Chapter 8: Going Rogue - Part 1

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[Guest House]

::Sam was hurt she could tell the two of them were upset cause she didn't know the dead girls names yet. Well excuse her she just met them before coming on this mission and hadn't had the time to really get to know them. Sam picked up her weapons as Riley walked back in.::

Riley: "Come on Riley. I guess I'll have you come with me. We shouldn't be gone that long anyway."

::Sam waited while Riley gathered up some weapons before leaving the guest house. Once outside they headed up the path that lead to the monastery.::
 
[Sewer]

Silent and still Faith stood, back against the wall, listening to the splashes of sewage as the demon drew closer. The Scythe filled her with strength, a new strength, as she gripped it tightly with hands firmly in place. Waiting, hunting, it gave her a rush.While most would be afraid Faith felt a high as she tuned out all other sounds but its foot steps. She was ready. This came naturally to her.

'You got this. Confirm and kill. This bastard isn't getting away with killing my girls.'

As the demon turned the corner she gazed at its beetie red eyes. There was no mistaking it. This was a demon. The demon.

Confirming was a nasty habit she picked up after.. after she accidentally killed her first victim. Faith couldn't risk not confirming. This allowed for the demon to spot her. It rushed forward tackling her into the wall before she could bring down the Scythe on it. It fell from her hands as she fell to the ground. She tried to push it off but it's had both hands wrapped around her head and plunged her skull into the ground. She heard a crunching sound with the ground. Submerged in god knows what she didn't dare open her eyes, but she could feel blood flowing from the back of her head. It lifted her head up and again slammed it into the ground. She coughed as water spilled into her mouth. She struggled for the Scythe but she couldn't reach it, or see it beneath the sewage.

As the demon lifted her head up for another go at drownage she kicked up, making contact with its stomach. She heard something crunch, when she opened her eyes he was getting up, and there was a splatter stain where he hit on the adjacent wall. She felt for the scythe but all she felt was the ground. It rushed once again for her. She rolled out, and it collided with the hard stone wall. She spotted the Scythe out of the corner of her eye. It lay between them.

The demon let out a battle cry and came towards her. It swung it's arms, but Faith ducked and countered with a right hook to it's temple, then an upper cut with her left. It didn't seem affected. It pushed her back, then swung hitting her in the face. She braced the wall with her hands and wiped the blood from her mouth as it growled. She turned blocking another blow then slammed her fists into it's chest. It took a few steps back. Faith crouched almost instantly and swept away it's feet. The demon came crashing down towards the ground. Faith reached for the Scythe amongst the muck and grime. She had it. The demon's eyes widened in awe as it spotted it in her hands. That awe didn't last long. She came down with a crushing blow to the neck, severing the monsters head from its ugly body from it's body.

It's mouth was open in shock as it's head came off. A clean cut. Its head slowly rotated, facing the water as it floated away. She dropped to her knees in relief and looked down at the murderer's headless corpse. "Guess I ain't getting any information out of you." She didn't seem to mind. She thought she had just killed the girl's killer. She could care less about finding Spike.

Blood was dripping over her shoulder, coming from her head. She spit out blood onto the demons ugly body and got to her feet. 'Should I go look for Spike? Or go clean up so I don't die?' Dieing didn't sound so bad, but she had no idea where Spike could be. Her source was dead. 'Option number two it is.'
 
[Monastery]

::Sam and Riley approached the monastry with caution. With everything that had happened Sam wasn't so sure they should trust them. Sam motioned for Riley to cover her as she approached the door. As she did she began to wonder if she should open the door and go in or should she knock first. Talk about confusing perhaps she should of asked Xander before she left the guest house. She debated for a minute before deciding to knock then if nobody answered she would go in. Sam knocked on the door just as one of the monks opened the door startling her. The monk stuck his head out looking nervously around.::

"Yes? What can we do for you?" asked the monk.

::Something about the way the monk acted bothered Sam. Was it her imagination or did the monk seem nervous to see her? Sam kept her cool.::

To the monk: "Yeah apparently some of our girls were killed while protecting the guest house. I was wondering if it was okay to bury them behind the guest house?"

::The monk quit looking around and looked directly at Sam.::

"Dead you say? When? Why didn't the one who visited us earlier mention it? What's her name? Faith? She never mentioned it."

To the monk: "I don't know. But yes they are dead. Three young girls and we would like to bury two of them and make arrangements to cremate the other one."

"Wait here let me go ask." replied the monk.

::The monk stepped back inside and closed the door. Sam looked over at Riley. The monks she concluded were definately evil and they were hiding something and now she was sure so was Faith. What ever Faith was hiding apparently had something to do with the evil monks. She was about to say something to Riley when she heard the door open and the monk appeared once again looking nervously about his surroundings as he spoke.::

"I have asked and you may either bury the two behind the guest house in the small clearing out back or you may feel free to bury them in our small cemetary where we bury our dead. However you see fit. As far the cremation of the one we will send some monks down to the house to gather her body and take it for cremation. Once it is done we bring you back a urn with her remains. Will that work?"

::The monk paused for a moment, looking around once more.::

"If you'd like I could send a couple of monks with you to bury your dead?"

To the monk: "Thanks but no thanks. We will bury them. But I will have you see to it that the one gets cremated."

The monk spoke: "Very well then. It is done. I will send some a couple monks to retrieve the body. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

To the monk: "Yes we need a couple of shovels."

"Umm shovels yes there should be a couple shovels in the shed next to the guest house. If there is nothing else I shall go then." replied the monk.

::Sam acknowledged the monk and waited until the monk shut door before turning around to leave. Well at least that was settled and they could go bury the dead girls. But Sam still had to wonder what had happened early with Faith and why she had visited the monastery.::

Riley: "Come on Riley lets go."

::Sam and Riley headed down the path to the guest house.::

[Guest house]

::Back at the guest house Sam sent Riley to the shed to find the shovels. Sam stuck her head inside the guest house to check on Dawn and Xander.::

Xander: "How are things going in here? I thought I'd let you guys know we're back and that we are going to bury Rachel and Emily in the back yard. Oh and a couple monks are coming down from the monastery to get Lisa and take her to the crematory. They will bring us her remains when they are done with the cremation."

::Sam stood there a moment.::

Xander: "The monks are acting kinda funny. Did Faith say anything about going to the monastery?"
 
Slayergal said:
Xander: "The monks are acting kinda funny. Did Faith say anything about going to the monastery?"
Click to expand...

Sam: "Not that I remember."

He pointed at his head.

Sam: "But, then again: concussion."

Xander shrugged and took a sip of his juice. His head still hurt, but it was more of an ache than a drill through the skull. His wounds were all clean and, while still swollen and tender, also not getting any worse. The possible concussion was also sort of going easier on him with the nausea and the impaired motor function and the general badness that it brought. He was feeling ready to maybe bury some girls - not with the actual shoveling, of course, but with the watching and the thinking of nice things, at least.

Funerals were about respect for the dead, and as Xander didn't find sewer stinkage very respectful, he hopped into the tub for a quick scrub prior to the burial. Mindful of Dawnie's patch-'em-up job, he kept his head above water. The result was still-greasy hair, but an otherwise minty-fresh Xander below the jawline.

The funeral was simple and Scooby-like. They buried the girls out back, had a moment of silence, and shuffled back inside.

Group: "So... reaching Buffy's a no-go. Anyone else think we should maybe attempt to go find Spike? I mean, the backup is dead. As much as I don't like the guy..."

Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, He thought of that one fluke video image of Spike and Anya together at the magic box.

Group: "And that's a lot...."

The image had been permanently seared into his brain: Anya, wearing nothing but the black bra she'd worn for him the previous Tuesday, lay on her back on the table around which the Scooby gang researched demons and ate doughnuts. But there were no books or doughnuts. Instead, there was a broken bottle of booze shoved off to the ground. Her arms and legs were wrapped around Spike - a still soulless Spike - instead of around Xander. The drape of Spike's leather coat -- the death trophy of a slayer! - had shielded most of the action from view, but Xander knew. He knew what the bobbing motion of that stupid, platinum-dyed, really abnormally large and irritating head had meant. He knew it well. He'd been the only one in a thousand years to know, at least before then.

Even that last time, when he and Anya had gone at it on the kitchen floor just like hormone-crazed teenagers they were before, that image had been there taunting him. That was part of the impetus for the action, actually. It was very primal. Very male. He'd wanted to reclaim lost territory before he died. Of course, after she'd died, that hadn't seemed very important. He'd wished it had meant more than that.

Maybe it did, to her, he thought. But, of course, he was lying to himself. And yeah, he knew it.

Group: "Like, a lot a lot, I don't much like the mental image of Buffy kicking our butts from here to the Hellmouth for getting one of her pet vamps killed - again. Besides, he did kinda save the world that one time. I'm thinkin' maybe we owe him a rescue."

Also, thinking maybe seeing Spike trashed might be a fun way to end the night. Must protect the remaining eye at all costs.
 
Drusilla continued to use various torchuring methods on Spike to see if she could get him to crack. She pulled out her best stuff and just as she was about to splash him with holy water for the 100th time she grabbed her temple pressing against it hard. She could see something in the distance. It was so close. What she needed so badly it was almost in her grasp if only she could leave, but it would certainly blow her cover. Where was Indra?

Demon: "I see one of the slayers who carries the scythe she is near by find her and do what you can to get the scythe from her and bring it back, but make sure she does not see where you came from. We don't want give away our where abouts when we are so close. HURRY!

She then turned to Spike seeing how he was doing....
 
::Sam sat there in the guest house listening to Xander. The girls were buried. There was still no sign of Faith. No one knew if or when Faith would be back. As much as Sam hated to go in with no back up all for sake of saving a vamp. Xander had a point. They need to rescue Spike. Buffy wouldn't be happy if they just left him there. Plus he could compromise the mission at anytime. If he hadn't done so already.::

Xander: "Yeah I think your right Xander. We need to attempt to rescue Spike regardless."
 
Spike let out various grunts and even the occasional yowl as Drusilla tortured the crap out of him. Pokes, not unlike the time he'd had Angel tortured; holy water splashed in the wounds. A crucifix was tied around his neck, the smoke of his own flesh burning his nostrils.

Through all of it, he smiled a feline smile of absolute hatred. She wanted her old Spikey back. Spike was willing to give her a show, to indulge her. Again, there really wasn't much else he could do.

When she pulled back, Spike squirmed. The cross was burning a hole in his chest. He moved back - which was an extremely painful event, given that Dru had driven pokers through his thighs - and hung his head outward, just to move the offending religious object away from his body. He sighed loudly. He glanced up as she swooned, in the throes of a vision.

The Slayer that bears the scythe. "About BLOODY time!" He mumbled, blood still gurgling from his lungs. His face was mottled black and blue, his shirt ripped to shreds. His chest and arms were burnt so black he was flaking - Dru has seen to that, lighting his chest and arms with the candles she had strewn about her lair. He was a bloody, bleeding mess of vampflesh and GODDAMNIT already, would someone just...

Woozy. His head swung down, his vision blurring as he stared in his lap. "Faith," he muttered. He meant to scream it, and loudly, so the ignorant little bint could hear him. "Faith..."

He blinked, once, slowly. Drusilla came out of the vision and turned to him, seemingly checking on him. "Sorry, love," he said softly, a half-smile creasing his blackened and mottled face. "Gonna have to check out soon. Ol' Spike can't play the game anymore..."

Everything was blacking out slowly. He wished for the release of a damn concussion.
 
[Monastery - Guest House, Kitchen]

Sam agreed with Xander's plan - okay, not really a plan yet, but a general outline-type-thingie - that they attempt to save Spike from his crazy ex... who happened to be a centuries-old psychic vampire and also happened to always, always escape from the Scoobies unscathed.

Is this really *my* plan? God, I must really have a concussion. Or maybe I died, and this is Hell. Yup. That's it. I'm in Hell, doomed to spend eternity saving Fang Boy's worthless hide like some sort of Sisyphus-type guy with his giant rock. Only instead of a rock, I get Spike. Yup. Hell.

But then he looked at Dawnie and the earnest, All-America types and knew it couldn't be Hell.

Besides, Anya's not here.

He drummed his fingers on the table then cast his gaze -- or at least what constituted a gaze while he was all bandaged and swollen up -- on the others one by one.

Group: "So, what? We just traipse around the sewers til we find the guy who used my skull for basketball practice and then ask him nicely to tell us where he took Spike? And yes, I said traipse."

Xander sighed.

Group: "This would be a lot easier if we had a witch. Or a slayer. How come Gwen got a witch and we didn't?"
 
::Sam looked over at Riley and then turned to Xander::

Xander: "Well Xander we don't have a witch. But...but Riley and I do have our demon tracking devices. We could use those. The tracking device should be able to pick up the demon's trail."

::Sam walked over to her gear bag a pulled out demon tracking device. She turned back around to face the group.::

Xander: "If the demon has been using the sewers to get around we should be able to pick up his trail in no time. We should start off looking in the area where we found you."

::Sam got quiet a minute. She was thinking about the tracking device, Spike, the demon, etc.::

Xander: "Too bad Spike doesn't have the chip the initiative put in his head anymore. That would have made the search a whole lot easier."
 
[Monastery - Guest House, Kitchen]

:: Xander stood and hoisted his axe. ::

Sam: "You and me both, with the chippage. Helpless Spike was helpful Spike. Like a puppy on a leash... okay, so maybe still like Jet Li's version of a puppy on a leash, but still."

:: Xander shrugged. ::

Sam: "At least he doesn't go evil everytime he gets la...."

:: He looked at Dawnie, stopped, stuttered, and then continued: ::

Sam: "Uhh... anyway, my head's feeling less split-openy than before. That's of the good, right? I'm downright functional - and not allowed to sleep for, like, the next twelve hours - so I say we go play a round of extract-the-Spike before I crash."

It was almost funny, the thought that he'd protect Dawn's delicate little ears from a word like "laid" when, not only was he certain that she'd heard it before, but he was certain that she'd seen and heard much worse from, like, demons and monsters of every description -- including Anya and about him.

Not to mention the rampant violence and death-mongering that constitutes the Scooby condition, he thought wryly.

He looked back over at her. She was eighteen, after all, all grown-up. More grown up than most, actually. Another consequence of inherited Scoobiness. If he really wanted to be honest -- which he didn't -- he'd admit that not only had the littlest Scooby undoubtedly heard the word "laid" before, she'd probably picked up some up-close-and-personal experience with it. They had caught her parking with a vamp, after all, and she was a Summers woman. Then, there'd been evil jacket boy. If he had the power to turn Buffy into a wannabe child molester, then surely the boy had taken advantage of what the jacket offered. And then, there'd been the demon spawn of Dead Boy... the one who'd set Dawnie to lurking all around the training house with wet eyes and a red nose. If that wasn't typical Summers woman + Aurelius spawn for ya, Xander didn't know what was. It was pointless to protect her from words when loverboy's psycho "sis" presented a threat of the much more real-and-present variety.

:: Xander shrugged and looked at Dawn. As a peace offering to her grown-upness, he added: ::

Dawn: "Just you wait. We find Spike, you might just wish you were blind, too, depending on what kinky little win-him-back games his ex has cooked up for him. Blindness has its perks. It comes to that, you feel free to take my other eye, K?"

Crickets.

Group: "Okay. I'm shutting up now. Have axe. Will chop stuff. Let's go."
 
[Sewer]

Faith's head was pounding. Blood stuck to her hair. It was wet and sticky, but it clung tight. She felt it. Blood. She felt it again... More blood. It had stopped flowing out, but it was still there. Her fingers were drenched in her own blood. She didn't like it. Memories of such positions were all to hard to think about. 'Blood on my hands' She really didn't like it.

The sewer's smell was weighing on her, but it was covered by the smell of her own blood. She trudged through the swampy sewage heading back towards the exit. As she turned the final corner she stopped. She heard something, someone. She looked back but there was nothing. She looked forward and saw nothing but the flickering light of the open grate. She shook her head and walked on not knowing of the danger behind her.

The metal rods which jutted from the wall allowed her to start her climb out of the sewer. The sun warmed her face as it shined through the opening. She thought she heard something behind her but she continued up. As her hand gripped the sidewalk she felt the hands of another on her legs. She turned but it was too late. Her legs were taken out from underher and she fell to the ground.

'What the...?'

She looked up, wiping her bloody hair from her eyes to see the demon. The demon's eyes were cold and dark but it wasn't staring at her. No, it was staring at at the scythe. 'One of hers' she thought. A plan formed. The demon came at her going for her head but she ducked and slammed the side of the scythe into his stomach throwing it back a few feet. 'Alright.' She had it, she knew what she was going to do.

It came at her again. She gripped the scythe tightly in her hands and let it come. It's fist slammed into her face knocking her down back into the swampy water. She waited. She didn't get up. She felt the demon try to take the scythe but she held it tight giving no chance for it to be taken from her. The demon growled and she felt its cold slimey hands across her arm. She was lifted up and strewn onto its back. It would take her right to Spike. To Drucilla.
 
palabravampiress
palabravampiress
Awesome! And poor Faith... being thrown about in sewer water. Eww.
Spike finally lost himself in the comforting confines of blackness. There was no pain here, no pokers slammed into his thighs or blackened skin flaking off in chunks. He was safe.

His dreams were anything but. His memories swam in circles, biting at his soul.

------
Drusilla and he killing and orphanage. The hot, sweet taste of young blood in his mouth. It made the demon inside yowl in joy.
------
Killing his first Slayer. The fires, exploding out of nowhere. Wreckage everywhere. The Rebellion sang.

"Sorry, love. I don't speak Chinese."
------
"I love you."

"No you don't. But thanks for saying it."

I wanna see how it ends.
------
The compound, exploding. Vampires swarming the building like insects. It made him sick - sick to be a vampire, sick to watch the carnage of his temporary home.
------
The battle in the alley. Bloody, beaten, bruised, and ready for more. Death stared him in the face and he stared right back.
------
The millions of people he slaughtered with Dru. His insides burned with regret, with remorse beyond telling.

He looked up from the neck of some idiot bint, blood staining his vampire countenance.

The girl from Drusilla's lair stood there, scythe in hand, Drusilla next to her. The girl's gaze was the same worshipful, wondering gaze it had been before. Drusilla looked at the girl adoringly, stroking her long, beautiful brunette hair with the tips of her fingers. Drusilla slid behind the girl and out the other side, her gaze playful.

"Join us," the girl said, extending her hand. "Your place is with her."

Drusilla smiled, her own face stained with blood. "Come home, Spikey. Let's be a family again!" She clapped her hands and swayed menacingly.

Spike looked down at the dead girl in his arms.

Buffy.

Spike roared, raising his face to a bloodstained sky.
------
The darkness was no longer comforting.
 
palabravampiress
palabravampiress
Oooh! Very good post! You are giving Indra a run for her crazy dream post money. :-)
S
Spirit_Of_Fred
love this post :)
Indra tossed and turned.

She could not tear from her mind images of the strange new world she inhabited. It was a world she could not share with anyone.

Am I crazy? Am I positively raving mad? Is any of this actually happening at all she wondered.

It did not seem possible, and yet it had happened all the same. She had met deva. She served the devi Kali, not symbolically with words and rituals and oils, but in body, mind and deed. She had killed for her. She would die for her.

No; it must be real, her brain insisted. I have seen her with my own eyes. With my own hands, I have stroked her hair. I have brought her offerings of human lives and watched her dine on blood. I have felt the chill of her skin. I do not think it possible for the human brain to fabricate so elaborate a hallucination.

Even more implausible to her were those would-be devi killers: the scythe bearer and her cohorts. Who that met the devi could help but fall and worship her in awe and trembling for her majesty, for her beauty, and for her power? With but a single gaze, she held monsters in her thrall, their own will insignificant and their very existence at her beck and call. Her physical strength was immeasurable and unaccountable in one so outwardly frail. The divine mind of the devi clearly resided on an alternate plane. That she deigned at all to visit her ethereal beauty onto those lost in the temporal state of samsara was a blessing beyond anything Indra could ever have imagined. Who were these ignorant dalits who dared profane against divine will?

Troubled, Indra stood and returned to the bathroom, where she leaned over the counter and, turning on the faucet, splashed cool water against her face.

Most confounding of all was the deva. What had possessed Shiva to leave his consort? Was there another? Was there a Durga? Had she, perhaps, charmed him away?

She had looked upon him. She had looked into him. She had seen in him the blinding soul of the deva. So why did he turn from his nature, from his consort, from his Kali? It unsettled her.

Again, Indra splashed water upon her face. She looked up. Her reflection - mortal, human, bound in the realm of samsara as it was - stared back at her.

"Perfect," she muttered, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out a small jar of eye cream, which she applied liberally to the bags that were forming underneath her eyes.

The heart of a twice-traitor beat beneath her breast. First, she had betrayed her family and her dharma. She had turned her back on Rajanath and on Raja. She was a liar and a killer. But that could be excused. That was done in service of the devi, and, as such, was her most sacred duty of all.

But these doubts were not the same. The effulgent one -- his firm refusal to join the devi no matter how he might love or fear her -- it made her wonder what he knew that she did not know. It made her wonder what the devi killer knew or thought they knew. It made her wonder to what greater purpose she had slain so many. Those doubts, she could not cleanse from her mind - no matter with how much force she scrubbed her face.

Indra returned to bed, but she slept no more. Instead, she lay awake and listened to Rajnath's gentle snore.
 
S
Spirit_Of_Fred
brilliant post!
[Guest House]

::Sam checked the power level in the demon tracking device. The battery was fully charged. She reached back into her gear bag for the other tracking device and pulled it out. She proceeded to check the power level on it. Once she was satisfied that the power levels were good she tossed the other tracking device to Riley and gathered up a few weapons.::

Group: "Everybody got weapons? I think we should head out like Xander says."

::Sam waited a moment for replies before heading towards the door.::
 
[Monastery - Guest House]

:: Xander, who already had his weapon of choice at the ready, just paused to grab a few pain relievers and another couple of cans of soda before they headed out, pausing to quip: ::

Group: "Why fight demons sober, right? I always knew I'd end up like my uncle Rory."

:: He grabbed a backseat and strapped in for the ride. Then, he downed the pills and one complete can of soda. ::

He put on a brave face. After all, while sewer demons were fairly new, they'd come up against Drusilla before and won. They'd come up against worse before and won. Somehow, he always ended up alive.

But never when there was a dentist's drill boring into my brain, he thought.

:: Xander shrugged. ::

It didn't matter. He always knew that, one of these days, he'd leave on a mission and not make it back. Why not today?

Heck, if I get real lucky, maybe I'll even end up in the same Hell dimension as Anya.

:: Xander made a mental note to make his last act a bad one. Something totally vengeful. Maybe go all Wrath of Khan on Captain Peroxide. ::

He had to stay awake for the next twelve hours. May as well spend them fighting for the team. Go team Scooby.

:: Xander looked over at Dawnie. ::

:: He made a mental note to protect her, too. ::

If he came back and she didn't, well... he figured Drusilla would be kinder. She, at least, was too crazy to think up a suitably horrible punishment. Buffy was in full possession of her mental capacities -- and stronger. Given a choice, he'd rather chance Betty Bedlam.
 
[Sewer]

Faith's broken body hit the ground creating a hard crunch which came right before the smacking of metal to cement as the scythe still firmly in her hands impacting the ground next to her. She waited for a sign. For Spike's voice. For Drusilla's voice. Then she would take her revenge.

She heard faint voices in the distance, but they weren't in the distance. She could feel the vibrations of footsteps around her, yet she could barely hear them. 'Am I going def?' She cringed at the thought. 'It will pass. It will pass.'

She slowly opened her eyes and for a split second her dank surroundings were revealed. This was the place, she was sure of it now. She could feel the presence of people behind her but she didn't move. Her eyes closed and she began to control her breathing. The scythe felt arm in her hands. She was ready. She began to plan her attack. 'Wait for it. Wait for it.' Then she felt it. Someone drew nearer. It was the demon. Its hard cold steps reverberating the ground beneath her. It was unmistakable. She had to act.

She moved. Her legs spun knocking the demon from its feet. It almost hovered a second then slammed, impacting the ground she once occupied. Now on her feet she smiled and brought down the scythe. The demons eye's filled with fear, its hand's raised, the scythe fell slicing off its head. It was no more. She looked up. A few feet away Spike was chained down. Beside him, Drusilla. She smiled and moved forward.

'Time for revenge. Time for justice.' "Time to die bitch"
 
Spike roared into a bloodred sky.

The girl smiled at him, hefting the scythe in one hand. Her stance became cocky, a wicked half-grin curling her mouth.

"Time to die, bitch."

Spike jolted out of unconsciousness.

"Bloody HELL!" He roared at Faith. "It's about sodding time you idiot White Hats came to save my arse." He looked around a bit, a hard feat considering his head still felt like a pincushion and every other nerve in his body felt like fire. He grunted once and let his head fall back against the wall. He eyed Faith. "Get me the sodding hell out of here NOW, thank you ever so much!" His voice sounded like gravel, grating through clenched teeth.
 
Drusilla jumped from suprise as she saw the brunette slayer jump in front of her Spike.

Faith: No, no, no. You will not ruin it! I won't let you ruin it.

Drusilla ran from Faith when she spotted the scythe because she knew that at slayer with the scythe meant bad news in a fight. She looked around for some type of weapon so that she could defend herself if needed. "How could he lead her hear, I told him to be careful and he disobeyed me. Stupid minions!" She began to run out into the hallway and turned into another room that was lit entirely by candle light and on the the floor there were colorful pillows gathered all around. She yelled for some backup and in stormed 5 demons similar in build to the one that knocked out Spike and Xander. She told them about the situation and then escaped through a trap door in the floor underneath a large pillow. She traveled below ground and stopped as she reached a ladder. Luckily for her it was still dark outside so she climbed up the ladder and ran down the street turned down an alley way and went into the first door on the right. She went up a flight of stair into a room where Indra laid tossing and turning. Drusilla bent down and began to shake Indra.

Indra: Get up, get up, I have something urgent to tell you....
 
Indra sat up.

Am I dreaming? she wondered. She did not remember falling back to sleep, and yet here the devi stood. Drusilla was in her bedroom. There was no mistake. Drusilla's milky white skin shone through the darkness, awakening her preternatural senses to a divine presence. Rajnath, troubled as he was by the petty concerns of kings and mortal men, was unaware. He continued to snore softly beside her.

Indra's gut lurched. The devi spoke urgently. She also clearly and coherently. Something was wrong.

Without a word, Indra nodded and rose. Quietly, she slid into a comfortable salwar kameez and exited the room. She led the devi to Rajnath's room, a room in which she knew they would neither be disturbed nor overheard, and closed the door behind them. She did not turn on the light. No need to alert the servants. Besides, Indra had always had excellent night vision.

"Yes, my devi?" she asked, her voice also laced with urgency.

She supposed she should have been concerned for the welfare of her son and her husband or, at least, some of the servants. After all, had she not observed the devi's blood lust with her own eyes? That Drusilla had found Indra at home without disturbing any of the palace's occupants did not surprise Indra, but it did concern her. She had not thought this place or its people of interest to the devi. At the moment, however, all such concerns seemed secondary to those of Drusilla herself, who was clearly quite affected by some terrible news or event. Something was troubling the devi. Something was wrong. It was Indra's sacred duty, her dharma, to resolve the situation to Drusilla's benefit. It was her purpose in life. It was the reason for her existence. It was why she had so many extraordinary skills. It was why Drusilla had sought her out. She imagined that Raja, Rajnath, and the servants were of little consequence to one of Drusilla's kind, and so she resolved to put them out of her mind. Her attention was needed elsewhere.

I shall not fail, Indra thought as she anxiously awaited Drusilla's explanation.

Indra never failed.

But then again, she had never doubted before, either.
 
Drusilla bent over Indra as if to tell a little child a bedtime story, she began to stroke her long black hair and then she began to speak.

Indra: There have been terrible things happening while you have slept, the slayer the one carrying the scythe broke into my lair. She got my precious William and they are now fighting some of my followers. You must go there as quickly as possible and try to stop them. We need the scythe or all is ruined. It can't be ruined not again, I will not allow it. Go now Indra go as quickly as you can and stop them.

She stood up allowing Indra space to leave.

Indra: I will stay here for it is safe with your family here, I do not want to be in the middle of a battle for it might risk the plan. Go now.
 
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