red-headed vampire took and caressed her hand. That was actually the most worrying thing to Amy. After the initial blood lust had faded she had watched as the vampire toyed with some of her later victims. And it didn’t seem to be just killing play. But she was under instructions… She was not to do anything that might endanger that which they, she, had summoned. Besides the effort, though channelled through the now dead wiccans, had drained her a lot too. “No I’m not,” she told it. “You don’t belong where you are,” the vampire observed, not sounding sure of what it was saying, as if relying on instinct but wondering why it couldn’t believe its eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion… mine is that I am right where I belong.” The fingers were at her neck now… fingers that she had seen tear open a throat before the still bloodstained lips drank from the gaping wound. “You’re not afraid of me?” The vampire sounded surprised. Maybe disappointed. It dropped its hand from her and closed its eyes, head swaying gently as if listening to some tune. “There are worse things than you”’ she finally replied and that was the truth. Besides she had backup, provided by a whole firm of things that were way worse than this vampire ever could be. “You brought me back,” it said, figuring it out. The vampire remembered dying then. That was crucial, they had been told, that it should know that it had died – that she couldn’t just lift it from one reality before that death occurred. That it should feel gratitude to her for her efforts. And if it asked she should tell it the truth. Always the truth. The truth, they had said, is your ally. She didn’t know about that. Lies had always served her pretty well too. But it didn’t ask anything anyway. Amy simply nodded in response to the original question, not about to volunteer information that might be poorly received. That was all she had to keep her alive. She knew that her life hung in the balance, held there precariously by factors beyond her control. If the vampire decided to drain her, snap her neck or anything else there would be no time to defend herself or for her backup to come to her aid. Where was that backup anyway? But she was hoping that the vampire would realise… perhaps even feel some gratitude for what they had done. Of course it had to appreciate the world it was in to do that. “Then you should be rewarded.” It looked down, saw her fingers making almost instinctive gestures, completing a spell that would carry this thing far away from her. But she didn’t have the juice left… she was too far-gone and needed to rest, recover. Maybe pay a visit and pay the price of a supercharge. Was this what she was reduced to she wondered? Unable to complete a job because she was afraid… but the spell had not worked anyway… She looked into the vampire’s soul. Beyond the dangerous surface emotions, looking for something… a shred of lingering humanity. A morsel of mercy that might be dealt her way…. The soul itself. But there was nothing in this one. Nothing but… “Your fingers aren’t working…? Awww… Mine are,” it told her. The vampire interlaced its fingers with hers. The grip was incredibly strong between fingers that seemed so delicate. It held their hand up between them as if remembering… something. It was an almost gentle gesture, which had some meaning to the vampire. Or seemed to. The vampire started to squeeze, watching her carefully as she squeezed until the witch was sure the bones in her fingers would be snapped. The pain was so bad that she couldn’t even start to bring a spell to her mind. Even if she had could manage it… she was under specific instructions... ‘no magical damage.’ She had tried to violate that instruction – out of fear – but couldn’t. She remembered that that now. What they would do to her for breaking the terms of the contract was much, much worse than having her hand hurt. But what if it killed her? She looked towards the door where she knew her backup should have been. Gave the tiniest nod. They had made allowances for this happening. She contained her pain and managed to limit its expression to a soft whimper. That seemed to impress the vampire though it did not slacken the grip. But it didn’t get any stronger either. Constant pressure. Constant pain. It seemed to like it that way. Then the vampires other hand shot out sideways, without looking and grabbed something that could not be seen. Her backup. Marcie. From the immediate sounds of choking it must have taken Marcie by the throat, squeezing her as tightly as it was squeezing her hand and tiny cuts opened up on that hand as Marcie must have struggled to free herself. ------------- Willow had the other by the throat, had sensed her enemy’s approach after the witch had nodded. A strange witch this one. Not that she had met any others before. But she was strange all the same. She wasn’t who she should be. Displaced. Wrong. But better for it. What was wrong was just sooo right. She squeezed with both of her hands intending to pop the head from the invisible one – some thing she couldn’t see but human by the feel and smell of it. Not to mention the choking sounds. It really might have been fun to see if its blood or its innards were also invisible. She could hear it all though. The slight cracking of cartilage. The grind of bone against bone. Such sweet music. And the smell of fear… she’d missed that so much she hardly even noticed the half-moon cuts on her hand and fingers. There had been no sound where she had been before but it wasn't silent. There had been no sight but it wasn't just black. No smell… She didn’t like where she had been even if it was for just a few days… or a thousand years… of dreams. And if these two had brought her back then… they still should die. That was who she was. She was a killer. But she was also confused… so she did not squeeze either any harder. It was…right and it was wrong. This was her place. Now that she could sense once more she could feel that this was her place. Somewhere she should have been. She could smell it. The resigned terror amongst her waking meals was familiar. They knew what she was and they feared her for it. They knew their place. Not like that other, soft, bad place full of fuzzy pink versions of herself. Living ones. Ugghh. Holding this hand like that though? Why was she doing that? She was doing it now to cause pain… but why hold the hand like that in the first place. Because, something told her, that was what you did with a witch. That was how you did hold her hand. But she had never known a witch… never. So how did she know that and what sort of stupid truth was it anyway? ‘That was how you held a witches hand’? It was going round and round in her head and she didn’t like it – it was just like the dreams… getting in the way of what she was. Had she dreamt about the hands? The hands, like that. Holding. The rush of power through her as she knew that she could… Could what? She didn’t know. The only thing that she knew was that she was safe. Safe? Why safe? No something… she was remembering things that she had never done. Never done. Not yet. Thinking? Remembering? Dreaming? What was going on? A waking dream again. And that face in the dreams… overlaid on the face of this witch. The face of something that was hers… just made it clearer that this one wasn’t. ------------- “You’re not mine,” the vampire said to her. Amy had to agree with that, whimpered again as the vampire squeezed once more, then released her hand and the relief that swept through her as fast as the blood into her hand was bliss. It released Marcie a second later and she must have collapsed to the floor. The witch hoped the young woman was not dead… her employers would not be impressed at the loss of that asset. Even to acquire this new one they obviously so valued. Reduced to a whimper! The shame of it…but what the lawyers had paid her… with an oh-so-valuable ‘detayat’, the little trinket which would allow her to take and retain a body as required. Moving with ease to others, and back or keeping one indefinitely. When they had told her that they had one… she would have done this for just money, but for one of those rare treasures… That was definitely worth the effort and a little pain. Or even a lot. She would have taken much more for that reward. She could always vacate the ‘premises’ and allow someone else to do the recuperating for her. But she was glad she didn’t have to. She had a hot date with a cute guy tomorrow and she knew this body so well now that she didn’t want to have leave it before that. The vampire looked at her again, rejecting her mentally and then made for locked door of the room. Marcie had the key, she knew that. But it didn’t bother with the lock at all, just wrenching the door off its hinges and striding out into its world once more. She just hoped that Wolfram and Hart regarded this as a success… otherwise she wasn't sure that either this, or the body of her birth, would be a safe place for her now. A Madison reduced to a whimper… ------------- “So the matter is concluded satisfactorily?” Lilah checked as Holland listened over the speakerphone. The report was nothing like that which she would have ordinarily required of personnel working for her, but that was what you got for sub-contracting. It was absolutely necessary in this to have a cut-out. There could be no clear route back to Wolfram and Hart. Not for this. Not so soon anyway. One day they would make their involvement clear – in fact she understood that it would be crucial. But not just yet. “If satisfactory includes having no feeling in my hand and that invisible woman you sent me being unconscious for two hours then I would say so,” the witch was not impressed by that, having recovered from her previous relief at actually being alive at all. “You were both notified of the risks. Marcie is going to be alright?” Lilah asked with a professional concern. They had invested a lot in that young woman after salvaging her from that government program. A lot of time, a lot of retraining. Though this case had been a little out of her area of expertise. “She’s conscious and talking. I did what I could. Tricky when she is invisible. But yes the spell worked. Another vampire is loose in Sunnydale.” “Excellent.” Holland smiled at her, nodding his own satisfaction. “We appreciate your consideration for Marcie, Ms Madison and there will be a bonus to your payment. We will have that payment delivered to you in the next few hours as agreed. Will that be satisfactory?” There was just silence from the other end of the line – though the call had not been terminated. “Hello? Ms Madison?” For her part, on the other end of the line she was trying to speak, but when she opened her mouth nothing emerged but air. Not even a croak. Her voice had not just gone it had disappeared entirely. Lilah ended the call. The operation had been a success, payment had been arranged. She didn’t need to know anything else about the witch or her body swapping activities. Nor about her being cut off. Strange though. But hardly a problem. Perhaps the witch had been eaten. Shame but payment would still be sent. It was in the contract of course. She shrugged. “Lost her?” Holland asked. “So it seems. Oh well. Drink?” she offered. Things were starting to come together. One back in the game and on the board. The other never out of it but still not quite there yet. “Thank you,” Holland accepted the offered beverage. “Here’s to you continuing to make such excellent progress.” She tipped her glass to him. ********** Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged Charlie
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 175
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 09:38
Katharyn, this is just brilliant. You have me totally hooked. I went back and read the Beginning Cycle and absolutely loved that as well, but this is the best thing I've ever read on the board. Its completely original, unemotionally written and you handle you characters and plot with absolute skill. And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen IP: Logged | Tiggrscorpio
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 12:20
Damn, Katharyn! Evil Amy, viscious Willow and a (non)appearance by Marcie. This story just gets better and better. Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged | emily 'first'
Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 221
Registered: Oct 2001 | posted March 24, 2002 17:17
KatharynThis is just so exciting...I'm wriggling with glee!! Oh,yeh...It's looking to be a damn good story too... ------------------
There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps... vive,valeque. IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 25, 2002 13:42
quote:
Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?
Sort of glad that you can smile... as I said Karma is a bitch in this fic - this isn't the last time this sort of thing might happen. quote:
Originally posted by Charlie:
Its completely original, unemotionally written ... And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!
You can't ever have too much ass sucking... can you? Unemotionally written... mmmmn. I guess that is the appearance on the page. Part of me was screaming at me the whole time just to make it "nicer." Actually I have succumbed to that temptation. Believe me the original draft of the parts you have seen so far were much darker - uneccessarily so and defeating the object. The fic became, in that version, about the darkness and overcoming darkness. That is not the point at all... as I keep saying it is the journey. Also that lack of emotion was a big part of my angst about whether this was suitable for Pens. Ultimately the final destination swayed me. Where it goes is definitely an okay place to be. Thanks for the feedback kittens... it means alot. Part 6(?) posts tomorrow at about 19.00 GMT - not that I think you are hanging on tenterhooks! Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 02:42
Part 6 Kittens... earlier than planned but I amnot sure whether I will be around tonight to post it. This one is all Willow, again not especially nice, a direct follow on to Part 5. Next we go back to Tara and find out what gets her to Sunnydale... Enjoy K --------- Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling II (Currently Part 6)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Willow is back… but this is “Hush,” remember? Not conditional on Buffy ever being in Sunnydale (as was pointed out to me,) so there are things a vampire has to do… And just because she’s back, don’t mean she’s at all nice…
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Wait until the next part… then you’ll be able to see it coming.
Notes: The three “Calling” parts, is not strictly in line with the canon timeline. Some things move faster, some slower. Live with it!
Thanks To: The usual suspects…. All the readers, the kittens, the mods, Jo, Kerry, Louise who all had their own parts to play in this fic.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling II By Katharyn Rosser
As Willow made her way from the college campus into town she knew that she was truly home once more. The streets were still alive with the sounds of imminent death. The screams the lovely, lovely screams. Piercing, warbling, undulating. Cries of agony, simple pain. Terror. Whatever it was, she drank it all in. You’d think that the humans would learn to stay home… But they never did. Dumb. It was good to be back home and out of the nothingness. No more freaky realities where the Slayers and the White Hats ruled…. Her old self, the weak little girl, the human… she would have liked to puzzle it out… about the realities. What sort of stupid place was it where she had never become? But, actually, she just couldn’t seem to care about that right now. White Hats had killed her. Twice now – sort of. And she wasn't about to forget that either. She would have her fun with them. As she and Xander should have done long, long ago. They had played games for far too long when they should have been wiping the do-gooders from the face of the Master’s world. But you could have fun whilst being serious too. ‘Whistle while you work,’ she thought as a shrill cry rang out… Not quite a whistle but just what she wanted to hear. Close by… Xander… he was all gone too. All gone. To find him there in that freak show, warm and breathing. It stirred those old memories that lived on inside of her of the time when she had been like her other self. The other self that had been sooo tempting. Now there was fun. It would have been better than any mirror could have been. She missed mirrors. She had never thought much about them when she was human… but there was something about them. Something special. It had been like looking in one meeting the fuzzy her… But having fun with yourself –and the mirror image still being another person as well. Maybe a little confusing but she could have concentrated. Kept track if she had to… definitely a unique opportunity for playing. Shame it had gone by unrealised – just a little teasing grope… Shame. Still she was home now. In the world where every night was playtime. Where she and hers ruled that night. Where the world had fallen into the proper order of things. That was Darwinism wasn't it…? She remembered that too. Survival of the fittest. It was only right… why should the prey rule the predator? It was freaky and unnatural that other Sunnydale. Home again, home again… Good nights in Sunnydale… But what was that home like now? It was similar, but things had also changed. And when was home now? How long had she been away… what had happened here? Where was the Master? The Slayer could not have gotten him… he was far too powerful to be killed by just a Slayer… he had seen dozen of them come for him and not one… not one had ever staked him… and she knew that if one had… there were ways. She was entrusted with that knowledge. She, Xander, Luke and Darla… alone amongst all his servants were his favourites. Xander was gone… Darla had long ago disappeared. Which was a very good thing… That just left her and dear Luke… who wasn't exactly the brightest orange in the apple tree. When the day came… she would rule at the right hand of the Master. Funny though… it didn’t make her glad to know that. Besides she had been gone. Things had moved on without her – they were bound to have - and it wasn't fair. There might even be another favourite in the Master’s court. And that… that did anger her. She’d have to do something about that… She had missed things. She didn’t know just what yet, but there were bound to have been things. She caught a stray sheet of newspaper that was blowing across her path. It raged about the continued deaths in Sunnydale, demanding to know what the Mayor was doing about it. He was still here then. All she cared about though was that it showed that the world was more than a year older than when she had left it. In some ways it seemed like yesterday, and in others it was a thousand years. The great, much anticipated, day in the factory had been and gone and the cattle of Sunnydale were still here. The world was not yet a haven for vampires… with the humans rounded up in pens for blood and all the other needs they could help fulfil. The town though… it was still what it had been. Hers. But they had forgotten her. She had come across a vampire as he sucked at the neck of a sweet young woman. And he had looked up at her and not known who she was. He had challenged her when she tried to take the woman from him… just for a taste. He should have been glad to share… she was the Master’s favourite. So she had broken his extremities then drunk from the tender vessel. But the woman was… he had tainted her and so she just dropped the human still alive, if barely. Spoiled goods. Besides she was still all-full and warm from all that witchy goodness she had feaster on. He, the vampire, though knew who she was now and the word would spread. It would get back to the Master that his Willow was back. They would all know. The Master would welcome her… and the rest would hate and fear her. As it should be. She would make sure of it. She had a lot of tension to work off. Dying so much had filled her with tension and a desire to… live out her desires. Still sated from her culling of the herd of wannabe witches nothing appealed to her as she walked slowly into town from the campus, drinking in the atmosphere of fear and hatred. But she knew that she had to announce her presence in the best way possible. She had to let them all know that Willow was back to play. Back for good. And that she was still the same as she had been. That death had not changed her. That she was still worthy of sitting at the Master’s right hand come the ‘glorious’ day. Even though she wasn't sure just what made it so glorious. They already ruled Sunnydale… what point ruling a world you could never see and taste. Maybe a few more towns to play in… but the world? What was the point? She didn’t know why that witch had recalled her. She had hinted that there was a purpose behind it. That there was some greater reason for it all... and she had sacrificed all those others for that reason. But Willow was way too bored with even thinking about it to care what that might be. She was back and she would not fulfil their purpose for her unless it was also her purpose. Just her own needs. That was what being dead was all about – you lived for others. Once you died it was all for yourself. She needed a good, lingering kill, to motivate herself and bring her back to the old ways. Stop all this thinking and just get back to doing. It was like she had been tainted by her pink, fuzzy, other self. She shuddered and then she spied the victim she would bless, looking about herself nervously outside a store, waiting for something, and looking with even greater anxiety at the old church opposite. Who cared what concerned it exactly… The concerns of humans ended when the sun went down. After dark they were just cattle and playthings. Actually before dark that was kinda true too… you just had to be more careful. But in general daylight sucked. Boring… Good job it was night time and that the hated sun would not rise behind her for many, many hours… hours she would spend teasing her new plaything. Working up an appetite. Killing was all very well and blood… well she had more than enough of already, but just tasting the hint of the rich fear within her stolen victim had awakened a need. It had been so long since she had really played. They wouldn’t let her be long enough in that freaky world to do anything much… But she was home now. And who was there even to play with but the humans? The puppy was long since dust. Perhaps he had been called back too… No. Who would waste their energies of bringing that soul-riddled excuse for a vampire back into this wonderfully macabre world? No one would even notice he was gone… except for her. She had liked to pass the daylight hours causing him pain. She trotted over to the young woman on the corner, looking about herself as if she too was a human fearing the attack of an undead fiend. A kindred spirit caught in the night with no one to protect her. The woman would cling to her out of fear… and Willow would drink it up. Perhaps being dead for so long would have its advantages. They wouldn’t know who she was. The human noticed her approach quickly and started to move away but then was convinced by her act and relaxed, waving her over with a sense of urgency. “You too huh?” the human woman said to her. Small, blonde haired. Reminding Willow just a little of that Slayer that had killed Xander but looking older. Mid to late twenties. The resemblance though, that would make the kill all the sweeter. It was the least that she could do for him… playtime in his memory… after all she had no intention of doing anything more. Not for him anyway. “Me? Yes. Me too.” She nodded fervently, remembering how she had used to be… once upon a time. Naïve… innocent and afraid. “You saw them?” the woman asked. Actually she might have been thirty or so, but Sunnydale was hard on humans. They aged quickly. Perhaps it was all the undead that remained as young and pretty as the day they died. Perhaps they piled their aging on the humans that remained. Call it stress, anxiety. Who cared? Maybe the universe just wanted to balance the books. Boring philosophy… moving on now. “Them? Them. Yes. Definitely them,” Willow said. “Who are they?” “I can see them moving. You see?” The blonde pointed over the street at the church, abandoned as long as Willow could remember even from her living days in the town. Willow moved behind her then followed the finger. The church was lit. Shadows moved within the boarded up windows. Perhaps only in Sunnydale could you discount the homeless as being the cause of that. This morsel was right something was in there… and it terrified the human. The fear was nice enough but it wasn’t fair if it wasn't fear of her. It was definitely second best and Willow had never wanted to settle for second best. Not in anything… She grasped the pointing finger as if to draw it back and stop the revealing gesture from giving them away, but instead ran her own finger up the human woman’s bare arm, from finger to elbow and upwards. But in her fear the woman did not even notice her touch. Or had more to worry about. No fair. “You’re cold,” Willow told her, “What are you doing out?” “I- I’m waiting for, I mean I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, then I saw them,” the woman whispered. “What’s your name?” Willow asked twirling her finger along the upper arm, underneath it to the softer flesh. “Sarah” the morsel replied. “What are you doing?” it finally asked her. “Just saying hello Sarah.” Willow’s hand found the soft armpit and lingered there, provoking a reaction at last as Sarah clamped that arm down upon the fingers as they made for the edge of her top. “Hello.” But she still wasn’t even looking at Willow. She was still looking across the street. Willow’s attention though was firmly on the neck of Sarah which she bent to lick, thrusting her hand into the young woman’s top wondering whether she would finally object. It was hard to care what the morsel was so fixated on that would distract her from the attentions she was receiving. Finally a real reaction. Sarah’s eyes left the church and as Willow heard a whispering sound the woman looked into her true demonic face. She smiled back knowing the effect it would have and Sarah opened her mouth to let out a scream. But nothing came out. Sarah tried again. There was nothing there. But the screams, the pleas, they were the best bit, Willow thought to herself. Come on Sarah let me hear you scream. She said those words… and heard nothing from herself either. She could still hear the sounds of the town… but not a shout. Not a word. Nor a scream. The humans. The vampires. All had fallen silent. Willow knew then that she could hear, but that she, like Sarah, had fallen silent. It was no fun if they didn’t scream. You couldn’t play if you couldn’t take advantage of all your senses… that was why she had never much liked gags and blindfolds. Too limiting. Across the street the church door opened. Securing her grip on Sarah who, if anything, was even more frantic at the movement of the door, she looked over at what emerged and Willow was immediately fascinated. New things were always fun and these were very new. Or they might be very old… Lifting the human woman off her feet with the arm that was hooked under her chin she moved her bodily forward towards the lurching figures that had emerged. Straitjackets… she had never tried those. They fell into the whole blindfold and gag thing as being limiting… but she guessed that she could use them… And behind those lurching things… what? ---------------- Willow had never seen their like. The rattling of the straps on the straitjackets tinkled like music and the footfalls of the minions were heavy and flat. Moving like apes across the tarmac towards her. Some went by, others clustered around her, as she looked back to the far more interesting… floaty things. The lurchers seemed to be waiting for orders… they neither attacked nor ignored her. The floaty things, human in shape but soooo obviously not human at all. Maybe they had been once. Just like her. And from their smiles they, like her, were glad to no longer be one of the throng of lowly cattle. Permanent smiles… and good teeth. Teeth any vampire would be proud have… They didn’t have to be pointed to rip our throats – just razor sharp. Sarah was wild now, struggling, kicking and clawing at Willow’s arm. She would be all bruised by the time she went to bed in the morning – wherever that was, perhaps this Sarah’s house would do – just until she got back into the Master’s graces. Pretty patterns on her arms. They would be bloody where desperate fingernails scraped her cold, dead, flesh back. She would bear the scars of this night and it had been so long since that had happened that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Waking up with a reminder of what had gone on the night before. That was strange. She knew that she had played shortly before her death…but she also was aware of the time that she had just not been. So long. She would bear the scars and Sarah wouldn’t. Sarah wouldn’t be anything by the time Willow bothered to notice them. The woman was right to feel fear but these things were not her problem. Willow was. But first she wanted to hear Sarah beg, cry and promise to be good for her. She wanted to hear Sarah scream and at the end as her teeth bit into that supple neck, or ripped open those wrists, she would want to hear Sarah moan. Till then Sarah was safe enough with her. I’ll be like a White Hat and protect her. Just for a little while. Being as she didn’t need to feed, she intended to enjoy herself. There was no need to hurry and she knew that these… whatever they were… were responsible for spoiling her playtime. Taking the screams away. Sun wouldn’t be up for a long while. She had time to find a place to shelter from its burning kiss. Sarah would never see that place though. Another heel struck her shins, stinging. Mmmmn. She was totally surrounded now with the loping creatures. They too looked as if they might have been human once. What had brought them to what they were now she didn’t care. The floaty grinning things were what she was concerned about. Two pairs had already set off in different directions along the road. Two remained at the door of the church and two were facing her and Sarah. She loosened her grip on the human woman as they examined the two of them and allowed Sarah to stand on her own feet. The human seemed to understand that right now Willow was not the greatest immediate threat to her life. Though Willow was absolutely certain that she would be again. There was play to be had. The grinning things looked at each other, tilting their heads as if silently communicating and asking each other for an opinion, then looked back at Willow once more. Tipped their heads once more then shook them and turned their attention to Sarah, terrified in her arms and if anything their grins widened and one gave an effete point at the human as the other nodded. Willow might not be able to hear the human but she could certainly smell the increase in her fear. She could feel the heat of it on Sarah’s skin in the loose embrace that she still maintained. The sweat on the flesh making it clammy. Her reaction to the odour was something akin to how she had, as a human, reacted to the smell of freshly baked donuts. With jelly in the mix. It was delicious… as if she would let this go. They wanted Sarah. She could see it. The lurching things could see it and closed in their ring. And Sarah could see it, tried to break free and make for the tiny gap that remained in that circle. Willow’s arm though was like a steel bar over her throat. There was no pressure until Sarah tried to escape from it… and found it would not move at all. Willow jerked her back against her so that Sarah fell off her feet and was supported only by resting against Willow’s body and by that taut arm. Willow started to stroke Sarah’s cheek, pleased to find that the gesture set off new tremors through Sarah. Fear was a beautiful thing, it would jump around from source to source. Perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever sensed. She could smell it. She could taste it. She could feel it, see it and when things were working right she could hear it. She wanted to hear it. It wasn’t fair. She had been so long without playing and now one of her senses was being all deprived by these things. Stroking Sarah’s cheek she allowed herself to revert to her vampiric visage and smiled as sweetly as she was able to with the impediments it put on her… right at the grinning things, which of course returned her smile. What choice did they have? It might have been centuries since their expressions had said anything else. Maybe they never had. Perhaps they had slipped into being like that from nothing? Created from the minds of the fearful. Who cared… bored with the whole thing now. She wanted to play now. Willow didn’t fear them. Sarah was hers and she wanted to hear her scream and moan before and during the kill. After was when silence was acceptable. Only after. She snarled at them. It was a silent snarl of course but how could they miss her intent. She would rip them all apart if she had to. The human was hers. Not theirs. She had never given up a kill to anyone but the Master… and never, ever one of her little toys. She had no idea what they were but what did that matter compared to the kill and playtime? Let them have the rest of Sunnydale. They might even settle a few scores for her. This one was hers though. They looked at each other, then back at Willow and gave her the tiniest little nod before silently floating away from her. The lurching things rattling and slapping their feet as they ambled away before them and in their wake, and in seconds all was quiet. And with them gone Willow stretched out with her own senses, ignoring Sarah’s panicked breathing and the wheezes that rang in her ears but still no words or cries. It wasn't the floaty things themselves that were making everything so quiet. She didn’t get that impression. There was something else. Willow started to listen. She had always been good at that… and some of the time she still had the patience for it. Listening for just where their voices had gone. Surely there was some trace… and to a vampire’s senses there was. The tiniest of whispers… in the old church. Where else but the place they had come from? And if Sarah’s voice was in there then she just had to get it back for her. Otherwise it would all be spoilt and no fun. ---------------- The entrance was empty, revealing just the disused state of the building. And oh look… no crosses to get in the way either. Someone had been so thoughtful in removing them. Maybe the floaty things didn’t like them either… any god certainly wouldn’t like those grins. At least the kind of god that had churches and synagogues and mosques built for them… Perhaps those evil hell gods the Master talked of? Maybe they would appreciate those grinning things a little more. The floorboards creaked though, betraying the presence of the lurchy thing upstairs. It must have been them – only they were touching the ground. Now… Just the precise amount of pressure on dear Sarah’s throat… right there. The woman was unconscious and now the main course could commence before she was ready, she looked at the peaceful Sarah, for dessert. To all the proper audio accompaniments. She supposed she might have triggered some silent alarm as she went up the stairs because as she emerged at the top they were there waiting for her. The workings of the clock were arrayed before her. On a table beneath it several jars and containers. Which they were trying no doubt to keep her from – despite all being empty. Important to them? Not important to Willow. She just wanted Sarah’s voice back. She dropped the woman to the floor beside her and the briefly the things in the straitjackets were distracted. Not her intention but Willow was nothing if not an opportunist. She prided herself at taking the best from every situation… and playing with it. She grabbed at the filthy skull of one of them, using the weight to spin her body off and launch into a kick at the other. But keeping her arms locked, the things neck cracking as her boot connected with the other one. Mmmmn she would have to remember that one, such a lovely productive move. And I bet I looked so good doing it too… The one that she kicked was propelled backwards even as its fellow collapsed limply to the ground and from where she landed she could see the hideously charming grin of one of the suited floaters. Coming round the side of the clock machinery, waving a scalpel. It looked so sharp. Catching the light on the blade. So precise, not clumsy like a big knife. She kicked out again at the minion and felt her boot connect with its groin. Human enough for that to have an effect. She had never really played with scalpels. Knives of all descriptions – she hadn’t much liked them. Once you started out with a knife there was nowhere else to go. But never a scalpel. She would be able to do such lovely things to flesh… to skin. Delicate things… Flaying would be so much easier. To peel it back so daintily and precisely. Willow wasn’t there to fight though. She just want the human’s voice back. She just wanted Sarah to scream for her. That was all. Not so much to ask… Maybe her own voice too… She kicked the minion again, this time in the head and it snapped back with what should have been vertebrae crushing force. Dead? She didn’t particularly mind. Death held no pleasures for her except when done for the best of purposes. Artfully applied. Fulfilling some desire. Self-defence just left her feeling so empty and bored. There were better things to occupy her time. The grinning monster stopped about a metre away from her, waving its raised finger in a parody of the teacher scolding a naughty child. Which she might seem to be to it, who knew how old it was? Willow knew that she would exist forever… now that she was back… but also that she was just starting out on that infinite time. As she plucked out its eyeballs and nibbled on them it might have been interesting to listen, to force it to tell its stories. But not a one of these creatures, or their minions, had said a word and if they wouldn’t talk to her then that was just too bad. For them. They had created the silence and she didn’t like it at all. It was the sound of boredom. But the silence was not total… there was still the tiniest hint of a whisper. Less than a TV on just-above minimum volume. Less than you might hear of a conversation on the street below from the top of a tall building. But it was there. She could hear it. Murmurs, whispers. They were loudest. The talking was in the background and the faintest of all were the almost silent screams. A thousand sounds playing around her ears. But only in here. In this room. There in fact, behind her. She turned her back on the floating thing and focused her senses feeling her back being slashed with the scalpel. A deep wound that would weep the blood of many of the humans she had killed today. Another slash. The sensation… the almost subtle parting of the skin. A slash that felt more like a graze as there was so little immediate pain. The sting. The wet fabric of her clothes as the blood of the witches of UC Sunnydale soaked it. There. The box. A small, wooden, box. Unremarkable in every sense. She walked over to it, glancing over at Sarah who was already coming round. Excellent timing… it was almost time to play. She didn’t look back but felt the floating creature come closer to her, attempted to kick back at it, but failed to calculate that it was in the air and ended up stumbling… another slash striking her arms. Her top was going to be ruined. It better not do anything to her trousers though. Those would be tougher to replace… The box. It had just confirmed what she already knew. It was the box that created the silence, or enforced it. She picked it up and turned back to the creature, which had stopped dead. Waving that finger at her once more. No it was saying – in it’s own silent way. Yes she nodded. I want to hear her scream she mouthed at it… meaning Sarah. After that she didn’t much care. It might be useful to have the town silent. No actually… it would be so boring that she wouldn’t have lasted a night like that. How to open the box though? It looked simple, but even when she lifted the catch nothing happened. The lid would not lift. A puzzle box? Never mind… She wasn't big on the sanctity of the property of others or much for puzzles. If you could rip the blood from peoples’ still living bodies with a song in your heart then you didn’t tend to care about boxes and mysteries much. She looked over at Sarah who was opening her mouth to try and scream once more at the sight of her proximity to things that she thought would kill her. The head of a dead minion in her lap. The body on its back, but the head face down. Sarah was going to scream and scream and scream. Willow promised herself that. She shook the box… nothing in it but the whispers. No rattle but the whispers grew louder as she moved it closer to her head. More agitated perhaps. Wanting to be free as much as she wanted to hear them Willow smiled and the grinning thing… it couldn’t stop smiling but it was a smile that was filled with fear now. Laced with it. It was afraid of what she would do… perhaps it would scream for her too. Beg… She liked it being afraid of her. She closed fist around the box and squeezed, tighter and tighter, the loose catch digging into her flesh until someone’s blood dripped on the floor and she could hear the joints of the wood move against each other. Creaking, groaning and then starting to crack before shattering completely. The box was empty… she dropped it and stood there, idly pulling the splinters of wood from her hand. Sarah was moaning. Willow could hear that. And that was all she wanted. They could go now and find somewhere for their fun. She crossed to the quivering woman and ignored the floating thing, which was looking at the ruins of the box and seemed distracted by it’s loss. She knelt before Sarah and raised her bloody hand to her face, leaving a sticky trail of the stolen blood that she would happily lap up later – perhaps with Sarah’s own. “Isn’t that so much better Sarah?” Sarah did nothing but moan in reply, scrabbling backwards towards the steps but was held by the weight of the minion across her legs. And her fear was redirected again… which was good. “Now Willow can make you cry…” It was a promise. Sarah didn’t have to scream until the end. But she decided to start early shrieking, terrified. Willow didn’t object… fear was always so much fun. The green goo that settled across them a moment later did nothing to shut the human woman up, nor did the collapse of another body across hers. Some part of Willow, deep down, thought the reaction to the scream it was very interesting. The sonic vibrations must have set off a resonance cascade inside the grinning things skull. That was why they wanted silence… Oh well…Willow was really just interested in the screamer though. She turned back towards Sarah, which was where her real interest lay. “That was nice of you Sarah. Now we don’t have to go anywhere else at all.” She was going to feed right here, after the terror, and her hands but not the scalpel, had worked its way on Sarah. It would be a first… here in a church – but somewhere away from the goo… that would just be icky. All green and sticky. Willow preferred sticky to be blood red. ************
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged | BytrSuite
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | jessan15
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged | IP: LoggedCharlieCool Monster Fighter
Posts: 175
Registered: Nov 2001 posted March 24, 2002 09:38
Katharyn, this is just brilliant. You have me totally hooked. I went back and read the Beginning Cycle and absolutely loved that as well, but this is the best thing I've ever read on the board. Its completely original, unemotionally written and you handle you characters and plot with absolute skill. And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen IP: Logged posted March 24, 2002 09:38 Katharyn, this is just brilliant. You have me totally hooked. I went back and read the Beginning Cycle and absolutely loved that as well, but this is the best thing I've ever read on the board. Its completely original, unemotionally written and you handle you characters and plot with absolute skill. And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen IP: LoggedTiggrscorpioDoll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 110
Registered: Dec 2001 posted March 24, 2002 12:20
Damn, Katharyn! Evil Amy, viscious Willow and a (non)appearance by Marcie. This story just gets better and better. Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?------------------
She's my everything! IP: Logged posted March 24, 2002 12:20 Damn, Katharyn! Evil Amy, viscious Willow and a (non)appearance by Marcie. This story just gets better and better. Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?------------------
She's my everything! IP: Loggedemily 'first'Cool Monster Fighter
Posts: 221
Registered: Oct 2001 posted March 24, 2002 17:17
KatharynThis is just so exciting...I'm wriggling with glee!! Oh,yeh...It's looking to be a damn good story too... ------------------
There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps... vive,valeque. IP: Logged posted March 24, 2002 17:17 KatharynThis is just so exciting...I'm wriggling with glee!! Oh,yeh...It's looking to be a damn good story too... ------------------
There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps... vive,valeque. IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 25, 2002 13:42
quote:
Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?
Sort of glad that you can smile... as I said Karma is a bitch in this fic - this isn't the last time this sort of thing might happen. quote:
Originally posted by Charlie:
Its completely original, unemotionally written ... And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!
You can't ever have too much ass sucking... can you? Unemotionally written... mmmmn. I guess that is the appearance on the page. Part of me was screaming at me the whole time just to make it "nicer." Actually I have succumbed to that temptation. Believe me the original draft of the parts you have seen so far were much darker - uneccessarily so and defeating the object. The fic became, in that version, about the darkness and overcoming darkness. That is not the point at all... as I keep saying it is the journey. Also that lack of emotion was a big part of my angst about whether this was suitable for Pens. Ultimately the final destination swayed me. Where it goes is definitely an okay place to be. Thanks for the feedback kittens... it means alot. Part 6(?) posts tomorrow at about 19.00 GMT - not that I think you are hanging on tenterhooks! Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged posted March 25, 2002 13:42 quote:
Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Willow taking out the Wicca group made me smile inappropriately. Was this wrong?
Sort of glad that you can smile... as I said Karma is a bitch in this fic - this isn't the last time this sort of thing might happen. quote:
Originally posted by Charlie:
Its completely original, unemotionally written ... And I'm gonna stop ass-sucking now....!
You can't ever have too much ass sucking... can you? Unemotionally written... mmmmn. I guess that is the appearance on the page. Part of me was screaming at me the whole time just to make it "nicer." Actually I have succumbed to that temptation. Believe me the original draft of the parts you have seen so far were much darker - uneccessarily so and defeating the object. The fic became, in that version, about the darkness and overcoming darkness. That is not the point at all... as I keep saying it is the journey. Also that lack of emotion was a big part of my angst about whether this was suitable for Pens. Ultimately the final destination swayed me. Where it goes is definitely an okay place to be. Thanks for the feedback kittens... it means alot. Part 6(?) posts tomorrow at about 19.00 GMT - not that I think you are hanging on tenterhooks! Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? quote:quote:IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 26, 2002 02:42
Part 6 Kittens... earlier than planned but I amnot sure whether I will be around tonight to post it. This one is all Willow, again not especially nice, a direct follow on to Part 5. Next we go back to Tara and find out what gets her to Sunnydale... Enjoy K --------- Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling II (Currently Part 6)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Willow is back… but this is “Hush,” remember? Not conditional on Buffy ever being in Sunnydale (as was pointed out to me,) so there are things a vampire has to do… And just because she’s back, don’t mean she’s at all nice…
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Wait until the next part… then you’ll be able to see it coming.
Notes: The three “Calling” parts, is not strictly in line with the canon timeline. Some things move faster, some slower. Live with it!
Thanks To: The usual suspects…. All the readers, the kittens, the mods, Jo, Kerry, Louise who all had their own parts to play in this fic.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling II By Katharyn Rosser
As Willow made her way from the college campus into town she knew that she was truly home once more. The streets were still alive with the sounds of imminent death. The screams the lovely, lovely screams. Piercing, warbling, undulating. Cries of agony, simple pain. Terror. Whatever it was, she drank it all in. You’d think that the humans would learn to stay home… But they never did. Dumb. It was good to be back home and out of the nothingness. No more freaky realities where the Slayers and the White Hats ruled…. Her old self, the weak little girl, the human… she would have liked to puzzle it out… about the realities. What sort of stupid place was it where she had never become? But, actually, she just couldn’t seem to care about that right now. White Hats had killed her. Twice now – sort of. And she wasn't about to forget that either. She would have her fun with them. As she and Xander should have done long, long ago. They had played games for far too long when they should have been wiping the do-gooders from the face of the Master’s world. But you could have fun whilst being serious too. ‘Whistle while you work,’ she thought as a shrill cry rang out… Not quite a whistle but just what she wanted to hear. Close by… Xander… he was all gone too. All gone. To find him there in that freak show, warm and breathing. It stirred those old memories that lived on inside of her of the time when she had been like her other self. The other self that had been sooo tempting. Now there was fun. It would have been better than any mirror could have been. She missed mirrors. She had never thought much about them when she was human… but there was something about them. Something special. It had been like looking in one meeting the fuzzy her… But having fun with yourself –and the mirror image still being another person as well. Maybe a little confusing but she could have concentrated. Kept track if she had to… definitely a unique opportunity for playing. Shame it had gone by unrealised – just a little teasing grope… Shame. Still she was home now. In the world where every night was playtime. Where she and hers ruled that night. Where the world had fallen into the proper order of things. That was Darwinism wasn't it…? She remembered that too. Survival of the fittest. It was only right… why should the prey rule the predator? It was freaky and unnatural that other Sunnydale. Home again, home again… Good nights in Sunnydale… But what was that home like now? It was similar, but things had also changed. And when was home now? How long had she been away… what had happened here? Where was the Master? The Slayer could not have gotten him… he was far too powerful to be killed by just a Slayer… he had seen dozen of them come for him and not one… not one had ever staked him… and she knew that if one had… there were ways. She was entrusted with that knowledge. She, Xander, Luke and Darla… alone amongst all his servants were his favourites. Xander was gone… Darla had long ago disappeared. Which was a very good thing… That just left her and dear Luke… who wasn't exactly the brightest orange in the apple tree. When the day came… she would rule at the right hand of the Master. Funny though… it didn’t make her glad to know that. Besides she had been gone. Things had moved on without her – they were bound to have - and it wasn't fair. There might even be another favourite in the Master’s court. And that… that did anger her. She’d have to do something about that… She had missed things. She didn’t know just what yet, but there were bound to have been things. She caught a stray sheet of newspaper that was blowing across her path. It raged about the continued deaths in Sunnydale, demanding to know what the Mayor was doing about it. He was still here then. All she cared about though was that it showed that the world was more than a year older than when she had left it. In some ways it seemed like yesterday, and in others it was a thousand years. The great, much anticipated, day in the factory had been and gone and the cattle of Sunnydale were still here. The world was not yet a haven for vampires… with the humans rounded up in pens for blood and all the other needs they could help fulfil. The town though… it was still what it had been. Hers. But they had forgotten her. She had come across a vampire as he sucked at the neck of a sweet young woman. And he had looked up at her and not known who she was. He had challenged her when she tried to take the woman from him… just for a taste. He should have been glad to share… she was the Master’s favourite. So she had broken his extremities then drunk from the tender vessel. But the woman was… he had tainted her and so she just dropped the human still alive, if barely. Spoiled goods. Besides she was still all-full and warm from all that witchy goodness she had feaster on. He, the vampire, though knew who she was now and the word would spread. It would get back to the Master that his Willow was back. They would all know. The Master would welcome her… and the rest would hate and fear her. As it should be. She would make sure of it. She had a lot of tension to work off. Dying so much had filled her with tension and a desire to… live out her desires. Still sated from her culling of the herd of wannabe witches nothing appealed to her as she walked slowly into town from the campus, drinking in the atmosphere of fear and hatred. But she knew that she had to announce her presence in the best way possible. She had to let them all know that Willow was back to play. Back for good. And that she was still the same as she had been. That death had not changed her. That she was still worthy of sitting at the Master’s right hand come the ‘glorious’ day. Even though she wasn't sure just what made it so glorious. They already ruled Sunnydale… what point ruling a world you could never see and taste. Maybe a few more towns to play in… but the world? What was the point? She didn’t know why that witch had recalled her. She had hinted that there was a purpose behind it. That there was some greater reason for it all... and she had sacrificed all those others for that reason. But Willow was way too bored with even thinking about it to care what that might be. She was back and she would not fulfil their purpose for her unless it was also her purpose. Just her own needs. That was what being dead was all about – you lived for others. Once you died it was all for yourself. She needed a good, lingering kill, to motivate herself and bring her back to the old ways. Stop all this thinking and just get back to doing. It was like she had been tainted by her pink, fuzzy, other self. She shuddered and then she spied the victim she would bless, looking about herself nervously outside a store, waiting for something, and looking with even greater anxiety at the old church opposite. Who cared what concerned it exactly… The concerns of humans ended when the sun went down. After dark they were just cattle and playthings. Actually before dark that was kinda true too… you just had to be more careful. But in general daylight sucked. Boring… Good job it was night time and that the hated sun would not rise behind her for many, many hours… hours she would spend teasing her new plaything. Working up an appetite. Killing was all very well and blood… well she had more than enough of already, but just tasting the hint of the rich fear within her stolen victim had awakened a need. It had been so long since she had really played. They wouldn’t let her be long enough in that freaky world to do anything much… But she was home now. And who was there even to play with but the humans? The puppy was long since dust. Perhaps he had been called back too… No. Who would waste their energies of bringing that soul-riddled excuse for a vampire back into this wonderfully macabre world? No one would even notice he was gone… except for her. She had liked to pass the daylight hours causing him pain. She trotted over to the young woman on the corner, looking about herself as if she too was a human fearing the attack of an undead fiend. A kindred spirit caught in the night with no one to protect her. The woman would cling to her out of fear… and Willow would drink it up. Perhaps being dead for so long would have its advantages. They wouldn’t know who she was. The human noticed her approach quickly and started to move away but then was convinced by her act and relaxed, waving her over with a sense of urgency. “You too huh?” the human woman said to her. Small, blonde haired. Reminding Willow just a little of that Slayer that had killed Xander but looking older. Mid to late twenties. The resemblance though, that would make the kill all the sweeter. It was the least that she could do for him… playtime in his memory… after all she had no intention of doing anything more. Not for him anyway. “Me? Yes. Me too.” She nodded fervently, remembering how she had used to be… once upon a time. Naïve… innocent and afraid. “You saw them?” the woman asked. Actually she might have been thirty or so, but Sunnydale was hard on humans. They aged quickly. Perhaps it was all the undead that remained as young and pretty as the day they died. Perhaps they piled their aging on the humans that remained. Call it stress, anxiety. Who cared? Maybe the universe just wanted to balance the books. Boring philosophy… moving on now. “Them? Them. Yes. Definitely them,” Willow said. “Who are they?” “I can see them moving. You see?” The blonde pointed over the street at the church, abandoned as long as Willow could remember even from her living days in the town. Willow moved behind her then followed the finger. The church was lit. Shadows moved within the boarded up windows. Perhaps only in Sunnydale could you discount the homeless as being the cause of that. This morsel was right something was in there… and it terrified the human. The fear was nice enough but it wasn’t fair if it wasn't fear of her. It was definitely second best and Willow had never wanted to settle for second best. Not in anything… She grasped the pointing finger as if to draw it back and stop the revealing gesture from giving them away, but instead ran her own finger up the human woman’s bare arm, from finger to elbow and upwards. But in her fear the woman did not even notice her touch. Or had more to worry about. No fair. “You’re cold,” Willow told her, “What are you doing out?” “I- I’m waiting for, I mean I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, then I saw them,” the woman whispered. “What’s your name?” Willow asked twirling her finger along the upper arm, underneath it to the softer flesh. “Sarah” the morsel replied. “What are you doing?” it finally asked her. “Just saying hello Sarah.” Willow’s hand found the soft armpit and lingered there, provoking a reaction at last as Sarah clamped that arm down upon the fingers as they made for the edge of her top. “Hello.” But she still wasn’t even looking at Willow. She was still looking across the street. Willow’s attention though was firmly on the neck of Sarah which she bent to lick, thrusting her hand into the young woman’s top wondering whether she would finally object. It was hard to care what the morsel was so fixated on that would distract her from the attentions she was receiving. Finally a real reaction. Sarah’s eyes left the church and as Willow heard a whispering sound the woman looked into her true demonic face. She smiled back knowing the effect it would have and Sarah opened her mouth to let out a scream. But nothing came out. Sarah tried again. There was nothing there. But the screams, the pleas, they were the best bit, Willow thought to herself. Come on Sarah let me hear you scream. She said those words… and heard nothing from herself either. She could still hear the sounds of the town… but not a shout. Not a word. Nor a scream. The humans. The vampires. All had fallen silent. Willow knew then that she could hear, but that she, like Sarah, had fallen silent. It was no fun if they didn’t scream. You couldn’t play if you couldn’t take advantage of all your senses… that was why she had never much liked gags and blindfolds. Too limiting. Across the street the church door opened. Securing her grip on Sarah who, if anything, was even more frantic at the movement of the door, she looked over at what emerged and Willow was immediately fascinated. New things were always fun and these were very new. Or they might be very old… Lifting the human woman off her feet with the arm that was hooked under her chin she moved her bodily forward towards the lurching figures that had emerged. Straitjackets… she had never tried those. They fell into the whole blindfold and gag thing as being limiting… but she guessed that she could use them… And behind those lurching things… what? ---------------- Willow had never seen their like. The rattling of the straps on the straitjackets tinkled like music and the footfalls of the minions were heavy and flat. Moving like apes across the tarmac towards her. Some went by, others clustered around her, as she looked back to the far more interesting… floaty things. The lurchers seemed to be waiting for orders… they neither attacked nor ignored her. The floaty things, human in shape but soooo obviously not human at all. Maybe they had been once. Just like her. And from their smiles they, like her, were glad to no longer be one of the throng of lowly cattle. Permanent smiles… and good teeth. Teeth any vampire would be proud have… They didn’t have to be pointed to rip our throats – just razor sharp. Sarah was wild now, struggling, kicking and clawing at Willow’s arm. She would be all bruised by the time she went to bed in the morning – wherever that was, perhaps this Sarah’s house would do – just until she got back into the Master’s graces. Pretty patterns on her arms. They would be bloody where desperate fingernails scraped her cold, dead, flesh back. She would bear the scars of this night and it had been so long since that had happened that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Waking up with a reminder of what had gone on the night before. That was strange. She knew that she had played shortly before her death…but she also was aware of the time that she had just not been. So long. She would bear the scars and Sarah wouldn’t. Sarah wouldn’t be anything by the time Willow bothered to notice them. The woman was right to feel fear but these things were not her problem. Willow was. But first she wanted to hear Sarah beg, cry and promise to be good for her. She wanted to hear Sarah scream and at the end as her teeth bit into that supple neck, or ripped open those wrists, she would want to hear Sarah moan. Till then Sarah was safe enough with her. I’ll be like a White Hat and protect her. Just for a little while. Being as she didn’t need to feed, she intended to enjoy herself. There was no need to hurry and she knew that these… whatever they were… were responsible for spoiling her playtime. Taking the screams away. Sun wouldn’t be up for a long while. She had time to find a place to shelter from its burning kiss. Sarah would never see that place though. Another heel struck her shins, stinging. Mmmmn. She was totally surrounded now with the loping creatures. They too looked as if they might have been human once. What had brought them to what they were now she didn’t care. The floaty grinning things were what she was concerned about. Two pairs had already set off in different directions along the road. Two remained at the door of the church and two were facing her and Sarah. She loosened her grip on the human woman as they examined the two of them and allowed Sarah to stand on her own feet. The human seemed to understand that right now Willow was not the greatest immediate threat to her life. Though Willow was absolutely certain that she would be again. There was play to be had. The grinning things looked at each other, tilting their heads as if silently communicating and asking each other for an opinion, then looked back at Willow once more. Tipped their heads once more then shook them and turned their attention to Sarah, terrified in her arms and if anything their grins widened and one gave an effete point at the human as the other nodded. Willow might not be able to hear the human but she could certainly smell the increase in her fear. She could feel the heat of it on Sarah’s skin in the loose embrace that she still maintained. The sweat on the flesh making it clammy. Her reaction to the odour was something akin to how she had, as a human, reacted to the smell of freshly baked donuts. With jelly in the mix. It was delicious… as if she would let this go. They wanted Sarah. She could see it. The lurching things could see it and closed in their ring. And Sarah could see it, tried to break free and make for the tiny gap that remained in that circle. Willow’s arm though was like a steel bar over her throat. There was no pressure until Sarah tried to escape from it… and found it would not move at all. Willow jerked her back against her so that Sarah fell off her feet and was supported only by resting against Willow’s body and by that taut arm. Willow started to stroke Sarah’s cheek, pleased to find that the gesture set off new tremors through Sarah. Fear was a beautiful thing, it would jump around from source to source. Perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever sensed. She could smell it. She could taste it. She could feel it, see it and when things were working right she could hear it. She wanted to hear it. It wasn’t fair. She had been so long without playing and now one of her senses was being all deprived by these things. Stroking Sarah’s cheek she allowed herself to revert to her vampiric visage and smiled as sweetly as she was able to with the impediments it put on her… right at the grinning things, which of course returned her smile. What choice did they have? It might have been centuries since their expressions had said anything else. Maybe they never had. Perhaps they had slipped into being like that from nothing? Created from the minds of the fearful. Who cared… bored with the whole thing now. She wanted to play now. Willow didn’t fear them. Sarah was hers and she wanted to hear her scream and moan before and during the kill. After was when silence was acceptable. Only after. She snarled at them. It was a silent snarl of course but how could they miss her intent. She would rip them all apart if she had to. The human was hers. Not theirs. She had never given up a kill to anyone but the Master… and never, ever one of her little toys. She had no idea what they were but what did that matter compared to the kill and playtime? Let them have the rest of Sunnydale. They might even settle a few scores for her. This one was hers though. They looked at each other, then back at Willow and gave her the tiniest little nod before silently floating away from her. The lurching things rattling and slapping their feet as they ambled away before them and in their wake, and in seconds all was quiet. And with them gone Willow stretched out with her own senses, ignoring Sarah’s panicked breathing and the wheezes that rang in her ears but still no words or cries. It wasn't the floaty things themselves that were making everything so quiet. She didn’t get that impression. There was something else. Willow started to listen. She had always been good at that… and some of the time she still had the patience for it. Listening for just where their voices had gone. Surely there was some trace… and to a vampire’s senses there was. The tiniest of whispers… in the old church. Where else but the place they had come from? And if Sarah’s voice was in there then she just had to get it back for her. Otherwise it would all be spoilt and no fun. ---------------- The entrance was empty, revealing just the disused state of the building. And oh look… no crosses to get in the way either. Someone had been so thoughtful in removing them. Maybe the floaty things didn’t like them either… any god certainly wouldn’t like those grins. At least the kind of god that had churches and synagogues and mosques built for them… Perhaps those evil hell gods the Master talked of? Maybe they would appreciate those grinning things a little more. The floorboards creaked though, betraying the presence of the lurchy thing upstairs. It must have been them – only they were touching the ground. Now… Just the precise amount of pressure on dear Sarah’s throat… right there. The woman was unconscious and now the main course could commence before she was ready, she looked at the peaceful Sarah, for dessert. To all the proper audio accompaniments. She supposed she might have triggered some silent alarm as she went up the stairs because as she emerged at the top they were there waiting for her. The workings of the clock were arrayed before her. On a table beneath it several jars and containers. Which they were trying no doubt to keep her from – despite all being empty. Important to them? Not important to Willow. She just wanted Sarah’s voice back. She dropped the woman to the floor beside her and the briefly the things in the straitjackets were distracted. Not her intention but Willow was nothing if not an opportunist. She prided herself at taking the best from every situation… and playing with it. She grabbed at the filthy skull of one of them, using the weight to spin her body off and launch into a kick at the other. But keeping her arms locked, the things neck cracking as her boot connected with the other one. Mmmmn she would have to remember that one, such a lovely productive move. And I bet I looked so good doing it too… The one that she kicked was propelled backwards even as its fellow collapsed limply to the ground and from where she landed she could see the hideously charming grin of one of the suited floaters. Coming round the side of the clock machinery, waving a scalpel. It looked so sharp. Catching the light on the blade. So precise, not clumsy like a big knife. She kicked out again at the minion and felt her boot connect with its groin. Human enough for that to have an effect. She had never really played with scalpels. Knives of all descriptions – she hadn’t much liked them. Once you started out with a knife there was nowhere else to go. But never a scalpel. She would be able to do such lovely things to flesh… to skin. Delicate things… Flaying would be so much easier. To peel it back so daintily and precisely. Willow wasn’t there to fight though. She just want the human’s voice back. She just wanted Sarah to scream for her. That was all. Not so much to ask… Maybe her own voice too… She kicked the minion again, this time in the head and it snapped back with what should have been vertebrae crushing force. Dead? She didn’t particularly mind. Death held no pleasures for her except when done for the best of purposes. Artfully applied. Fulfilling some desire. Self-defence just left her feeling so empty and bored. There were better things to occupy her time. The grinning monster stopped about a metre away from her, waving its raised finger in a parody of the teacher scolding a naughty child. Which she might seem to be to it, who knew how old it was? Willow knew that she would exist forever… now that she was back… but also that she was just starting out on that infinite time. As she plucked out its eyeballs and nibbled on them it might have been interesting to listen, to force it to tell its stories. But not a one of these creatures, or their minions, had said a word and if they wouldn’t talk to her then that was just too bad. For them. They had created the silence and she didn’t like it at all. It was the sound of boredom. But the silence was not total… there was still the tiniest hint of a whisper. Less than a TV on just-above minimum volume. Less than you might hear of a conversation on the street below from the top of a tall building. But it was there. She could hear it. Murmurs, whispers. They were loudest. The talking was in the background and the faintest of all were the almost silent screams. A thousand sounds playing around her ears. But only in here. In this room. There in fact, behind her. She turned her back on the floating thing and focused her senses feeling her back being slashed with the scalpel. A deep wound that would weep the blood of many of the humans she had killed today. Another slash. The sensation… the almost subtle parting of the skin. A slash that felt more like a graze as there was so little immediate pain. The sting. The wet fabric of her clothes as the blood of the witches of UC Sunnydale soaked it. There. The box. A small, wooden, box. Unremarkable in every sense. She walked over to it, glancing over at Sarah who was already coming round. Excellent timing… it was almost time to play. She didn’t look back but felt the floating creature come closer to her, attempted to kick back at it, but failed to calculate that it was in the air and ended up stumbling… another slash striking her arms. Her top was going to be ruined. It better not do anything to her trousers though. Those would be tougher to replace… The box. It had just confirmed what she already knew. It was the box that created the silence, or enforced it. She picked it up and turned back to the creature, which had stopped dead. Waving that finger at her once more. No it was saying – in it’s own silent way. Yes she nodded. I want to hear her scream she mouthed at it… meaning Sarah. After that she didn’t much care. It might be useful to have the town silent. No actually… it would be so boring that she wouldn’t have lasted a night like that. How to open the box though? It looked simple, but even when she lifted the catch nothing happened. The lid would not lift. A puzzle box? Never mind… She wasn't big on the sanctity of the property of others or much for puzzles. If you could rip the blood from peoples’ still living bodies with a song in your heart then you didn’t tend to care about boxes and mysteries much. She looked over at Sarah who was opening her mouth to try and scream once more at the sight of her proximity to things that she thought would kill her. The head of a dead minion in her lap. The body on its back, but the head face down. Sarah was going to scream and scream and scream. Willow promised herself that. She shook the box… nothing in it but the whispers. No rattle but the whispers grew louder as she moved it closer to her head. More agitated perhaps. Wanting to be free as much as she wanted to hear them Willow smiled and the grinning thing… it couldn’t stop smiling but it was a smile that was filled with fear now. Laced with it. It was afraid of what she would do… perhaps it would scream for her too. Beg… She liked it being afraid of her. She closed fist around the box and squeezed, tighter and tighter, the loose catch digging into her flesh until someone’s blood dripped on the floor and she could hear the joints of the wood move against each other. Creaking, groaning and then starting to crack before shattering completely. The box was empty… she dropped it and stood there, idly pulling the splinters of wood from her hand. Sarah was moaning. Willow could hear that. And that was all she wanted. They could go now and find somewhere for their fun. She crossed to the quivering woman and ignored the floating thing, which was looking at the ruins of the box and seemed distracted by it’s loss. She knelt before Sarah and raised her bloody hand to her face, leaving a sticky trail of the stolen blood that she would happily lap up later – perhaps with Sarah’s own. “Isn’t that so much better Sarah?” Sarah did nothing but moan in reply, scrabbling backwards towards the steps but was held by the weight of the minion across her legs. And her fear was redirected again… which was good. “Now Willow can make you cry…” It was a promise. Sarah didn’t have to scream until the end. But she decided to start early shrieking, terrified. Willow didn’t object… fear was always so much fun. The green goo that settled across them a moment later did nothing to shut the human woman up, nor did the collapse of another body across hers. Some part of Willow, deep down, thought the reaction to the scream it was very interesting. The sonic vibrations must have set off a resonance cascade inside the grinning things skull. That was why they wanted silence… Oh well…Willow was really just interested in the screamer though. She turned back towards Sarah, which was where her real interest lay. “That was nice of you Sarah. Now we don’t have to go anywhere else at all.” She was going to feed right here, after the terror, and her hands but not the scalpel, had worked its way on Sarah. It would be a first… here in a church – but somewhere away from the goo… that would just be icky. All green and sticky. Willow preferred sticky to be blood red. ************
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged | BytrSuite
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | jessan15
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged | posted March 26, 2002 02:42 Part 6 Kittens... earlier than planned but I amnot sure whether I will be around tonight to post it. This one is all Willow, again not especially nice, a direct follow on to Part 5. Next we go back to Tara and find out what gets her to Sunnydale... Enjoy K --------- Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – The Calling II (Currently Part 6)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Willow is back… but this is “Hush,” remember? Not conditional on Buffy ever being in Sunnydale (as was pointed out to me,) so there are things a vampire has to do… And just because she’s back, don’t mean she’s at all nice…
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: Wait until the next part… then you’ll be able to see it coming.
Notes: The three “Calling” parts, is not strictly in line with the canon timeline. Some things move faster, some slower. Live with it!
Thanks To: The usual suspects…. All the readers, the kittens, the mods, Jo, Kerry, Louise who all had their own parts to play in this fic.
The Sidestep Chronicle
The Calling II By Katharyn Rosser
As Willow made her way from the college campus into town she knew that she was truly home once more. The streets were still alive with the sounds of imminent death. The screams the lovely, lovely screams. Piercing, warbling, undulating. Cries of agony, simple pain. Terror. Whatever it was, she drank it all in. You’d think that the humans would learn to stay home… But they never did. Dumb. It was good to be back home and out of the nothingness. No more freaky realities where the Slayers and the White Hats ruled…. Her old self, the weak little girl, the human… she would have liked to puzzle it out… about the realities. What sort of stupid place was it where she had never become? But, actually, she just couldn’t seem to care about that right now. White Hats had killed her. Twice now – sort of. And she wasn't about to forget that either. She would have her fun with them. As she and Xander should have done long, long ago. They had played games for far too long when they should have been wiping the do-gooders from the face of the Master’s world. But you could have fun whilst being serious too. ‘Whistle while you work,’ she thought as a shrill cry rang out… Not quite a whistle but just what she wanted to hear. Close by… Xander… he was all gone too. All gone. To find him there in that freak show, warm and breathing. It stirred those old memories that lived on inside of her of the time when she had been like her other self. The other self that had been sooo tempting. Now there was fun. It would have been better than any mirror could have been. She missed mirrors. She had never thought much about them when she was human… but there was something about them. Something special. It had been like looking in one meeting the fuzzy her… But having fun with yourself –and the mirror image still being another person as well. Maybe a little confusing but she could have concentrated. Kept track if she had to… definitely a unique opportunity for playing. Shame it had gone by unrealised – just a little teasing grope… Shame. Still she was home now. In the world where every night was playtime. Where she and hers ruled that night. Where the world had fallen into the proper order of things. That was Darwinism wasn't it…? She remembered that too. Survival of the fittest. It was only right… why should the prey rule the predator? It was freaky and unnatural that other Sunnydale. Home again, home again… Good nights in Sunnydale… But what was that home like now? It was similar, but things had also changed. And when was home now? How long had she been away… what had happened here? Where was the Master? The Slayer could not have gotten him… he was far too powerful to be killed by just a Slayer… he had seen dozen of them come for him and not one… not one had ever staked him… and she knew that if one had… there were ways. She was entrusted with that knowledge. She, Xander, Luke and Darla… alone amongst all his servants were his favourites. Xander was gone… Darla had long ago disappeared. Which was a very good thing… That just left her and dear Luke… who wasn't exactly the brightest orange in the apple tree. When the day came… she would rule at the right hand of the Master. Funny though… it didn’t make her glad to know that. Besides she had been gone. Things had moved on without her – they were bound to have - and it wasn't fair. There might even be another favourite in the Master’s court. And that… that did anger her. She’d have to do something about that… She had missed things. She didn’t know just what yet, but there were bound to have been things. She caught a stray sheet of newspaper that was blowing across her path. It raged about the continued deaths in Sunnydale, demanding to know what the Mayor was doing about it. He was still here then. All she cared about though was that it showed that the world was more than a year older than when she had left it. In some ways it seemed like yesterday, and in others it was a thousand years. The great, much anticipated, day in the factory had been and gone and the cattle of Sunnydale were still here. The world was not yet a haven for vampires… with the humans rounded up in pens for blood and all the other needs they could help fulfil. The town though… it was still what it had been. Hers. But they had forgotten her. She had come across a vampire as he sucked at the neck of a sweet young woman. And he had looked up at her and not known who she was. He had challenged her when she tried to take the woman from him… just for a taste. He should have been glad to share… she was the Master’s favourite. So she had broken his extremities then drunk from the tender vessel. But the woman was… he had tainted her and so she just dropped the human still alive, if barely. Spoiled goods. Besides she was still all-full and warm from all that witchy goodness she had feaster on. He, the vampire, though knew who she was now and the word would spread. It would get back to the Master that his Willow was back. They would all know. The Master would welcome her… and the rest would hate and fear her. As it should be. She would make sure of it. She had a lot of tension to work off. Dying so much had filled her with tension and a desire to… live out her desires. Still sated from her culling of the herd of wannabe witches nothing appealed to her as she walked slowly into town from the campus, drinking in the atmosphere of fear and hatred. But she knew that she had to announce her presence in the best way possible. She had to let them all know that Willow was back to play. Back for good. And that she was still the same as she had been. That death had not changed her. That she was still worthy of sitting at the Master’s right hand come the ‘glorious’ day. Even though she wasn't sure just what made it so glorious. They already ruled Sunnydale… what point ruling a world you could never see and taste. Maybe a few more towns to play in… but the world? What was the point? She didn’t know why that witch had recalled her. She had hinted that there was a purpose behind it. That there was some greater reason for it all... and she had sacrificed all those others for that reason. But Willow was way too bored with even thinking about it to care what that might be. She was back and she would not fulfil their purpose for her unless it was also her purpose. Just her own needs. That was what being dead was all about – you lived for others. Once you died it was all for yourself. She needed a good, lingering kill, to motivate herself and bring her back to the old ways. Stop all this thinking and just get back to doing. It was like she had been tainted by her pink, fuzzy, other self. She shuddered and then she spied the victim she would bless, looking about herself nervously outside a store, waiting for something, and looking with even greater anxiety at the old church opposite. Who cared what concerned it exactly… The concerns of humans ended when the sun went down. After dark they were just cattle and playthings. Actually before dark that was kinda true too… you just had to be more careful. But in general daylight sucked. Boring… Good job it was night time and that the hated sun would not rise behind her for many, many hours… hours she would spend teasing her new plaything. Working up an appetite. Killing was all very well and blood… well she had more than enough of already, but just tasting the hint of the rich fear within her stolen victim had awakened a need. It had been so long since she had really played. They wouldn’t let her be long enough in that freaky world to do anything much… But she was home now. And who was there even to play with but the humans? The puppy was long since dust. Perhaps he had been called back too… No. Who would waste their energies of bringing that soul-riddled excuse for a vampire back into this wonderfully macabre world? No one would even notice he was gone… except for her. She had liked to pass the daylight hours causing him pain. She trotted over to the young woman on the corner, looking about herself as if she too was a human fearing the attack of an undead fiend. A kindred spirit caught in the night with no one to protect her. The woman would cling to her out of fear… and Willow would drink it up. Perhaps being dead for so long would have its advantages. They wouldn’t know who she was. The human noticed her approach quickly and started to move away but then was convinced by her act and relaxed, waving her over with a sense of urgency. “You too huh?” the human woman said to her. Small, blonde haired. Reminding Willow just a little of that Slayer that had killed Xander but looking older. Mid to late twenties. The resemblance though, that would make the kill all the sweeter. It was the least that she could do for him… playtime in his memory… after all she had no intention of doing anything more. Not for him anyway. “Me? Yes. Me too.” She nodded fervently, remembering how she had used to be… once upon a time. Naïve… innocent and afraid. “You saw them?” the woman asked. Actually she might have been thirty or so, but Sunnydale was hard on humans. They aged quickly. Perhaps it was all the undead that remained as young and pretty as the day they died. Perhaps they piled their aging on the humans that remained. Call it stress, anxiety. Who cared? Maybe the universe just wanted to balance the books. Boring philosophy… moving on now. “Them? Them. Yes. Definitely them,” Willow said. “Who are they?” “I can see them moving. You see?” The blonde pointed over the street at the church, abandoned as long as Willow could remember even from her living days in the town. Willow moved behind her then followed the finger. The church was lit. Shadows moved within the boarded up windows. Perhaps only in Sunnydale could you discount the homeless as being the cause of that. This morsel was right something was in there… and it terrified the human. The fear was nice enough but it wasn’t fair if it wasn't fear of her. It was definitely second best and Willow had never wanted to settle for second best. Not in anything… She grasped the pointing finger as if to draw it back and stop the revealing gesture from giving them away, but instead ran her own finger up the human woman’s bare arm, from finger to elbow and upwards. But in her fear the woman did not even notice her touch. Or had more to worry about. No fair. “You’re cold,” Willow told her, “What are you doing out?” “I- I’m waiting for, I mean I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, then I saw them,” the woman whispered. “What’s your name?” Willow asked twirling her finger along the upper arm, underneath it to the softer flesh. “Sarah” the morsel replied. “What are you doing?” it finally asked her. “Just saying hello Sarah.” Willow’s hand found the soft armpit and lingered there, provoking a reaction at last as Sarah clamped that arm down upon the fingers as they made for the edge of her top. “Hello.” But she still wasn’t even looking at Willow. She was still looking across the street. Willow’s attention though was firmly on the neck of Sarah which she bent to lick, thrusting her hand into the young woman’s top wondering whether she would finally object. It was hard to care what the morsel was so fixated on that would distract her from the attentions she was receiving. Finally a real reaction. Sarah’s eyes left the church and as Willow heard a whispering sound the woman looked into her true demonic face. She smiled back knowing the effect it would have and Sarah opened her mouth to let out a scream. But nothing came out. Sarah tried again. There was nothing there. But the screams, the pleas, they were the best bit, Willow thought to herself. Come on Sarah let me hear you scream. She said those words… and heard nothing from herself either. She could still hear the sounds of the town… but not a shout. Not a word. Nor a scream. The humans. The vampires. All had fallen silent. Willow knew then that she could hear, but that she, like Sarah, had fallen silent. It was no fun if they didn’t scream. You couldn’t play if you couldn’t take advantage of all your senses… that was why she had never much liked gags and blindfolds. Too limiting. Across the street the church door opened. Securing her grip on Sarah who, if anything, was even more frantic at the movement of the door, she looked over at what emerged and Willow was immediately fascinated. New things were always fun and these were very new. Or they might be very old… Lifting the human woman off her feet with the arm that was hooked under her chin she moved her bodily forward towards the lurching figures that had emerged. Straitjackets… she had never tried those. They fell into the whole blindfold and gag thing as being limiting… but she guessed that she could use them… And behind those lurching things… what? ---------------- Willow had never seen their like. The rattling of the straps on the straitjackets tinkled like music and the footfalls of the minions were heavy and flat. Moving like apes across the tarmac towards her. Some went by, others clustered around her, as she looked back to the far more interesting… floaty things. The lurchers seemed to be waiting for orders… they neither attacked nor ignored her. The floaty things, human in shape but soooo obviously not human at all. Maybe they had been once. Just like her. And from their smiles they, like her, were glad to no longer be one of the throng of lowly cattle. Permanent smiles… and good teeth. Teeth any vampire would be proud have… They didn’t have to be pointed to rip our throats – just razor sharp. Sarah was wild now, struggling, kicking and clawing at Willow’s arm. She would be all bruised by the time she went to bed in the morning – wherever that was, perhaps this Sarah’s house would do – just until she got back into the Master’s graces. Pretty patterns on her arms. They would be bloody where desperate fingernails scraped her cold, dead, flesh back. She would bear the scars of this night and it had been so long since that had happened that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Waking up with a reminder of what had gone on the night before. That was strange. She knew that she had played shortly before her death…but she also was aware of the time that she had just not been. So long. She would bear the scars and Sarah wouldn’t. Sarah wouldn’t be anything by the time Willow bothered to notice them. The woman was right to feel fear but these things were not her problem. Willow was. But first she wanted to hear Sarah beg, cry and promise to be good for her. She wanted to hear Sarah scream and at the end as her teeth bit into that supple neck, or ripped open those wrists, she would want to hear Sarah moan. Till then Sarah was safe enough with her. I’ll be like a White Hat and protect her. Just for a little while. Being as she didn’t need to feed, she intended to enjoy herself. There was no need to hurry and she knew that these… whatever they were… were responsible for spoiling her playtime. Taking the screams away. Sun wouldn’t be up for a long while. She had time to find a place to shelter from its burning kiss. Sarah would never see that place though. Another heel struck her shins, stinging. Mmmmn. She was totally surrounded now with the loping creatures. They too looked as if they might have been human once. What had brought them to what they were now she didn’t care. The floaty grinning things were what she was concerned about. Two pairs had already set off in different directions along the road. Two remained at the door of the church and two were facing her and Sarah. She loosened her grip on the human woman as they examined the two of them and allowed Sarah to stand on her own feet. The human seemed to understand that right now Willow was not the greatest immediate threat to her life. Though Willow was absolutely certain that she would be again. There was play to be had. The grinning things looked at each other, tilting their heads as if silently communicating and asking each other for an opinion, then looked back at Willow once more. Tipped their heads once more then shook them and turned their attention to Sarah, terrified in her arms and if anything their grins widened and one gave an effete point at the human as the other nodded. Willow might not be able to hear the human but she could certainly smell the increase in her fear. She could feel the heat of it on Sarah’s skin in the loose embrace that she still maintained. The sweat on the flesh making it clammy. Her reaction to the odour was something akin to how she had, as a human, reacted to the smell of freshly baked donuts. With jelly in the mix. It was delicious… as if she would let this go. They wanted Sarah. She could see it. The lurching things could see it and closed in their ring. And Sarah could see it, tried to break free and make for the tiny gap that remained in that circle. Willow’s arm though was like a steel bar over her throat. There was no pressure until Sarah tried to escape from it… and found it would not move at all. Willow jerked her back against her so that Sarah fell off her feet and was supported only by resting against Willow’s body and by that taut arm. Willow started to stroke Sarah’s cheek, pleased to find that the gesture set off new tremors through Sarah. Fear was a beautiful thing, it would jump around from source to source. Perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever sensed. She could smell it. She could taste it. She could feel it, see it and when things were working right she could hear it. She wanted to hear it. It wasn’t fair. She had been so long without playing and now one of her senses was being all deprived by these things. Stroking Sarah’s cheek she allowed herself to revert to her vampiric visage and smiled as sweetly as she was able to with the impediments it put on her… right at the grinning things, which of course returned her smile. What choice did they have? It might have been centuries since their expressions had said anything else. Maybe they never had. Perhaps they had slipped into being like that from nothing? Created from the minds of the fearful. Who cared… bored with the whole thing now. She wanted to play now. Willow didn’t fear them. Sarah was hers and she wanted to hear her scream and moan before and during the kill. After was when silence was acceptable. Only after. She snarled at them. It was a silent snarl of course but how could they miss her intent. She would rip them all apart if she had to. The human was hers. Not theirs. She had never given up a kill to anyone but the Master… and never, ever one of her little toys. She had no idea what they were but what did that matter compared to the kill and playtime? Let them have the rest of Sunnydale. They might even settle a few scores for her. This one was hers though. They looked at each other, then back at Willow and gave her the tiniest little nod before silently floating away from her. The lurching things rattling and slapping their feet as they ambled away before them and in their wake, and in seconds all was quiet. And with them gone Willow stretched out with her own senses, ignoring Sarah’s panicked breathing and the wheezes that rang in her ears but still no words or cries. It wasn't the floaty things themselves that were making everything so quiet. She didn’t get that impression. There was something else. Willow started to listen. She had always been good at that… and some of the time she still had the patience for it. Listening for just where their voices had gone. Surely there was some trace… and to a vampire’s senses there was. The tiniest of whispers… in the old church. Where else but the place they had come from? And if Sarah’s voice was in there then she just had to get it back for her. Otherwise it would all be spoilt and no fun. ---------------- The entrance was empty, revealing just the disused state of the building. And oh look… no crosses to get in the way either. Someone had been so thoughtful in removing them. Maybe the floaty things didn’t like them either… any god certainly wouldn’t like those grins. At least the kind of god that had churches and synagogues and mosques built for them… Perhaps those evil hell gods the Master talked of? Maybe they would appreciate those grinning things a little more. The floorboards creaked though, betraying the presence of the lurchy thing upstairs. It must have been them – only they were touching the ground. Now… Just the precise amount of pressure on dear Sarah’s throat… right there. The woman was unconscious and now the main course could commence before she was ready, she looked at the peaceful Sarah, for dessert. To all the proper audio accompaniments. She supposed she might have triggered some silent alarm as she went up the stairs because as she emerged at the top they were there waiting for her. The workings of the clock were arrayed before her. On a table beneath it several jars and containers. Which they were trying no doubt to keep her from – despite all being empty. Important to them? Not important to Willow. She just wanted Sarah’s voice back. She dropped the woman to the floor beside her and the briefly the things in the straitjackets were distracted. Not her intention but Willow was nothing if not an opportunist. She prided herself at taking the best from every situation… and playing with it. She grabbed at the filthy skull of one of them, using the weight to spin her body off and launch into a kick at the other. But keeping her arms locked, the things neck cracking as her boot connected with the other one. Mmmmn she would have to remember that one, such a lovely productive move. And I bet I looked so good doing it too… The one that she kicked was propelled backwards even as its fellow collapsed limply to the ground and from where she landed she could see the hideously charming grin of one of the suited floaters. Coming round the side of the clock machinery, waving a scalpel. It looked so sharp. Catching the light on the blade. So precise, not clumsy like a big knife. She kicked out again at the minion and felt her boot connect with its groin. Human enough for that to have an effect. She had never really played with scalpels. Knives of all descriptions – she hadn’t much liked them. Once you started out with a knife there was nowhere else to go. But never a scalpel. She would be able to do such lovely things to flesh… to skin. Delicate things… Flaying would be so much easier. To peel it back so daintily and precisely. Willow wasn’t there to fight though. She just want the human’s voice back. She just wanted Sarah to scream for her. That was all. Not so much to ask… Maybe her own voice too… She kicked the minion again, this time in the head and it snapped back with what should have been vertebrae crushing force. Dead? She didn’t particularly mind. Death held no pleasures for her except when done for the best of purposes. Artfully applied. Fulfilling some desire. Self-defence just left her feeling so empty and bored. There were better things to occupy her time. The grinning monster stopped about a metre away from her, waving its raised finger in a parody of the teacher scolding a naughty child. Which she might seem to be to it, who knew how old it was? Willow knew that she would exist forever… now that she was back… but also that she was just starting out on that infinite time. As she plucked out its eyeballs and nibbled on them it might have been interesting to listen, to force it to tell its stories. But not a one of these creatures, or their minions, had said a word and if they wouldn’t talk to her then that was just too bad. For them. They had created the silence and she didn’t like it at all. It was the sound of boredom. But the silence was not total… there was still the tiniest hint of a whisper. Less than a TV on just-above minimum volume. Less than you might hear of a conversation on the street below from the top of a tall building. But it was there. She could hear it. Murmurs, whispers. They were loudest. The talking was in the background and the faintest of all were the almost silent screams. A thousand sounds playing around her ears. But only in here. In this room. There in fact, behind her. She turned her back on the floating thing and focused her senses feeling her back being slashed with the scalpel. A deep wound that would weep the blood of many of the humans she had killed today. Another slash. The sensation… the almost subtle parting of the skin. A slash that felt more like a graze as there was so little immediate pain. The sting. The wet fabric of her clothes as the blood of the witches of UC Sunnydale soaked it. There. The box. A small, wooden, box. Unremarkable in every sense. She walked over to it, glancing over at Sarah who was already coming round. Excellent timing… it was almost time to play. She didn’t look back but felt the floating creature come closer to her, attempted to kick back at it, but failed to calculate that it was in the air and ended up stumbling… another slash striking her arms. Her top was going to be ruined. It better not do anything to her trousers though. Those would be tougher to replace… The box. It had just confirmed what she already knew. It was the box that created the silence, or enforced it. She picked it up and turned back to the creature, which had stopped dead. Waving that finger at her once more. No it was saying – in it’s own silent way. Yes she nodded. I want to hear her scream she mouthed at it… meaning Sarah. After that she didn’t much care. It might be useful to have the town silent. No actually… it would be so boring that she wouldn’t have lasted a night like that. How to open the box though? It looked simple, but even when she lifted the catch nothing happened. The lid would not lift. A puzzle box? Never mind… She wasn't big on the sanctity of the property of others or much for puzzles. If you could rip the blood from peoples’ still living bodies with a song in your heart then you didn’t tend to care about boxes and mysteries much. She looked over at Sarah who was opening her mouth to try and scream once more at the sight of her proximity to things that she thought would kill her. The head of a dead minion in her lap. The body on its back, but the head face down. Sarah was going to scream and scream and scream. Willow promised herself that. She shook the box… nothing in it but the whispers. No rattle but the whispers grew louder as she moved it closer to her head. More agitated perhaps. Wanting to be free as much as she wanted to hear them Willow smiled and the grinning thing… it couldn’t stop smiling but it was a smile that was filled with fear now. Laced with it. It was afraid of what she would do… perhaps it would scream for her too. Beg… She liked it being afraid of her. She closed fist around the box and squeezed, tighter and tighter, the loose catch digging into her flesh until someone’s blood dripped on the floor and she could hear the joints of the wood move against each other. Creaking, groaning and then starting to crack before shattering completely. The box was empty… she dropped it and stood there, idly pulling the splinters of wood from her hand. Sarah was moaning. Willow could hear that. And that was all she wanted. They could go now and find somewhere for their fun. She crossed to the quivering woman and ignored the floating thing, which was looking at the ruins of the box and seemed distracted by it’s loss. She knelt before Sarah and raised her bloody hand to her face, leaving a sticky trail of the stolen blood that she would happily lap up later – perhaps with Sarah’s own. “Isn’t that so much better Sarah?” Sarah did nothing but moan in reply, scrabbling backwards towards the steps but was held by the weight of the minion across her legs. And her fear was redirected again… which was good. “Now Willow can make you cry…” It was a promise. Sarah didn’t have to scream until the end. But she decided to start early shrieking, terrified. Willow didn’t object… fear was always so much fun. The green goo that settled across them a moment later did nothing to shut the human woman up, nor did the collapse of another body across hers. Some part of Willow, deep down, thought the reaction to the scream it was very interesting. The sonic vibrations must have set off a resonance cascade inside the grinning things skull. That was why they wanted silence… Oh well…Willow was really just interested in the screamer though. She turned back towards Sarah, which was where her real interest lay. “That was nice of you Sarah. Now we don’t have to go anywhere else at all.” She was going to feed right here, after the terror, and her hands but not the scalpel, had worked its way on Sarah. It would be a first… here in a church – but somewhere away from the goo… that would just be icky. All green and sticky. Willow preferred sticky to be blood red. ************
Katharyn
------------------
You hear that baby?
[This message has been edited by Katharyn (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged Pixie
Sassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged | BytrSuite
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged | Katharyn
Big Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 | posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged | jessan15
Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 | posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged | IP: LoggedPixieSassy Eggs
Posts: 509
Registered: Jan 2002 posted March 26, 2002 02:59
Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: Logged posted March 26, 2002 02:59 Wow! This was eerie, scary, gross, and very disturbing - good job! This AU version of "Hush" totally made sense. Looking forward to Tara's next appearance.IP: LoggedBytrSuiteDoll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 58
Registered: Nov 2001 posted March 26, 2002 03:22
Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: Logged posted March 26, 2002 03:22 Heh, yeah. I like Willow's one-track mind. Just wants to hear Sarah scream. Excellent. I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting. I, too, am looking forward to more Tara. I can't wait until they are both in the same town and finally have some contact with each other. This is a very interesting story. I love reading it. [This message has been edited by BytrSuite (edited March 26, 2002).] IP: LoggedKatharynBig Pineapple
Posts: 1070
Registered: Aug 2001 posted March 26, 2002 13:31
quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? IP: Logged posted March 26, 2002 13:31 quote:
Originally posted by BytrSuite:
I keep thinking it's kind of wrong of me to enjoy Evil Willow so much. But then I get over it. Evil Willow is just much too interesting.
Thanks Pixie and Bytrsuite... disturbing is definitely the point. Vamp Willow offers great possibilities as a character and as a method of telling the story. The reader/writer is naturally drawn to her by her quirks (much as we are to Willow but in very different ways) yet we know that she is very, very bad. Katharyn ------------------
You hear that baby? quote:IP: Loggedjessan15Doll's Eye Crystal
Posts: 100
Registered: Feb 2002 posted March 26, 2002 13:59
Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way. IP: Logged posted March 26, 2002 13:59 Oh come on....its vamp Willow...anything other than warped would be unsatisfying. Some of us love that evil little pain-loving sex mongerBring Tara...can't wait to see them together. ------------------
Love will find a way.
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