Willow: The Onslaught of Asylum (Post-season 7; contains spoilers)

Part 34 - When Fur Flies

Thaddeus landed in the middle of the street in the outskirts of Berdyans'k. Small homes with smoking chimneys line the avenue. He sniffed at the cold night air; the stench of aged misery still clung like brambles to cloth. He felt not the cold, internal warmth poured off him like a furnace. Thaddeus looked to the heavens.
"I am not sure where he went to"¦ well, you should still know. I knew before that infernal machine child had its little tantrum." Thaddeus threw his hands up. "I swear"¦ you are no help"¦ so called Powers That Be and you can't tell me where a single werewolf is. Oh, no challenge, eh"¦ don't you think I've had enough challenges over the millennia. No. I'll do it on my own." Thaddeus stretched out his powerful arms, his feathers fell free like a dandelion. They disappeared onto the wind. As he molted, his massive muscles shrank down. All bird-like features shifted and melded into a human looking eyes, nose, mouth, and feet. His wings folded into his back and the shimmering halo faded from sight. His golden clothing refit to his new size. Black hair replaced his multicolored plumage; Thaddeus took on a Scandinavian human appearance.
"Now"¦ where to begin. I will have to walk it from here." He began to stroll along the street, the air swished strangely on his now bare skin. A car backfired behind him, black smoke discharged from the tailpipe.
"They really have devised magnificent means of defiling all that you have created," he said to his unseen advisory, "just observing... Not interfere? What do you call what you have sent me here to do? Yes, yes, necessity." As he walked several vagrants gave the strangely dressed man who talked to himself odd looks. "I am not saying that we should let them handle this on their own, but"¦" Thaddeus stopped and looked at an old man who lay in an alley, hacking and coughing; illness escaped into the bitter wind. His frail body shook from hunger and despair. The man, the Archangel felt, had lived a decent life and now suffered for his lack of greed. Thaddeus' heart fell at the sight. So many people had walked past in heartless detachment.
"No wonder so many apocalypses had ripened in the autumn of man's inhumanity," Thaddeus said with disgust. The angel pulled the staff from its casing, plucking a lush green leaf from the sacred wood. He crushed the leaf in his gauntlet. The withering man gazed upon Thaddeus, his illness allowed him a glimpse of the true visage of the Power's avatar, yet he knew no fear.
"Here child, eat this," he said, placing the leaf paste upon the man's bloated tongue. He began to cough out the disease that gripped him; his pale flesh took on a lively hue. His mercy complete, Thaddeus started walking down the street again. He looked up as the Powers spoke to him.
"Oh, I know"¦ we are already interfering, what's one more"¦ leave me be."
-
The two lovers lay in Natalie's bed, their limbs intertwined; she kept looking at the ring he had given her. It was a humble ring, yet Natalie saw it as the most beautiful thing ever. Oz absently ran his fingers through her hair.
"You know," said Oz, gazing out at the full moon, "I really don't miss the cages." Over the last years, he had managed a remarkable level of control over his transformations. The techniques of influence he had learned in Tibet had come to full fruition. He no longer feared the moon, even though his blood still ran hot during these three nights.
"I am sure," Natalie said with a laugh.
"So, when were you going to tell your family?" he asked.
"Probably tomorrow. You?" Her delicate fingers circled his bare arms.
"I haven't spoken to them all that much since my cousin Jordy bit me. Something about the werewolf thing"¦ I think they can only deal with one wolf in the family. But I am sure I'll call them sometime soon." She nodded in understanding. Oz's mind soared in thought. Natalie rolled on her back and sighed lightly.
"I can't wait to go to the carnival tomorrow," she said, "They remind me of when I was a child."
"Oh yeah, I always liked the Gravitron." Oz gave way to a moment of reflection. "Although"¦ it's not a really good idea after five corn dogs." Natalie laughed and rolled over again to look at him. Her smile dropped away.
"I just, well, I don't have that good of relationship with my mother and father anymore." Natalie admitted. "Not since they were divorced. Now they speak to me as much as each other. I just miss the old days. Being a child. Holidays. The circus"¦ Oh, there is going to be circus at the end of the carnival, in like, two weeks."
Oz's reflection turned dark. His thoughts were torn from a place of innocence, his blood boiled, he felt hunger overtake him. Spasms wracked his chest. Oz felt his muscles twitch. Suddenly, he knew he needed to leave. He had no time to spare. Oz leapt up from the bed, wearing only pants. He felt the hair grow long on his arms and back.
"What is it, Oz?" asked Natalie. Worry etched into her features as she reached out foe him. Oz looked back and forth for the quickest exit. The wolf was coming, and Natalie's safety was in jeopardy.
"I've gotta leave. I'm changing." Oz's face puffed as his bones stretched and reshaped. His ribcage widened, a cracking, shifting sound coming from them. Oz groaned as he ran for the bathroom door. He would never make it back to his apartment, back to his cage. As he ran into the bathroom, he screamed out, "Natalie, don't open this door." He slammed the door shut and with a moan of pain, he locked the door.
Natalie got out of the bed. Slowly, she walked towards the door separating her fiancé and herself. Behind it, she could hear groans and thumping. The groans were quickly replaced with low growls, and Natalie became very scared. She had only witnessed one transformation in the past, and then, Oz had been in his cage. He had let himself go to show her the truth and the danger of their relationship. Now, the wolf was free, or rather, only locked behind a flimsy wooden door.
"Oz?" she asked meekly. She heard nothing. "Oz?" She moved in close to the door, listening. No thumping, no growling, nothing. Natalie's bare feet slid lightly across the old carpet. She let out a fearful sigh. She could only wonder, what was causing him to change? "Oz"¦ are you all right?" Still, no sounds came from behind the door. Her eyes were lightly rimmed with tears.
"Please, Oz, say something," she asked weakly. Natalie jumped as a clawed fist slammed through the door, accompanied by a deep growl. She ran for the front door to her apartment. Behind her, the sound of wood cracking resonated richly as the door was splintered free of its hinges. Natalie glanced back as she fumbled with the door handle. She saw Oz, fully changed, leaping at her from only a few meters away, claws bore to strike.
-
The stranger had just arrived in Donets'k, taking his first few steps off the air plane. It had been the first time he had ever ridden in a plane and he found that it was just another one of the splendors this world had to offer. The man was considered to be very handsome, and well muscled. He was well dressed in black pants and a black leather coat that was bought for him by a former love. His light brown hair had been grown to its once great length. Deep blue and not fully human eyes glanced at his surroundings with a seemingly perpetual naivety. The stewardess bid him a good night, followed by a lingering smile.
"And you to," the man said, beaming back charismatically, as he walked down the stairway to the runway below. Cool wind blew and clouds seemed to gather in the dark horizon. The stranger pulled his coat closed, a small shiver collected at the base of his spine. At the end of the runway, an older man in a fine suit leaned against a car. He approached the stranger; his walk was a casual swagger.
"Are you the Groosalug?" he asked, offering his hand to the foriegner.
"Yes, yes I am, my friend."
 
Really nice....but Groo???Not that I hate him,or yeah that's the reason..but we'll see...I trust your choices
 
Sorry but you'll have to wait as No,I am Doyle won't be able to come online for some time..But it's worth waiting for🙂
 
Part 35 - Losses

"So... what now, smart guy?" Faith asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Just wait until the F-14's arrive," Riley said to Faith. He pulled a handgun from his vest as he looked over the back of the smoking debris the three now took cover behind.
"And what do you plan to do with that? Tickle it into submission?" added Wood. Riley looked at him and then back up as someone approached.
"Here comes Andrew," he announced. Panting, Andrew ran to join them. His legs gave way like jelly as he rounded the destroyed truck. He was met with a strong slap to the back of his head from Faith.
"Oooooooow!" he said a little too loud.
"That's for trying to be a hero, I ought to smash you up right here and now." Andrew rubbed the back of his throbbing head. Overhead the sounds of the jets shook the air, eliciting a most patrotic response from Major Finn. The first four F-14's released a volley of laser guided air to ground bombs. The explosives sailed silently through the air towards their large silver target. Massive detonations rocketed the many ton golem through the air, scorching its shining surface. The titan hit the ground with a small rumble. The squadrons flew by, circling around for anouther pass.
"What does it take?!" Riley shouted out in frustration as Asylum stood back up and prepared to face its new enemies. Behind them, the Apaches raced in firing their 30 mm chainguns. Down on the ground, the shells bounced harmlessly off of the metal giant.
"Obviously not a judicious application of force," Faith said absently, looking over the edge of the truck at the display of folly playing out now. Asylum touched the runes on its thighs, propelling the golem up into the air. From a distant radio, the four could hear, "What the hell?!"
-
Asylum sped to meet up with the flying machines. They moved much more quickly than it could, but that just made the game more enjoyable for the child. As the jets passed again, Asylum flew out and caught one F-14 by the wing. The metal collapsed like paper under the strength of the grasp. An Apache intercepted the titan, allowing the jet fighters to regroup and come in for another assault. Asylum thrust forward, putting its inbending arm out to block the rotars. They snapped like toothpicks as the helicopter spiraled towards its final landing. Aslum was enveloped by the blast of a Hellfire missile from another Apache. All went dark.
-
It saw a face, yet, Asylum could not discen the identity. A woman, very beautiful, seemed to stand just in the distance looking back. Asylum knew that it needed to find her.
-
The jets whipped passed on either side of Asylum, their turbines heating the air as the machine came back to reality. The last three fired Sidewinder missiles as they climbed up towards the atmosphere. The missles knocked Asylum back ten feet, yet still did nothing else. The golem regained its bearings and shook its head. It was quickly losing patience; Asylum had elsewhere to be. Looking at the many flying pests that now split up and swarmed around it, Asylum instinctively touched a rune located on its shoulder. Internal mechanisms sprung to life as its head and neck moved forward and its back began to open up. A large sectioned rod snapped into place, extending a full ten feet above its head. At its tip, a large round ball began to spark as it pulled large quantities of static from the air. As the energy built, its whole body crackled and pulsed with arching bolts. Moments later, Asylum released the pent up electricity. It travel quickly out in a wave all around the silver titan. As it caught each vehicle in its wake, they shut down and began to sail violently towards the ground.
-
The air filled with static, causing the hairs on the onlookers bodies to stand on end. Riley watched in silent horror as the machine swiftly dispached two full squads of F-14 jets and twelve Apaches. They never stood a chance, he realized. Riley had never seen a mission go south so quickly and badly before. He understood and accepted the fact that sometimes there were casialties, but he had witnessed this creature's savagery render the lives of over eight hundred men null and void in just under nine minutes. Eight hundred men who would never go home to their wives, girlfriends, or children. Eight hundred lights snuffed out as though they didn't matter.
"I hope whatever made this thing is pleased," he said, his voice soaked in anger.
-
"I am pleased," Lofthre said to himself, emphasising his giddiness with a chuckle. He peared into a scrying crystal. Asylum's fight played out in its glassy surface. "Such a beauty. I am loving it. It hasn't even used all the tricks in its bag. Nothing can stop this puppy. Nothing."
-
Asylum dropped to the ground. It had no further intrest in staying or playing. It only wanted to find the woman it had seen the muddled face of in its vision. It stood completely still, calmly thinking of the face, trying to peice it together. To Asylum's suprise, it could feel her presense, sense her. The golem felt compelled to find this person, without knowing why. It could tell that it had a long journey ahead of it before it would get to its newest target. It would play again soon enough.
Asylum took its first few steps eastward and on to new places.
 
C
Ciggy-breath
I like the story
Wow! He can fly!! OMG... He's going to destroy the world...dun dun dun!!!....with visions too!!!.....Anyways, can't wait to hear more about Rene(hint,hint)....lol
 
Ciggy-breath said:
I can't believe anyone would read this trite crap. Oh well.
I guess you don't know good reading when it bites you in the a** do ya?....but I guess everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even if it is wrong!!!!
 
C
Ciggy-breath
Thanks a bunch
Part 36 - Acceptance (Dedicated to Ana8)

Prussia - 1649 September 23 11:39 PM
The quickly darkening plane stretched out around her. Thunderheads rose like billowing giants. Their bruised hues highlighted with a silvery glow as the rapid lightningstrikes arched and thunderclaps echoed from within. The outlines of the flowing demonic force within shone crimson in the black clouds. Rene stood in the mossy grass, the wind sweeping her chocolate tresses. In the distance, a funnel of davastation ravaged a small formerly silently slumbering village. So many lives faded like the lights from the candles snuffed by the airy torrent. She was too late. Cursing, she ran along the grassy slopes surrounding the small torn hamlet. Behind her, a man in his mid-twenties and dressed in the garb of an acedamian, lagged only slightly behind. He was a fit man with blonde hair and a short matching beard. A scholar, mystic , and cleric of the old lores, he had proven himself many times before to be invaluable to Rene.
"I fear we are too late, my lady," he shouted in barely audible sorrowful tones. Only in recent years, had his habit of calling her "my lady" become less annoying and more endearing.
"What was your first clue, DeClaud?" she yelled back, also fighting the din of the mystic storm. As they neared, they both struggled against the pull of the gale, let alone to keep their footing. They reached the last few inches of safe air, just shy of the range of the demonic winds. Amid the debris and carnage that whipped about in the raging storm's strong grip, oily black astral demons stretched out their now corporeal limbs; rending and tearing as they were carried along. The howl of the wind was muted by the roar of the apparition's fury.
"Once we get inside," DeClaud yelled to Rene, "we must locate the temple's entrance! I need to get to a place of calm, if I am to be of assistance!" Rene reached out and knocked him abruptly to the ground. His suprise was replaced by relief as a large section of cottage wall careened mere feet above his head. A brief smile flashed between them as the slayer took her watcher's extended hand and pulled him to his feet. DeClaud began to chant in Summerian, his eyes grew raven black. Energy pulsed from his being and a perfect sphere, encompassed of many illuminated power circles designed to repel evil's wicked might, slowly pushed open a hole in the violent tempest. The two rushed through, laying their fortunes in the fickle hands of the fates.
-
She tossed and rolled violently on the bed. Earlier in the evening, Rene had fallen from the dumpster into the arms of the first witnesses of her power. She body lacking the strength to carry her weight anymore. Her newlyfound "gifts" had drained her dry and and the force her mind exerted left her nearly catatonic. Blood trickled from her nose, as the vessels supplying her damaged mind with vital fluids, throbbed and pounded in exquisite agony. Willow, Xander, and Kennedy had hurried her back to the Summer's apartment.
Now, she spent long hour in tormented unrest. Her dreams were far too horrifying to allow her mind it's needed rest. Her body was drenched with sweat, and her limbs shook. The soft, silken sheets clung to her lithe form, rustling with her sharp movements.
-
"I wish Giles was back," Willow said to no one in peticular. She and Kennedy laid back on the leather couch, both looking more than a little tired; Xander had sunk himself so far into the matching chair, one would have though he had merged with it. He rubbed his forhead with powerful strokes, his palms grinding against his damp flesh and hair.
"I would say that this has been one crazy day," he piped in, from behind his hands, "but that would belittle so many of the other crazy days we've lived. I mean, I can't even act suprised."
"I know. With Rene and Ms. Calender, well, I mean, it just seems like something bad is coming. Every time situations get this tense, it'd usually blows up on us."
"Yah," Xander said with minor humor, "When it rains, the bad guys come out of the woodworks."
"Your mixing metaphors, Xand," said Kennedy.
"So my metaphors are a little blended. At least they are not on the rocks. All I am saying is that this is usually when the hammer drops." He smoothed back his lightly curly hair. Kennedy got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
"Coke?" she asked Willow.
"Root Beer, if there's any left."
"Me too," Xander added. Kennedy removed three soda from the picture clad fridge, and headed back out to the living room. Rene reached out and caught her by the shirt collar, hoisting her up high above her head. The cans crashed to the floor, their contents exploding out onto the rug. Xander and Willow whipped around as Kennedy clutched futily at the altered slayer's unnatural iron grasp.
"What am I?!" she demanded in English, tears of fear and rage flowing freely from her dark lined eyes. "Am I a woman?!" She swung Kennedy around with ease to face a now standing Willow. "Am I a monster?!" Kenney kicked out with her legs, trying to unbalance Rene. The slayer never faltered an inch.
"You are just a woman, Rene," Willow said as evenly as she could. "You are in a safe place now. Everything will be all right."
"SAFE! I AM NOT SAFE! NOTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT!" Her words were marked with both her still lush French accent and the violent trembling of the building itself. Pictures of the old gang fell from their places on the walls and mantle. Rene looked longingly at Xander. The shaking stopped. Xander squirmed in his shoes, more than a little afraid of what was going through superslayer's mind. Still, he knew that he might be the only one to calm Rene down. Swallowing, he stepped forward.
"Rene. Put her down... please." Again, he swallowed hard at the great lump welling up in his throat. "Boy smell nice," he said to himself. Rene cocked an eyebrow at him, not sure what to think. Kennedy was lowered slowly towards the floor.
"Am I in hell?" she asked weakly; hope long since gone, she awaited her next torment. Still, she couldn't deny the fullness of this incarnation of the world. Every sight and sound lacked the muddling harshness present in the illusions of the demons. This man, Alexander's mind offered her a greater soothing relief than she could even remember. Even the trash she had eaten earlier was a finer banquet than the wretched "meals" she had been forced to eat over the last several millenia.
"No...not anymore," he said, calmly. She didn't really care if it was just a game anymore. Rene let out a pitiful sob; finally, she believed it. Her fingers slipped open; Kennedy fell to the floor. Resting on her hands, she backed away from Rene. Slowly, the French slayer approached Xander. Terror now filled him as he awaited the unexpected reaction from Rene. To his relief, she gently slid her arms around him and took him into a great embrace. She shuttered as she sobbed. Xander nervously ran his fingers over her hair, shushing her into a silent release. He guided her over to the couch and into her first peaceful slumber in thirty-two millenia.
 
It is time for another vote. Who (of the characters in the story) would you like the next part to be about?

1. Giles and Jenny
2. Asylum
3. Oz
4. Thaddeus
5. Faith, Wood, and Andrew

Please PM me with your votes, no more parts will be written until a few readers have spoken. And don't forget to read the last part (36). It is brand spankin' new.
 
Part 37 - As the Rain Falls Down

Thaddeus could sense the change in the air, the pungence of dark power was suffocating, choking. The archangel knew that someone or something was weilding powerful magics. Not your garden variety of pleas to Hecate, but the darkest of dark brand of warlock incantations. The energies rippled throughout the city of Berdyans'k. He felt the pull as the winds changed. Something wicked had settled, and now was making this place home.
-
A young man of seventeen sat, crosslegged, attop the fresh dirt of the gravesite. Dried streaks of tears line his face. A worn, folden picture sat in his lap; a nearly empty bottle of vodka lay next to him. He muttered drunkenly to himself, apologizing for his foolishness, for driving drunk with someone he loved riding shotgun. A banging thundercrack shook him from his inebriated revrie. He look skyward. The stars shone brightly, unblemished by a single cloud.
He felt something heavy and wet fall from the heavens onto his face, followed by another and another. He put his hand to his face, touching at the wet spot. Crimson stained his finger as more drops followed. Looking down at the picture in his lap, he saw a squiggling mass. It resembled a three-headed earthworm, only much larger and covered in a viscous fluid that resembled coagulated blood.. It looked up at him and smiled with a toothfilled maw. He screamed as many more of these creatures rained down like a plague over the graveyard.
The worm hopped off of his lap and began to burrow deep into the recently upturned soil of his former girlfriend's grave. The youth jumped to his feet, his screaming had yet to subside, and looked around at the many tiny creatures that stopped to smile at him before they also began to dig deep underground. He stomped at the swarm as they disappeared. All was calm and silent. Then the Earth heaved and buckled under him. The dirt overturned as a ragged feminine body emerged from it. Through the mud and mohagany splinters of her coffin, he looked into the dull grey eyes and saw the face of his now dead lover.
"Peta?" he asked, his heart skipping, changing from a fast beat to a nearly painful thudding. Her response was reach out and tear the throat from his neck, before he could even scream.
-
Thaddeus stopped at the front door of the small apartment. Inside he could hear a low growl, followed by a not so low one, followed by screams and loud footsteps.
"I am aware." he said to his patrons. The divine being snapped into action.
-
The claws dug deep. Natalie's skin felt on fire. She was pinned down by the weight of Oz. She covered her face with her arms, blood dripped from her fingers. The wolf Oz relentlessly tore at her, Natalie screaming the whole time. Oz lowered his head to deliver a killing bite. A strong hand caught the wolf's head and helld it in place. Natalie felt the full weight of her fiancee ripped off of her.
Looking up, through the blinding pain and blood, Natalie saw a handsome darkhaired man, dressed in a gold loincloth, hold the thrashing werewolf at bay. Claws tore at the flesh on his arm, but left no cuts. The man exhaled deeply, his breath a white mist. Instantly, the wolf stopped its thrashing and slumped in the air. The man set it down, and a small whimper came from him as the hair receeded and his claws retracted back into his hands. Now, Natalie lay there whimpering in pain.
"Eat this, child," said the man.
-
Thousands of corpses, all imbued with a strong demon essence, walked or crawled away from the graveyard. All moved with more grace and speed of your average zombie. In the late hours, activity in the city had slowed to a crawl. Those few who remained out on the streets seemed to not notie the undead exodus. Many were barely more than wet bones covered in rotting meat. The others were fresher,the many tricks morticians used to cover death wounds and autopsies had torn free and open.
After a short while, the mass arrived at the dcks. Bare feet padded along, shoes, singles and pairs, clumped heavily on the pavement. As they all reached a large black ship, they stopped.
"Welcome, my dear friends, to The Carnivale of Wonders, THE truly greatest show on Earth." said the well dress form of Johnathan Stalvos. Next to him, in far less pricey threads, stood his favorite partner in crime, Benny. Benny coughed like a chain smoker who had upped his habit, catching the exess in a small dirty handkerchief. "You may be wondering," Stalvos continued, "why I have again summoned the Great Worms of Nasu. My current staff was not quite up to par. We had deadlines to meet, and morale seemed to be slipping." He turned to Benny, and said in more hushed tones, "And besides, I needed their hearts to complete my enchantments." Turning back, with a small smile, "So now, I make this proposition to you... help me finish my tasks, and you shall have your fill of all the supple flesh you can devour. Hell, you can have your fill a hundred times over." He emphasised his point with a hearty, throaty laugh.
-
Oz lay on the bed. He was so overcome, he couldn't speak. He had nearly killed the woman he loved, had caused her so much pain. All because he had become complacent with his "responsibilty", too confident that he had a nearly unbreakable control over his changes. Natalie, now fully healed and more scared than anything else, sat behind him, combing his hair with her fingers. Thaddeus stood in the middle of the room, silently scoping out the small apartment, giving the mortals time to adjust to circumstances. Oz had appologized, or rather tried to, over and over until he had simply stopped trying. Nothing could make him feel worse.
"You know..." Thaddeus started, "all things said, children... it could have been worse."
Oz leapt up, and in a rare moment of anger, said, "How could they be worse. I almost killed her. Almost.." Oz drifted off and lloked back to the woman he had proposed to mere hours before. Thaddeus shook his head.
"Yes. Almost. But you didn't. She will be fine and you love her, and believe it or not, that is all that matters in this world or the next. But, there are far more important matters at hand, things more grave than your unexpected change. You are scared and confused, and sadly, you should be." Thaddeus moved in closer. "I do not believe that you transformation was a result of lack of control... I believe it was forced. I have felt strong powers in the air, and I am positive that they are they catalyst. And that is why I am here."
Natalie, lightly shaking, scooted forward to the edge of the bed, "What do you mean? Who are you? Why are you here?" Oz nodded in agreement at her inquiry.
"There is an ancient prophesy about the end of all things," Thaddeus said darkly.
"You mean another apocolypse?" asked Oz.
"No, more than that. You see, the true apocalypse will be a series of wars, meant to dwindle the power of the good fight. As each minor battle comes, we lose too many good warriors, kindred spirits of the cause. It started in the town of Sunnydale, where you herald from, and shook the land to rubble. Soon another shall come to the streets of Los Angeles. But we fear that the third shall come second, and it shall bath much of this world in its darkness." Oz became entranced in the words of the stranger, their meaning burning into his brain, etching themselves into his already troubled thoughts. Sunnydale... shaken to rubble... was Willow alright, or Buffy and Xander? What had happened?
As if reading his mind, Thaddeus said, "Those you have fought and bled with survive. And soon, you must seek them out, but first things first... you must prepare, child."
Oz's face screwed as he asked, "Prepare for what?" Thaddeus smiled brightly.
"To become a champion, child."
 
Part 38 - Best Left Unsaid?

Prussia - 1649 September 23 9:13 PM
"So this Rocco is going to come up from Hell and start a war with...?" Rene brushed her dark brown hair back from her face and moved over to a large pillow meant for long hours of prayer and reflection. The church was quiet, peaceful. Yet the serenity did nothing to ease the nervs of Rene and her watcher.
"Rishaka. Lord of Warfare"
"What ever," she fired back, smiling.
"And yes, my lady, I can only assume that those are his intentions." He flipped through the pages of one of many leatherbound texts sprawled out to key passages on the stone floor of the Abbot's office. Setting down that book, he stood up and walked around to another book. He picked it up and began to read. "...master of the ancient crafts of warfare and battle... worshiped by many sects of the Asyrians... engineered the Crusades..."
"Cause lots of death and destruction... yes, DeClaude, he is very bad. All I need to know is where he is and how to kill him." She stood up, clasping her hands together. For Luc DeClaude, this was a far more somber matter, one set of dire circumstances and harsh consequences. He had the lightly stiff English posture set against a sturdy frame from groing up in wilds of South Africa
"There is far more to this matter than simply finding the monter." said Luc, "I mean, what if Rishaka has already set in motion events that cannot be undone by merely killing him. And that is despite the fact that we are dealing with an Old One... a true demon. This thing is a master of not only combat against things of it's own size, but is adept with every aspect of the arts of warcraft and engineering. Who know what strategy or device this thing might throw at us. We must discover what we might have to face." Rene stopped her pacing and turned sharply on one heel.
"What if we don't have time. Look, we know the portal is opening somewhere nearbye. For all we know is that we are already too late. I say if we are going to find out, we had best find out soon." In his twenty three years of life, no one had ever been able to drive him up the wall than Rene. She was always ready to fight the good fight, and almost always with him at her side. He had seen the best of her as well as the worse times. No one had earned more respect from him than her.
"Then, we had best get on it, don't you agree? In the last several years, he had dedicated many hours to teaching her to read. Without those skills, he felt that she would never be a complete slayer.
"It is as if you are reading my mind," she mused. The two continued to peruse the materials, pouring nearly an hour into study. Stumbling onto a relavent passage, Rene looked up at DeClaude. "I think I have found something," she said to Luc. He moved closer to inspect the texts with her. "Temple of the Lord of Warcraft... shrine devoted to the Demon Rishaka...all right, built over with a small monastery. Same place we thought it would be... oh oh! There is part here on a ritual to bring him to the surface... and oh." Her brow furled as she became slightly confused.
"What is it?" asked her watcher. He took the book from her lap and began to read himself. "The ritual can only be performed...light of the full moon...oh holy arse," he said, looking up at her with a look of intense worry, "we've only got two hours."
-
Jenny Calendar threw the key to her hotel room down on the nightstand. Behind her Giles asked, "How do you feel?" as he checked in the mirror for horns.
"Like Ethan built a jazz club in my head, and then threw a party. My head is pounding"
"Well, I am going to bash that Burke into paste... all in all, it could have been worse. Last time, I woke up a demon. I really should have known better. Especially with you involved. I really am sorry about all this." Jenny moved closer to him, patting his sides with her hands.
"It's okay Rupert. I'll be fine. Besides, we've been through far worse than this. Or have you forgotten Angelus snapping my neck like a lincoln log?" Giles gave her a long look, one that conveyed a bit of annoyance mixed with a hint of pain. "I'm sorry... it's just that this is nothing, a few hundred tylenol and I'll be back to a zen place."
"Well," Giles said, "I am going to call Willow and let her know what we have discovered. I can only hope it will be a boon to her. Perhaps something of her past can Give Rene a starting ground for recovery..." He trailed off, thinking, "I truly fear that she is beyond want or desire for a normal life. It's just to large a cross to bear. I can't see how she could ever fit in with our society. But..." He shook his head. Hope, to him, seemed a distant and reaching thing. "Here's to hoping, I guess." Jenny slid of her blouse, and threw it on the bed. Her years of being dead had stripped her of her modesty. More than slightly embarassed, Giles turned towards the wall. Jenny could only grin at his gentlemanly discomfort.
"I need to take a nice hot shower," she said. Giles turned, not quite facing her.
"Right... I'll, uh, just, make a phone call."
-
Prussia - 1649 September 23 11:44 PM
Inside the vortex, all was calm and silent, not even the howl of wind nor demon could be heard.
"Eye of the storm," said DeClaude.
"Or something," Rene added. Before them the old stone monastary stood quiet and empty. They knew that beneath it, many secrets lay in wait. The front door slammed open and a small cadre of vampires, about ten total and all armed to the teeth, ran out.
"Watch out, Luc," Rene said cavalierly. She pulled her broad sword from it's sheath with her left hand, and a stake out with her right. She charged into the fray as DeClaude began to chant, twisting, rolling fire forming in his hands. Rene ducked low, under the the swing of the first vampire in her way. Swinging her sword high, she cleaved him in two. She stood, and with a simple flick of her wrist, she took its head. Rene brought the sword high and behind her, blocking a solid club blow from the next vamp.
Tendrils of living flame rolled off DeClaude's arms. They lashed out at a vamp with a cruel looking flamberge sword, the flames licking at the demon, burning its undead flesh. Screaming in pain, the vampire swung his jagged two-hander in an acurate strike, missing only because of the flames now consuming it's face. Moments later, it fell to ash, the sword falling to the grass.
Rene brought the sword from a block to a full swing, hitting the club from the vamps hands. She stuck her sword into the ground and delivered a hard kick to the chest. Rene followed the vampire as it fell backwards, kicking it again in the face as it tried to rise. She spun on her heel and buried the oak stake in its heart. Two vamps behind her came in fast and silently. One hit her hard, winging her with the side of it's hooked mace. She grunted as the blow registered. She ducked low, flipping over and back up to her feet. As the two vampires ran in for an attack, she jumped up and kicked out with both legs. She caught both in the face, they fell, she landed.
"Rene, on your right!" DeClaude called out. Looking that way, she had only a moment to duck low, narrowly avoiding the business end of a sword. The vampire kept moving forward as Rene spun in the grass, her legs swinging hard, catching its legs. The demon thudded against the ground, Rene followed up with a stake to the heart. DeClaude caght the two that had snuck up on her with his flame tounge spell, and they were now burning to cinders. Rene grabbed up her sword from the dirt.
Rene and DeClaud went back to back, facing the four remaining vampires, each with a flamberge, who had joined together and came in hard and fast. Four long swords cut through the air in differing patterns. These four seemed far more skilled at combat, as they knew to stay out of the reach of DeClaude's spell. Rene counterstepped with one, keeping her face to its. DeClaude kept the others occupied with his snapping, flailing fire tendrils.
Rene's vampire stepped in swinging high then low with its sword. Rene parried the blade both times, before returning with three of her own slashes. The vamp blocked the first two, before the last cut through his defenses, slashing out his side. As he fell, Rene jumped and spun, her broadsword taking its head clean off. DeClaude let his spell expire and chanted again, this time in Gaelic as Rene rushed in after the last three. She lept up and threw a carefully aimed stake, nailing one through the heart. She brought her sword up to catch one's sword, then spun and did the same with the other. She held them at bay, steele clashing, as DeClaud worked his wicked magicks.
The vampire that was now on her left came in. His slashes and footwork were well balanced, almost as much as Rene's. The one on the right seemed to hold back more. Rene couldn't tell if it was afraid or calculating. The more aggressive vamp tried to place itself on the other side of Rene, to spread out her range of focus. He kept his flamberge busy the whole time, slashing high and then low. Rene block his relentless assault, as well as the occational intrution of the other.
"You are going to die tonight, slayer!" the one growled as it continued it pincer assault, closing in on the sides of Rene. Just then the other snapped into action, its strength reserved, as it moved its heavy blade around without effort. Rene's sword flashed back and forth as she fended off the now overwhelming attacks, barely keeping her center. DeClaude finished his incantation. Blue powdery energy formed in the air in front of him; swirling and colliding, the power rose up into the air. From the ball of mystic energy, water began to spray out, covering the two remaining vampires. The fluid sizzled on contact. The vampires screamed as their skin blistered and peeled badly. The began to run frantically as they tried, inneffectively, to dodge away from the conjured holy water. One ran into the storm and was rended before he had made his second step. The other ran in the other direction, the spell continuing to spray it with the sacred waters. Finally, it collapsed into a pile of wet ash.
Rene sheathed her broadsword and looked at DeClaude. "They were fanatical, were they not?"
"I fear, my lady, we haven't the time for banter," DeClaude said breathlessly.
"Right, end of the world and all that."
-
Jenny gave a satisfied yawn as she came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. She wore a blue, silk nightgown, lovely, yet outdated. Enjoying the solid tactile sensations of the silk as it lightly crossed her bare flesh, she kept smoothing out the sides. She entered to find a grim look on the face of Rupert Giles.
"What is it?" she asked, worry filled her. Gilesthought on that question for a moment.
"It seems that Rene has gotten out and had a bit of an adventure. She seems to have manifested some sorts of powers. Telepathy and telekinesis, and apparantly she is far stronger than an ordinary slayer."
"That's not so good then, huh?"
"It could make our working with her very difficult... if not next impossible. I fear that we may be trying to bite off more than we can chew."
"But, your not just going to give up on her... are you?"
"Heavens no. I would just prefer it if Rene was in a more secluded location... back at the Manor, middle of Antactica, anywhere but in the middle of a city full of people. I fear the consequences of her actions should she loose it."
"Loose it, huh?" Jenny ran the towel through her long hair.
"Yes, well I have my reservations."
"So, how would you plan on moving her? Slayer Express?"
"Details I need to work out. In the morning, I think is best to get some rest now," he said, his eyes widened as he finally noticed the outfit Jenny wore. She smiled at his akward glance. "Well, I uh, had best be going to my room. Um, good night, Ms. Calender." Jenny frowned as he took his first step towards the door. She had picked her outfit carefully.
"Rupert," she said. Giles turned around.
"Yes?" he asked. She spent a moment thinking of all the things she wanted to say. She shook her head.
"Nothing. Good night, Rupert." She gave a half attempt at a smile.
"Good night, Jenny."
 
Part 39 - Cloak and Dagger

Faith had never been so amazed by the devastation one creature could cause. She had thought long and hard on this as she sat on the hard wooden bench outside Nigel's door. Inside, Wood and Andrew continued to fill him in on the machine they had tried to fight, as well as the results of the military's battle. Tired of the topic, she had excused herself and resigned to the hallway. She now thought about Riley Finn, the army boy ex-boyfriend of Buffy's. He had departed for Langley earlier, to speak with... who knows who he would be speaking with. He had the demenor of a defeated man. He had seemed to age ten years in a day. Shame really, she thought, he was so cute.
Few things had ever made the slayer feel like a victim, like being a slayer meant nothing. Kakistos, Caleb, and occationally, Buffy; but none of them seemed as unstoppable as that "thing". It was beyond demon measures of strength, fast, and unkillable. Even an honest to god angel couldn't bring it down. Why, she wondered, would anyone make such a thing. What was its purpose. You don't spent the kind of time it takes to make something like that and not have plans for it. This was her new concern. Game plan, we need a game plan.
The sounds burned into her memory, the gunfire, the constant screams, the wet crunch of many human parts, all seemed a little moe than the sharp packing sounds that come from punching a demon. She was used to violence, hell, she herself was a creature of it. She had even been to bad places, those dark and unrelenting places that seemed to swallow the unprepare. But not this wicked. Today was more vehement and harsh than anything else, the violence and death on the battlefield far more real. No matter how hard she tried, the slayer couldn't seem to separate te memories from her thoughts. Faith assumed that this was that tragic thing called shellshock.
However, one fearsome thought underscored all these other concerns, clawing at her heart with needle sharp talons. The way Robin's broken body had laid there in the scorched dirt before her, after the cavern, after Asylum. Faith considered herself, amoung other things, tough. At times, almost cold. That was needed to be a slayer, to do the things that they do. Some days, she felt as though she didn't have the time to mourn the victims of the monsters and bad guys. "I almost lost him," she whispered.
The door to Nigel's office opened, and Andrew and Robin walked out, their expressions grim.
"How are you?" asked Robin, seeing that Faith's mindset could not be far from his own. She shook her head and put on her finest false smile.
"Five- by- five. You?" He nodded.
"Been better." She looked at Andrew, "How's monkey-boy?" Andrew looked at her, and for the first time, his face was a blank book to her. This frightened her a bit. "What? What is it?"
"Well, I could really use a nice hot bath and a hot pocket." He lookd at Faith, seeing that she wasn't looking for that answer. "Oh, um...The machine is already a couple hundred miles away, it's in Pennsylvania right now." Andrew started, "Um, there has been quite a bit of destruction, but the government is keeping it very quiet. Their, uh, claiming that tectonic activity has caused a small moving tremor."
"Well that's a lame excuse," Faith said as she stood and stretched her legs. They started to walk towards the exit.
"And the watchers don't seem to have any records of something like this in their files," Wood began, "which, considering most of their records were blown up, they may not have it in their library anymore.
"No," she said.
"No what?" She turned and looked at him.
"He won't find anything in his books. This thing's new. I can feel it in my gut.
"Well then, what are you thinking?" he said, loving to whatch his girl's mind go into action. She was creative, he'd definitly give her that.
"I don't know... I hate being the decision maker. Well, I am gonna call Giles. I am thinking that in the morning we should give B a ring. We need some power behind us. I think we need to touch base with Red."
-
Asylum ran at high speeds, pulled towards the east by this new presence. It had already cut one hell of a swath through Cleveland Hieghts, tore through Cuyahoga County, trampled all in its path in Geauga county, eviscerated the massive concrete road blocks set up by Highway Patrol in Trumbull county, and was showing no signs of stopping. Fatigue would never rear its ugly head to such a being. Trying to figure what it was now suppose to be doing, it could only think to run. It footfalls smashed down with intense force, leaving deep indentions as it moved. A song, faint and sweet, played in its head. Asylum tried to shake the distracting tune from its head without avail. Now, the golem carried its pace through Potter county, Pennsylvania. A short distance ahead, it could see the township of Wharton. Lowering its head, it charged on.
-
"Well, that was a bust." Faith put the phone down a little harder than necessary. She tousled her died blonde hair. Every hair on her body was still standing on edge. Wood stood half undressed in the hotel room. The council was footing the bill, of course.
"What's that?" he asked, not actually needing an explaination.
"Giles. He's in Italy at B's place, something about a potential or something, they weren't very chatty on the subject."
"So, we'll just call in the morning." She didn't like that he was quite so calm. It bothered her that the thought of his dying bothered her more. As if reading her mind, he flashed her a disarming smile. "You know, this isn't the first time I've had a brush with death. I'm going to be just fine. You should let yourself relax a little. You are going to go gray overnight."
"And I'll bet that you run out and get yourself a younger model right away," she joked.
"Of course," he returned. Faith walked past him and punched his arm playfully. It still hurt, none the less.
"You'd better not be thinking about trading me in, Buster." She casually slid her hands around his waist, wrapping her arms around him to let him know that he didn't really have a choice.
"Why would I want to give you up, you've got personality." He returned the embrace, giving her backside a small squeeze.
"Whoa." She laughed a bit, releasing much of her tension. "Watch it mister... you're not as charming as you'd like to think you are."
"Oh yes I am," he said as he leaned in for a kiss.
-
"What do you think you are doing?!" Lofthre demanded of the now playing golem. Asylum looked up at him as though he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. All around him, the small town was in flames. He had first destroyed an old fashioned gas staion, one that you'd say had "character". The flames had erupted high into the sky, marking his presence to the US satalites. He crashed through many home, riling the tiny "people" inside. The police station was also in it's path. They had learned quickly that their bullets were not going to harm this thing. All around, people had cried out about aliens and terrorists and tanks.
Now, Lofthre had appeared before Asyum as it stopped to take the time to shred an empty yellow bus. Quickly the demon forced itself to calm and flashed it's razor grin at the "child". Asylum dropped the torn metal at its feet and turned to face was it regarded as its father. Looking, now, quite pitiful, for all its glory. Like he's in trouble, Lofthre thought to itself.
"You are suppose to head towards California, you, you... little child." The demon could barely contain its anger. He began to wonder what could have possessed the child to break the spells that guided its path. "Very well, come with me." Asylum knew that it would have to abandon its current "adventure" if it went back with Lofthre. Something in the machine wouldn't let it. It needed to the the person's face. Needed to know why he saw her. There was something foreign and yet very familiar about her. The golem tapped its hand to the back of it's neck, to another of the many runes. The silver frame flashed with light, which then rippled as the light bent around its body, becoming translucent. Finally it faded from sight. Lofthre threw out a long string of obsenities to the naught little boy. He then heard the giant footsteps crashing away at a train-like speed.
Asylum was honestly afraid of being in trouble as he sped along towards the coast.
 
Wow..I wasn't online for like a week and there were 3 new parts..Slow down or I'll get lost...seriously..I loved them all,you know me...There's nothing bad I could say bout your story🙂(ok,maybe it needs abit of naked Angel😉)
 
I will be setting this story on the back burner for a while as I have actually managed to hear back from a publishing company on my independant story. It definitly doesn't mean that I will be published... but it is the first steps in that direction. I would like to ask Bufy Summers and Faith to please keep my story safe from the trash bin... I will come back to finish it. :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv :dancecalv
 
I love the new parts! Asylum's disobeying his orders...

You probabaly will get published, your story is just as good as other books I've read.
 
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