The Wolf on the Shepher
“I don’t know. This dog groomer cover story is not one of Harlan’s better plans.”
“We had to install the camera somehow, and while I like Flatull when he’s regular, his slaver messes with the electronics. I just hope we can find a look-alike this late in the day. You think Carl is fall for it?”
“The one trait I like about him is he’s consistent. He won’t wait for us to parade Flatull around campus. He’ll have a few of his new pledges break into the kennel, drunk on fear and bravado, and do his dirty work. The camera will catch them in the act. Wormwood will offer the creeps one of his plea bargain specials, and Carl will be left holding the bag…hopefully the one with all of his stuff as he walks out into the sunset.”
“Wishful thinking, Orson. Best we can hope is get Gamma House back on double probation. That’ll screw up with their plans for a New Year’s Toga Fest.”
“Damn! I had an eye of this Teletubbies bed sheet for Harlan.’
Steve laughs. That would fit his whimsical sense of humor. He pets Flatull. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll get to see Willow again. If this works out, we can have her take you walkies for a month.”
One other consistency will come to play this day. One that will have dire effects on everyone involved. The consistency: Harlan’s plans always have one or more kinks. Long term planning and consequence assessment was never his strong points. Case in point, his brief tangle with Carl during his even brief stay as a Gamma. He had thrown Carl out of his frat room window not knowing that: a.) It was the frat president. b.) The drop was about two stories. And c.) Harlan’s window faced the frat’s swimming pool where, on that exact moment, a Gamma was being entertained by two members of the ladies swim team’s experiment in au naturel lesbian water sport…when Carl made his landing. Needless to say, this didn’t endeavor him to the frat brotherhood and he got kicked out soon after. Ad-lib was more his style and if he had known about Oz’s lycanthropy, he might have tried another plan. But…
As Orson and Steve review the plans for the night, Giles turns to Oz and Willow and says, “I believe we’ve just gotten a break.”
Thus the ball starts rolling…
Night and the full moon come. Buffy and Willow make ready for the party. It’s a mixture of calm, tension, and anticipation. The calm: Oz was safely locked away in the Mascot’s Cage with Giles making periodical checks to make sure he was all right. The anticipation: Their first real college party that didn’t involve demonic subjugation…at least until later when the exorcism was done with. The tension: Arch! The stress Willow’s experiencing comes to a head as she fusses over what make-up she should wear for him. Which perfume, which eyeshadow, which lipstick. She doesn’t want to be beautiful and give him the wrong idea, yet she doesn’t want to look too serious since she wants to have a good time. Buffy is beside herself. “Look, you’re gonna be his escort and exorcist. You’re not marrying the guy.” This rationalization doesn’t filter through. Willow still remembers the kiss he gave her and wonders if he wants to pursue a relationship beyond being friends. Buffy offers to seduce Arch after he’s freed of the demon, half-joking that she is due for a one-night stand and her lovelife really needs the shakedown. Willow answers by flinging a compact over her head. Things are very tense, indeed.
Arch finally comes calling…and Willow is still not ready. “Stall him.” She asks Buffy while she decides whether to wear a buttoned white blouse, a Crazy Eddie World Tour T-shirt, or something else. She rushes off to the bathroom. Buffy is at a loss. In a normal world, she would be the one fretting over Arch’s intentions while Willow would run interference. Of course, the normal world wouldn’t have vampires, werewolves, demons, and other paranormals either. So…she entertains him with small talk and snacks and root beer. Arch takes it in stride, since he is just as nervous as Willow over this ‘date’. He too is freaked out about the kiss and wants to apologize for being so forward. Of course, he’d like to apologize to both girls at the same time so he get it over with because his stomach is once again acting up…and waiting for Willow is not helping matters. ‘Things can’t get any worse.’ He thinks as Buffy tries engaging him into some more small talk about next week’s homework assignments.
He forgot about Murphy’s Law. And his beeper reminds him the hard way. The text message says it all:
URGENT! SNAFU! CALL NOW! HARLAN.
“Excuse me, Buffy. I have to make a call. Can I use the phone?” he asks. She agrees, anything to get out of this awkward situation. He reaches Harlan, just as Willow is ready finally. A simple outfit, really: sensible sneakers, white socks, blue jeans, a purple light weather sweater, and matching Hello Kitty button and hairpins. She isn’t dressed to kill, but at least she’s presentable for the informal mixer. Arch barely notices her as he has a frantic conservation. Mostly a lot of ‘What?’, ‘How did that happen?’, and one or two ‘Did you guys check the sensor web?’.
‘Not good vibes at all’ Willow thinks. ‘And that pained look on his face mean the demon’s gaining strength. I’m gonna have to hurry if…’
“Well, get down here and explain it to me, Harlan.” Arch’s exclamation breaks her train of thought. “Your signal is breaking up. Must be that new sound system Carl’s installed…’or the damn phones are too cheap’. Yeah, that happens when you don’t negotiate properly, bub. I’m at Buffy and Willow’s. The door will be open. We’re not going anywhere just yet.” He hangs up and looks at both girls, his pained expression more pronounced now. “Ah, guys…looks like our date will have to be canceled. Something’s came up and…” A sharp pain in his stomach makes him double over to his knees. He curses a blue streak as Buffy rushes to steady his descent while Willow rushes to mix a quick cocktail of herbal painkillers. Murphy’s Law is right on schedule.
Night and the full moon come and the vampires embrace it. The Mistress leads the way as always. There’s no rush. Plenty of fresh game abound for all, mostly late arrivals and rent-a-cops. “A few hors d’oeuvres will not spoil the evening.” She says to her subjects. “Once the Slayer is out in the open, we will have a ball.” She has already changed into her ‘game’ face as she spots a lonely lad hungry for company. Not for much longer, alas.
Arch is lying on the couch and on his third glass of special tonic when Harlan comes running in. “Major problem, hoss.” He pants. “I couldn’t find a substitute for Flatull to make the switch. None of the pet stores would even consider lending me a dog.”
“Great. So they’ve nabbed him.”
“Nope. He’s with Orson at the lab. We figure that’s the last place…”
“What?!?” Buffy bellows. “The hell is going on, Arch?”
Willow’s Wiggins Alert goes on overdrive. “Oh, God. Has something happen to Flatull?”
“No.” Harlan replies. “We’re trying to keep him safe, Will. Someone has…”
Xander comes running in now. “Hey! Bad news! Something’s happened to…oh, uh.” He notices Arch and Harlan and quickly switches gears. “I see you have company. I can come back.”
Willow is now three shades of white. Panic is seeping in like a shipwreck. “Not Oz.” She whispers…then starts to freak out. “Not Oz! Please don’t tell me something’s happened to him.”
“Huh?” Harlan looks puzzled. “They got him too?”
“Carl’s getting bolder this year.” Arch takes a quick swig from his glass. “Maybe he’s desperate enough to flirt with a Federal felony conviction to get us kicked out.”
Buffy waves her arms for quiet. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! Now, Xander, what happened to Oz?”
Xander is about to speak when Steve rushes in. “I’ve checked the sensor logs. They were two entries after we set up the equipment. I’m guessing Carl was Break-In Number Two, so…what’s this a convention?”
“They know about Flatull and the switch, Steve.” Harlan says. “Or rather the attempted switch.”
“Attempted? You mean…?”
Buffy shouts at both of them. “Hey! Someone already has the floor right now and I want to know…”
“Buffy!” Giles comes running in, worry and fear etched in his face. “I just came to check on Oz and…” He sees the crowd in the room. “Oh, dear. I sense a common thread here.”
Xander waves hello. “Welcome to The Oz-Flatull Worry Society. Drinks and Wiggins are being served.”
Harlan ignores the crack. He sees the strange brew in Arch’s glass. “God, I hope that’s bourbon you’re drinking, man, because I need to get drunk right now.”
“Willow’s underage.” Arch replies.
“Great time to start now.”
Buffy rolls her eyes and looks up at the ceiling in frustration. Straight answers are going to be hard to come by for the moment.
What happened to Oz is simple, to the point, and about as much as three frat pledges could handle from an egomaniac bent on revenge…or a Watcher and a Werewolf worried about harming innocents. Thirty minutes after the sensor web was installed and engaged, Giles and Oz go inside the kennel by a spare key obtained under false pretenses. A quick inspection of the cage follows and Oz walks in, stripped naked and his clothes in a pile on the side for Giles to take with him. A couple cans of beef stew and water are poured into a pair of plastic bowls. Oz is ready. Giles tells him he’ll be back in a few hours. “Once this was over, better and more private accommodations will be made.” He tells him as he closes the cage. “I promise this is only temporary.” Oz understands…before the moonlight overwhelms him and he is not himself anymore. Giles leaves the snarling beast alone and locks the door to the kennel…
…One hour later, the Gamma pledges arrive, with tranquilizer gun in tow. They too have a key, of the skeleton kind. They are also a bit tipsy, but not so drunk they can’t shoot straight. The aim isn’t textbook, but the dart makes its mark. Oz yelps but once, then falls into unconsciousness. Ten minutes later, the pledges carry off the sleeping werewolf, his limbs bounded by leather straps. To their knowledge, ‘Flatull’ will only be detained for a little while until Wormwood gets the call and the Science Boyz get nailed.
Carl has other plans. Murderous plans.
Of course, all this will be discovered in time. For the moment, the official word is it was Oz’s uncle’s dog that got nabbed. Seems he was dog sitting while his uncle was on vacation and the pooch is none too happy with the change of surroundings. In fact, he may have to be tranquilized before he bites someone. Oz is halfway to his uncle’s home to get a carrying cage. He’ll move the mutt to a nearby kennel. He really didn’t want the hound to be left in the care of strangers, but now…
The ruse seems to work. Since Carl and The Gammas have kidnapped the ‘dog’, the Boyz decide to join on the rescue party. After all, it’s their mess too. The kids break into teams: Harlan, Giles, and Buffy will go to the lab to retrieve Orson and some spare tranquilizer guns (where they have been kept ever since a frat party ten years ago brought over a drunken cougar for entertainment and…things had went out of control.) Xander and Steve are off to the storage shed where a specialized flame-thrower containing liquid nitrogen is kept ‘for special break-ins like this’ as Harlan coins it. Willow and Oz will wait in the park to rendezvous with the others and go to the Party at Gamma House to keep the appearance that all’s well. Since Harlan’s the only one with detailed knowledge about the House, the break-in will have wait until it’s at a fever pitch and no one will notice a bunch of kids carrying off a drugged dog from the cellar door. Since it’s Science Boyz policy to carry a beeper and cell phone, they will be the contacts. Anything happens…’We go on red alert.” Steve says, his stern face marks the mood. Willow makes one more round of stomach medicine for Arch before they set off on the mission. While he’s drinking, she packs an assortment of materials for the exorcism since dealing with the Gammas will be the least of their problems.
Even with the merriment of the various Houses, the campus park grounds are a silent, almost deathly place. The festive lighting does little to lighten the crypt-like atmosphere. Arch keeps a brave face for his sake and Willow…even though she has been in worse places in her life. The quiet mood and the mission aren’t the only things troubling him. The stomach pains are getting worse by the minute, in spite of all of Willow’s efforts. And then, of course, there’s the other matter…
“Will, now that we’re alone, there’s something I’ve got to get off my chest. I gotta ask ya…”
She raises her eyebrow. “Is it about that kiss you gave me and Buffy this afternoon?”
He becomes even queasier. She moves fast. “Ah, yeah…look, I was…a little giddy when you asked me to…or was it me…”
“You asked me.” She laughs, glad for the diversion from her worries for Oz and what he was experiencing at the moment. He may be in wolven form, but he still had feelings…of a sort. “I’m guessing you haven’t had many dates with women.”
“That’s an understatement.” They both stop walking. “Look, you said you had a secret. Well, so do I. How about we be straight with each other? You deserve that after what happened with Oz’s dog and the kiss and everything else.”
Willow folds her arms. “All right. Seems fair to me. You go first.”
Arch licks his lips. He’s sweating bullets and the pain isn’t helping. “I…never had much experience with women…not just with dating, but in general…in fact…I’m…still a virgin. And I never had…a girlfriend in some sense of the word…and the time we’ve spent together with the touring and treating my stomach and…that time with the body paints…well, I’ve developed a certain attraction to you and I know you and Oz are close and I don’t want to cause you two any grief or hurt you because you’re a nice girl and there’s…someone here that I kinda like a lot and I’m probably transferring my feelings about her to you and that’s not right and…I’m being a real big fool, aren’t I?”
Willow smiles. Not in mocking, not in ridicule, but in understanding. After all, she felt these same emotions herself once upon a time. She holds his hand. “It’s okay, really. You’re being honest with me about this and…I’m flattered in a way. Can I ask who’s the lucky girl?”
“Ah, she’s on the soccer team. She was one of the girls who helped clean me up during that chemical accident I was in. I told ya about that, remember?”
She blushes. “Oh, yeah. I remember now. Strange way to meet true love, but Oz saw me in my Eskimo outfit a couple years ago and he fell for me then and there. I do hope you two finally click the same way he and I…” Her thoughts trail off.
Arch looks at her with concern…and a little dread. “You okay? I know I said a lot and maybe too much about myself and what I feel about ya, but…”
Willow puts her finger on his mouth to shush him. “Shhhh. It’s my turn. What I’m about to tell you, I must have your complete trust. I mean it, Arch.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s best I show you.” She reaches out to him. “Take my hands and close your eyes.”
Arch hesitates. He’s been the butt of many pranks and he doesn’t want to fall for this old gag, even if it’s someone he has strong feelings for. But Willow is insistent, her eyes aflame with a hypnotic charm. Within her very being is a calm he had hungered for almost all his life. How could he refuse? How dare he refuse? He swallows his fear, takes her hands, and closes his eyes. He listens to her whispering a chant. He feels a gentle breeze on the back of his neck. He notices a slight lifting and wonders for a moment if someone was behind him, but then realizes he would’ve noticed the presence already. He keeps his eyes closed and listens to the chant. The incantation lasts for a few minutes, then…silence. Arch once again wonders if he’s being played for a fool. Willow dispels this fear instantly. “Okay. You can open your eyes now.”
Arch’s eyes open and focuses on Willow. She is smiling at him. Her clothes are still on. There is no one with cameras or water pistols or smelly garbage or other such nonsense. He doesn’t have egg in his hair, Silly String on his shirt, or feces on his pants. Everything seems to be normal…
…Except they are now floating about twenty feet off the ground!
Arch looks down, and starts praying to a Prophet he hasn’t even bothered talking to since he was eleven. Willow sympathizes with his plight. First time she tried floating herself, she damn near ran into a tree. His stomach makes the familiar grumbles of distress and panic. Again, she sympathizes. Even without the uninvited ‘guest’, his insides are having one hell of a time dealing with this. But when he tries to let go, she freaks. “No, no, no! Don’t break the link. Never break the link! I can’t float us both if you let go. Messes with my concentration.”
“No kidding.” Arch’s voice is small. He feels very small right now.
Willow sees him becoming gray and ready to throw up. She tells him to hold on and they float slowly back down to the park. His feet firmly on the ground, Arch staggers to a nearby bench. She follows him, concerned that her little demonstration has done more harm than good. She couldn’t float a pencil or a pebble or even a car (if she had the strength, that is.) He’d dismiss it as illusion and mention something about Copperfield, the old fraud. Better she had floated the both of them before she made her confession. She sees him breathing deep and hard, like he had just finished a marathon chase from a herd of rhino. His color is returning, but not as fast as she likes. And his wits…well, she’d better start filling in the blanks starting now.
“Well…I think I may have overdone it a bit. I’m sorry, Arch.”
“A bit?!? We were…in the air! Ten or twenty feet, I’m thinking!”
“Close enough. My personal limit is about fifty feet. I don’t dare go any higher. Atmosphere’s does get a tad thin and air traffic control tends to get…nervous about unidentified floating objects. Even when it’s only a girl.”
Arch giggles the nervous laugh from his childhood when monsters lived under his bed. “So…you’re a ‘teep’.”
“ ‘Teep’?”
“Telepath. Babylon 5 jargon. Well, you’d be more of a ‘teek’. Telekinetic.”
Willow blushes at the compliment, but shakes her head. Another common bond between them. She decides to cruise about his collection of books and tapes if they ever live through this. Perhaps he had the entire collection of THE SURVIVORS or THE MOON STALLION. “Well, I’m not a ‘teek’. I’m flattered that you called me though. No, I’m a Wicca. Witch in the Old World jargon.”
“That would explain much.”
Willow moves closer to Arch. Once again, she’s holding his hand. “You have no idea, dear boy. Wanna know how I got into magic? It started about four years ago when Buffy came to my hometown of Sunnydale…”
And while Willow is giving a brief history of vampires, Slayer, and such…the others are having some revelations of their own:
Xander and Steve have a run-in with the frat vampires, eager for mayhem and remembering what happened at the pub before their transformation. Xander manages to hold them off…for a minute. Steve accidentally sprays liquid nitrogen on the thugs and they disintegrate. Way too fast for normal LIVING beings who get bathed in ultra-cold. He starts to freak out when his beeper goes off. Message from Arch. And it’s urgent!
Harlan, Buffy, and Giles have a run-in with some vampires too. The minute Buffy ‘dusts’ one of them, Harlan starts to panic…and having someone try to kill him doesn’t help matters. Luckily his self-defense training keeps him from ‘coming across’. After the battle, his beeper goes off. Messages from Arch and Orson. Extremely urgent!
Orson is reviewing the surveillance tape from the kennel for the fifth time. He didn’t believe it the first time, but now after careful review he’s starting to have doubts about Oz and Giles…and maybe the rest of the Scooby Gang too. He sees Oz stripping down. He sees Giles locking the cage. He sees the boy becoming a werewolf and the Gammas nabbing him afterwards. Orson just sits there for a minute or two, glancing at Flatull as he’s sleeping on the blanket at the corner of the lab. He decides to send a message to his fellow Science Boyz. Time to start getting some truth from the Old Man even if it means scrapping a few good years of friendship. After he does it, Orson receives a message from Arch on his beeper. It reads:
MAJOR ALERT! WILLOW NOT WHAT SHE SEEMS! GILES
NOT WHAT HE SEEMS! OZ NOT WHAT HE IS! BRING
BIG BOOK!!! NOW!!!
Orson lets out a curse of all curses and scrambles to get the Big Book and runs into Buffy and the guys who are still a little flustered over their run-in with the vamps. Harlan ask about the message on the beeper:
WE GOT PROBLEMS! CARL GOT OZ AND OZ IS WEREWOLF!
NEED TO TALK RIGHT NOW! GET GILES AND REST! THEY
HAVE TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING!
Orson looks at Giles and tells him about Arch’s message and the tape. Answers do not come easy. Answers that Arch must listen to as well…
Willow finishes her tales of the undead and her dealings with the paranormal to Arch. She doesn’t mention about his ‘illness’ or the demon within his body just yet. She figures if she tells him everything all at once, he just might lapse into a catatonic state. But…he stays cool. Just before he sends a message to Orson and the guys. Just before he receives the message from Orson. And just before he makes the call to the fellows to rendezvous at the park. Then…he faints dead to the world.
This Rapture Night is going to be a blast indeed.
Arch regains consciousness in stages. The first thing he sees is Willow and Giles fussing over him. He thinks it was all of a dream and he fainted at the girls’ doorway after reciting that passage about Persephone…until the stomach pains, the night air, and his memories of his short flight remind him it’s the real world. He’s been out for about a few minutes, enough time for Willow and the others to re-cap what happened to each other and just who is who.
The reaction from the Boyz is…predictable and somewhat understandable.
Steve now knows why Oz had an issue about Wolfman Jack.
Harlan starts ranting. About the Dark Moor. About how he was right about Buffy and ‘Her Coven Of The Unfun.’ About bitching in general.
Orson is more sedate, more poised, more angry at just one person.
“Rupert! Why didn’t you say something about this?” He points at the Scooby Gang. “We were-are friends. We have history together. We talked about things and our lives and you had never mentioned even once about you being this…’Watcher’. How the hell can I look at you now and respect your word when you’ve kept something this big to yourself?”
“And if I had told you, Orson?” Giles stands there, somber and quiet. Feeling more alone now than even the time he kept Buffy in the dark about the Slayer Rite of Passage. This isn’t a person he almost considers family. Orson is a colleague of sorts. Someone whom he respected for his intellect, his trust, his honor. And now, it may all come to an end. “What would you do? Laugh at me? Call me a crackpot? Have me committed? I’m involved in a war for mankind, for the souls of untold billions. I can’t just tell everyone I have an acquaintanceship with every detail of my life.”
“Funny. I thought I was a part of your life.”
“Giles,” Arch says, trying to get up from the bench. He’s weak as a newborn kitten. Willow and Harlan give him some support to keep him from falling. “The minute you came here with your friends and this stuff started happening, We became involved. Like it or not, we’re up to our eyes in this mess.” He then looks at Willow, his face sweating. His skin pale like raw dough, but the eyes still glimmer with life. “And I have this bad feeling Oz isn’t the only one with a supernatural aliment.”
Willow backs away from Arch, in shame and regret. She feels very small as she sit down on the bench. “You have a demon within you, Arch. And it’s growing. Feeding off you like a tapeworm, only this one has teeth like you can never imagine. It has to be removed by tonight…or you might die.” Her eyes mist up, sorrow and hopelessness mix like a poison and sicken her soul. “There’s a good chance your soul will suffer…painfully. And the demon will use this as subsistence, dinner, midnight snack, whatever you’ll like to call it. The beast will then mature and rampage. And everyone it comes to contact with will be…killed.”
A tear flows down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Arch. I should’ve said something before when we first met. I mean…you deserved better than to be kept in the dark…I know this is…Oh, God!” She covers her face and continues to weep for her friend and perhaps for herself.
Harlan for once is speechless. Steve is not. “You mean that business with you dancing naked and wearing body paint and the potions and the tea was…?”
“To rid Arch of the demon, yes.” Giles explains. “The paint was a repellent against demonic attack. The symbols he drew on Willow were to protect her from possession. The tea and the potions were to help stunt its growth and perhaps weaken it so much, it wouldn’t have enough strength to find another host once it was expelled and it would die. The massage oil had a powder that was to restrain Arch in case the demon tried to use his body as a last resort defense. And the acupuncture was to have lulled his body to a relaxed state while Willow chanted the exorcism spell and remove it without causing harm. It was a thorough plan. But obviously, it had other ideas.”
“No kidding, buddy.” Harlan snorts. He glares at Willow. “Your little chants and tonics didn’t take, Tabitha. You have some mojo to keep us from becoming Devil’s Kibble?” He’s embittered by the subterfuge, of being powerless to help his oldest and dearest friend, of having to know the truth and finding out he may not live long enough to enjoy his victory.
Willow jumps out of her seat and moves right into Harlan’s face. Her eyes ablaze, her pulse quickened, her honor insulted. “And what makes you think you could’ve done better, eh? Put him under a body scanner and play ‘hunt and peck’. Or use chemotherapy and pray the only thing he loses is some hair? Or just cut him up and watch him die on the operating table while the demon rips open the surgeon’s throat? I may be a follower of Wicca, buddy, but I believe in science first. And there are sometimes when magic is the only way to save an innocent. Even if that doesn’t fit some people’s ideas of good medical advice.” She almost attacks him right there but Xander and Buffy hold her back.
“Will, chill.” Xander says. “He’s only upset…and his usual anal self.”
Harlan decides to kick his ass, but Steve and Orson keep him keep. Giles is frustrated by the lack of cooperation; cooperation he thought was already set in stone. “Stop this, all of you! This bickering is pointless. Oz could very well be out and about, searching for prey. I have the feeling Carl doesn’t know what he has under his…protection.”
Arch shakes his head. “Not if I know his twisted mind. What he has planned isn’t just shaving the hair off of Oz’s ass and dying his fur blue.” He pulls out the forged note that would’ve been used by the Gammas to implicate the Boyz. Willow takes it, read the contents, and goes into shock! “Oh my god!” Her face ashens. “Buffy. Look at this. It’s…horrible.”
She takes the note, with Xander looking over her shoulder. He says, “You’re right, Will. It is horrible. This guy’s penmanship sucks.” Willow gives him the darkest dirty look in his life, rivaling even the ones given to him by Anya when they broke up and the Dark Willow during her brief but chaotic stay.
Buffy just ignores his tasteless joke. She’s too busy turning pale herself. She hands the note over to Giles and asks Arch, “Are you sure he’s gonna do this?”
He just nods too sickened for words. Harlan is too sickened for silence. “Oh, that jerk is very capable, not to mention creative. He’s gonna re-enact the true origin of the Rapture Nights tonight and pin everything on us. Just to give us expel, he’d re-enact the Kennedy Assassination if it was possible.”
He gives the details on the legend. On the 10th anniversary of The Union’s victory in The Civil War, a group of veterans decided to celebrate one particular incident during their tour…the time they were interned in a Confederate POW Camp and that moment of hunger and madness when they’d cannibalized one of their own a week before the surrender at Appomattox. The soldiers didn’t speak a word about it to their superiors and the whole matter was chalked up as another Rebel war crime. The survivors had rented the saloon for the whole night. The height of the celebration was a gruesome sight to begin with. The murdered man once said he was going to eat a whole bear when he was to be paroled. His comrades, riddled with guilt, decided to have a feast of roasted grizzly bear in his memory. It took an oven the size of a prairie schooner to cook the beast to perfection. The waiters wheeled in the dinner and the veterans locked the place up.
“Next day,” he continues. “There was a ripe and rotting smell coming from the place. Townspeople broke down the door and what they saw made their blood run cold! The whole party…slaughtered! Even the cooks, the waiters, the barkeep, and the whores were chopped to pieces. Body parts were everywhere, literally! Some of the heads were staked on the banister. Severed hands were used as lanterns and teeth were piled up as poker chips. One guy was crucified and hung from the candle chandelier, with melting wax and blood still dripping from the corpse. There was some writing on the bar mirror. ‘I’m off to meet Rapture.’ “
“And the bear?” Willow asks, grimacing over the details.
“They found the skin on one of the beds and the bones were…polished clean. In fact, the legs and some of the larger ribs were sharpened into stakes and used against a few revelers. But there was no sign of the meat…or the head.”
Giles rubs his temples in utter shock. “God! Why didn’t I find this in the campus archives?”
“Well, for one thing, Wormwood and the alumni don’t like the school’s dirty laundry to be so public. Those records are sealed in a special section in the basement. Only a few people have official access and…” Harlan pulls out a key. “Some of us aren’t suppose to have it.”
Orson adds, “Also, most people just wouldn’t believe it had ever happened. The place got burned down a week after they’d cleared out the bodies. The town figured if had bad mojo and decided to clean house before something else showed up. A decade later, this college was founded and the phrase ‘Rapture Nights’ was coined to describe the frat parties.”
“So what does all that have to do with Carl kidnapping Oz?” Xander asks.
“Guess what was built on the site of the former ‘Rapture Night Saloon’.” Arch replies. A chilly silence falls upon the group. Gamma House!
“Carl’s astute in his local folklore.” Giles sighs.
“And his Machiavelli is just as smooth too.” Buffy grunts. “He knows the only person with an interest in the history of the University of California-Sunnydale, AKA Dark Moor College, is Harlan. I’m guessing the plan was to kidnap Flatull, kill and skin him, serve up Puppy Pate to the pledges and leave some incriminating evidence to get you guys expelled.”
“You mean all of us.” Steve says.
“What?”
“The note mentions you, Willow, Oz and Xander as accomplices. There would have been some doubt if Oz hadn’t ‘wolfed out’ on ya, but with him missing…Wormwood and the Student Council…”
“…Will think he’d bolted from campus at the last minute riddled with guilt, thus proving out guilt. Great.”
Xander shakes his head. “And somehow the irony will escape Carl. That he had Oz instead Flatull all that time.”
Harlan goes purple with rage. “Hey, how do you think we feel, meathead? We made a deal with Wormwood to keep you all out of trouble until tomorrow. We’re gonna get kicked out over your lousy choice of kennels.”
Orson counters, “Harlan, you moron! We could be going to jail for animal cruelty. Carl’s fixed this so we can’t get a job as toilet attendants once the news breaks. It’s the gift that keeps on giving grief.”
“Well then, “ Arch says. “We’ll just have to stop him, won’t we?” His face, though sweaty and fevered, glows with a defiant light. He stares into Orson’s eyes. He knows what his friend is implying.”
“The Big Book?”
“Now’s a good time as any.” He smiles.
“The Big Book?” Willow raises an eyebrow.
“You’ll see.”
Orson pulls out a small handbook from his back pocket. “Buffy, Willow, Xander. Please stand side by side. Arch, since this is your idea, you’ll stand in for Oz. Feel up to it?”
Arch walks toward the three and stands by Xander. “I’ve been worse. Let’s do it.”
“Right. Raise your right hand.”
The kids look at each other in confusion and then glance at Arch. “Don’t worry. Just follow my lead.” He raises his right hand. They do the same.
Orson opens the book and turns the pages to a particular passage. “Repeat after me, please. I, state your name…”
The Gang does, a jumble of names and sounds.
“…Do hereby swear you’ll faithfully uphold the honor, integrity, and respect of the fraternity of The Science Boyz…”
Again, jumbled words. More uniformed this time.
“…To obey the requests and commands of your fellow frat brothers…and sisters; but to always follow your conscience, your heart, and your better judgment for those you must answer to in the end…”
More words. Xander’s face suddenly lights up. He realizes what is going on now.
“…To never forget that you have family among your frat brethren and yet, you are an individual who don’t have to take any nonsense from anyone…”
The words are more confident now. Buffy and Willow look at each other and beam pride. Now they are Sisters…of a sort. Steve whispers to Orson, “You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t ya?”
Orson shoos the wise guy away. He finishes the pledge. “…And always remember you will have shelter and sanctuary with us, your fraternal brothers and sisters, The Science Boyz.” He closes the book and looks at the new recruits and Arch. “Congratulations, guys. You’re now a part of our fraternity. Sorry we don’t have a symbol to call ourselves, but then again I’m not a big fan of Ancient Greek. Rupert, I hope you’ll accept the post of advisor. It’s only a ceremonial gig, but…”
Giles shakes his hand. “Considered it filled.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Xander raises his hand. “Ain’t there like an initiation thing we have to go through? You know, to prove ourselves.”
“You want a test of your manhood, boy?” Harlan answers. “Okay. You’re gonna break into Gamma House, save your bro Oz, help exorcise Arch’s demon, and then make me a grilled cheese sandwich without the crusts. Is that enough of a challenge or do you want to do all that while carrying buckets of mud over your shoulders?”
“Cut the comedy, Harlan.” Orson growls. “Some of us don’t have the stomach for your funning right now.”
“Bad pun, Orson.” Steve shakes his head, smiling.
“Sorry. But it’s been a trying day and it’s gonna look like a trying night.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Buffy asks. “Since when did frats go co-ed?”
“Since we decided to admit Wiccans, werewolves, Slayers, Watchers, and…” Orson looks at Xander. “What’s your special purpose, bub?”
Xander smiles, feeling cocky about being a frat brother now. “I’m the Key Guy.”
Harlan rolls his eyes in dismay, “Oh, great. He’s the ‘gofer’.”
“Anyway, this is all Arch’s idea.” Orson continues. “He figured if we’re gonna get expelled, might as well be with family and friends. And since you were under our Shepherding…”
Willow looks at Arch. He just shrugs it off. “Seemed to be a good idea at the time. Maybe it still is.”
“Well, considering how things are turning out right now, the more the merrier.” Buffy agrees as she grabs a tranq gun from Harlan. “Let’s go party-crashing, people.”
“Bad clichés, Buff.” Xander shakes his head.
She eyes him, pointing her new toy at his rear. “You want to sleep this one out, smart ass?”
Everyone has a brief laugh before it’s off to Gamma House and some whoop-ass! Things are looking up…
Or so it seems. A couple of vampires were tailing the kids, waiting to give word to their Mistress on when it would be the time to strike. Now the little group is getting organized, the vamps are suddenly nervous. The Mistress must be informed, or this gig will be for naught.
Even by Gamma House standards, this is a BIIIIIG party! Wall to wall people, some of them pledges to the House while other just party cruisers from other frats and sororities. Plenty of food and drink, anything from fruit punch (unspiked for those designated drivers) to the standard beer from the tap to the hard liquor for those adventurous souls. There is even the hint of pot in the air, though not enough to concern the police (officially anyway). This party is almost Caligulan in nature, making Mardi Gras look like a tomb. Hell, the party is so big, the Gammas had to drain the pool beforehand just to make room for a dance floor.
Our heroes are off to the side, away from curious eyes. Xander’s tempted to go inside and raise some hell, but Steve holds him back. “So what’s the plan?”
On to Part IV
