Title:
Fallen (Part 1 of 3).
Series:
Redemption.
Author:
Crazed Attourney (Adam)
Email:
crazed_attourney@hotmail.com or crazedattourney01@yahoo.co.uk
Feedback:
Yes Please.
Archive:
Just ask.
Pairing:
A/X, S/H and hints of W/T and B/R, plus orig. m/f and f/f.
Rating:
UK-15/R (but may border on UK-18/NC-17)
Spoilers:
Alternative timeline, splitting off from Family, does make mention of other parts of S.5.
Disclaimers:
These all belong to Buffy God Mr Joss Whedon, and whatever rights he has assigned, to his bosses and their companies. Legally I would be considered a 'man of straw' so please don't sue. Actually means I’m skint.
Authors Notes:
This makes some serious mention of the 2000/2001 English Football Season, if you take that as the start of the story. The first game mentioned is Liverpool v. Manchester United, who came third and first, respectively in the league, but Liverpool beat Man U twice in that year, and went on to win a cup treble (League Cup, F.A. Cup and the European Cup Winners Cup).
Author’s Notes (2):
The Redemption Series is five parts in length: Fallen; Reunion; Shadows; Covenant and Redemption. It also includes a short Prologue (“…sweet sorrow…”) and epilogue (“…ever after…”), and my own bad poetry.
Author's Notes (3):
Sorry this is quite a chunky part.
Redemption.
“What Lies beyond Perception?
For it stands between all, the mad and the genius,
Our Loves and Our Hates,
What Lies beyond Perception?
It is the thin line between Gods and Monsters,
That which we worship, and that which we fear in the night.
What Lies Beyond Perception?
For it tells us, he is a sinner and she is a saint,
For in my sin, another’s salvation lies.
What Lies beyond Perception?
Redemption.
For in my Redemption not even,
Gods, Monsters or Mortals may touch.”
Redemptions Promise,
The Great Hall, Rothwell Manor.
Prologue: "...sweet sorrow..."
"No!" Tara called out as she watched her beloved red head fall, only she could see the invisible lei-ach demon as it approached Willow's prone form, while one of the other grim clown parodies wrestled with Buffy.
"Tara can you see it, what is it?" The slayer called, fear touching at her voice.
"N-N-N-No," she stuttered uncontrollably, her mind racing to find the words to end her spell, "B-b-blind C-C-Cadria, r-re-release y-our hold." Just barely the words stumbled from her lips.
Both of the demons suddenly appeared before the rest of their group, a flash of red lingered in their eyes.
Xander barrelled into the one hovering above Willow, he did it without thinking, like long dead Viking warriors the young man went berserk, physically driving the stronger demon back with the surprising brutality of his attack.
Buffy was having an easier time of it, now able to see her attacker, she spun with high kick, the demon flew back and into a surprised Giles, the elder man was knocked unconscious, the demon was not so lucky, it fell back it's head colliding through the glass of the shops counters, shards of glass drove themselves into it's head and neck, it too fell into blackness, as its life slipped away.
The remaining lei-ach, seeing its brethren die, and being unable to drive away the fury battering at it, decided to run, pushing Xander aside it gathered all its strength to flee. The arrival of the Maclay Clan halted its desperate run, as it frantically tried to grapple through the three bodies, a seething Buffy caught it, and with a horrifying crunch it died its head almost ripped from its body.
"What's going on here," Tara's father demanded, fear making his voice jump.
"That's what I'd like to know Tara?" The slayer turned calmly to the distraught Wicca, who was tearfully cradling her redheaded lover.
"Tara, did you do this?"
She shook her head.
"Don't lie to me." He growled menacingly, "Beth has told me...."
Buffy picked up Tara, her hands clasping tightly round the blond Wicca's throat. "Answer him."
"I cast a s-s-spell, t-t-to h-hide, I didn't k-know," she gagged pitifully.
"Magic." Michael Maclay snarled, "Demon Magic, we warned you, now look what you've done, god you become less...less human with each spell." He voice was preachy, as if delivering a sermon.
"You're a demon." Buffy wasn't even surprised, who else but a demon would put her and her friends into danger so selfishly, automatically Buffy found herself glancing fearfully at Dawn.
She tried to ignore the look of hatred that her sister threw back her.
Tara nodded.
Buffy raised her fist.
Her father stepped in the way, and for the first time Tara was grateful for his presence. "No, it’s not her fault, it's a curse, her mother had it, all the women in her family do, we know how to care for her." His voice was soft, gentle, and almost sad.
Buffy nodded, and harshly thrust towards her father.
"B-B-Buffy, c-ould y-y-you g-g-give Willow this," she said once the she'd straightened herself out. She held out an ornate silver ring, small but beautifully crafted, a dragon resting on its tail, a single ruby eye peeking out. "T-Tell Willow, t-t-that I l-love her."
Buffy spat on the ring.
"Buffy!" Dawn cried in shock.
"Hey what's going on here?" Spike suddenly called, his unhappiness at being ignored, quickly became overcome by the scene in front of him, "get your hands off of her!" He called seeing the vice like grip, a man he didn't recognise had on Tara, and the antipathy of the Scoobies to her plight.
Xander stepped in front of him, "Spike Tara's going with her family." The young man's tone was menacing, the 'leave it or else' was clear.
"Like blo...................aaagh." He grabbed his head.
In the momentary confusion Spike's cry of pain caused, Dawn grabbed Tara.
"Don't go...please." The youngest Summers pleaded.
"S-S-Sorry." Tara couldn’t meet the girl’s pleading eyes.
"Dawn!" Buffy snapped, and dragged her sister back.
Dawn shook her off, "I'll tell her." She whispered and grabbed the ring.
"I think you'd better go. Now." Buffy warned.
***********
Part One: Fallen.
Willow stood behind the counter at the Magic Box; her normally vibrant features were down cast. Her green eyes were distant and empty; the sparkle that made them bright and alive was gone, replaced by a clouded, vacant gaze.
Tingle! The Magic Box's quiet bell, rang loudly in the still, silence of the shop.
She hardly looked out from her misery as a new customer entered the shop. Anya also barely paused in her aggressive attempts to sell useless items to bemused customers. With Giles visiting the Watchers Council in England, the shop, like Sunnydale had been relatively quiet.
The gentle thud of a heavy leather coat jarred her out of her dark reverie. The customer standing before her was an attractive, wealthy looking man, he looked to be in his mid thirties, but the subtle flecks of red and white in his blond hair, made it difficult to guess at his real age.
If Willow had been more aware, this man would have set off her warning bells. She would have noticed his fluid, cat-like movements across the shop floor, which had evaded the patches of sunlight that lighted the dusty shop. These movements were carried across into his current pose, he stood to benefit, but never cross into the light.
His expensive dark suit highlighted his skin, which while Mediterranean in colouring was unnaturally pale. He shadows of his face gave the impression that his face had subtle ridges, though they did not mar his seemingly warm features.
“Good evening,” his voice carried a perfect, clipped English accent. “Would you be able to supply me with these items?”
As she took the list from his hands, she shuddered visibly at their coldness.
His raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Cold hands.” She muttered.
He gave what appeared to be a warm smile, his tinted glasses hid whether it reached his eyes
“Warm heart,” he replied warmly.
She found herself giving a little smile back, skimming the list she said, “I’m not sure about some of these, I’ll just check.”
XxxX
Buffy hammered the punch bag, she pictured her ex-boyfriend, with every heavy punch, and she imagined pounding his farm boy looks in. He! Had! Dumped! Her! The bastard had been fooling around with vampires and she’d had been the one at fault!
She barely heard Anya’s frantic attempt to gain her attention, so focused was she on beating the stuffing from the bag.
“Buffy!” Anya shouted anxiously, flapping her arms in a vain attempt to gain the slayer’s attention.
“What?” Buffy snarled.
“Look.” Anya thrust the list into Buffy’s hands.
“Yeah…and?” She said dismissively, the items on the piece of paper meant nothing to her.
Anya rolled her eyes, “There’s a vampire …”
XxxX
The stranger was studying a statue of some mythical demon, examining it from different angles, as if trying to work out what it was, an amused from sat on his face.
He felt Willows return “Is everything okay?”
Willow was very nervous; her hands were clasped tightly behind her back, trying to keep the shakes in.
“I’m afraid………”
XxxX
Buffy approached as stealthily as she could, even with the vampire’s back turned it was difficult. Her body was tense and her senses rang, they were humming with ‘danger,’ she thought if she closed her eyes she would see red flashing lights and klaxons screaming their warning. Not even the Master had made her senses ring this badly, she wanted to run and hide.
She shifted Mr. Pointy in her hand, as she prepared to strike.
XxxX
“…That some of the items you want….ummm…are…”
“Bad!” Anya snapped from behind the counter.
Willow threw the ex-demon an evil looking glare she turned back toward the vampire and…
XxxX
…The vampire simply disappeared, Buffy was sure he’d been there when she’d struck, so she couldn’t of missed.
Yet Mr. Pointy flailed through empty air, it’s tip catching the front of Willows purple bunny top.
XxxX.
Willow almost fainted as she heard her top rip, as Mr. Pointy cut through it, the unexpected loss of her target caused Buffy to loose her balance falling into Willow.
The flashes of Willow’s life were abruptly ended as a blond blur barrelled into her, forcing her to the floor.”
XxxX.
A rich and very amused English chuckle, cut into them as a slightly embarrassed Willow and a hugely pissed off slayer tried to untangle themselves from each other.
He was sitting on top of the counter, his legs crossed, and he rocked back and forth as he chuckle became a full belly laugh, and with his mouth wide open with mirth small half extended fangs were revealed.
Angrily Buffy flew at him.
But again the vampire disappeared.
The display case shattered as the now enraged Slayer crashed into it.
She spun.
He was calmly standing beside Willow, casually putting his heavy coat and wide brimmed hat back on.
“It is dreadfully bad form to attack a chap from behind.”
He admonished mockingly.
Tipping his hat towards her, he disappeared again.
“Slayer,” he appeared at the door, “Valain is coming, and I will have my vengeance. You are not my concern, make sure it stays that way.” His voice was now hard and menacing.
He disappeared again, leaving the three women stunned.
XxxX.
Riley sat in a dark corner of Willy’s Bar, nursing yet another neat vodka. He downed it quickly, feeling the harsh burn of the liquor slip down his throat.
His world was collapsing around him; the love of his life was gone, in an instant his foolish words and deeds destroying what remained of their love and the tear-stained image of her rapidly retreating form forever burned into his memory.
Then he’d learned his friends were dead, lost in some godforsaken jungle pit, cut down by the clinical gunfire of well-armed vampires. If he closed his eyes he could see the burning camp they’d been sent to kill, and them charging to there deaths.
‘So easy,’ Graham had cooed before he left.
Fucking vamps!! He thought viciously.
After that news, he had done what so many men had done before him, when they’d hit bottom: he’d crawled into a bottle, hoping never to emerge.
A well, but flamboyantly dressed vampire slid into the booth as well. A dark velvet suit and white silk shirt glistened in the dull light of the bar his long blond hair was drawn into a neat ponytail. His features were equally as strange, it was as if they’d got stuck between him morphing into his demon visage, the half-formed teeth and ridges were clearly visible. Though it was his eyes that disturbed Riley the most, even in his state, while they had the pale and blood shot madness that all vampires had, they remained the soft blue of normal human eyes.
“I’m Valiain.” His voice was soft, almost without accent, though a Scottish drawl faintly underlined it.
“Fuck off.” Riley’s words were slurred.
Valain looked pained, “My dear boy, drink is not the answer.” His soft cultured voice was filled with sad, but slightly disapproving tone.
“Fuck! Off! You! Fag!” Riley slurred in response, he tried to stand but alchol had made him unsteady.
“I assure dear boy, I’m not a cigarette, but drink is not the answer to your pain.” Valain was suddenly beside him, a cold hand resting firmly on his shoulder keeping him in his seat, but the touch was surprisingly reassuring.
“Really, seems to be working just fine.” Riley slumped back into his seat.
“Ahh but in the morning, it’ll still be there, but with a headache from hell." Valain admonished in a gentle, fatherly fashion. "But I can.”
“What?” Riley snapped in response.
“Make the pain go away.” Valian whispered in response, his voice filled suddenly with dark promise.
Despite himself, Riley looked interested.
XxxX
Buffy, Willow, Anya and now Xander sat round the conference table in the Magic Box. Buffy had an ice pack wrapped around her ankle, and a headache growing in her head, it was not helped by Willow and Anya’s bickering over what the list meant, something about ‘mucklewort.’ She didn’t really care, she was angry and in pain so much so that even Xander’s lame attempts at humour weren’t helping.
Giles choose that moment to walk back into his shop; he seemed to be in a good mood, meaning his trip to
England had obviously gone well.
“…you were at the Kop?”
What!! The Scooby Gang thought as one.
Spike followed Giles into the store, the two clearly having a friendly conversation.
“What can I say, me and thousands of Scousers singing: ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, as we thrashed you.”
“Yeah, but we still won the league.” Spike countered petulantly.
“Yeah but, 2-nil, 2-nil, 2-nil,” Giles sang making a pointing gesture at an annoyed Spike.
“Well,” the bleached blond vampire sniffed.
“And we’re gonna do the treble.”
“Till you meet Barca, they’re gonna give yer a damn good kicking.”
Giles shrugged, then started whistling an off key version of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone.’
Spike grumbled miserably, as he flopped into a nearby chair, but it was clear that both men were enjoying themselves.
The rest of the Scoobies believed they were having ‘Twilight Zone’ experience.
Spike looked momentarily sympathetic as he looked at Buffy’s swollen ankle, but hid it behind his usual sarcasm. “Shouldn’t were those heels love, bad for yer.”
Buffy just glared.
“Tea?” Giles called from his office.
“Got any blood?”
A few seconds later a bag of blood flew across the shop Spike caught it easily.
“Safer than Seaman.” He called.
The rest gagged, not wanting to get that reference.
“I can really see you in a ponytail.”
“Better than a comedy show.”
“You’re a season late Spike, we’ve gone Dutch now.” Giles corrected as he walked up to the table, sipping at his hot tea.
“Good trip?” Xander stammered out.
“Yes it was rather?” Giles beamed happily.
“So the Council was helpful?” Xander asked eagerly, the rest of the scoobies all leaned forward, hopefully looking for a glimmer of good news.
“No.” Giles answered as he sat, his face though was filled with delight.
“Then,” Buffy joined in, slightly annoyed at her Watcher and his apparent good mood.
“Saw some old friends, caught the game, it was good to be home…”
Buffy slammed her hand violently against the table, books jumped under the force of the blow. Giles sobered seeing that his slayer was unhappy, “Buffy?”
“What got your knickers in such a twist Blondie?” Spike leered.
Buffy glare would have burned him up quicker than any ray of sun.
“Buffy what’s the matter?” Giles interjected calmly, hoping to break the tension before his store got wrecked.
“A vampire came into the store, he wanting ingredients for a soulstone spell,” blood and tea spluttered over the table, “Buffy tried to stop him, but he got away.”
Anya gave a sheepish little grin at her story; she gave Xander a look asking for acceptance and support he squeezed her hand slightly. Anya beamed.
“Pardon?” All levity had dropped from Giles’ tone and a note of fear crept into it instead.
“Vampire … big wiggins … bad spell … kicked my ass.” Buffy put it succinctly.
“Well, what did he look like?”
Spike spoke instead, “Tall, blond, well dressed, tinted glasses, English accent?”
Everyone around the table stared at the English vampire.
“Spike?” Buffy growled.
“Wot?”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, bet Giles does too.” He threw the list at Giles, he looked at confused, there was something on it was oddly familiar about it.
“Mucklewort.” Pressed Spike.
“Bet he mention the name Valain?” Spike continued to press.
Giles frowned, “Oh … oh,” it came to him very quickly.
“Yeah, said not to get in his way, something about vengeance.”
The two Englishmen looked at each other. “Matthias.”
They said together.
XxxX
Ancient Rome, 700BC (Approximately).
Matthias was drunk. Mind numbing, vision impairing drunk. At 32, he was young, rich and talented, destined for political office and greatness. On the face of it, he seemed yet another Roman who’d over-indulged at some festivities. Yet on the inside Matthias was lost.
Flashes of the previous few days, passed like a blur across his eyes. Though one colour from it arose from the mass, Red. Blood Red. He’d returned early from a business meeting with the City’s rulers, he was to be the main supplier of horses to the new Roman Army.
And he wanted celebrate.
His wife, though, had not been in the main villa.
As the late evening sky turned began to darken and redden, Matthias had grown worried, and began to search his large estate. He heard female giggling coming from the bathhouse, a wicked thought touched him, his wife alone and naked in the steamy air of their bathhouse.
He sneaked in, tugging at his clothes.
His wife frolicked in the clear bath waters, but she was not alone. She was pleasuring a slave, performing acts that were disgusting, worthy only of the street trash of Rome darker quarters.
He went berserk.
The rest was a blur, he only remembered the damp wet of their blood as he attacked them, the feel of it against his skin, the taste in his mouth, he destroyed the beauty of the man and women before him, turning the white bathhouse into a deep red.
When the bloodlust ended he’d just ran, and ran, collapsing in a heap in the dusty streets of Rome in summer, the beggars, the thieves, even the disease carrying mosquitoes that dwelled in the dark recess of the city ignored him.
The Guards had found him, they’d cleaned and dressed him. They’d be no charge, it would simply be forgotten, they’d placed him in the nearest tavern, no husband could blame him his actions, they’d threatened the tavern-keeper into giving him whatever he wanted.
So there he sat, mumbling incoherently on a beautiful Roman night.
“What troubles you dear boy?”
A man appeared in front of him, fully dressed in heavy black clothes, unusual in the stifling heat of the summer.
Matthias began to cry drunkenly, strong arms enveloped him, the hold was comforting fatherly.
“Shh, drinking’ll not help, you’ll just wake feeling even worse.”
“I don’t want to wake tomorrow, I don’t deserve to see the sun again.” Matthias wailed, his voice filled with equal parts of pain and hate.
“Why?” The man pressed softly.
Haltingly, through his slurred words he told his story, trusting the strange man, despite the horror of his tale.
“I can help.” Came the other man's soft promise.
“How” Matthias snarled scornfully.
“I can make the guilt go, the pain just an amusing memory.” The other man's voice was filled with absolute belief in his words.
“Really?” Matthias wept.
“Yes I can give you peace, and a freedom and power you can only dream about.”
Matthias’ blurred vision focused for the first time on the strangers strangely distorted features. “Do it.” He gulped.
The face shifted into a vision of madness and horror, his body weakened and his head spun, he was dying, a monster from the depths of Hades was punishing him, he relaxed into the approaching blackness, a strange metallic taste trickled into his mouth.
Hungrily he sucked at it.
XxxX.
Matthias awoke screaming.
He huddled in the corner of his room, the nightmare of his turning still lingering in his mind; it had been centuries since he’d dreamed of that night, not since…
It was night in Sunnydale now. It brought with two things, the knowledge that Valain was here, this was met with a deep foreboding, and the other filled him with sadness:
He was hungry.
XxxX
Riley awoke, he was confused and his head pounded, but not with expected hangover. It was his soul fighting a rising hunger, one that threatened to overwhelm him.
A war raged in his body, as it changed. Sense heightened and muscles loosened, the nagging controls of his conscience dissolved, and as the Earth began to sing to him, he felt a new source of power envelope him.
It was exhilarating.
It was freedom.
It was terrifying.
“Feed.” A voice encouraged.
Yellow eyes focused on a young girl, a struggling street hustler, her body tired through years of abuse, to weak to fight against the strong arms that held her.
He smiled.
And his soul screamed.
He grabbed the prostitute burying his face in her neck, his fangs tearing at her skin, her blood rushed into him, warming his body, as hers cooled.
She did not even have time to scream.
As her dead body slumped to the floor, his soul died and the demon howled in triumph.
XxxX.
“Who?”
They all said together.
“Matthias,” he sighed. “Matthias is a vampire. He was turned about 3000 years ago, just as Rome was emerging….” He stopped.
“And?”
“He’s a master vampire, it is said that he made the Master that you fought Buffy. He is different from any vampire you’ve fought, he isn’t just a normal ancient vampire, predominately he retains his human features despite his great age, he is stronger, faster than other vampires, faster than the human eye even. It is the legacy of his sire Valain.” Giles closed his eyes, not wanting to continue, not wanting Buffy to face either of the two ancient vampires, simply because she would die.
“You’re right there, Rupert. He’s killed at least 20 slayers in his time; made Angelus, that big poofter, the scourge of a bloody continent, look like a virginal choirboy. He can just blip around, it’s bloody cool.” Spike added his own spin of Matthias' story.
“Anything else?” Buffy exclaimed loudly.
“He’s my friend.” Giles whispered.
Everyone was stunned in silence.
“He’s not that bad.” Spike said into the silence. “Now his Sire, Valain, he’s a bloody nutter, you know Kakistos, the one that psycho slut slayer killed, he made him. Dumped him though, too bloody weak.” Spike licked the last drops of blood. “They bloody hate each other.”
“Why?” Anya asked.
“Not sure, something ‘bout a women, but 500 years ago, Matthias just stopped, took on Valain, it’s a bloody war, they’ve razed cities with their fighting. Don’t get between ‘em, luv, you’ll die.” Spike finished, though with a touch of melancholy, rather than his usual glee.
“Spike is right.” Giles said firmly. “Buffy I’ll talk to him, perhaps if he gets what he wants he’ll just go.” His tone said he didn’t quite believe that.
“Oh great, first you sell made woman stuff to make a giant snake,” Anya ranted. “Now you want to give a master vampire soulstone magic. Xander, can we go to Hawaii and make love on the beach, Giles is mad and dangerous, I’m not sure if I should work here anymore, even if I get to fondle money.”
Everything paused for a second; it was the normal response to Anya’s rants.
Buffy stood up, ignoring the light pain in her ankle, and despite her small frame loomed over Giles, her face accusing.
“Don’t Buffy, I’ll sort this, I promise.” He left abruptly.
Buffy followed quickly, muttering about patrolling.
The rest of the Scoobies turned to Spike, “Wot?”
XxxX
Giles was lost in his own thoughts, and didn’t notice his shadow.
Sometimes he hated his past, especially the Ripper part of it, it was a time in his life that however much he tried would never go away. Logically, he knew he was a better person because of it, but it didn’t help him now.
He sighed, he would find Matthias, and sort it all out, he had one comforting thought though at least Arthur wasn’t around.
XxxX
The dreams came again; she was beginning to forget a time when they didn’t haunt her.
Click! Click! Click! Click!
The rhythmic clicking, like high heels across a polished surface came first.
Then the shadows twitched, and her body began to twitch at an unseen danger.
The darkroom clouded, a thick mist ascended from bellow enveloping her, it was light by a yellow light, that appeared to come from nowhere and everywhere all at the same time.
And the clicking continued.
“Hey Spencer,” the gruff voice crashed into her nightmare.
She sat up, covered in sweet, her body twitching uncontrollably.
A piece of paper floated down on her pillow.
She knew what it said, it was always the same: “What Lies beyond Perception?
Redemption. For in my Redemption not even, Gods, Monsters or Mortals may touch. -AB” It had come with every nightmare.
……Allan Finch’s body slid down the alley wall, his blood flowed past her fingers, fear filled his eyes as the life slipped away…
Faith began to cry, she huddled at the corner of her cell, afraid to return to the bed, and the nightmares that it brought.
XxxX
His new childe stiffened beside him as the slayer walked past, he felt the desire to attack flow through the new vampire.
“No, wait.”
An assassin demon leapt out at the Slayer, it thin agile body attempting to end her life. The slayer barely paused in her movements, quickly but brutally snapping the demons neck.
Valain watched through lidded eyes, the slayer’s grace and violence, sent a little shudder of pleasure through his body.
“Excellent.” There was a touch of awe in his tone
“He failed though.” Riley commentated on the death of the demon, his new master had paid it a small fortune, and it had failed to raise even a sweat on the blonde’s body.
“She’s my prize, my dear boy, she will make an excellent addition to my family, and through her I shall bring the world to its knees, Matthias will die, and my ascension shall be glorious.” The ancient vampire’s tone had become dream-like.
“But…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll share in my glory, just as you’ll be the instrument that brings it about.”
Riley grinned at his Sire’s words, and the meaning, he licked his lips in anticipation as he watched the Slayer continue on her patrol.
XxxX
Oh, shit! Giles thought, his senses picked up on his shadow, and he got a sinking feeling deep in his stomach.
Very stupid old boy! He spat at himself angrily. Storming out in Sunnydale, alone, at night, was on a scale of stupid ideas up there with smoking during a major gas leak, and as deadly.
Giles stopped.
His stalker did not.
XxxX.
Glory had told Mikhail to follow any of the slayers friends to discover the key, in truth the vampire did not care about her key, just easy food and staying alive, to get one he followed the mad hell god, the other meant he had to do it absolutely.
His current project was taking a short cut through a darkened alley, and he was desperately trying not to give into the temptation it presented.
The human stopped just in a darkened doorway.
Nope, Mikhail thought, too much.
XxxX.
Vampire dust suddenly covered Giles; he coughed as the dry remains that caught in his throat.
He wasn’t sure what had happened, he’d stopped waiting for the vampire to attack, instead it had flown past him headless, its body imploding.
“Buffy!”
A bark of laughter answered him, male laughter.
“I’m afraid my dear Ripper, I just wouldn’t fit in that dress.” Matthias stepped into the alley proper, while a dull thud followed his sudden appearance. The body of a large man fell at his feet.
Giles winced.
Matthias’ features slipped back into their almost human appearance; carefully he wiped his mouth with a black silk handkerchief.
“You’d think muggers in this town would be at least vampiric would you?” He said sadly.
Giles shrugged, still unnerved by the pale body in front of him.
The tall vampire frowned at him, looking angry as he darted forward, then at the last moment he enveloped the startled man in huge hug.
He laughed. “Its good to see you again Ripper, I’ve missed you since you came to this land. Arthur said you were the watcher now, I didn’t believe, despite the slayer’s presence. But here you are.” The ancient vampire laughed and hugged him again.
“How is Arthur?” Giles squeaked
“As chaotic as ever, sends his regards, still searching for his daughter, and that ugly bauble of his.” Matthias’ tone turned stern, “And by the way, I’m fine, thank-you very much, nice of you to ask.”
He grabbed Giles’ shoulder, “Come lets go get a drink.” They walked out of the alley, “You know Rips bloody silly to wait in alleys, especially in this town, good thing I was around.”
XxxX
Buffy limped towards the Magic Box.
In the last hour she’d killed another four of the strange demons, on top of an unusually high number of vamps. Her muscles throbbed in pain, and it hurt to breathe.
From a nearby alley, she felt yet another vampiric presence watching her, she was too tired too care anyway.
It was probably Spike, “fucking freak”, she muttered under her breath.
From the alley Riley watched, seeing the Slayer wounded sent hunger and lust through his dead body.
‘Soon,’ his Sire’s voice echoed in his head, as he disappeared into the night.
XxxX
The fog was everywhere, closing in around her like a vice, her senses screamed again, and that horrid clicking sound began to assault her hearing again.
The fog began to clear.
Revealing a woman.
“No!!”
Faith screamed, fear and grief quickly turned her hoarse scream into heavy sobs.
The tears flowed freely.
Her screams awoke the other inmates, shouts and banging followed, and chaos began to erupt.
In the corridor, a shadow began to disappear, it lavender eyes sparkled in night; Soon, it thought.
XxxX
“So Valain is here?” Giles cut quickly to the heart of the matter.
Matthias stopped; his drink hovered just short of his lips.
“Yes.” He whispered.
“And you’re here to kill him?”
“Yes.” He spoke louder, firmer this time.
“..And the spell?”
“It will stop him,” Matthias answered the unasked question in Giles’ voice. “It will harm no one else, it will not end the world, just Valain.”
“Promise?”
He nodded.
“On Mel’s grave?” Giles pressed.
The Vampire’s face tightened.
XxxX.
Salisbury Plain, England. 1401.
Matthias jogged into the grounds of Melandria’s house, dawn was peeking over the horizon, and getting caught and burnt by its rays would earn him the type of tongue-lashing he did not enjoy.
He smelt if first.
A crazed hunger rose in him.
Blood!
Human Blood!
Fear turned his stomach into acidic fury.
“Mel!” He shouted over and over again as he approached the house, though with every shout, No! Echoed in his mind.
Logic disappeared then; he saw her white dress lying trampled in the mud.
He frowned, she’d hate that, he picked it up, trying to rub of the mud, and dull red liquid spilled on it off, he couldn’t let her favourite dress be ruined.
And the house was such a mess, she hated mess, she’d be so angry.
So very angry.
He picked up fallen pans, and broken crockery.
His foot trod in a sticky puddle, disturbing flies that been hovering over it.
She’d be really really angry.
He looked around for a cloth anything to pick up the sticky black liquid.
He noticed her then, and she was so Red, so very angry.
He blinked back the tears that fought at the corners of his eyes.
She’ was naked and pale, her body had been crucified, an evil parody of that holy symbol. Vampire bites covered her body, none had healed letting her life’s blood slip away from her.
He collapsed to the floor, a white huddle in crying in another’s blood, like so many centuries ago.
XxxX
“Matthias.”
The glass shattered in his hand, sending the dark wine everywhere, tears welled in his eyes.
“Matthias.” Giles called again, worried for his friend.
“I promise on Mel’s grave that I am here for Valain alone.” He choked the promise out.
“Thank-you, I’ll get you what you asked for.” Giles said sadly.
The vampire sighed, collapsing in on himself, looking lost and weak.
“I’m sorry.” Giles breathed.
Matthias nodded, and a little of his normal stature returned.
“Giles,” a nervous voice stuttered. Willow stood at their table, and she looked scared.
“Yes Willow, what is it?” Giles said warmly, trying to reassure the redhead.
“Buffy’s hurt.”
“Where?” Giles felt as if he’d been punched, Oh God!
“The Magic Box, its not too bad but….”
“I’ll go.”
Willow nodded, a look of relief in her eyes. Giles though noticed something else, the redhead looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, not since Tara had left.
He made a snap decision. “I’ll go now, here’s some money for a cab, go home, get some sleep.”
“But.”
“No buts, I want you to go home and sleep, Buffy will be fine. Go.” His English accent carried both his concern and his resolve.
“I’ll see her home.” Matthias blurted.
Giles looked momentarily torn, then nodded.
“I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, and sped off into the night.
Giles looked as if he would follow, “Go look after your charge, I’ll keep her safe.” Giles didn’t even pause, merely mumbling his thanks before darting off.
As he jogged in the other direction, he knew Willow would be safe, but if Buffy found out, he might not be.
XxxX
Matthias easily caught up with the young woman. “Wait,” he called.
“Go away” she snapped, and sped up, all but running.
Again he caught up with her. “I said: I’ll see you safe?”
“Fuck off.” She shouted, giving him a hard push. He tripped and fell flat on his face.
“Fuck.” He spat, when he saw she’d gone. Ripper was not going to be happy.
XxxX
She sat on the edge of one of the town’s numerous cemeteries; tears fell freely down her pretty feature. Pain welled in her as she squeezed a metal necklace till her hand turned white.
“Who was he?” Matthias called, sitting next to her.
“What?” She snapped, annoyed that he’d found her.
“Who was he, the person you lost?”
She didn’t answer.
“Its not worth it, the pain, I mean, its not worth sitting here waiting for something to end it all in the night.”
How did he know!! Her mind screamed, stunned.
“What the fuck do you know, you’re just a vamp?”
She didn’t notice his face cloud with pain.
“Suit yourself,” he snarled, “I hope you’re happy in your grave.”
“What do you know? I see her every day, I close my eyes and I can see her smile, I see her on the street, I can even feel her at night, laughing, stuttering, loving me. I miss her so much.” She cried at his back, her pain making her unable even to stand.
He turned and gently he pulled her into his arms, his own tears brushing against his cheeks.
XxxX
Salisbury Plain, England. 1400.
“I see you up,” Matthias called from the horse pen.
Melandria slumped against the cottages doorway with a yawn. The steam from her warm drink gently bathed her face. A small smile crossed her pretty features as she watched her lover work, and despite the darkness he seemed so alive whilst he trained the horse.
“How she doing?” She called as she approached the pen.
Pride filled his face, “she’ll be a good horse, she young, strong, a little stubborn and wild, but a good horse.”
“So a bit like me.” She grinned.
He removed the training rope, and jogged over to his lover.
“Yes.” He kissed her deeply, marvelling in her warmth and strength; he nuzzled her long fine hair, hair so blond that it was almost white.
The healer grinned, and pulled away from him.
He laughed, leaping from the pen, he caught her easily.
“Just like you,” He whispered, “I love you.”
It was the first time he’d said it to her, and her reaction was instant, the smile that lit up her face danced in her eyes, her eyes watered as he repeated the words.
“I love you!” He shouted and spun her around.
She kissed him deeply, “I love you too,” she whispered into his lips; she saw his face too light up, a perfect mirror to her own happiness.
XxxX
“I know,” he whispered. “I know.” His own tears making his voice heavy
“I never got to say goodbye,” she murmured into his chest again.
He winced in sympathy, he understood all to well what it was like to have love ripped from him, and as he rocked the young woman back and forth, other memories came back to him, that of holding a warm, living body close. Slowly his tears began to fall.
“What was her name?” He choked out.
“Tara.”
“H-How did she die?”
“She left,” Willow cried.
“I’m sorry. Why?”
“They made her go, they made her leave me.” Willow hiccuped, though Mathias could still feel the bitterness behind the words.
“Why?” He asked again, his voice as soft as hers.
“They thought she was a demon, she cast a spell to hide, but it made all demons invisible, we-we were attacked, I was knocked out, w-w-when I came to, they’d made her leave, the last time I saw her she ran into the shop, she was so scared.” She babbled her last memories of Tara.
Her tears made her stop momentarily, “Buffy made her go, forced her to go with her family, they made her leave. I love her so much.” Matthias noticed the wording; it was an admission of present love, one that had not yet been lost.
“I hate them.” She whispered, finally she looked up into the ancient vampire’s face, and saw for the first time the pain that echoed in his eyes.
“Who was she?” Willow asked.
“Melandria, a healer, I loved her so very much.”
“Were you…”
“A vampire, yes, a great and terrible one, but she still healed me, and I fell in love, she made me feel…human.” His voice faded and broke during his own confession. “It was why she was killed,” he spoke the truth that had haunted his nights.
Something bothered him about her story, his mind clearing from its grief, “the sp-.“ He never finished as his senses exploded.
“A new toy Matthias.” His name was pronounced as ‘matt-he-ass,’ only one thing did that.
Valain. His sire.
XxxX.
Salisbury Plain, England. 1401.
He did not know how long he’d lain there, just a few minutes or an entire day, as the night clung to the land.
“Look at yourself Matthias, you cry like a mortal,” a voice broke into his grief, he recognised the unusual pronunciation of his name, his human grief mixed with a demons rage, only one thing said his name like that: Valain, his sire. Clarity struck him, Valain who liked to bleed his victims to death, strung in a parody of a symbol that could harm him.
“Why?” He snarled through his tears.
“She made you weak, dear boy, I could not allow that.”
Demon fuelled rage engulfed his grief completely.
XxxX
His rage grew.
“Run!” he snapped at Willow.
She was rooted to the spot out of fear, as she watched Matthias’ features contort in his vampiric visage, pain and madness lined his eyes as the glistened with pain, turning the warm blue into a malevolent purple. His face was so much more vampiric then any she’d seen before, more defined, more demonic, it was a true vision of fear and hate.
“Run now!” He snapped again, he gave her a heavy push and her survival instincts kicked in, and she ran.
XxxX
Salisbury Plain, England. 1401.
With an animalistic savagery Matthias attacked his sire, screaming his rage and grief as he launched himself over the broken cottage. But in his anger Matthias had forgotten his Sire’s power, and was far too slow, Valain simply ’blipped’ out of the way.
Sadness touched the elder vampires face. “Look what you’ve become, my dear Matthias, weak and tainted by humanity,” he spat scornfully. “She’d corrupted you, don’t you see?” The sadness was deep within his at his protégé’s plight.
“No,” Matthias snarled as he lunged again, “you took what was good and pure, you’re the corruption. I will see it cleansed.” He caught a surprised Valain then, driving them both to the floor with a dull thump, straddling his sire, he brought the broken leg of a nearby chair down, a triumphant sneer on his twisted face.
Two of Valain's minions tackled him, driving him from their master before he could strike the killing blow. Valain stood easily, his face relaxing back to his almost human features he backhanded his struggling childe, stunning him with its force.
“I’ll forgive you that, this time. Next time either beg for my forgiveness or be prepared to die.” He grabbed Matthias’ face, and squeezed, the younger vampire, squirmed and screamed as his bones shattered under the powerful grip, ”understand!”
“I’m going to kill you Valain.” Matthias slurred, spitting his blood into the others face.
Valain’s face darkened, and with a nod, he turned his back.
“I’m going to kill you.” Matthias choked out between the blows that fell, those hate filled words echoed in Valain’s ears long after the beating had ended.
Valain dragged the broken body up by its hair, “Remember what I said.” The fire that he could still see burning in Matthias’ eyes surprised Valain.
“I’m going….”
XxxX
“…to kill you Valain.”
Valain was still surprised by the hate that burned within his former protégé, every time they’d met over the centuries had made it burn ever brighter.
“Still mad Matthias,” Valain responded to the threat with bemused humour.
Matthias stepped further into the light, revealing his features to the other vampire for the first time.
Valain bit back surprise, Matthias had evolved again, in the last hundred years he’d become like Valain.
“I see you recognize my transformation,” Matthias cooed, glad at the small flicker of fear that had crossed his sire’s face. Until Valain ascended again, they were equals, despite their age. “Surprised?”
“Happy, my dear boy, very happy.” Valain forced his unease down soon it would not matter.
“Worried.” Matthia taunted.
Valain’s face-hardened, “don’t try my goodwill, boy, you’re fast becoming a nuisance.”
“I’m terrified,” Matthias spat sarcastically. “You’ll not ascend Valain, I will stop you.”
Valain looked genuinely surprised for a second, then the anger returned. “Oh my dear boy, you’ve just run out of time.”
With a tiny hand gesture Valain’s minions attacked the solitary Matthias.
XxxX
Willow collided with a heavy body, driving the wind from her tired body.
“Bloody Hell Red.” The person growled.
Oh thank god, she thought.
“Spike, vampires.”
“This is Sunnydale luv, what did ya expect, free candy.” He snorted, rubbing his chest.
“No,” she panted, “Matthias…Valain…chasing me?”
“Wot?!” Spike stepped in front of her, his eyes darting around the shadows. “Nah, Mattie‘ll be fine,” he muttered.
“What … about … me?”
“Don’t worry Red, you’re not important enough for him.” Though his senses enhanced by the chip, prickled something was definitely not right here. “But let’s get ya back to Giles’.”
He moved her along quickly.
Riley fumed in the shadows, he’d been so close, he pointed at the vampires accompanying them, this prey had eluded him, but not for long.
XxxX
Tara was trying to shrink back into her hood. She stared at the floor, not looking up, hoping no one would notice the hooded…demon…carrying shopping.
Thud! Rip! Crash!
Oh shit, oh shit she thought. She watched as her groceries disappeared down the road. Looking up briefly, she saw that she’d bumped into a young couple, juice dripped down the man’s clothes.
Oh god! Oh god! Oh God! Her mind races, “I’m sorry,” she babbled and stuttered over and over again. She desperately tried to retreat back into her hood, hoping she could get away, it wasn’t working.
Her hood was down.
Oh Shit!!
Azelle watched her lover with obvious amusement, pink and orange juice dripped down his lightly coloured clothes. Matthew took up an indignant pose at her look, but there was an amused glint in his eyes, she rolled her eyes dramatically before going to help the girl.
Tara looked up as a cold hand brushed against her shoulder, and into the face of a very attractive women, long black hair framed her classical Celtic features, with deep green eyes as the centrepiece.
Tara’s magical senses clicked as she studied the face, she desperately tried to back away from the familiar aura.
Her frantic attempts to get away revealed Tara’s face in its full glory, Azelle stiffened, and Matthew let out a surprised ‘bloody hell.’
XxxX
Giles looked up at Buffy’s sleeping form, she looked so peaceful in sleep, and he smiled, he truly loved the girl, despite her sometimes-trying personality and bad calls.
He grinned louder as she mumbled gibberish in her sleep; it was at times like this he truly wished that Buffy had had a different destiny.
She was truly having a horrid time, one that he wished he could remove with a magic word, her mothers illness and Riley’s infidelities, caused his beloved slayers so much pain, that he’d wanted the Ripper to emerge and beat the soldier into a bloody pulp.
He lost himself in that vision briefly, but he shook it off or however it would make him feel it wouldn’t help. He knew she’d be okay she always bounced back. Willow was a different story; she’d become more distant in the past month, so mu….
His musing was interrupted as the girl in question and Spike burst into the magic shop, quickly followed by a small gang of vampires.
“What the bloody….” He exclaimed before a vampire collided with him.
XxxX
Tara stumbled backward frantically, trying to get way from the two people who’d seen her true face.
She tried to cover her face with her arms.
Azelle frowned at Matthew, her eyes telling him to do something.
“Hey,” he called softly, “don’t be afraid, we’re not going to hurt you, we want to help.” His kindly English voice was filled with concern.
“Aye lass, tell us what happened,” Azelle’s thick Irish brogue backed her lover up.
A warm hand gently touched her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Matthew pressed.
Couldn’t they see? At least one of them should understand.
She had to run.
Had to get away.
Tara bolted startling them, but she didn’t make it far, clumsy feet caught the shopping bag, wrapping it around her feet. She fell, her head collided with the floor, with a hollow thud.
Blackness closed around her, as she felt gentle hands stroking her hair.
“Willow,” she murmured before the darkness took her.
XxxX
Chaos descended amongst Valain’s minions as Matthias simply disappeared, leaving the confused vampires to fight amongst themselves as they tried to escape from the confused melee.
Valain fumed.
“You’ll have to try harder, old man.” Matthias laughed, before disappearing.
Valain snapped and attacked his own men, tearing into them, none survived his wrath, and as their dust fell around him, his anger slowly ebbed away as Valain vowed that Matthias would not survive this time.
XxxX
Buffy awoke with a jolt as a vampire bumped into her cot, lashing out on pure instinct, one her constantly present stakes was driven into its back, it dusted without realising what had happened.
Shaking of the dull ache she angrily joined the fray.
Spike rugby tackled one of the larger vampires; wrestling it to ground, before plunging a stake into its chest. Willow killed one with the ‘floating pencil’ trick, while Giles quickly decapitated another with the short sword he kept beneath the counter. Buffy calmly killed two others, letting some of her pain and frustration work itself out by pounding them into submission first.
“I hate having my sleep interrupted. Understand.” She gripped between killing the last of the two.
She threw her stake into the final vamps back; it dusted as reached for the door.
It might be rude, she thought bitterly, but it’s darn effective.
Spike stretched, “Just what the doctor ordered, spot of violence before bed.” He looked at Buffy, ”Remind me never to wake you up.”
Buffy frowned, ignoring the leering vampire. “What’s going on?”
Giles shrugged, he wanted to know too.
“Seems Red pissed off Valain.”
“You saw him?” Giles stammered, it would explain the hunting party, few mortals ever saw that vampire and lived, and it was of the reasons as to how he had remained hidden.
“Kinda,” Willow breathed heavily, “I heard someone say your friends name funny.”
“How?” Giles interrupted.
“Matt, he, ass.” Giles nodded, he knew of that ancient vampires peculiar way of saying his friend’s name.
“Wait, Matt-he-ass, as in fuck-off great master vamp, matt-he-as.” Buffy stormed.
Giles had the grace to look guilty, ”Yes,” he mumbled.
“And what was my best friend doing with him?” She said dangerously.
“He was walking me home.” Willow offered meekly.
“Buffy, calm down, what was I meant to do, leave Willow alone at night. She was safe with Matthias.”
“Oh real safe, now we got a master vampire war, and they’re after my best friend. That’s real safe Giles.” She shouted at her watcher.
“Buffy,” he said slowly. “Everything’s fine, Willow is safe, and it can wait until morning, now Spike will see Willow home, and I’ll take you home.”
“Come on Red,” Spike said casually.
XxxX
Allan Finch’s terror filled face suddenly filled Faith’s mind. She could feel his blood on her hands, hear his last gasping breaths in her ears, and could see his eyes as they dimmed into death. Her hands hammered the punch-bag through that haze, trying to drive that moment away, banish it from her mind.
A rhythmic clicking began to force its way into her mind.
She wasn’t asleep.
Was she?
Tears appeared in her eyes.
Pain travelled up her arms, growing more intense with every instinctive punch against the heavy bag.
She stopped, looking at her hands.
Oh look, she thought, I can feel the blood now.
She started to giggle.
Her eyes registered a strangely dressed man staring at her intently, his half smirk, was the last thing she saw before blacking out.
XxxX
Tara awoke with the sun warming her face. Her head throbbed, and her mouth was dry, he tried to sit up, but pain shot down her sides. She tried to take stock of her surroundings, the room was white and sterile, a disinfectant smell irritated her nostrils but it couldn’t quite mask a strange odour that reminded her of disease. A large window let sunlight pour into the small room.
She knew exactly where she was, a private hospital room, it was a place she hated almost as much as her cramped home. Images of her mother’s body, kept alive by the steady hum of machines, as the drugs she’d taken slowly killed her.
A small sob caught in her throat.
Why was she here?
Oh god, they’d see her, oh no, she started to panic.
“Calm down,” a voice spoke to her, it was familiar, a well-dressed young man stood in the doorway, desperately she tried to rush past him, and escape.
He stood firm, but as knocked into him the drinks he was carrying spilt, he jumped in pain, he tried to shake off the hot liquid. She lunged again, this time he caught, careful though to not spill any of the tea on her.
“Calm down, I’m not going hurt you.”
In her weakened state she couldn’t get passed him, instead she huddled in a shaded corner, covering her head in her arms.
Placing the drinks down, Matthew shook his head sadly. “You know being around you is bad for my wardrobe.” He joked weakly.
He stepped towards her, as he did so she tried to retreat further into the wall.
He crouched in front of her.
“Hello, I’m Matthew Davies,” he slowly extended his hand, “I’m here to help.”
She recognised him then, he was one of people she’d collided with last night, memories flooded back, she also knew what he was.
She huddled further into herself.
“Okay, would you like some tea? I’ve got sugar, but I didn’t how many, or what type.” He emptied his pockets, bringing out a large handful of various sugars and sweeteners. He grinned sheepishly.
She couldn’t sense any danger from him.
“Two” she mumbled.
“Good,” he quickly poured two sugars into a cup, before handing it too her, she grabbed it quickly, tightly grasping its comforting warmth. “Okay so you know my name, what’s yours?”
“Tara.”
“Hi, I’m Matthew, we met last night.” He stuck out his hand again.
She took it quickly, before returning to her drink, his hand had been warm.
Frowning she looked at him properly. He was well dressed in a dark suit; it reminded Tara of the few lawyers she met. Though the dark maroon shirt and tie were not in keeping with the conservative style of his clothes. His mousy coloured hair was short but scruffy as if it couldn’t be quite be tamed, his face was thin and a little too long, but it had warm, dark brown eyes, eyes that asked to be trusted.
She hid behind her hair remembering the previous night.
“There’s no need to be afraid, I won’t bite,” he joked. “Now Azie might, but me no.”
“Who?”
“Azie,” he said calmly, “my girlfriend, the vampire.”
Her eyes widened with shock.
XxxX.
The prison psychologist shifted uncomfortably, while it was no one thing, the short man standing beside made her very uneasy.
He was certainly attractive, his almost feline like features, framed by long and thick, blood red hair, would have earned him more than just a second glance. His lavender eyes were more compelling than spine chilling, and while his dress could only be described as gothic, but there was no ordinary Goth would have had the style, taste or the money to carry it off.
It wasn’t then the way he looked that made her uncomfortable per se. The way that every time he clicked his cane made the patient in the soundproof room flinch, was a definite start, as did the way he hadn’t wavered in watching her for twenty minutes. More than this though, was the air of raw almost magical, power that circled him, making the aura that he gave off seem almost supernatural.
Nah, she dismissed, she was being silly, it was just tiredness, next she would be believing in vampires.
“When may I see her?” It was the first time he’d spoken. He had a soft English accent, it had an almost hypnotic quality to it, and it had the same confidence that clung to his body.
“She’s heavily sedated now, and will probably be unresponsive for the next day or so.”
His cane tapped the glass, “are you sure, doctor?”
The patient was screaming.
“Oh dear god,” she ran into another room.
He watched her disappear, and then with a small gesture of his cane, the supposedly locked door sprang open.
And with a smirk, Lord Arthur Belmertin entered.
tbc....
Edited by: Crazed Attourney at: 5/28/03 1:57:20 pm
at: 12/28/03 12:46 am