• Title – Willow vs Evil Dead
• Author name – Zemfira
• Rating - NC-17
• Disclaimer - Willow is missing one of her Willowhands. Slapstick splatter ultraviolence, geysers of blood and other ridiculous 80s movie ultraviolence, strong language, terrible terrible humor, that inevitable smut that comes around in every fanfiction known to man
• Feedback- God yes, geysers of feedback.
• Summary- Basically, no vampires or supernatural creatures run rampant normally. Book of the dead however exists and can unleash the sickest of Lovecraftian monsters onto the world. After letting Anya around her house in drunken celebration, Anya accidentally reads from the Necronomicon. The book of the dead. Unknowingly, she summons the forces of darkness into the world. Willow, being the only one who has ever fought the forces of darkness and survived is tasked unwillingly with the job of saving the world by telling terrible jokes.
• Notes- All characters, themes, items, references and pretty much everything in this story belongs to their respective owners. Please don't take me seriously, they gave a monkey a typewriter and gorramit if I'm not going to write the finest Shakespeare the 'verse has ever seen. I tend to ramble, end me.
Chapter One – Magic Box
Portland, Oregon 2003 - Four years after Graduation Day A thick heavy blanket of heat pulled the city of Portland into a sluggish routine of suncream and loose clothing along with a various assortment of air conditionings and fans. People commuted their way to work as a small little voice in their radio box told them unimportant while in an inner city apartment Willow Rosenberg awakes with a startle on her floor.
Willow's flicker open slowly, her copper hair obscuring her vision. Her cheek felt wet. She jolts onto her knees, holding her hair out of her eyes with her hand as she looks around. Potato chips splattered the floor, clinging to her strawberry themed pajamas and the side of her cheek. Fortunately, there was a significant lack of alcohol.
Oh God, Willow.. What did you do? She then saw it, taunting her with it's shininess. In plain sight, beside the television. It seared her vision, like Burt Reynolds naked on a bear rug centerfold.
God no. No you didn't. The complete box set of Seinfeld lay on the floor, opened with it's filthy discs polluting the floor. The empty bottles of Sunny D and boxes of fig rolls once again confirmed her suspicions. She'd tried to pull an all-nighter watching Seinfeld.
Willow, you blithering imbecile. And on a work day? What time is it anyway? She stumbled up to her feet, dragging herself over to her bed and looking at the clock. Nine-fifteen.
"Ahhhhh... Sug-… Shit."
****
Willow boots open her apartment door: pulling her Magic Box red jacket over her navy denim shirt and handbag that dangled around her neck, her belt that kept her brown trousers from falling down to her ankles is loosely fastened. Fuzzy pink socks slip into black hiking shoes as she stumbles her way down the corridor before practically falling down the three flights of stairs. Getting dressed was difficult under stress and when you only have a singular hand. Her right stump was another grim reminder of her time in Sunnydale.
Just get out of the building you doofus! Exhausted and messily dressed she barges through the front door of the apartment block, looking in relief at the parked 1973 Oldsworth Delta 88. Her loyal companion after the horrific events at Sunnydale four years earlier.
No narrator slash third person myself! Go back to the car! The Delta was painted in a pale yellow and had seen many things, she'd bought it from some crazy man on the road to Portland. He'd had a weird name.
Alice? Ainsley? Alfie? No it was definitely a girls name. Beside the point, this car had been with her for her entire adult life and was her pride and joy. No car could ever match her old Oldy. Or Delly. Or whatever nickname she decided suited the occasion, her mind flurried between affectionate nicknames. It was qui-
Not the time for internal monologue, Will. She fumbles through her handbag before pulling out her car keys, a very broody Muppet-esque figure in a cute leather coat hung from it. She slots the key into the car door and twists it, pulling the car door open quickly before diving into the driver's seat. She quickly grabs her wooden fake hand off the dashboard and screws it onto her right stump. She yanks the door closed, plunging the keys into the engine and slams her foot down on the pedal and screeching her way out of her parking space down the street.
****
Willow patrols the car park, looking for a free parking space as she breathes heavily. She checks her drivers mirror, combing her hair out of her eyes and the potato chips out of her hair with her fingers then fastening her belt up properly and heading out of her car and into the Portland branch of the Magic Box.
All of the Magic Boxes around the country had the exact same interior as the one Willow had once entered in Sunnydale and sold the exact same faux mystical merchandise with the exception of the large original store in Las Vegas which was like a small shopping mall of good gauche gear for good gullible people.
The magic box wasn’t exactly a high-paying job and it wasn't exactly the most exciting job as far as jobs go, it was simple and it brought from time to time funny experiences when meeting some of the strangest characters. And some of the strangest people at the shop were definitely not just the shoppers but the employees.
Anya Jenkins represented the lengths one could go to find their true selves. Anya had told Willow that in 2001 she had woken up in a cabinet in an abandoned warehouse with no memories of who she was or where she was. She found a fifty cents and a Vons club card in her brassiere and believed she had been kidnapped by the government and experimented on. Filled with paranoia and embalmed in conspiracy theories she signed up for a job at the Magic Box in hope to research ways to stop the government from doing worse things to her mind. She roomed with an overly British man with platinum blonde hair whose name she swore was Simon and that he wasn't actually British. She saved up and bought herself a silver trailer which took up four disabled parking spaces outside the Magic Box.
"Willow! You're an.. Hour and a half late, you know I can only cover for you for up to an hour and a quarter." Anya folded her arms in disappointment: dressing in an all black outfit consisting of a beret, a turtleneck and a pair of circular sunglasses.
Willow sighs softly as she groans loudly, looking up to the clock on the wall that reads Ten o'clock. "Sorry.. I just.. I mean, the manager will be okay right..? I mean, I'm a loyal hardworking sonofagun whose been here for four years. I'm a senior staff member. Mainly because y'know. Half the people who work here are weirdos like ourselves or young kids trying to seem cool n' hip."
Anya just stares at her, at least Willow assumed she was staring. The circular sunglasses were like staring into a black void of conspiracy and a desire for money and could probably blot out the sun if its power was harnessed correctly. "No but seriously, the boss is pretty pissed. We got a new employee today, this girl I talk to at the grocery store. She actually listens to my theories!"
Willow smirks, if one could put with Anya then they either had Shaolin monk level patience or an incredibly high mental pain threshold "Well she's either incredibly stupid or just incredibly polite. Where is she?"
Anya points over to the circular table in the center of the shop where they sat around and procrastinated day-in-day-out. However, their sanctuary of slacking seemed to have been penetrated by some form of-
Oh my. On the table sat a woman like no other, whose silky blonde hair hung in a loose ponytail while strands hung limply across her gentle pale face. Bright blue eyes sparkled brightly under the dim yellow light that shone through the red lampshade. She had a curious yet knowing expression, one of caring and understanding. Willow's eyes moved down, onto the more …. womanly ...aspects of the new employee while her mouth retains a perfect 'O' shape.
Anya whispers into her ear "Willow, Dorothy can see your ladyboner from not in Kansas anymore dot com."
Merciful not your lord cos' you're Jewish Christ, get some common decency and stop staring at her... And her.. Starable places. Willow remains static for a moment, gripping her arm with her still functioning Willow hand and turning around quickly. She then turns to Anya, in a weak whine "Just tell me I wasn't drooling."
Anya smirks, elbowing her "Her names Tara and as far as I'm aware she's relatively single and sexually ambiguous."
Willow just stares at her, giving her look of just disbelief "How does one even judge that?"
Anya simply remarks "The Powers That Be™ work in mysterious ways." She slowly walks off before turning around "Being your loyal wingwoman."
"I never agreed to tha-"
She interrupts her instantaneously "Being your loyal wingwoman." She glares at her, or at least adjusts her glasses in an intimidating fashion "I'd say we organize a night out. Like last night."
Willow raises an eyebrow at her, staring in confusion "Wait what?!"
Anya nods slowly "Yeah, we watched Seinfeld and drank Sunny D and read from some weird Latin book then you collapsed from a sugar come down at around two in the morning and I went home."
Willow chuckles softly before frowning "So that’s why I woke up on the floor! But I thought we agreed Seinfeld was a no-no show! That’s violating our bro cod-.." She pauses for a moment before asking nervously "Latin book...? Anya.. You better be talking Da Vinci code."
Anya shakes her head, slipping her hands into her pockets "Oh no, I'm talking like... Big bad cover looks like a rotting human face. You said it was all.. Binded in human flesh, written in human blood if used by evil or people who have no idea what they are doing it could unleash a dark horror upon the Earth.. Then I started reading from it. Then you passed out and I went home."
Willow just stares at her in shock and disbelief, her lips moving but no sound coming out – she then croaks "And after me warning you.. You read it out.. Why..?"
Anya shrugs "Meh, I thought you were just going through a goth phase."
Willow stares blankly, her silence broken as Tara interrupts the twos Mexican standoff. She curiously looks between the two as their eyes interlock, or rather Willows eyes interlock with the soulless lenses of Anya's spectacles. Tara asks curiously, a peaceful pacifistic nature seems to follow her "You two okay he-here..? Things seem heated.."
Willow stares at her.. For too long.
Quit your dorkin' Rosenberg, it's just a girl. Willow stutters in a slur of nonsense for a moment "I.. What, no of course not.. I mean, okay. Yes, heat is something not here that we do not have because.. We... Uh.. We're friendly. Not argumentative.."
Tara gives a cute half smirk, gazing at Willow – almost as if she was staring into Willow's very being. Willow stares back in fear and suspense and perpetual attraction.
Oh my lord Rosenberg, you made her think you're the biggest dork in dorkland since Adam Sandler. Anya nods slowly "Don't worry, the rest of the general public also wonder what drugs Will takes to make her go into such a blank place where she can form entire paragraphs of nonsensical gibberish."
Tara shakes her head, apologizing quietly "Oh no, I didn't mean to smile in a b-bad way. I mean, I know what. … It's like t-to just.. Go on.. Kinda like I am now.." She chuckles quietly.
Anya stands awkwardly between the two, folding her arms in the perpetual silence before being dragged aside by Willow "Anyaaaa, I need to talk to you for a second."
Willow brings her into the corner of the Magic Box and hisses through her teeth "Okay, listen to me. You have put us in some seriously deep shit. An ocean of shit Anya."
Anya scoffs, frowning at Willow "Is it because I helped you pluck up the courage to talk to that girl you've been staring at for your entire duration of stay."
Willow hisses at her again "Oh my God, because you've summoned the demons of hell into our dimension and a fuck ton of Deadites are going to fuck up the world and we're all gunna die! Meaning, I'm going to have to go save the world, again."
Anya raises an eyebrow "Okay, you're not slurring yet you're talking gibberish. What are you going on about Rosendork?"
Willow slaps her causing Anya to rub her face before she can retort she slaps her again "Shut up and listen up. Four years ago, after my graduation ceremony. Me and my friends and my boyfriend we-"
Anya takes off the glasses and gazes at her in amazement "You weren't always one of the gays?"
Willow slaps her again in frustration before she nods and zips her mouth "Okay, no speaking."
"Anyway, we went back to the school library to organize before we went out again. Then there was the book laying on the table. Our librarian told us that it was the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis and that he he had found it along with some tapes from the previous owner which he then proceeded to play.. And well.. That's not how I planned for my graduation to go."
****Willow flashbacks**** A four years younger Willow screams in fear as she is chased down the corridors of Sunnydale High by a demonic Giles – his eyes bright white and his head twisted the other way around.
It then flashes to a scene of Willow screaming loudly as she hacks a possessed Giles's head off with a fire axe before hacking his corpse repetitively with it. Gratuitous amounts of blood splatter her awful patterned shirt and pretty much her entire body.
Flash. A scene of Willow and Xander running into the cafeteria away from a possessed Buffy while screaming loudly. Willow getting stabbed in the hand by Buffy as she attempts to close the door behind her. Xander is promptly sucked through a window by an unknown entity.
Flash. Willowhand has become grey and has distinctive black veins, it attempts to choke her and slams her into many obstacles. The fight continues into the kitchens where the hand beats her with plates and trays and pots and pans. Willow grabs a knife with her free hand and drops to the floor she impales the evil Willowhand against the floor. She screams and yells "Who's laughing now?!" Before pulling a chainsaw out of an open cupboard and sawing her evil hand off in another gratuitous bath of blood.
Flash to Willow blowing a possessed Xanders brains across a cafeteria table, looking away in horror as blood splatters her face - screaming loudly while doing so. She turns around and accidentally fires to doing the same to Oz, looking around as she realizes the bloodbath she'd created.
Another flash shows a now one-handed Willow wielding a double barrelled shotgun and shooting at her disembodied hand as it skittered along a history classroom wall. It climbs into the first hole in the wall before firing again. Blood begins to pour slowly from it. Willow advances closer, curiously before a literal fountain of blood spurts out the hole in the wall, drenching Willow in hot red liquid. The other hole spurts blood before they both mysteriously stop. Willow looks around the classroom before the eerie silence is broken by a taxidermy deer head on the wall begins to start laughing, various other inanimate objects such as doors, chairs, books and all sorts of items join in the choir of laughter. Covered in blood, Willow falls to her knees, laughing maniacally with the rest.
Final flash to Willow sawing a possessed Buffy's head off – putting it in a vice and sawing it in half in a woodwork classroom. She looks out the window to see the entire town of Sunnydale appears to be possessed by these monstrosities, she looks on in horror before grabbing a page out of Buffy's open neck and placing it in the damned book. A large flash passes over the town and all the residents seem to just disappear, the memory ends with Willow walking down the steps of the High School with a chainsaw replacing her right hand a shotgun in her left with the Necronomicon under her arm.
****Now back to the real world**** "And in short, my friends were possessed by the evilest of evils and I in turn had to kill them before cutting off my own hand. All while covered head to toe in obscene levels of blood."
Anya stares at her "No wonder you're an emotional basket case. Good thing I'm normal. Anyway.. I blanked out after the inconsistencies of you finding a chainsaw and a shotgun in a school."
Willow grunts loudly before slapping her "Our janitor loved the second amendment. And cutting down trees."
"Why were you telling me this?"
Willow slaps her again "Because you released the evil that killed all my friends!"
"But you killed all your friends."
"I.. Stop trying to reverse this, the evil took them and I.. Had to kill them because, self defence and they would've died anyway.. It's better to be dead than a pawn for evil."
Tara slowly walks over, looking genuinely nervous. "Umm.. Excuse me, I don't m-mean.. To.. Well.. Anya... W-Willow.. There's something going on outside." And as Tara said this as if dramatic irony or something similar the lights flickered and as Willow and Anya had been reminiscing on the crazy murder times of young Willow they had not noticed the darkening sky and the drastically lowering temperatures.
Slowly edging towards them in the distance would be a large, all-consuming smoke being which would be destroying everything in it's path.
Willow murmurs quietly "Fuck a duck."
End of Chapter 1