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Willow: The Onslaught of Asylum (Post-season 7; contains spoilers)
- Thread starter No I am Doyle
- Start date
Magui
Scooby
I love it!!,when are you gonna post more?😀...Rene keeps sounding like Tara lol😛
MentPatient is gonna get mad😛😀
MentPatient is gonna get mad😛😀
MentPatient
White Hat
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2004
- Messages
- 956
NOOOO aww no more........ ::bsad:: ::crying:: ::crying2:Magui said:I love it!!,when are you gonna post more?😀...Rene keeps sounding like Tara lol😛
MentPatient is gonna get mad😛😀
hehe she does sound a little like tara
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
Part 20 - The Ruins
Asylum became aware once more. It had stopped in the middle of the demon city, as the hordes had continued to try to stave of its assault, and fell into a coma-like slumber. Those few demons who had survived quickly realized that it could not harmed, even when unconscious. It was aware that it was exhausted, not in body, but in its very being. It was almost as though its soul was being consumed as fuel. It caused the titan great pain, such that would not go away. Some nagging sensation, the desire told it that the pain would cease if only it made it to its destination.
It lay in pitch darkness, terrified and in pain. It tried to call out for someone to come and comfort it, but it had no voice. It tried to be brave, to make Lofthre proud. It just couldn't. The titan curled up on the ground like the scared child it truly was and cried. Long moments later, it realized that Lofthre would love it once it proved it was worthy of his love. That thought brought it courage. It would find whatever it was sent down here to find, and then it would go home. No more dark tunnels, no more monsters; just love. It would feel again; the rain, the tears, and the warmth. It touched the runes on its brow and all was bathed in light.
Asylum rose to its feet slowly, and shook its massive silver head. The "sleep" had brought it no relief; it only allowed the golem to cool down. It took uneasy steps in the direction the desire compelled it to travel in. It was scared; so scared. It wanted the safe embrace of its parent; Asylum knew that he would be nearby, watching. It would be brave for him. The only promise of comfort came from the thought of completing its journey. Something told it that it was so close, and that it must get there soon. If not, it would never again be the child it once was.
It looked around the ruins of the city. None of the monsters remained, only hundreds of their corpses. It kept walking through the wreckage, remembering how it had played. The buildings had crumbled like sand between its fingers; the monsters fell like dolls. The power was intoxicating. Asylum hated that. It didn't want to destroy, but once it started it couldn't stop. The desire drove it then. The desire was a wicked sensation, one that tore at it, but it would be gone soon. Asylum was sure of that.
It stopped in front of an underground lake. It saw its reflection for the first time in the still water. Asylum knelt down for a closer inspection. Foreign writing covered every inch of its domed head, down its neck and shoulders; continuing down to the tips of its feet. It had a thick brow, and lacked a nose and mouth. It s neck and shoulders were shielded with massive, silver, plates. Asylums arms were like columns of pure destructive strength. I touched its face. It couldn't feel its fingers, but it sensed them. This won't due, it thought to itself. Its engine fired and it punched the water, large torrents of water splashing over two hundred feet in the air. I stood back up. Time to go it thought.
-
Asylum felt that it was closer than ever to its prize, but now a wall blocked its way. Asylum hauled back to break its way past, when it heard sounds entering the city. Staying its hand, it touched its temple and listened.
"Well"¦ looks like we found the trail," said a feminine voice, whispering.
"Um, guys, what, uh, happened here?" asked one male voice, a bit louder.
"Like hell broke loose," said another male voice, also whispering.
"Do, uh"¦. Don't you think we should go back and get some help? This might be a bit too much for us to handle on our own."
"I think Andrew might be right Faith. This may be a bit too much for us to take on with just the three of us."
"I just want to take a peek, maybe say hello," said the female, the one who must be called Faith.
"Oh, uh, Ok. Then you go on in and let it rip your arms and legs off, uh and, then we will come back with some more slayers to get the pieces. Uh, Faith, this is looking like a no win situation, like on Wrath of Kahn. You know, they had no other alternative than for Spock to go into the chamber with the radiation, because he was the only one that could. But you don't have to go in. Lets just get help, we will get the other slayers and come down and kill this tin can." Rage, uncontrollable anger overtook the living machine, the spells that governed its eternal engine also forced it to abide by its rage and urges for destruction. No, it thought to itself. Asylum tried to stave off the sinister urges, to keep going forward to its prize; but now it felt that it was time to play.
-
Andrew and Wood had finally convinced Faith that the best course of action would be to return to the council, when they heard what they thought was an earthshaking, demonic roar from the other side of the city.
"OK guys, you are right, let's get help," Faith said, now a little afraid, that thing sounds huge"¦ and pissed off."
"Yah, we don't need it coming after us just yet," agreed Wood. Then they heard the rumbling and crashing of countless tons of rock, coming swiftly their way. They began to run back into the tunnel they had entered through. The crashing sounds seemed to overtake them from the right and then pass by them. The three stopped and stood quietly. The crumbling came to a slow halt, in moments only the sounds of falling soil and rock trickled to the cave floor. Then all was silent. None of the three dared to speak or move for fear that it may hear. Andrew's heart pounded in his chest.
An explosion of rock and dirt destroyed their escape tunnel, as eight tons of silver and runes flew effortlessly from the cave wall right in front of them. Asylum towered over them, standing perfectly still. It looked back and forth at the three smaller creatures; its presence was more menacing than anything they had ever seen. Andrew could only utter a prolonged "uh".
"So," Wood said tempering his courage, "use its size against it"¦ right?"
"Works in theory," Faith said, as the titan's engine fired fully to life with deafening crescendo.
Asylum became aware once more. It had stopped in the middle of the demon city, as the hordes had continued to try to stave of its assault, and fell into a coma-like slumber. Those few demons who had survived quickly realized that it could not harmed, even when unconscious. It was aware that it was exhausted, not in body, but in its very being. It was almost as though its soul was being consumed as fuel. It caused the titan great pain, such that would not go away. Some nagging sensation, the desire told it that the pain would cease if only it made it to its destination.
It lay in pitch darkness, terrified and in pain. It tried to call out for someone to come and comfort it, but it had no voice. It tried to be brave, to make Lofthre proud. It just couldn't. The titan curled up on the ground like the scared child it truly was and cried. Long moments later, it realized that Lofthre would love it once it proved it was worthy of his love. That thought brought it courage. It would find whatever it was sent down here to find, and then it would go home. No more dark tunnels, no more monsters; just love. It would feel again; the rain, the tears, and the warmth. It touched the runes on its brow and all was bathed in light.
Asylum rose to its feet slowly, and shook its massive silver head. The "sleep" had brought it no relief; it only allowed the golem to cool down. It took uneasy steps in the direction the desire compelled it to travel in. It was scared; so scared. It wanted the safe embrace of its parent; Asylum knew that he would be nearby, watching. It would be brave for him. The only promise of comfort came from the thought of completing its journey. Something told it that it was so close, and that it must get there soon. If not, it would never again be the child it once was.
It looked around the ruins of the city. None of the monsters remained, only hundreds of their corpses. It kept walking through the wreckage, remembering how it had played. The buildings had crumbled like sand between its fingers; the monsters fell like dolls. The power was intoxicating. Asylum hated that. It didn't want to destroy, but once it started it couldn't stop. The desire drove it then. The desire was a wicked sensation, one that tore at it, but it would be gone soon. Asylum was sure of that.
It stopped in front of an underground lake. It saw its reflection for the first time in the still water. Asylum knelt down for a closer inspection. Foreign writing covered every inch of its domed head, down its neck and shoulders; continuing down to the tips of its feet. It had a thick brow, and lacked a nose and mouth. It s neck and shoulders were shielded with massive, silver, plates. Asylums arms were like columns of pure destructive strength. I touched its face. It couldn't feel its fingers, but it sensed them. This won't due, it thought to itself. Its engine fired and it punched the water, large torrents of water splashing over two hundred feet in the air. I stood back up. Time to go it thought.
-
Asylum felt that it was closer than ever to its prize, but now a wall blocked its way. Asylum hauled back to break its way past, when it heard sounds entering the city. Staying its hand, it touched its temple and listened.
"Well"¦ looks like we found the trail," said a feminine voice, whispering.
"Um, guys, what, uh, happened here?" asked one male voice, a bit louder.
"Like hell broke loose," said another male voice, also whispering.
"Do, uh"¦. Don't you think we should go back and get some help? This might be a bit too much for us to handle on our own."
"I think Andrew might be right Faith. This may be a bit too much for us to take on with just the three of us."
"I just want to take a peek, maybe say hello," said the female, the one who must be called Faith.
"Oh, uh, Ok. Then you go on in and let it rip your arms and legs off, uh and, then we will come back with some more slayers to get the pieces. Uh, Faith, this is looking like a no win situation, like on Wrath of Kahn. You know, they had no other alternative than for Spock to go into the chamber with the radiation, because he was the only one that could. But you don't have to go in. Lets just get help, we will get the other slayers and come down and kill this tin can." Rage, uncontrollable anger overtook the living machine, the spells that governed its eternal engine also forced it to abide by its rage and urges for destruction. No, it thought to itself. Asylum tried to stave off the sinister urges, to keep going forward to its prize; but now it felt that it was time to play.
-
Andrew and Wood had finally convinced Faith that the best course of action would be to return to the council, when they heard what they thought was an earthshaking, demonic roar from the other side of the city.
"OK guys, you are right, let's get help," Faith said, now a little afraid, that thing sounds huge"¦ and pissed off."
"Yah, we don't need it coming after us just yet," agreed Wood. Then they heard the rumbling and crashing of countless tons of rock, coming swiftly their way. They began to run back into the tunnel they had entered through. The crashing sounds seemed to overtake them from the right and then pass by them. The three stopped and stood quietly. The crumbling came to a slow halt, in moments only the sounds of falling soil and rock trickled to the cave floor. Then all was silent. None of the three dared to speak or move for fear that it may hear. Andrew's heart pounded in his chest.
An explosion of rock and dirt destroyed their escape tunnel, as eight tons of silver and runes flew effortlessly from the cave wall right in front of them. Asylum towered over them, standing perfectly still. It looked back and forth at the three smaller creatures; its presence was more menacing than anything they had ever seen. Andrew could only utter a prolonged "uh".
"So," Wood said tempering his courage, "use its size against it"¦ right?"
"Works in theory," Faith said, as the titan's engine fired fully to life with deafening crescendo.
ana8
Missing you....
MentPatient
White Hat
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2004
- Messages
- 956
YES MORE!!!!! ..... awwww gonna go camp.... cant read the story for 3 days..... GAH MONKEY DOODOO!..... hopefully there will be more when i get back...ana8 said:Nice...Post more soon🙂
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
Part 21 - Feathers
The ground trembled as the Heavens opened up over the abandoned farmhouse, shaking dirt and age off the top of it ramshackle wooden roof. Forty miles outside of Berdyans'k, this nearly unprecedented phenomenon was occurring. From the rift, blindingly brilliant light poured out, like a sack of grain, slashed open. The low rumble shook dirt and age off the top of it ramshackle wooden roof. Flecks of self-created illumination fell like snowflakes from the portal of light, coating the rotting wood in energy. The decay seemed to reverse in mere seconds; moments later, the building looked as though it were freshly built. A form descended from the skies, drifting like the light towards the earth below. Large wings, like those of an owl, protruded from its back. They stretched out like a morning yawn.
The angelic being touched down lightly. Its body was covered in soft, down-like feathers; ivory feathers, looking as though they were painted at the ends in black, and tipped with deep blue, ash, and gold. The being's head was adorned with a reaching crown of plumage. It had the head and feet of an owl; yet had a humanoid form, with human looking arms and hands. A halo of shimmering light rested six inches above its head, suspended by character alone. It had a supremely muscular build, and a benevolent and contrastingly ferocious aura. It wore a loincloth of pure gold and gauntlets of the same. Strapped to its back was a quarterstaff that looked as though it was pluck fresh from the tree; lush, green, leaves still attached here and there. At its side, a golden long sword rested in a simple leather sheath. Above it, the rift sealed shut.
The higher being stretched its now physical body for the first time, sharp talons glided out, like a cat's, from slits in its gauntlets, quickly drawing back into place. Muscles tensed, as it cracked its neck, back and fingers. The being looked around at the surroundings. It felt the pain of starvation and murder, hatred, and deceit; the negative energies that took centuries to dissipate. They all left bitter tastes in its mouth. The most desperate of times were coming, and it had little time to prepare the world for them. A young werewolf needed to be made ready for his role as a champion of the Powers.
The Powers made it a policy to not interfere directly in the affairs of earth. Available champions, however, were in short supply. Most had their own matters to deal with. The one who would have been called to serve this post had been severed from his contact with the Powers. An ancient power, which longed to return to the Earth Realm for its own brand of peace on Earth, had possessed and killed his guide. Unfortunately, he now fought a necessary war of beaurocracy in Los Angles. A feminine form appeared behind the divine being.
"You don't actually believe that you are going to stop what is coming do you, Thaddeus?" said the First, wearing the face of the young woman who had recently lay waste to its plans for life.
"Why would you care? You have no stake in this," the archangel replied dismissively, not needing to look back.
"No. No, I don't," said the intangible evil, " I merely wonder what the Powers would find so dire that they would send their right arm and "flaming sword". Shouldn't you be flying around your heavens like the little bird that you are?"
"Shouldn't you be watching mankind, wishing you were as effectual as such "lesser" creatures?" Watching them commit the acts you shall never be able to do yourself. That is you torment, your only vulnerable sin. Envy. Your own little private hell, hope it is treating you well," said Thaddeus, turning around with a righteous, verbal smirk. The First, in the guise of Buffy, bore its teeth in anger, wishing only to strike out at the annoying angel. It did want nothing more than to rip and tear its way through the innocent of the world, to purge itself of the need to lash out. At the moment, it would settle for tearing the wings from this insolent little being.
"Hey, their message, not mine," the angel said
"Thaddeus?" it asked sweetly. Thaddeus was barely listening. He hadn't the time nor the desire to trade verbal swordplay. Instead he began to converse with an unseen council of entities. The First knew this, but lingered for the sole sake of being a nuisance to an ancient enemy. Satisfied with the course of action set before him, Thaddeus set out.
Thaddeus took his first ten steps toward the city, but stopped abruptly. Across the ocean, it could sense that pivotal warriors necessary to the good fight ahead, would face their untimely deaths very soon.
"This is not good, this is not how it is suppose to go," It spoke out loud, yet not to itself. Taking wing, Thaddeus flew very swiftly to their aid, hoping that it would be in time.
"Good luck!" the First called after with mocking support.
"Well," Thaddeus spoke, " rarely have I seen a prophecy come into fruition in such a messy fashion. Too many new players in the field"¦ Well"¦ far more than were written about. I fear the Geshthule may be closer at hand than we thought. " Thaddeus flew across the Atlantic ocean at near imperceptible speeds. He could not teleport; he could only do that for only a little over five miles. Not that travel by flight was a lengthy prospect.
-
"So, I understand that project "Olympus" went well?" said Victor Gordon, President of Wolfram & Hart, London division, to Ethan Rayne on the speakerphone. Around him, at a small conference table, sat several VP's. All were engrossed in conversation.
"Yes, yes it does seem to be a smashing success," replied the warlock, "Rupert will be far too busy trying to protect Ms. Calendar to perform his duties with any efficiency."
"Hopefully this will be just the thing to divert his attentions," said Mr. Gordon, "Your fee will be brought to you in short time, Mr. Rayne. Thank you again for your services."
"Any time Victor," Ethan said as he hung up. With luck, thought Mr. Gordon, they should be able to procure the services of several more slayers.
The delegation sat at a small conference table, various files were scattered about. Today was a day that held many surprises. Information poured in on two occurrences of paranormal and business related activities. They had just finished discussing the appearance of golem. Reports came in almost immediately after it emerged. Something with that much mystical power does not go undetected for long. They had reached the decision to sent crews out to ascertain the level of threat posed by this titan.
The other, newer, problem was the recovery of the slayer Rene by the Witch, Ms. Rosenburg. The lawfirm had gathered this info from taps they had placed on the phones of the new Watcher's Council.
"An old deal seems to be biting us on our Asses, gentlemen," he said with extreme displeasure.
One of the VP's spoke up, "Do we intend on retrieving her for the client?"
"No, we only brokered the initial transaction," said Mr. Gordon, "it was his duty to keep it secure. If he wants us to get her back, on his behalf, well"¦ of course, he'll have to procure our services once again." He sat back in his leather chair, pondering the meaning of things.
A file was tossed down in front of him. Looking to his side, Mr. Gordon saw Mr. Kendall, his liaison to the Senior Partners.
"We may have a bit of a problem, sir."
"What's that, Mr. Kendall?"
Kendall rubbed his balding head; "The Department of Mystic Detection has felt a tear in Earth from the Higher Planes. Something came through. Something with the most direct link to the Powers that I have ever seen."
"So, after all this time, they are interfering once more," said Mr. Gordon, "They must be deeply troubled with the events going on."
"I've had Prophesies and Records on the hunt for the last fifteen minutes looking for anything that would indicate a mystical convergence," said Mr. Kendall.
"And?"
Kendall continued, "And"¦ there seems to be something on the rise called the Geshthule; a series of prophesies believed to be the second of twin apocalypses, one occurring on one side of the world, and one on the other. Our L.A. branch seems to be dealing with, or rather not dealing with, what is happening around them"¦ but I fear we may have a second one coming up at the same time. Sort of a, if one doesn't get you the other one will, sort of thing." Lately however, apocalypses seemed to be a yearly thing.
"And I take it that the Senior Partners would rather not see this happen." insinuated the chairman.
"Well, it seems that players not previously on the roster have shown up for the big game."
"Yes, I am aware. Whatever this machine is, it is a problem. This could really mess up our timetable. Oh well, as long as that heel, Rupert Giles, stays out of the way of some new acquisitions, we should be fine." said Mr. Gordon.
"Sir, with all due respect," Kendall finished, "everything seems to mess up our time tables anymore."
-
Thaddeus landed at the crater outside Cleveland around the same time that he felt the events he foresaw began to unfold. His wings curled around his body as he leapt through the large opening. Withoutslowing, he landed on the cave floor a thousand feet below. He began to follow the rage that fouled up the air. He trotted swiftly through the tunnels. Thaddeus knew that if he spared a moment, it might be one moment too late.
"I'm hurrying!" he said aloud.
The ground trembled as the Heavens opened up over the abandoned farmhouse, shaking dirt and age off the top of it ramshackle wooden roof. Forty miles outside of Berdyans'k, this nearly unprecedented phenomenon was occurring. From the rift, blindingly brilliant light poured out, like a sack of grain, slashed open. The low rumble shook dirt and age off the top of it ramshackle wooden roof. Flecks of self-created illumination fell like snowflakes from the portal of light, coating the rotting wood in energy. The decay seemed to reverse in mere seconds; moments later, the building looked as though it were freshly built. A form descended from the skies, drifting like the light towards the earth below. Large wings, like those of an owl, protruded from its back. They stretched out like a morning yawn.
The angelic being touched down lightly. Its body was covered in soft, down-like feathers; ivory feathers, looking as though they were painted at the ends in black, and tipped with deep blue, ash, and gold. The being's head was adorned with a reaching crown of plumage. It had the head and feet of an owl; yet had a humanoid form, with human looking arms and hands. A halo of shimmering light rested six inches above its head, suspended by character alone. It had a supremely muscular build, and a benevolent and contrastingly ferocious aura. It wore a loincloth of pure gold and gauntlets of the same. Strapped to its back was a quarterstaff that looked as though it was pluck fresh from the tree; lush, green, leaves still attached here and there. At its side, a golden long sword rested in a simple leather sheath. Above it, the rift sealed shut.
The higher being stretched its now physical body for the first time, sharp talons glided out, like a cat's, from slits in its gauntlets, quickly drawing back into place. Muscles tensed, as it cracked its neck, back and fingers. The being looked around at the surroundings. It felt the pain of starvation and murder, hatred, and deceit; the negative energies that took centuries to dissipate. They all left bitter tastes in its mouth. The most desperate of times were coming, and it had little time to prepare the world for them. A young werewolf needed to be made ready for his role as a champion of the Powers.
The Powers made it a policy to not interfere directly in the affairs of earth. Available champions, however, were in short supply. Most had their own matters to deal with. The one who would have been called to serve this post had been severed from his contact with the Powers. An ancient power, which longed to return to the Earth Realm for its own brand of peace on Earth, had possessed and killed his guide. Unfortunately, he now fought a necessary war of beaurocracy in Los Angles. A feminine form appeared behind the divine being.
"You don't actually believe that you are going to stop what is coming do you, Thaddeus?" said the First, wearing the face of the young woman who had recently lay waste to its plans for life.
"Why would you care? You have no stake in this," the archangel replied dismissively, not needing to look back.
"No. No, I don't," said the intangible evil, " I merely wonder what the Powers would find so dire that they would send their right arm and "flaming sword". Shouldn't you be flying around your heavens like the little bird that you are?"
"Shouldn't you be watching mankind, wishing you were as effectual as such "lesser" creatures?" Watching them commit the acts you shall never be able to do yourself. That is you torment, your only vulnerable sin. Envy. Your own little private hell, hope it is treating you well," said Thaddeus, turning around with a righteous, verbal smirk. The First, in the guise of Buffy, bore its teeth in anger, wishing only to strike out at the annoying angel. It did want nothing more than to rip and tear its way through the innocent of the world, to purge itself of the need to lash out. At the moment, it would settle for tearing the wings from this insolent little being.
"Hey, their message, not mine," the angel said
"Thaddeus?" it asked sweetly. Thaddeus was barely listening. He hadn't the time nor the desire to trade verbal swordplay. Instead he began to converse with an unseen council of entities. The First knew this, but lingered for the sole sake of being a nuisance to an ancient enemy. Satisfied with the course of action set before him, Thaddeus set out.
Thaddeus took his first ten steps toward the city, but stopped abruptly. Across the ocean, it could sense that pivotal warriors necessary to the good fight ahead, would face their untimely deaths very soon.
"This is not good, this is not how it is suppose to go," It spoke out loud, yet not to itself. Taking wing, Thaddeus flew very swiftly to their aid, hoping that it would be in time.
"Good luck!" the First called after with mocking support.
"Well," Thaddeus spoke, " rarely have I seen a prophecy come into fruition in such a messy fashion. Too many new players in the field"¦ Well"¦ far more than were written about. I fear the Geshthule may be closer at hand than we thought. " Thaddeus flew across the Atlantic ocean at near imperceptible speeds. He could not teleport; he could only do that for only a little over five miles. Not that travel by flight was a lengthy prospect.
-
"So, I understand that project "Olympus" went well?" said Victor Gordon, President of Wolfram & Hart, London division, to Ethan Rayne on the speakerphone. Around him, at a small conference table, sat several VP's. All were engrossed in conversation.
"Yes, yes it does seem to be a smashing success," replied the warlock, "Rupert will be far too busy trying to protect Ms. Calendar to perform his duties with any efficiency."
"Hopefully this will be just the thing to divert his attentions," said Mr. Gordon, "Your fee will be brought to you in short time, Mr. Rayne. Thank you again for your services."
"Any time Victor," Ethan said as he hung up. With luck, thought Mr. Gordon, they should be able to procure the services of several more slayers.
The delegation sat at a small conference table, various files were scattered about. Today was a day that held many surprises. Information poured in on two occurrences of paranormal and business related activities. They had just finished discussing the appearance of golem. Reports came in almost immediately after it emerged. Something with that much mystical power does not go undetected for long. They had reached the decision to sent crews out to ascertain the level of threat posed by this titan.
The other, newer, problem was the recovery of the slayer Rene by the Witch, Ms. Rosenburg. The lawfirm had gathered this info from taps they had placed on the phones of the new Watcher's Council.
"An old deal seems to be biting us on our Asses, gentlemen," he said with extreme displeasure.
One of the VP's spoke up, "Do we intend on retrieving her for the client?"
"No, we only brokered the initial transaction," said Mr. Gordon, "it was his duty to keep it secure. If he wants us to get her back, on his behalf, well"¦ of course, he'll have to procure our services once again." He sat back in his leather chair, pondering the meaning of things.
A file was tossed down in front of him. Looking to his side, Mr. Gordon saw Mr. Kendall, his liaison to the Senior Partners.
"We may have a bit of a problem, sir."
"What's that, Mr. Kendall?"
Kendall rubbed his balding head; "The Department of Mystic Detection has felt a tear in Earth from the Higher Planes. Something came through. Something with the most direct link to the Powers that I have ever seen."
"So, after all this time, they are interfering once more," said Mr. Gordon, "They must be deeply troubled with the events going on."
"I've had Prophesies and Records on the hunt for the last fifteen minutes looking for anything that would indicate a mystical convergence," said Mr. Kendall.
"And?"
Kendall continued, "And"¦ there seems to be something on the rise called the Geshthule; a series of prophesies believed to be the second of twin apocalypses, one occurring on one side of the world, and one on the other. Our L.A. branch seems to be dealing with, or rather not dealing with, what is happening around them"¦ but I fear we may have a second one coming up at the same time. Sort of a, if one doesn't get you the other one will, sort of thing." Lately however, apocalypses seemed to be a yearly thing.
"And I take it that the Senior Partners would rather not see this happen." insinuated the chairman.
"Well, it seems that players not previously on the roster have shown up for the big game."
"Yes, I am aware. Whatever this machine is, it is a problem. This could really mess up our timetable. Oh well, as long as that heel, Rupert Giles, stays out of the way of some new acquisitions, we should be fine." said Mr. Gordon.
"Sir, with all due respect," Kendall finished, "everything seems to mess up our time tables anymore."
-
Thaddeus landed at the crater outside Cleveland around the same time that he felt the events he foresaw began to unfold. His wings curled around his body as he leapt through the large opening. Withoutslowing, he landed on the cave floor a thousand feet below. He began to follow the rage that fouled up the air. He trotted swiftly through the tunnels. Thaddeus knew that if he spared a moment, it might be one moment too late.
"I'm hurrying!" he said aloud.
ana8
Missing you....
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
Part 22 - In The Moment
How? What"¦ how?" was all Xander could say. Jenny stood there as though she had never died. Willow quickly read her aura. She was Jenny, telltale signs of death spayed across her otherwise human presence. Her face softened from the grim to a welcoming and joyous smile. She rushed forward, past Xander, to take Jenny in a firm embrace. Giles could only smile. Xander, seeing Willow's reaction, also joined in on the hug. Jenny could only laugh at the welcome.
"All right." Jenny said, patting them on the backs. She was a little overcome by the moment. "All right, you two. Can't breathe." They pulled away from her, both apologizing for their vigor. Giles and Jenny stepped into the apartment.
"I'm sure that you have many questions. Almost as many as I do. But, for now, is Buffy around?" Giles asked.
"No, " said Xander, "she won't be around for a month. She is taking a little retreat at some cabin, training Dawn to defend herself over the summer."
"What?!" Giles, Willow, and Kennedy asked in unison.
"Well, she called when you guys were in your mind meld; you know, while the room went all Exorcist Light. I just forgot to tell you guys in all the commotion."
"This hardly seems like the time"¦" Giles started.
"Actually, from what you've told me Rupert," Jenny interrupted, "she seems to deserve this break."
"True, true," Giles conceded. He didn't want to be too hard on her. She has staved off so many close calls to the world's safety.
"So, what happened to your head?" asked Xander, looking at the gash in Jenny's forehead.
"Oh, we had a run-in with someone in a black van," said Jenny.
"I believe that Wolfram & Hart is trying to retrieve her," interjected Giles.
"Wolfram & Hart?!" said Xander, "But, but why? And what do they gain from something like this? I mean"¦ not that it isn't good to have you back, but there must be something really bad planned."
"That is exactly what we are trying to figure out," said Giles. Willow looked at Jenny to see her reaction to this. She looked as though she really didn't care to continue this conversation.
"Rene is in the room," Willow quickly threw in. Everybody turned to look at her.
"Of course, the slayer" said Giles, "How is she. What happened exactly?" Willow spent the next hour recanting the events that had begun to unfold this morning. Giles asked many questions. Xander threw in the occasional comment to help lighten the rather dim mood of the topic. Jenny simply listened intently, offering little. Kennedy made a crude attempt at dinner, a small scowl on her face. She had planned on things being normal for one evening, and besides, she really wanted to go to the new club.
"I just can't figure out how Willow managed to "Freddy Krueger" Rene out of her dream," Xander said as they finished up. Everyone looked at him, equally curious how the witch had accomplished that one.
Giles said, "Maybe the locator spell linked the two of you together. Instead of dreaming when you fell asleep, you were pulled to the Astral Realm. Or, perhaps, there was outside intervention? We can't be sure. I think that the important thing is that now that she is here, and safe. I think we should make every effort to make things as normal and unobtrusive as possible." At that, Kennedy came out of the kitchen. "Good," she said, "then we can go to the opening of Centuries Old tonight."
"Kennedy!" said Willow. "I don't think that we should leave Rene here by herself."
"Xander said that he wasn't going," Kennedy responded, " so, can't he stay and watch her?" Xander sat up at the mention of his name.
"Well, I guess I don't mind," said Xander. Willow shook her head vehemently, protests bubbling at the mouth.
"I think we should stay and make sure that she is OK. I mean what if she needs us, or, or if she is scared"¦ oh, goddess, what if there's a fire?" Willow started to ramble, eliciting a laugh from Jenny. Willow looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"I'm sorry, it's, well it's just that in some ways nothing's really changed," Jenny defended. Giles visage softened a bit as well.
"Worrying isn't going to help her any. She's safe, she's sound. We can't do anything else till she's ready, so why not go out for the first time since a week after we saved the world," Kennedy shot back at Willow. Giles stepped between them, a calm look on his face.
"Willow, I believe that Kennedy is actually right," said Giles, "At this point, everyone staying around fretting over her will only undermine he sense of normalcy. I mean, after all that you described, I find it hard to believe that she will ever be able to adjust to the world again. I do feel that if we play things as though nothing's different for us, she stands the best chance of being drawn out and coping. But"¦" He didn't finish his thought.
"You know what Will, I have things covered here. I've got Giles and the lovely Ms. C," Xander assured her. "I'll just settle down to a nice movie. Nothing 3-D, but I think I'll manage. Every now and again I'll check on the little lady and see that she's OK."
"Are you sure, Xand? She's not a "little lady". I mean, she is really strong, and"¦ oh, what if she has a freak-out or something?" Willow was simply concerned for the young woman. She had witnessed some of the tortures she had gone through. She was afraid that Giles' theory that she may never recover was true. After all, how do you recover from hell?
"Well, she has to be tired. She will probably sleep through the night. I probably need a little outdoorsy action before this." She thought about what she just said. "Oh"¦ not the risqué kind of outdoors, the clean kind of outdoors.
"You two go out. Have a couples night," Xander said laughing.
-
In the bedroom, Rene had been crying herself to sleep. Tears streamed endlessly, even in her sleep. She slept no more than five to ten minutes at a time. She woke up to the sounds of voices rising in the other room. Terrified, Rene jumped back towards the wall, bumping it softly. She froze. He finds you when you make noise, she thought. She waited and waited for the dream to end and the nightmare to continue, as it always did. She looked at the bandages that covered much of her body, the strange clothes she had been dressed in. It was all so foreign to her. In some ways it truly felt to her like she had just woken up from a most horrific nightmare; however fear dug its way into her heart. Something wouldn't fully allow her to believe, it had been a very long time indeed since hope was known to her.
She smelled food, forcing her stomach lurched violently. Over the thousands of years she spent as a "bride" to Rishaka, she had forgotten the taste of food. She had forgotten the coolness of water on a parched throat. But now her body reminded her of those things. In this realm, she again needed to eat and drink. Here, you could die. At long last she thought.
"No, n, no I can't. th, this isn't h, here," she said out loud, "I, I'm not h, here!" Rene gritted her teeth at the thought of this new trick. Anger seeped through her terror like a broken brick in a rainstorm, flashes of atrocity flashed. They, however, were not her own. Images assailed her mind. Quick glimpses, to quick to understand, flashed before her eyes. She clasped her hands to her face; a slight muffled cry to stop came from her delicate looking mouth. The images stopped.
Something flashing caught her attention at the other end of the room. Stepping slowly and carefully off the bed, she took wobbly steps towards it. The flashing stopped as she reached it. Taking it in hand, she separated it in two parts. One part made noises; she held it up to her ear to listen.
""¦but she's not here right now. She won't be back for some time"¦" she heard, then pulled the object away from her ear. She inspected it. Noises continued from it. The image of the woman from her dream appeared in her head. She was the woman in the devise. Maybe she had seen her down in chamber a long time ago. How had she sinned so to receive this cruel of punishment, Rene mournfully thought. Putting it back up to her ear she heard ""¦don't have a forwarding number at the time"¦" Maybe when this charade had run its course she would see her too. Good, someone I know, Rene thought. Rene snapped the two parts shut. Someone must be trapped inside. Best not to interfere with the plans of Rishaka. She set the phone back down. Those who were sent to him were cruel and evil. They died after lives of unrepentant evil. All were in need of a great deal of punishment.
"Like me," she said with deep forlorn. Rene felt her stomach spasm again, painfully, but then, pain was something she had learned to temper herself against. Anymore, she only gave window dressing to such sensations. Standing at the dresser, she noticed the mirror. She looked at her reflection. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to look into a mirror, long enough she had forgotten her own face.
"There, there you are," she whispered to herself with solemn satisfaction. When she saw herself, she knew she still existed. At least she still had that much. Her hair and body had been thoroughly cleaned of the grime that she was accustomed to. Her dark brown mane lay matted and tangled. She touched the bandages that covered her arms and hand. She could feel the wrappings covering her fast healing wounds under the strange garment. Everything was soft and secure, warming, not cold like the caverns of lower Quartoth. Rene counted her fingers and toes, she counted her eyes, her ears, and she counted her teeth. She felt the cotton of the pajamas. She wobbled over and put her hands on the walls. They were so smooth, not jagged like the rocks and walls she was used to. She slid her fingers along the wall, feeling the gentle reality.
Rene paused to glide her fingers across the silk curtains for a few minutes. She looked over and saw a man-sized wooden box. It seemed elaborately designed. She knew that she remembered something about them, but it wouldn't budge from the tip of her tongue. She walked over to it with timid curiosity. She cautiously reached forward and touched it. The young woman who touched this was in love, she thought to herself. Several indistinct voices sounded in her head, as random thoughts came to her mind. They seemed borrowed to her. She shook her head, the orchestra of voices disappeared.
On the box, many objects lay scattered about in a now disheveled fashion. She picked up a music box. "This was given to her by her mother. One of two boxes"¦ the sister has the other one... the sister"¦" she said to no one at all. The words rolled free and loose from her tongue. It startled her a bit that she spoke so freely. She opened the box. A delicate tune played from it as a ballerina danced in the center to it. Rene was reminded of gingerbread. She hummed a tune different from the one in the box, and set the box in the crook of her arm. She stopped humming as she looked at the other items.
Next Rene picked up a brush. She placed it on top of the music box in her arm. Her attention was drawn to a small polished book with pictures and the language of the Brits on it. It said Ym on the cover. She also took a picture of five people, four women and one man. She recognized one of the women. She knew that great love and camaraderie flowed between these people. It was more comforting than anything she could ever remember. She sat on the cool hardwood floor. Rene dropped the objects out on the plush rug in front of her. She continued to hum, opened the music box and set the picture on her left leg. She opened the magazine to a random page, but barely even glanced at it. She began to slowly brush at the rough tangles in her hair.
Rene felt like she could remember events that happened here, but they were not her own. She was merely playing them out now. She didn't care. She felt comfort in her soul for the first time in"¦ forever, by her recollection. She kept brushing, humming all the while. Each tangle separated between the teeth of the brush.
Her heart finally felt suddenly lighten with a great release of fear. Comfort was not a thing of the Quartoth. All the other times she had been saved the comfort was like the security that comes from a bottle of liquor. False. Now, something was different, almost imperceptibly, but still quite different.
Rene's stomach quaked again. "Do you, do you want food?" she asked it feeling helpless. "I, I can't find you any. St, stop your grumbling." She quickly shot up grabbing at things as though she would get in trouble if caught. She knew that something was coming. She set them roughly back down on the box, and dashed to the side of the bed. Rene tried to blend in between the table and the bed. Her heart raced in terror.
The door to the room opened, the smell of food wafted in with. Something stood in the room for a moment, just out of her sight. Her stomach groaned deeply. She heard the clank of two objects and footsteps leading back to the door, followed by the door closing. She wasn't sure if it was a trick, but the lure smelled to good for her to care at this time. She leapt up from her place and ran to the large plate covered in varieties of food. A large glass of cold water sat next to it. Drops of water ran down its side. She drank deeply. It felt like life itself returned to her long dried throat. The food was a send from the gods. Rene devoured every last bite of food on the plate. Dear lord, she though, I could get used to this.
How? What"¦ how?" was all Xander could say. Jenny stood there as though she had never died. Willow quickly read her aura. She was Jenny, telltale signs of death spayed across her otherwise human presence. Her face softened from the grim to a welcoming and joyous smile. She rushed forward, past Xander, to take Jenny in a firm embrace. Giles could only smile. Xander, seeing Willow's reaction, also joined in on the hug. Jenny could only laugh at the welcome.
"All right." Jenny said, patting them on the backs. She was a little overcome by the moment. "All right, you two. Can't breathe." They pulled away from her, both apologizing for their vigor. Giles and Jenny stepped into the apartment.
"I'm sure that you have many questions. Almost as many as I do. But, for now, is Buffy around?" Giles asked.
"No, " said Xander, "she won't be around for a month. She is taking a little retreat at some cabin, training Dawn to defend herself over the summer."
"What?!" Giles, Willow, and Kennedy asked in unison.
"Well, she called when you guys were in your mind meld; you know, while the room went all Exorcist Light. I just forgot to tell you guys in all the commotion."
"This hardly seems like the time"¦" Giles started.
"Actually, from what you've told me Rupert," Jenny interrupted, "she seems to deserve this break."
"True, true," Giles conceded. He didn't want to be too hard on her. She has staved off so many close calls to the world's safety.
"So, what happened to your head?" asked Xander, looking at the gash in Jenny's forehead.
"Oh, we had a run-in with someone in a black van," said Jenny.
"I believe that Wolfram & Hart is trying to retrieve her," interjected Giles.
"Wolfram & Hart?!" said Xander, "But, but why? And what do they gain from something like this? I mean"¦ not that it isn't good to have you back, but there must be something really bad planned."
"That is exactly what we are trying to figure out," said Giles. Willow looked at Jenny to see her reaction to this. She looked as though she really didn't care to continue this conversation.
"Rene is in the room," Willow quickly threw in. Everybody turned to look at her.
"Of course, the slayer" said Giles, "How is she. What happened exactly?" Willow spent the next hour recanting the events that had begun to unfold this morning. Giles asked many questions. Xander threw in the occasional comment to help lighten the rather dim mood of the topic. Jenny simply listened intently, offering little. Kennedy made a crude attempt at dinner, a small scowl on her face. She had planned on things being normal for one evening, and besides, she really wanted to go to the new club.
"I just can't figure out how Willow managed to "Freddy Krueger" Rene out of her dream," Xander said as they finished up. Everyone looked at him, equally curious how the witch had accomplished that one.
Giles said, "Maybe the locator spell linked the two of you together. Instead of dreaming when you fell asleep, you were pulled to the Astral Realm. Or, perhaps, there was outside intervention? We can't be sure. I think that the important thing is that now that she is here, and safe. I think we should make every effort to make things as normal and unobtrusive as possible." At that, Kennedy came out of the kitchen. "Good," she said, "then we can go to the opening of Centuries Old tonight."
"Kennedy!" said Willow. "I don't think that we should leave Rene here by herself."
"Xander said that he wasn't going," Kennedy responded, " so, can't he stay and watch her?" Xander sat up at the mention of his name.
"Well, I guess I don't mind," said Xander. Willow shook her head vehemently, protests bubbling at the mouth.
"I think we should stay and make sure that she is OK. I mean what if she needs us, or, or if she is scared"¦ oh, goddess, what if there's a fire?" Willow started to ramble, eliciting a laugh from Jenny. Willow looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"I'm sorry, it's, well it's just that in some ways nothing's really changed," Jenny defended. Giles visage softened a bit as well.
"Worrying isn't going to help her any. She's safe, she's sound. We can't do anything else till she's ready, so why not go out for the first time since a week after we saved the world," Kennedy shot back at Willow. Giles stepped between them, a calm look on his face.
"Willow, I believe that Kennedy is actually right," said Giles, "At this point, everyone staying around fretting over her will only undermine he sense of normalcy. I mean, after all that you described, I find it hard to believe that she will ever be able to adjust to the world again. I do feel that if we play things as though nothing's different for us, she stands the best chance of being drawn out and coping. But"¦" He didn't finish his thought.
"You know what Will, I have things covered here. I've got Giles and the lovely Ms. C," Xander assured her. "I'll just settle down to a nice movie. Nothing 3-D, but I think I'll manage. Every now and again I'll check on the little lady and see that she's OK."
"Are you sure, Xand? She's not a "little lady". I mean, she is really strong, and"¦ oh, what if she has a freak-out or something?" Willow was simply concerned for the young woman. She had witnessed some of the tortures she had gone through. She was afraid that Giles' theory that she may never recover was true. After all, how do you recover from hell?
"Well, she has to be tired. She will probably sleep through the night. I probably need a little outdoorsy action before this." She thought about what she just said. "Oh"¦ not the risqué kind of outdoors, the clean kind of outdoors.
"You two go out. Have a couples night," Xander said laughing.
-
In the bedroom, Rene had been crying herself to sleep. Tears streamed endlessly, even in her sleep. She slept no more than five to ten minutes at a time. She woke up to the sounds of voices rising in the other room. Terrified, Rene jumped back towards the wall, bumping it softly. She froze. He finds you when you make noise, she thought. She waited and waited for the dream to end and the nightmare to continue, as it always did. She looked at the bandages that covered much of her body, the strange clothes she had been dressed in. It was all so foreign to her. In some ways it truly felt to her like she had just woken up from a most horrific nightmare; however fear dug its way into her heart. Something wouldn't fully allow her to believe, it had been a very long time indeed since hope was known to her.
She smelled food, forcing her stomach lurched violently. Over the thousands of years she spent as a "bride" to Rishaka, she had forgotten the taste of food. She had forgotten the coolness of water on a parched throat. But now her body reminded her of those things. In this realm, she again needed to eat and drink. Here, you could die. At long last she thought.
"No, n, no I can't. th, this isn't h, here," she said out loud, "I, I'm not h, here!" Rene gritted her teeth at the thought of this new trick. Anger seeped through her terror like a broken brick in a rainstorm, flashes of atrocity flashed. They, however, were not her own. Images assailed her mind. Quick glimpses, to quick to understand, flashed before her eyes. She clasped her hands to her face; a slight muffled cry to stop came from her delicate looking mouth. The images stopped.
Something flashing caught her attention at the other end of the room. Stepping slowly and carefully off the bed, she took wobbly steps towards it. The flashing stopped as she reached it. Taking it in hand, she separated it in two parts. One part made noises; she held it up to her ear to listen.
""¦but she's not here right now. She won't be back for some time"¦" she heard, then pulled the object away from her ear. She inspected it. Noises continued from it. The image of the woman from her dream appeared in her head. She was the woman in the devise. Maybe she had seen her down in chamber a long time ago. How had she sinned so to receive this cruel of punishment, Rene mournfully thought. Putting it back up to her ear she heard ""¦don't have a forwarding number at the time"¦" Maybe when this charade had run its course she would see her too. Good, someone I know, Rene thought. Rene snapped the two parts shut. Someone must be trapped inside. Best not to interfere with the plans of Rishaka. She set the phone back down. Those who were sent to him were cruel and evil. They died after lives of unrepentant evil. All were in need of a great deal of punishment.
"Like me," she said with deep forlorn. Rene felt her stomach spasm again, painfully, but then, pain was something she had learned to temper herself against. Anymore, she only gave window dressing to such sensations. Standing at the dresser, she noticed the mirror. She looked at her reflection. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to look into a mirror, long enough she had forgotten her own face.
"There, there you are," she whispered to herself with solemn satisfaction. When she saw herself, she knew she still existed. At least she still had that much. Her hair and body had been thoroughly cleaned of the grime that she was accustomed to. Her dark brown mane lay matted and tangled. She touched the bandages that covered her arms and hand. She could feel the wrappings covering her fast healing wounds under the strange garment. Everything was soft and secure, warming, not cold like the caverns of lower Quartoth. Rene counted her fingers and toes, she counted her eyes, her ears, and she counted her teeth. She felt the cotton of the pajamas. She wobbled over and put her hands on the walls. They were so smooth, not jagged like the rocks and walls she was used to. She slid her fingers along the wall, feeling the gentle reality.
Rene paused to glide her fingers across the silk curtains for a few minutes. She looked over and saw a man-sized wooden box. It seemed elaborately designed. She knew that she remembered something about them, but it wouldn't budge from the tip of her tongue. She walked over to it with timid curiosity. She cautiously reached forward and touched it. The young woman who touched this was in love, she thought to herself. Several indistinct voices sounded in her head, as random thoughts came to her mind. They seemed borrowed to her. She shook her head, the orchestra of voices disappeared.
On the box, many objects lay scattered about in a now disheveled fashion. She picked up a music box. "This was given to her by her mother. One of two boxes"¦ the sister has the other one... the sister"¦" she said to no one at all. The words rolled free and loose from her tongue. It startled her a bit that she spoke so freely. She opened the box. A delicate tune played from it as a ballerina danced in the center to it. Rene was reminded of gingerbread. She hummed a tune different from the one in the box, and set the box in the crook of her arm. She stopped humming as she looked at the other items.
Next Rene picked up a brush. She placed it on top of the music box in her arm. Her attention was drawn to a small polished book with pictures and the language of the Brits on it. It said Ym on the cover. She also took a picture of five people, four women and one man. She recognized one of the women. She knew that great love and camaraderie flowed between these people. It was more comforting than anything she could ever remember. She sat on the cool hardwood floor. Rene dropped the objects out on the plush rug in front of her. She continued to hum, opened the music box and set the picture on her left leg. She opened the magazine to a random page, but barely even glanced at it. She began to slowly brush at the rough tangles in her hair.
Rene felt like she could remember events that happened here, but they were not her own. She was merely playing them out now. She didn't care. She felt comfort in her soul for the first time in"¦ forever, by her recollection. She kept brushing, humming all the while. Each tangle separated between the teeth of the brush.
Her heart finally felt suddenly lighten with a great release of fear. Comfort was not a thing of the Quartoth. All the other times she had been saved the comfort was like the security that comes from a bottle of liquor. False. Now, something was different, almost imperceptibly, but still quite different.
Rene's stomach quaked again. "Do you, do you want food?" she asked it feeling helpless. "I, I can't find you any. St, stop your grumbling." She quickly shot up grabbing at things as though she would get in trouble if caught. She knew that something was coming. She set them roughly back down on the box, and dashed to the side of the bed. Rene tried to blend in between the table and the bed. Her heart raced in terror.
The door to the room opened, the smell of food wafted in with. Something stood in the room for a moment, just out of her sight. Her stomach groaned deeply. She heard the clank of two objects and footsteps leading back to the door, followed by the door closing. She wasn't sure if it was a trick, but the lure smelled to good for her to care at this time. She leapt up from her place and ran to the large plate covered in varieties of food. A large glass of cold water sat next to it. Drops of water ran down its side. She drank deeply. It felt like life itself returned to her long dried throat. The food was a send from the gods. Rene devoured every last bite of food on the plate. Dear lord, she though, I could get used to this.
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
ana8
Missing you....
MentPatient
White Hat
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2004
- Messages
- 956
SAME HERE! must read more.....ana8 said:Great part..Love to read more about Rene...Can't wait for more🙂
Magui
Scooby
The guys from Wolfram & Hart want to get her?,I don't think Angel would allow that...well,I love these parts,...and Ethan is so cool lol😛...Post more!!!:: tu ::
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
Part 23 - Closing In
The silver body of Asylum flew through the air at Faith, Wood, and Andrew. Faith practically had to pull Andrew, enfeebled with terror, from the golem's path. It had speed that something its size should not have. Asylum's arm shot out, striking the ground inches from Wood. The ground shook with tremor at the weight of its punch. It stopped as it past them, and steam shot from various joints as its upper body spun around to face them again. Armored plates shifted on the machine's shoulders as its arms repositioned to come straight down for churching blows.
Asylum came forward more slowly, fists crunching rock as it hit the dirt with every step. Earthen ceiling collapsed with each blow. Faith, Andrew, and Wood began to shout back and forth, yelling directions and plans as they moved. Each time the repositioned themselves to stay at a safe distance. Each knew that a single blow would make short work of them.
Asylum stopped his current charge. The armoring again altering itself to allow new kinds of movement, the upper body began to spin quickly, rotating on its hips.
"Move into the city!" yelled Faith to the others. They ran into the ruined demon city, looking for shelter. Somewhere had to be safe, at least safer than here. The titan's spinning arms devastated the walls as they ran behind them. More and more of the ceiling collapsed. Dust filled the air, as Andrew drew short of breath.
"I can't keep up"¦ you should go on without me," Andrew said. Asylum smashed into view, through another cave wall. "No," he yelled out, "don't leave me here! I don't want to die here!" Asylum came forward.
"No intention of leaving you, " Faith yelled, throwing Andrew to the ground, out of the way. She tried to dive on top of him. Asylum's hefty arm caught her hard in the shoulder. Pain sunk deep, biting sensations that left her right arm only numb. She screamed out in pain, landing hard on her left side on the ground. Andrew grabbed a rock and threw it at the titan. The rock skittered off the top of its head as the machine stopped its spin. Asylum turned around and, engine firing, came at the wounded slayer. Plates shifted on its back as it came slowly at her. Wood came out from behind the rock he used for cover, crossbow in hand and began screaming and firing at the machine-beast. He diverted its attention from his woman, and turned around to get it to follow.
"Robin!" she yelled out. Faith was sure that they were not going to see each other again. Andrew crawled over to her, trying to rip cloth from his shirt to cover the deep, bloody laceration that had formed where she had been struck. "I'm fine," she said, "please, Andrew, go help Robin." Andrew took a deep breath, trying to bolster his resolve. He set out following the worst of the rumbling, in hopes that Wood was still alive. Andrew stopped as large rocks descended from their place in the cave top.
-
"God, Faith gasped, "That hurts." She groaned loudly, her shoulder felt as though it had been cleaved in two. Her arm across her body, limp and useless Her shoulder had been crushed, that much was all she was certain of. One of the few things she had not been as of late was insure. Now uncertainty loomed over her head like a silver anvil waiting to fall.
Faith had been the one who was confident that they would win this fight. She let her overconfidence put two people; one she loved and the other grew on you like a fungus, in grave danger. This demon didn't seem like a demon. It moved like a robot from a sci-fi movie. She remembered the First's cleric, Caleb. He was strong, indeed, but nothing like this being. This machine's roar sounded like a semi-truck, only much, much worse. Something, she knew, had made this thing with great love and affection for destruction. Now they were its new victims. That was a thought that sickened Faith to her very core.
-
"Where are you, Robby the Robot?" Andrew nervously asked himself. He was afraid that this machine was going to come crashing from the wall any second now. The sounds of its charge had stopped, and the low rumble of the slowly shifting rock had ceased. The effect of the silence only made him worry more.
"I'm so going to die," he said. "I'm not going to get lucky this time." He continued to silently rationalize the chances of his death as he continued to look for Wood. Andrew thought about the many developments that had happened in his life since he had met the First. It was the only way he could take his mind off his impending doom. Andrew remembered how he had killed his only real friend, Jonathan. Then he had met up with Willow Rosenberg, who had gruesomely killed his other cohort in "evil", Warren. Things went from bad to better, as he was taken in by his former nemesis, Buffy. Then the First began its war, prepared to send a small army of Turakan to the surface. Buffy Summers, Spike, Faith and their crew, Andrew included, had managed to fend them off. They, however, had their losses. Several of the new slayers had died. Anya, it bothered him so, that he couldn't recall her last name, had been cleaved in two saving his meager life. Spike had died, burning the armies to cinders as Buffy had told them all.
He would have thought that his involvement with the group would have ended there, but it didn't. Surprised by the new strength and character he had shown, Rupert Giles had given him a truly grand offer. The watcher's council had all but been forever ended, and now needed rebuilding. Andrew had begun training as a watcher. He already had the knowledge of the occult; all he needed was the guidance. But then, to his surprise, when he went to LA to track down the psycho-slayer Dana, he had found Spike alive, so to speak, and well. Spike made him vow to not tell Buffy or anyone else that he lived again. He continued to carry this secret, even now, walking through this cavern towards the killer machine with the Hercules complex.
"I am going to die," he continued to quietly repeat, like a mantra.
-
Wood lay quite still. Pain racked his calf. He couldn't even feel the foot. Looking down, he saw that a large rock lay on top of his ankle. The limb had been crushed beyond repair. He had several cuts and bruises, and his lip was split and bleeding. Dust clung to his sweat. Wood smelled burning oil, like an overheated car. Looking up, he saw the source; Asylum knelt two feet from him, completely immobile. It seemed like it had crashed to a halt, mid-charge.
"Oh, thank god," he said, relieved. Now, he faced a new challenge, how to get back to Faith and Andrew without the use of his leg. He called out to either person. He was quite scared. They had walked right into a very bad situation. This machine could not be dead, and if it only lay dormant, he was certain to not be there when it rose again. He called again.
Wood tried pulled the rock from his foot. Agony seemed to well up in the spot. He let out a pained cry, as he finally lifted the rock enough to slide his leg out from under it. Using an elbow, he pulled himself closer to the machine. It remained motionless, intense heat distorted the air around it. He could now tell that this, without a doubt, was not a demon at all. Runes covered its polished surface. He began to speculate at their nature. Over the last several years, Wood had taken note of the power of symbols; the cross held vampires at bay, certain circles couldn't be crossed by demons, and spells frequently held much power in their symbols. Now, he wondered, what function this thing's symbols had. Did they give it its power and seemingly indestructibility? Or did they do worse things than that?
He stared at its eyes, red crystals that were empty and devoid of expression. They were not like that a few minutes ago, when they first saw it. Then, pure rage was prominently displayed in them.
"You just stay put for a while," he told it. He began to crawl towards where he believed Faith and Andrew to be. "Come on Robin, you can do it," he said to himself, like a small pep talk. Moments later he heard the sound of Andrew stumbling through the near pitch dark of the connecting cave.
"Wood?" Andrew called out.
"Over here, Andrew," he replied with a grunt.
"Is it dead?" Andrew asked as he began to climb over large piles of fallen debris.
"No. No, I don't think so," said Wood, "We do need to hurry. Where's Faith? Is she OK?"
"Yes," said Andrew, "She should be. She had me come find you, make sure that you were fine. Her shoulder looks pretty hurt though."
"I can't move my foot," said Wood, "It was crushed." Andrew looked down at it in the dim light of the cave. Wood's leg was malformed and wet with fresh blood. Andrew quickly tied strips from his pants around the wounded man's legs. They both wanted out of there as quickly as possible. That simply didn't seem likely. Their only known exit had been ruined, and the all the paths that remained seemed to only go deeper down into the earth.
After a few minutes the two began to trek back, leaving the immobile giant behind. Andrew struggled to hold up the weight of Wood's body. Wood, in far more pain than he cared to admit, had to stymie a cry of anguish with every step.
"Hey," reassured Andrew with a faint smile, "Uh, we are going to get out of here, and get some help. Then, uh, Uber-Jason back there will get his."
In response, behind them, Asylum fired its motor.
-
Faith waited. She waited for an end, either Wood and Andrew would return for her, or the monster would. She only wanted it to end one way or another. At the ruined cave entrance, came a rumble. Light poured between the rocks as the pile began to shift. Large boulders moved gently out of place, creating an opening. The light was bright enough to blind Faith, yet it didn't. Instead it was warming, comforting. An indistinct figure stepped though the opening, light framed its body as though it were meant to. Then the light died down. Standing before her was a large bird with a human shape. As the figure approached her, it pulled the staff from its back. The figure plucked a leaf from the staff, crushed it between gauntleted fingers and placed the mash in front of her mouth.
"Please eat, child," it said. Benevolent compassion could be heard in its voice. Faith chewed on the bittersweet leaf. It tasted terrible, yet she could feel strength returning to her. The pain in her shoulder subsided, and she soon learned she could stand.
"Go, now," it said, indicating the "door".
"No!" she said. "Not without my friends." In the distance, the engine of Asylum could be heard.
"I will help them," it said, its voice was a spell of its own, soothing the mind as the leaf had soothed the body. "You, however child, must go." Seeing the look of apprehension etched in the woman's face, the Archangel said flatly, "They will be safe with me, but you won't if you come. You will die today, if you don't go now."
Faith left through the opening. She did not want to leave, but she knew in her heart that what the being had just said was true.
-
The machine took to its feet. It looked around again for its toys. The men tried to escape, but it had far too good of hearing. It turned around to face them, both hobbling away slowly. It walked towards them, keeping pace. Its motor fired rhythmically, like it was humming, as it stalked behind them.
Wood stepped down wrong, eliciting a scream, and both he and Andrew fell to the ground. Andrew got back to his feet, and tried to pull Wood along the ground. Andrew was near to hysterical with fear. The machine stopped its approach, as though it were listening to something else.
-
Thaddeus charged out into the cave at Asylum, drawing his golden sword from it scabbard. Flames erupted form the blade. The seraphim leapt up high in the air, spinning as it flew over the titan's head, and brought the sword down on its back. The sword slid off the machine's back without damage. Thaddeus landed behind Asylum. Steam shot out as the machine's body shifted and delivered an impossible right cross punch, spinning completely around to do so. The fist caught Thaddeus full in he chest. The winged warrior slammed through two full layers of rock wall. His sword spun in place at the golem's feet. It bent down and picked it up. Both hands clasped firmly around the hilt and blade. Asylum exerted the pressure to destroy the weapon, yet it would not break. Its motor revved as it built ten times the amount of strength, and yet the blade remained fast.
"You shall never break it," said Thaddeus, standing right behind the metal behemoth, surprising Asylum. His beak was cracked and blood trickled down. He jumped up, kicking hard at the hand holding his sword, breaking it free of the iron grasp of Asylum. Thaddeus caught the sword in midair, flapped a wing to change position, and kick the machine square in its face with the other foot. Asylum flew backwards as Thaddeus landed. His crack on his beak had already sealed shut.
Asylum quickly recovered its footing as the angel ran up its chest, delivering another powerful kick. This time Asylum dropped to the ground, but immediately got back up. Thaddeus kept pressing forward delivering blow after blow to the face of the massive being with his gauntleted fists. He yelled to the humans to leave now. His blows seemed less effective with each one dealt, and Asylum was now getting up in spite of Thaddeus' efforts. Now standing, the golem tried to strike out at his diminutive assailant. Thaddeus dodged effortlessly under the swinging arm. Thaddeus tried to sever the arm with his sword. Again, it had no effect.
"Lords," Thaddeus spoke to his unseen council, "this should not be." The sword was designed by the Powers to cleave all things evil. It could rend the flesh of true demons, as well as any materi as though they were butter. Sniffing the air, Thaddeus realized why it was ineffectual. He smelled the soul of the Machine-beast. It was that of a child. The sacred blade could not harm innocence. Whatever this thing was, a child that truly meant no harm ran it.
"Well," Thaddeus said to Asylum, shaking his head at what he had to now do, "this shall be far more difficult."
The silver body of Asylum flew through the air at Faith, Wood, and Andrew. Faith practically had to pull Andrew, enfeebled with terror, from the golem's path. It had speed that something its size should not have. Asylum's arm shot out, striking the ground inches from Wood. The ground shook with tremor at the weight of its punch. It stopped as it past them, and steam shot from various joints as its upper body spun around to face them again. Armored plates shifted on the machine's shoulders as its arms repositioned to come straight down for churching blows.
Asylum came forward more slowly, fists crunching rock as it hit the dirt with every step. Earthen ceiling collapsed with each blow. Faith, Andrew, and Wood began to shout back and forth, yelling directions and plans as they moved. Each time the repositioned themselves to stay at a safe distance. Each knew that a single blow would make short work of them.
Asylum stopped his current charge. The armoring again altering itself to allow new kinds of movement, the upper body began to spin quickly, rotating on its hips.
"Move into the city!" yelled Faith to the others. They ran into the ruined demon city, looking for shelter. Somewhere had to be safe, at least safer than here. The titan's spinning arms devastated the walls as they ran behind them. More and more of the ceiling collapsed. Dust filled the air, as Andrew drew short of breath.
"I can't keep up"¦ you should go on without me," Andrew said. Asylum smashed into view, through another cave wall. "No," he yelled out, "don't leave me here! I don't want to die here!" Asylum came forward.
"No intention of leaving you, " Faith yelled, throwing Andrew to the ground, out of the way. She tried to dive on top of him. Asylum's hefty arm caught her hard in the shoulder. Pain sunk deep, biting sensations that left her right arm only numb. She screamed out in pain, landing hard on her left side on the ground. Andrew grabbed a rock and threw it at the titan. The rock skittered off the top of its head as the machine stopped its spin. Asylum turned around and, engine firing, came at the wounded slayer. Plates shifted on its back as it came slowly at her. Wood came out from behind the rock he used for cover, crossbow in hand and began screaming and firing at the machine-beast. He diverted its attention from his woman, and turned around to get it to follow.
"Robin!" she yelled out. Faith was sure that they were not going to see each other again. Andrew crawled over to her, trying to rip cloth from his shirt to cover the deep, bloody laceration that had formed where she had been struck. "I'm fine," she said, "please, Andrew, go help Robin." Andrew took a deep breath, trying to bolster his resolve. He set out following the worst of the rumbling, in hopes that Wood was still alive. Andrew stopped as large rocks descended from their place in the cave top.
-
"God, Faith gasped, "That hurts." She groaned loudly, her shoulder felt as though it had been cleaved in two. Her arm across her body, limp and useless Her shoulder had been crushed, that much was all she was certain of. One of the few things she had not been as of late was insure. Now uncertainty loomed over her head like a silver anvil waiting to fall.
Faith had been the one who was confident that they would win this fight. She let her overconfidence put two people; one she loved and the other grew on you like a fungus, in grave danger. This demon didn't seem like a demon. It moved like a robot from a sci-fi movie. She remembered the First's cleric, Caleb. He was strong, indeed, but nothing like this being. This machine's roar sounded like a semi-truck, only much, much worse. Something, she knew, had made this thing with great love and affection for destruction. Now they were its new victims. That was a thought that sickened Faith to her very core.
-
"Where are you, Robby the Robot?" Andrew nervously asked himself. He was afraid that this machine was going to come crashing from the wall any second now. The sounds of its charge had stopped, and the low rumble of the slowly shifting rock had ceased. The effect of the silence only made him worry more.
"I'm so going to die," he said. "I'm not going to get lucky this time." He continued to silently rationalize the chances of his death as he continued to look for Wood. Andrew thought about the many developments that had happened in his life since he had met the First. It was the only way he could take his mind off his impending doom. Andrew remembered how he had killed his only real friend, Jonathan. Then he had met up with Willow Rosenberg, who had gruesomely killed his other cohort in "evil", Warren. Things went from bad to better, as he was taken in by his former nemesis, Buffy. Then the First began its war, prepared to send a small army of Turakan to the surface. Buffy Summers, Spike, Faith and their crew, Andrew included, had managed to fend them off. They, however, had their losses. Several of the new slayers had died. Anya, it bothered him so, that he couldn't recall her last name, had been cleaved in two saving his meager life. Spike had died, burning the armies to cinders as Buffy had told them all.
He would have thought that his involvement with the group would have ended there, but it didn't. Surprised by the new strength and character he had shown, Rupert Giles had given him a truly grand offer. The watcher's council had all but been forever ended, and now needed rebuilding. Andrew had begun training as a watcher. He already had the knowledge of the occult; all he needed was the guidance. But then, to his surprise, when he went to LA to track down the psycho-slayer Dana, he had found Spike alive, so to speak, and well. Spike made him vow to not tell Buffy or anyone else that he lived again. He continued to carry this secret, even now, walking through this cavern towards the killer machine with the Hercules complex.
"I am going to die," he continued to quietly repeat, like a mantra.
-
Wood lay quite still. Pain racked his calf. He couldn't even feel the foot. Looking down, he saw that a large rock lay on top of his ankle. The limb had been crushed beyond repair. He had several cuts and bruises, and his lip was split and bleeding. Dust clung to his sweat. Wood smelled burning oil, like an overheated car. Looking up, he saw the source; Asylum knelt two feet from him, completely immobile. It seemed like it had crashed to a halt, mid-charge.
"Oh, thank god," he said, relieved. Now, he faced a new challenge, how to get back to Faith and Andrew without the use of his leg. He called out to either person. He was quite scared. They had walked right into a very bad situation. This machine could not be dead, and if it only lay dormant, he was certain to not be there when it rose again. He called again.
Wood tried pulled the rock from his foot. Agony seemed to well up in the spot. He let out a pained cry, as he finally lifted the rock enough to slide his leg out from under it. Using an elbow, he pulled himself closer to the machine. It remained motionless, intense heat distorted the air around it. He could now tell that this, without a doubt, was not a demon at all. Runes covered its polished surface. He began to speculate at their nature. Over the last several years, Wood had taken note of the power of symbols; the cross held vampires at bay, certain circles couldn't be crossed by demons, and spells frequently held much power in their symbols. Now, he wondered, what function this thing's symbols had. Did they give it its power and seemingly indestructibility? Or did they do worse things than that?
He stared at its eyes, red crystals that were empty and devoid of expression. They were not like that a few minutes ago, when they first saw it. Then, pure rage was prominently displayed in them.
"You just stay put for a while," he told it. He began to crawl towards where he believed Faith and Andrew to be. "Come on Robin, you can do it," he said to himself, like a small pep talk. Moments later he heard the sound of Andrew stumbling through the near pitch dark of the connecting cave.
"Wood?" Andrew called out.
"Over here, Andrew," he replied with a grunt.
"Is it dead?" Andrew asked as he began to climb over large piles of fallen debris.
"No. No, I don't think so," said Wood, "We do need to hurry. Where's Faith? Is she OK?"
"Yes," said Andrew, "She should be. She had me come find you, make sure that you were fine. Her shoulder looks pretty hurt though."
"I can't move my foot," said Wood, "It was crushed." Andrew looked down at it in the dim light of the cave. Wood's leg was malformed and wet with fresh blood. Andrew quickly tied strips from his pants around the wounded man's legs. They both wanted out of there as quickly as possible. That simply didn't seem likely. Their only known exit had been ruined, and the all the paths that remained seemed to only go deeper down into the earth.
After a few minutes the two began to trek back, leaving the immobile giant behind. Andrew struggled to hold up the weight of Wood's body. Wood, in far more pain than he cared to admit, had to stymie a cry of anguish with every step.
"Hey," reassured Andrew with a faint smile, "Uh, we are going to get out of here, and get some help. Then, uh, Uber-Jason back there will get his."
In response, behind them, Asylum fired its motor.
-
Faith waited. She waited for an end, either Wood and Andrew would return for her, or the monster would. She only wanted it to end one way or another. At the ruined cave entrance, came a rumble. Light poured between the rocks as the pile began to shift. Large boulders moved gently out of place, creating an opening. The light was bright enough to blind Faith, yet it didn't. Instead it was warming, comforting. An indistinct figure stepped though the opening, light framed its body as though it were meant to. Then the light died down. Standing before her was a large bird with a human shape. As the figure approached her, it pulled the staff from its back. The figure plucked a leaf from the staff, crushed it between gauntleted fingers and placed the mash in front of her mouth.
"Please eat, child," it said. Benevolent compassion could be heard in its voice. Faith chewed on the bittersweet leaf. It tasted terrible, yet she could feel strength returning to her. The pain in her shoulder subsided, and she soon learned she could stand.
"Go, now," it said, indicating the "door".
"No!" she said. "Not without my friends." In the distance, the engine of Asylum could be heard.
"I will help them," it said, its voice was a spell of its own, soothing the mind as the leaf had soothed the body. "You, however child, must go." Seeing the look of apprehension etched in the woman's face, the Archangel said flatly, "They will be safe with me, but you won't if you come. You will die today, if you don't go now."
Faith left through the opening. She did not want to leave, but she knew in her heart that what the being had just said was true.
-
The machine took to its feet. It looked around again for its toys. The men tried to escape, but it had far too good of hearing. It turned around to face them, both hobbling away slowly. It walked towards them, keeping pace. Its motor fired rhythmically, like it was humming, as it stalked behind them.
Wood stepped down wrong, eliciting a scream, and both he and Andrew fell to the ground. Andrew got back to his feet, and tried to pull Wood along the ground. Andrew was near to hysterical with fear. The machine stopped its approach, as though it were listening to something else.
-
Thaddeus charged out into the cave at Asylum, drawing his golden sword from it scabbard. Flames erupted form the blade. The seraphim leapt up high in the air, spinning as it flew over the titan's head, and brought the sword down on its back. The sword slid off the machine's back without damage. Thaddeus landed behind Asylum. Steam shot out as the machine's body shifted and delivered an impossible right cross punch, spinning completely around to do so. The fist caught Thaddeus full in he chest. The winged warrior slammed through two full layers of rock wall. His sword spun in place at the golem's feet. It bent down and picked it up. Both hands clasped firmly around the hilt and blade. Asylum exerted the pressure to destroy the weapon, yet it would not break. Its motor revved as it built ten times the amount of strength, and yet the blade remained fast.
"You shall never break it," said Thaddeus, standing right behind the metal behemoth, surprising Asylum. His beak was cracked and blood trickled down. He jumped up, kicking hard at the hand holding his sword, breaking it free of the iron grasp of Asylum. Thaddeus caught the sword in midair, flapped a wing to change position, and kick the machine square in its face with the other foot. Asylum flew backwards as Thaddeus landed. His crack on his beak had already sealed shut.
Asylum quickly recovered its footing as the angel ran up its chest, delivering another powerful kick. This time Asylum dropped to the ground, but immediately got back up. Thaddeus kept pressing forward delivering blow after blow to the face of the massive being with his gauntleted fists. He yelled to the humans to leave now. His blows seemed less effective with each one dealt, and Asylum was now getting up in spite of Thaddeus' efforts. Now standing, the golem tried to strike out at his diminutive assailant. Thaddeus dodged effortlessly under the swinging arm. Thaddeus tried to sever the arm with his sword. Again, it had no effect.
"Lords," Thaddeus spoke to his unseen council, "this should not be." The sword was designed by the Powers to cleave all things evil. It could rend the flesh of true demons, as well as any materi as though they were butter. Sniffing the air, Thaddeus realized why it was ineffectual. He smelled the soul of the Machine-beast. It was that of a child. The sacred blade could not harm innocence. Whatever this thing was, a child that truly meant no harm ran it.
"Well," Thaddeus said to Asylum, shaking his head at what he had to now do, "this shall be far more difficult."
ana8
Missing you....
PrettyasaPictur
What? I'm the Princess
Yea!!! I was actually able to get in!!....I really don't know what to say other than well done!...I liked the part that Andrew was reminising about old friends,& how they died, & how he's come this far( even though i can't stand him)...keep up the good work & post soon!!!
Magui
Scooby
MentPatient
White Hat
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2004
- Messages
- 956
u don't like wood do you...Magui said:Why didn't Wood just die?...kill him😀!...and post more of course:: tu ::
MORE!!! please?
No I am Doyle
1 Angry Lawyer
Part 24 - Relief
The dusk sky was impossibly violet. Clouds moved across as though they were carried on a river. There was wind, but Rene couldn't feel it, nor did she remember it should be. She stood in the middle of an empty surreal field wearing a light, modern sundress. She looked down. Acres of multicolored flowers surrounded her. Reds, lavenders, blues, and yellows adorned each flower's petals. The colors dripped from each flower like blood. She bent down to touch one. Colors clung to her hand like thick oil. Drops "fell" upwards from her right hand to her left. She could hear the clicking and buzzing of thousands of insects, coming seemingly from nowhere.
"They are just below the surface," Rene said to herself.
"They are."
Rene turned to see Willow standing behind her. She wore a regal gown of blue and purple and carried a mighty jeweled scepter.
"Are they eating?" Rene asked.
"No," said Willow, "They are trying to escape."
"Escape what?"
"The sun, my dear," said Willow, "The sun."
"Why?" Rene inquired.
"Because it burns, my dear. Because it burns."
"But"¦ the night is almost upon us." Rene said wistfully.
"Indeed. But something much darker is coming. Look." Willow pointed a finger up towards the purple night sky. Rene followed her gaze to a black sphere looming ominously in the distant darkening sky.
"What is it?" she asked Willow innocently, like she was inhibited from identifying the danger the dank consuming void presented. Rene turned her head to face Willow. Willow said nothing. She merely giggled. Rene stepped forward a few steps. The silk, liquid petals slid delicately across the legs of her bedclothes, dribbles of multicolored shades ran down her leg. Color seeped and stained the cloth of her garment and feet.
"Bad things, I'd imagine," Willow said coyly. The clicking became much louder. Willow continued to speak; yet Rene could not hear what she say over the overwhelming drone. Rene covered her ears, and faced away from her companion. The sounds surrounded her. Then, suddenly, the noise stopped. Rene slowly removed her hands from her ears. All was silent.
In the distance, Rene heard a lone baby's cry. It trailed along behind the tails of the wind. Soft at first, the cry got louder, sharper, piercing.
"I think he wants you to answer," came a new voice from behind. Rene turned to face it. The young woman from her dream of the music box, earlier that night, stood before her. Her sister, she remembered, was a slayer. She was dressed like the tiny woman in the box, ready for a performance.
"Who is he?" Rene asked, with honest confusion.
"He needs a bottle," said the younger woman. She began to dance about. Radiant colors splashed about, merging together into a brown soup.
"Stop, answer me, what d"¦"
-
Rene awoke to a full stomach, lying in the middle of the hard wood floor. Beads of sweat rolled off her body. Her head rested on the plush rug, an empty plate lay face down next to her. She wondered where she was. She quickly crawled to the crevice between the table and the bed. She heard signs of activity from outside the room. She prayed that they didn't know she was in the room, lest they had horrid plans for her later, at their leisure. She spent several long minutes pretending that she wasn't even there. Don't even think, she thought to herself. They can hear your thoughts, they can. Demons.
"I fight the demons," she whispered to herself, not believing a word of it. "I fight the demons." She chuckled lightly to herself. A knocking came at the door. Rene nearly jumped out of her skin. She clung, shaking, to the side of the bed, as the door open with a slight squeak.
"Hello?" a gentle voice spoke. Rene held her breath, and perspiration beaded on her forehead. She heard soft footsteps entered the chamber a few steps. She cringed, desperately hoping that they would not see her if she closed her eyes very tightly.
"Rene?" the voice almost said more than asked. Slowly, she looked up. Willow stood in front of the bed, looking down at her. She wondered how she knew that, as she had never asked this woman's name before. Or had she, it may have been so long.
"Hello, Rene. Are you all right?"
"N, n, n, ah, noooo," she stumbled, " N, n, not, not." She threw her arms up defensively in front of her eyes. Willow stepped forward, causing Rene to shrink away some more.
"It is safe here. It is a sanctuary for now. No one, no bad person, can detect you. No one can find you, no bad places, anymore. We will help you." Willow held out her hand for Rene to take. Very reluctantly, the slayer reached her hand out to Willow's. The two clasped their hands together. Rene saw several faces, a few young women, an older blonde woman, a younger, attractive man, and an older gentleman with a kind face. Rene felt love and sorrow meld and flow to other, exotic, kinds of emotions. Her body heaved with final relief. She stood up and took Willow into a near crushing embrace. She clung to her like she was the first person she had ever met. Technically, thought Willow, I am the first person she's met. Rene let go of her and said something in French, and turning, she faced the bed. She lay back down and cried and then she fell asleep.
-
Willow and Kennedy had just taken seats at a tall, carved stone table. The music was quite decent, a six-instrument band played polished Jazz and Ska sounds. Twelve large glass covered dance floors were laid about the club, each filled with patrons. Ivy crept along the walls and the tables were lit with small glass lanterns. Tonight it looked like they were only letting in a reserved kind of crowd, making Willow feel like she was sitting on display.
"I told you we'd get in, Red. Perks of being good looking," said Kennedy, with a smile. Willow returned with a bit uneasier. She had seen more than her fare share of atrocity today. She saw so many things she wished she could unsee. Waking nightmares that came and went through your head as they pleased, invading and disrupting. Now, she was worried for Rene. How could it possibly be for her, she wondered. Rest and relaxation may be needed now, but never have they been so misplaced, thought Willow. She wished only to spend all the time she could helping Rene to cope the best she could with what had happened over the millennia. She stopped dead in her tracks.
"How the in the heck am I going to do that?"
-
Rene slumbered like she had never before in her life, her sleep so deep that no dream could ever arouse her. For the first time in thirty-two thousand years, she let her guard down and it didn't come back to torment her.
The dusk sky was impossibly violet. Clouds moved across as though they were carried on a river. There was wind, but Rene couldn't feel it, nor did she remember it should be. She stood in the middle of an empty surreal field wearing a light, modern sundress. She looked down. Acres of multicolored flowers surrounded her. Reds, lavenders, blues, and yellows adorned each flower's petals. The colors dripped from each flower like blood. She bent down to touch one. Colors clung to her hand like thick oil. Drops "fell" upwards from her right hand to her left. She could hear the clicking and buzzing of thousands of insects, coming seemingly from nowhere.
"They are just below the surface," Rene said to herself.
"They are."
Rene turned to see Willow standing behind her. She wore a regal gown of blue and purple and carried a mighty jeweled scepter.
"Are they eating?" Rene asked.
"No," said Willow, "They are trying to escape."
"Escape what?"
"The sun, my dear," said Willow, "The sun."
"Why?" Rene inquired.
"Because it burns, my dear. Because it burns."
"But"¦ the night is almost upon us." Rene said wistfully.
"Indeed. But something much darker is coming. Look." Willow pointed a finger up towards the purple night sky. Rene followed her gaze to a black sphere looming ominously in the distant darkening sky.
"What is it?" she asked Willow innocently, like she was inhibited from identifying the danger the dank consuming void presented. Rene turned her head to face Willow. Willow said nothing. She merely giggled. Rene stepped forward a few steps. The silk, liquid petals slid delicately across the legs of her bedclothes, dribbles of multicolored shades ran down her leg. Color seeped and stained the cloth of her garment and feet.
"Bad things, I'd imagine," Willow said coyly. The clicking became much louder. Willow continued to speak; yet Rene could not hear what she say over the overwhelming drone. Rene covered her ears, and faced away from her companion. The sounds surrounded her. Then, suddenly, the noise stopped. Rene slowly removed her hands from her ears. All was silent.
In the distance, Rene heard a lone baby's cry. It trailed along behind the tails of the wind. Soft at first, the cry got louder, sharper, piercing.
"I think he wants you to answer," came a new voice from behind. Rene turned to face it. The young woman from her dream of the music box, earlier that night, stood before her. Her sister, she remembered, was a slayer. She was dressed like the tiny woman in the box, ready for a performance.
"Who is he?" Rene asked, with honest confusion.
"He needs a bottle," said the younger woman. She began to dance about. Radiant colors splashed about, merging together into a brown soup.
"Stop, answer me, what d"¦"
-
Rene awoke to a full stomach, lying in the middle of the hard wood floor. Beads of sweat rolled off her body. Her head rested on the plush rug, an empty plate lay face down next to her. She wondered where she was. She quickly crawled to the crevice between the table and the bed. She heard signs of activity from outside the room. She prayed that they didn't know she was in the room, lest they had horrid plans for her later, at their leisure. She spent several long minutes pretending that she wasn't even there. Don't even think, she thought to herself. They can hear your thoughts, they can. Demons.
"I fight the demons," she whispered to herself, not believing a word of it. "I fight the demons." She chuckled lightly to herself. A knocking came at the door. Rene nearly jumped out of her skin. She clung, shaking, to the side of the bed, as the door open with a slight squeak.
"Hello?" a gentle voice spoke. Rene held her breath, and perspiration beaded on her forehead. She heard soft footsteps entered the chamber a few steps. She cringed, desperately hoping that they would not see her if she closed her eyes very tightly.
"Rene?" the voice almost said more than asked. Slowly, she looked up. Willow stood in front of the bed, looking down at her. She wondered how she knew that, as she had never asked this woman's name before. Or had she, it may have been so long.
"Hello, Rene. Are you all right?"
"N, n, n, ah, noooo," she stumbled, " N, n, not, not." She threw her arms up defensively in front of her eyes. Willow stepped forward, causing Rene to shrink away some more.
"It is safe here. It is a sanctuary for now. No one, no bad person, can detect you. No one can find you, no bad places, anymore. We will help you." Willow held out her hand for Rene to take. Very reluctantly, the slayer reached her hand out to Willow's. The two clasped their hands together. Rene saw several faces, a few young women, an older blonde woman, a younger, attractive man, and an older gentleman with a kind face. Rene felt love and sorrow meld and flow to other, exotic, kinds of emotions. Her body heaved with final relief. She stood up and took Willow into a near crushing embrace. She clung to her like she was the first person she had ever met. Technically, thought Willow, I am the first person she's met. Rene let go of her and said something in French, and turning, she faced the bed. She lay back down and cried and then she fell asleep.
-
Willow and Kennedy had just taken seats at a tall, carved stone table. The music was quite decent, a six-instrument band played polished Jazz and Ska sounds. Twelve large glass covered dance floors were laid about the club, each filled with patrons. Ivy crept along the walls and the tables were lit with small glass lanterns. Tonight it looked like they were only letting in a reserved kind of crowd, making Willow feel like she was sitting on display.
"I told you we'd get in, Red. Perks of being good looking," said Kennedy, with a smile. Willow returned with a bit uneasier. She had seen more than her fare share of atrocity today. She saw so many things she wished she could unsee. Waking nightmares that came and went through your head as they pleased, invading and disrupting. Now, she was worried for Rene. How could it possibly be for her, she wondered. Rest and relaxation may be needed now, but never have they been so misplaced, thought Willow. She wished only to spend all the time she could helping Rene to cope the best she could with what had happened over the millennia. She stopped dead in her tracks.
"How the in the heck am I going to do that?"
-
Rene slumbered like she had never before in her life, her sleep so deep that no dream could ever arouse her. For the first time in thirty-two thousand years, she let her guard down and it didn't come back to torment her.