UPDATE - I felt the chapter I posted yesterday was way too short after a weeks delay, so I'm throwing the next chonky chapter at you now.
The next chapter will have a bigger gap though, so fair warning on that.
CHAPTER 3
On her third day in Sunnydale, Willow had created a comfortable routine of eating her ‘on the house’ meal in the saloon while reading the day's paper.
She was secretly very proud of herself for feeling comfortable in an establishment full of the harsher edges of reality.
Loud poker games happened in one corner, slightly out of tune piano played from another, and a mass of drunks would meander in and out of the doors from dawn til dusk, and frequently until dawn again.
By all accounts, she should be bewildered and frightened by such vagrants, as her father would have put it, but she found herself soaking up the culture, and the mystique of it all kept her feeling alive.
In this morning's issue, there was coverage of a fresh attack, this time located near the Mayor’s hall. A more specific account than most, Willow stared slightly slack jawed as she read the end of the piece.
“...Lawmen report of puncture wounds on the neck and thighs of the victim, leading to further investigation. Sheriff Finn is contacting external experts to discuss non-animal sources for the attacks”.
As soon as she allowed the words to settle in her mind, Willow downed the rest of her lunch and swiftly left for the Police station.
Willow opened the door gently, and looked towards the first desk in the Sheriff’s office. Sat in front of her was a strong looking man in his mid 20s, wearing matching brown pinstripe trousers and waistcoat over a white shirt with roughly rolled up sleeves, and a loose tie at his neck. He had a strong jaw that was decorated with a bushy moustache that seemed to counter his short trim hair style. He had various documents on the desk in front of him.
“May I help you, miss?” the man asked as he looked up at her.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr?”
“Finn, but you can call me Sheriff. I know I look a little young for the role but you may have heard our previous Sheriff had a … bad experience round here.” Finn adjusted himself uncomfortably as he tried to explain.
“I’m so sorry Sheriff, my name is Willow, Willow Rosenberg? I am in the area for research and I read in the paper that you’re looking for external experts surrounding the attacks. One of those experts wouldn’t happen to be Professor Ruper Giles, would it?” Willow asked as politely as she could manage, but still betrayed herself with eagerness.
Finn stood and looked at her with slight suspicion “And how would you know a name like that, Miss Rosenberg?” Willow, briefly alarmed at the question, tried to brush it off with a feminine energy she doesn’t naturally possess.
“Oh it’s silly, I’m, uh... writing a novel, you see. It’s a horror book? I needed some information regarding ghouls and goblins and the like, and I felt an expert in occult lore would be of great use. We have been corresponding for quite some time now. I knew he lived in this state but it never occurred to me that he would be local. Is he, by any chance? I’d love to sit and discuss my book with him in person” Willow tried to squeeze as much truth into her lie as possible to appear more convincing, although drama had never been her strong suit.
Finn narrowed his eyes slightly and then shrugged. “Well, I don’t know much about what he deals in, he’s an odd fella. He doesn’t live too far, has his own cottage about two hours east of here. We’ve asked him to look into the case a little, that’s all. He knows about some weird stuff, we’re curious if he has any insights. At this point we’ll try anything, to be frank. It’s gettin’ scary round here”.
Finn sat back down, feeling a little silly at being so distrusting of the lady, but everyone had itchy trigger fingers of late, so he rationalised to himself that it was an understandable instinct.
Willow, on the other hand, had visibly relaxed when Finn had sat down and managed to internally scream at herself not to let out a ‘woohoo!’ at her own subterfuge.
“Oh thank you Sheriff, I appreciate your assistance. I won’t keep him too busy, I assure you. Good luck with your investigation!” with that she hastily headed towards the exit, but as she opened the door a blonde woman in black trousers, a leather jacket and a cowboy hat with a screaming, gagged man over her shoulder was blocking her exit onto the porch.
“Oh, um, excuse me?” she politely pointed in an outward direction and the bounty hunter stepped aside so she could leave.
The blonde stared after Willow for a few seconds before carrying the body inside the station.
Without a word she walked inside and took a turn to the right, to the open jail cell. She easily threw the man onto the bed, as he wailed miserably, and then closed the door behind her, using it’s locking mechanism on the outside.
She quickly strode up to Finn’s desk and slapped a crumpled wanted poster onto it.
“Larry Boyce, wanted for 3 counts of murder and 2 counts of theft. You owe me $50, and who’s the red head? What did she want?” The woman had both hands pressed onto the desk, looking at the sheriff with annoyance.
“Well, hello Summers! How nice of you to drop in! Have you been well?” Finn smiled in slight amusement and leaned back in his chair slightly, putting his hands behind his head.
“Finn. Give me what I’m owed, and tell me what I want to know” Summers, looking increasingly irritated, stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, fingers gracing the side of her gun belt.
“Oh geez, lighten up would ya! It don’t cost nothin’ to be nice now does it?”
“Fine. Give me my payment and the information I asked for. Pretty please, with a cherry on top” Summers gave him an almost disturbing fake smile that never reached her eyes.
Finn sighed and opened his draw, putting a money clip on his desk towards her.
“There’s your payment. Good catch, Summers. He’s evaded my men for a while now. The red head was just askin’ about Ruper Giles’s location, apparently they’re pen pals. You know old man Giles right? He’s a few wheels short of a wagon, if you ask me.”
Summers picked up the clip from the desk, tipped her hat at the sheriff, and left without a responding word.
“It really don’t cost to be nice” Finn mutters to himself, sighing wistfully at Summers departure.
------------------------
Willow quickly jogged towards the stagecoach station and hired a driver, giving him rough directions. Without thinking she handed him payment straight away, eager to meet the infamous Rupert Giles.
After a two hour ride, the stagecoach pulled up outside of a quaint little hillside cottage.
There was a small garden outside with various herbs and vegetables, and a small stable with a speckled grey horse inside.
The cottage seemed fairly standard until Willow walked towards the front door and realized the wood had thousands of small symbols carved into it, all over the building. From her own readings she could recognize religious iconography and some runes, but a lot of the imagery was completely alien to her.
Slightly concerned, she lightly knocked on the door.
She heard a shuffle behind the door, but instead of it opening, she heard an English man say “Who goes there?” through the wood.
“Does professor Giles live here? My name is Willow Rosenberg” Willow responded, feeling more and more unsettled.
The door opened slightly, and a head peered through the gap. With a quick look up and down, he opened the door fully and visibly relaxed.
Before her stood a tall, older gentleman, around his early 50s. His grey woollen sweater and grey pants matched perfectly with his greying hair, making him look more distinguished than old, as she had imagined. He wore spectacles and seemed a little skittish, but overall she felt calmer now in his presence.
“I’m sorry, Miss Rosenberg. It’s been a dangerous few weeks around here. Can’t be too careful. It’s lovely to meet you in person finally” Giles extended his hand and smiled at her warmly.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you too.” She took his hand and shook it enthusiastically, which caused Giles’s smile to crinkle in amusement at her.
“Come in, come in! I am having some tea, would you like some? It’s my own mix. Some ginseng and mint, I grow both outside.” He gestured towards a teapot on a small table with two chairs in the main sitting area.
The cottage appeared quite modest to Willow, the table in question sat against the wall on the right side of the main room, with a small fireplace on the left wall, with a single armchair sat near it, and a large sleeping dog on a small carpet in front of the fire. In the back of the main area was a corner kitchen, and there seemed to be a small hallway further back on the right, presumably to other rooms.
“I would love some, thank you” she accepted. Giles gestured to the wooden chair nearest to her and he quickly collected a second cup from his kitchen, putting it down in front of Willow and pouring the tea in. He immediately sat down opposite her.
“Did you send a letter telling me of your arrival? If so I’m afraid it hasn’t arrived yet” Giles asked, before sipping his cup.
“Actually, no. This wasn’t really planned. I came to Sunnydale to get more direct research about the attacks. It’s truly fascinating. I happened to read that the sheriff was contacting ‘external experts’, I asked if you were one of them and he confirmed. I didn’t realise you lived so close to Sunnydale, although considering the more colourful history of the town I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Willow sipped her tea, and was surprised at the bitterness she tasted, but the mint helped balance the flavour slightly. It wasn’t the most enjoyable beverage but knowing the properties of ginseng, she was willing to soldier on. Briefly wondering if there was a reason Giles was drinking such a concoction.
Giles' face had a slightly sterner expression, as he nodded in response.
“Yes, I was contacted. There seems to be some odd circumstances around the deaths, they want me to research if there’s any supernatural beings that could cause the sort of marks and savagery they’ve found. I believe they are under the assumption that there is a sort of cult of people trying to replicate the actions of some kind of monster, they’ve ruled out typical animal attacks as they do not really match some of the facts found so far”.
Giles seemed to choose his words carefully, which intrigued Willow.
“Do you agree with their assumption? That this is just… people?” Willow looked at Giles with an excited spark in her eyes, which Giles’ was unsure how to read.
“I currently don’t know much about the attacks. I’ve been relaxing, enjoying my recent retirement. I need to read through the papers the Sheriff left and get myself acquainted with the case and then do some further research. I’m afraid I don’t have much to comment on so far.” Giles continued to be careful with his wording and Willow realised that the conversation she was hoping to achieve would not happen immediately.
Wanting to continue conversing and get to know the man in person however, she decided to change the topic.
“Oh yes, your retirement. I remember you mentioning it in one of your letters. You were teaching History, correct? I know you wrote a lot of pieces on folklore, the occult and mythology, but History was your primary subject?” Willow smiled, while reaching for her cup again. Despite it’s bitter taste, she assumed the Englishman would appreciate the polite effort of finishing the drink.
“Yes, you are correct. You have a good memory! It was a delightful job but I am happy to have some time to myself. I will still publish, though. I fear I would be too bored in this house alone, with nothing to do. So I will continue my research, and publish more pieces.”
“I look forward to reading them, as you know I’m a fan of your work” Willow smiled at him.
She put her cup down on the table, and looked at him earnestly.
“I am going to be staying nearby for a few weeks. I find the current situation here fascinating and I’m trying to experience the ‘real’ world, away from my fathers influence. I would love to pick your brain some more, if you have the time for me” her eyes pleaded with him to agree.
Giles smiled briefly at the young woman’s request.
“I think that would be fine, Miss Rosenberg.” They smiled at each other and Willow got up from her seat.
“Well, I’ve taken up too much of your time today already. I will leave you to do your local research, but I’ll pop by soon?” she asked, extending her hand for a parting shake.
“Of course, I would love that. It was nice to finally put a face to our letters” she returned the shake.
“Same with you, Professor,” she smiled.
“Call me Rupert, if you’d like.” he offered, opening the front door for her.
“Okay, Rupert. Thank you again” she left the cottage and after making it to the nearby road she quickly realized that her stagecoach had left without her. Realizing far too late that she’d never instructed him to stay, and had paid him up front. She felt foolish but realized the Maclay ranch would only be an hour's ride away from here, and figured she would start walking, hoping to arrive there before dark. At least she could hopefully have a bed for the evening and then organize retrieving her belongings from the saloon the following day.
She started following the road down the hill, and the professor stood in the doorway, drinking his tea and watching her retreat.
Summers crept into the room from the hallway, and stood beside the professor. He didn’t flinch or react in any way.
“Interesting girl. Did you catch all of that?” The bounty hunter gave a quiet “mmhmm” noise from deep in her throat.
“Keep an eye on her. Just in case.” He instructed, turning away from the door to sit back inside.
Summers watched on, as Willow walked on in the distance.
END OF CHAPTER 3