CLI-CLICK
bbuuuuuzzzzzzzz
BEE - BEE - BOOP
BEE - BEE - BOOP
BEE - BOOP - BEE - BOOP
brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg
brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg
brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg
brrrrriiiii-
DAWN SUMMERS: Hello?
RILEY FINN: Hey Dawn. It's Riley. Is Buffy there?
DAWN SUMMERS: Oh, hi Riley. Yes, she's here. Hold on and I'll get
her. Okay?
RILEY FINN: Sure kiddo. I'll wait.
//bang// //clunk//
DAWN SUMMERS: *BUFFY!!! RILEY'S ON THE PHOO-ONNNE!!!*
//click// //thunk//
BUFFY SUMMERS: Riley?
RILEY FINN: Hey beautiful. I was just calling to see what you wanted
to do this Halloween. Um... 'cause I just saw a flyer down at the
Student Union about a costume party being thrown by the Delta Gamma
House and I thought... You know, that we could, uh, sort of go. Could
be fun.
BUFFY SUMMERS: Oh! Uh... *Costume* party? Halloween? Um... okay. This
is going to sound *very* weird and all, but... the Scooby Gang
doesn't *do* Halloween anymore. *Way* too many bad memories. Way way
too many. Halloween is *so* not of the good.
RILEY FINN: //snort-sigh// Let me guess. Vampires, right?
BUFFY SUMMERS: Actually... no. Halloween is pretty much a no-go on
the Vampire front. It's like... um, *un*cool for them to hang out on
that night for some bizarre reason. Spike could probably explain it
to you.
RILEY FINN: Uh, *no* thank you. I'll just take *your* word for it. I
know that you all think of him as just Spike, but *I* still think of
him as Hostile 17, so... *no*. I won't go over to his crypt and chat
about his social calendar.
BUFFY SUMMERS: //laughs// I can't really blame you for that. *I*
don't like spending time with him either, even if he *is* just Spike
to me.
RILEY FINN: So... if it's not the vampires, what's so bad about
Halloween?
BUFFY SUMMERS: In theory? Nothing. In practice? Everything. It's just
that every time we've tried to celebrate Halloween, something
*horrible* happens. One year a group of fraternity brothers summoned
a Fear Demon by accident and ended up traumatizing half of campus.
Oh, and my personal nightmare, was when we were still back in
Highschool, this Warlock cast a spell that made you become the person
or thing that was your costume. It was... the worst. I was dressed up
like a noble woman from the 18th century and I lost my Slayer powers.
Spike could also tell you about that night. He tried to attack me and
I didn't even *remember* who I was or even what vampires were. If it
wasn't for Xander, I don't know *what* would have happened.
RILEY FINN: *Xander*? Are we talking about the same guy here? I mean,
I *like* him and all. He's fun to joke around with and he's always
wiling to go up against the bad guys, but... he isn't someone I'd
trust to... um, *save* me or anything.
BUFFY SUMMERS: No, no. He was great that night. His costume was a
soldier and he had a gun and when the spell hit, he was real kick ass
and all. Very shoot 'em up and take 'em out.
RILEY FINN: Wow. That's... that's just *wow*.
BUFFY SUMMERS: Yeah, I know. He says he can still sort of remember
it. You know, what it was like to be a soldier. But it's fuzzy, like
a dream. And the memories are only clear every now and then. I
believe him too, because that's how it is with me and my inner noble
woman. It's like, every now and then, I'll see something or hear
something and it'll trigger a memory buried deep in my head about
that time period. Weird, huh?
RILEY FINN: *Very* weird, but... this *is* Sunnydale, so... Okay. No
Halloween party. What would you rather do that night then?
*
A pale skinned communications specialist wearing a crisp uniform
turned an excited grin on his companion. The blinking lights on the
console in front of him reflected off the lenses of his glasses,
hiding the gleam in his green eyes.
"Lieutenant?"
"Yes Corporal? What is it?"
"Sir. You might want to come listen to this recording of phone line
#FINN2230-S. We have audio confirmation that the being called 'Spike'
is in fact Hostile 17, plus it appears that one of the Slayer's
research assistants is harboring the memories or spirit of some form
of Hostile they refer to as 'The Soldier'."
Lieutenant Graham Miller raised one eyebrow up in extreme interest
and walked over to the communications equipment. Leaning down a bit
so as to be closer to the speaker, he gestured for his officer to
replay the recording.
"Let's hear what Riley and Buffy are up to now..."
*
Pain.
Throbbing blinding pain.
He moaned at the horrendous sensation of having a brain three times
too big for his skull, but the noise only served to make his head
throb harder and a wave of nausea swept over him, leaving him
trembling. He lay there on the cold hard floor and just concentrated
on breathing and not throwing up.
After an unknown amount of time, the throbbing and pounding inside of
his skull diminished and thought once again became possible. He knew
he was Xander Harris. He knew he was lying naked on the cold hard
floor. He knew he was in trouble and that he had a possible skull
fracture. He just didn't know *how* he got this way. The last thing
he remembered was... walking home.
Yes. He had been walking home from Anya's. It had been getting on
towards dark and he'd had the creepiest sensation of being *watched*.
He had shrugged it off since it was still too light for any vampires
to be out and about. Even the older and stronger vampires like Spike
couldn't have survived in the amount of light that was still left in
the sky. So... he'd ignored the feeling and brushed it off as
Hellmouth induced paranoia.
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.
Well, time to find out just *how* bad bad really was.
Slowly, mindful of the headache he was still nursing, Xander peeled
back one eye and winced. Bright shiny white bounced florescent light
into his brain by way of his eye. Squinting, Xander tried to make out
what the white was. After a moment, he realized that it was the floor
he was laying on. Shifting slightly, he lifted his head.
White floor. Three white walls. White ceiling. One glass wall. It
seemed... familiar. He couldn't quite place it though.
Shifting a little more, Xander was able to roll over onto his side so
that he was facing the glass wall. Beyond the thick glass was a plain
white hallway. On the other side of the hallway was another glass
fronted bright white cell. Inside of the cell was... Spike.
A naked Spike.
A naked Spike who was cowering in the corner, whimpering and cringing
in full gameface with blood tinged pink tears dripping down his face.
Moving in slow motion, they both turned their heads slightly until
they made full eye contact. Brown eyes held confusion and gold eyes
held nothing but stark terror. Then recognition hit Xander like a
stake in the heart.
OH FUCK!!!!! THEY WERE AT THE INITIATIVE!!!!!!
Leaping to his feet, Xander ran across his small cell and reached out
to touch the glass, desperately hoping to find a lock release. As
soon as his flesh came into contact with the smooth surface, a large
jolt of electricity slammed into his hands and up his arms. Sizzling
pain made him cry out even as he was tossed like a rag-doll across
his cell to crash into the far wall.
That action seemed to pull Spike out of his mindless fear, but he
didn't move an inch. He just spoke in a broken and shaky voice that
scared Xander more than any cell or electrical field ever could.
Anything that could reduce William the Bloody to gibbering panic was
so far beyond bad as to need a whole new definition for the word.
"No, no. Don't... don't *touch* it. It'll bite you. Don't touch *any*
thing here. Don't let them ta... take you to th.. the *grey* r...
room. And don't dr... drink the blood. It's *drugged* and it'll fall
from the ceiling and you'll be *so* hungry, but... but don't. We have
t... to get *out* of here."
It was at that point that Spike began loosing it again. He wrapped
his long pale arms around his knees and began to rock back and forth.
His golden eyes stayed locked on Xander's, but he wasn't sure if the
vampire was actually focused on him or his own tortured memories.
"Have to get *out*. Have to get *out*. Have to get *out*. Have to get
*out*."
Xander felt panic grip him as he watched the blonde in the cell
across from him continue to rock and repeat his whispered mantra over
and over and over again. It was chilling in a way that nothing else
in his life had ever been before. Even *Angelus* hadn't scared him as
badly as Spike's mental breakdown was doing. But even *that* display
of fear induced insanity hadn't prepared him to witness the raw
unthinking animal terror that Spike leapt into when a couple of white
lab-coat wearing scientists and a double handful of armed soldiers
entered the hallway.
Spike jumped to his feet and pushed himself as far back into the
corner as he could physically go, cringing and whining as his head
snapped around wildly as if he were looking for an escape route to
appear before his eyes. When the first Initiative Member came into
his line of sight, the vampire let out an ungodly wail of
overwhelming fright and turned to face the wall. He then began to
frantically scramble at the smooth ceramic surface as if he was
trying to scurry up towards the ceiling or perhaps to simply *claw*
his way through the solid and impenetrable barrier.
But it wasn't the vampire they were coming for. With horror swirling
in his mind and bile rising in his throat, Xander watched as the
glass wall to *his* cell slid to the side. The soldiers were standing
in a half circle around the opening to his cell and they were
pointing lots of large caliber pistols at him. All but one. He was
pointing an oddly shaped rifle.
The soldier holding the rifle fired. A sharp piercing pain in his
chest made Xander flinch back against the far wall. He glanced down,
expecting to see a bleeding bullet hole. Instead, he saw a red tipped
dart imbedded in his skin.
A wave of wooziness washed over him and his vision began to blur.
With a shaking hand, he reached up and plucked the tiny dart out of
his skin and dropped it from quickly numbing fingers. Another wave of
vertigo crashed into him and he heard voices but they sounded funny,
as if he was underwater. Then it felt as if he were falling and
falling and falling and he kept waiting to hit the ground but before
he could, everything went black.
The muzziness in his head slowly drifted away and he became aware of
two things. He was laying on his back on a cold stone surface and
there were odd little noises coming from just beyond his head. Xander
blinked his eyes open and found himself in a dimly lit room. The fact
that his vision was still a bit blurry didn't help him figure out
where he was and his muscles all felt stiff and his head still hurt.
He groaned.
The soft noises behind him stopped suddenly at the sound and Xander
tried to sit up. That didn't work and it took him a few groggy
seconds to figure out that it was because he was strapped down. He
was suddenly wide awake and panic was beginning to flair up inside of
his chest when a drawn and haggard face leaned over him. He flinched
away from the glaringly insane gleam in the haunted eyes that had
sunken into what was once probably a handsome face.
With overwhelming horror, Xander realized that he *knew* this man. He
looked very different from the self-assured and arrogant Warlock that
he remembered, but after a moment of staring into his eyes, Xander
was absolutely *positive* that this shell of a man was the long lost
Ethan Rayne from Giles's past. In desperation, he tried to talk past
his dry and swollen tongue.
"Gi... Giles."
Ethan's eyes opened up comically wide and his thin lipped mouth
formed a perfect 'O'. The crazy Warlock clutched at his bare shoulder
painfully and leaned down to hiss into his ear.
"Ripper? You know Ripper?"
Xander nodded as best he could with his head strapped to the stone
table or slab or whatever it was he had been placed on.
"Giles... Sun... Sunny... dale. Sla... Slay... er."
Recognition flickered across Ethan's face to be swiftly followed by
great joy, then deep sadness and then a crafty sly look that was
frightening and creepy.
"You're that Harris boy that Ripper has fighting off the demons and
such alongside his precious Slayer, yes? Well... you're a prisoner of
the bloody American government now. They want me to cast a spell on
you boy. Bring out the soldier in you like I did that Halloween. But
we'll play a little joke on them, won't we boy. For Ripper. He'll
*love* it, he will. Ripper always *did* like his demons. Great at
summoning them too. Taught me all I know..."
Xander felt his eyes go wide in abject horror. He knew from assorted
strained talks with Giles that Ethan Rayne was a Master level Warlock
who practiced the Black Arts and worshiped the Gods of Chaos. He had
been Giles's first student and long time lover. Together, as young
men, they had routinely summoned demons and then slaughtered them for
fun. Now, after years of incarceration, and who knows *how* much
torture by the Initiative, Ethan was planning on using *him*, one of
Giles's most recent students, to get his revenge.
"no, no... Ethan, *please* no..."
A long bony finger rested upon his lips, stilling them.
"Shhh.... *trust* me..."
And then he was gone out of Xander's line of vision. He struggled
against the leather straps that held him down, but to no avail. He
was trapped on the alter to a God of Chaos and at the mercy of an
insane Warlock. Xander felt his eyes tear up and he wondered just
*what* it was Ethan planned to do to him. He could hear him moving
around, setting things up, but that wouldn't last too long. Once
more, he tried to find a way out of his bonds. Twisting his hands
around until the strap pulled painfully tight against his left wrist,
Xander could just brush the tip of his middle finger along the smooth
cold surface of a metal buckle. Frantically, he began to try and work
it loose.
Too late! He could hear Ethan's muttering voice pick up volume and
the sheer raw *power* of his magic echoed hollowly with every
syllable he uttered. Desperately Xander tried to push the leather
through the metal buckle even as the three black candles surrounding
his head flared up brightly, the flames pouring scorching heat across
his skin.
He whimpered as Ethan walked around to the side of the stone surface
he was strapped to. He saw that the sorcerer was holding a sharp
curved blade in one hand and a glowing red gemstone in the other. His
voice was now a torrent of shouted incompressible words that made
Xander's skin crawl and his hair stand on end. Then, in a swift and
agile move, Ethan's arm came down and he quickly carved a symbol onto
Xander's bare chest.
The world dissolved in white hot agony.
A swirling vortex of thick black and red clouds with flickering white
lightening opened up above him. A whirlwind of sound and rushing air
spun crazily and Xander *screamed* in pain and terror and
hopelessness as the powerful energy literally *sucked* the soul right
out of his body.
Tearing, ripping, pulling.
He felt as if he'd been split open and his insides had been dragged
out of him with red hot hooks.
He howled out to the heavens to grant him death. Still, he lived.
Images and memories and sound assaulted his mind beneath the agony.
His mother lying in a battered heap on the floor only to have his
father turn to him and announce that *he* was next.
Staking a vampire Jesse and watching him turn to dust.
Tracking a delicious scent and finding the school mascot. Then eating
it alive.
Sex with Anya.
Buffy and Willow dancing at the Bronze.
Ampata crumbling into dust.
Spike tied up in his chair in his basement mouthing off with clipped
British tones.
Shooting demons with an automatic weapon while protecting a
frightened woman in a scarlet gown.
And then these *eyes* appeared, these empty fathomless black eyes,
floating in the middle of the swirling vortex of chaos and looking
right at him. Staring *into* him. Studying and learning and...
judging him acceptable. And that echoing voice that *oozed* evil and
pain and hatred and utter madness just raked across his ear and he
*screamed* in denial at what it said.
//YOU ARE MINE. NOW AND FOREVER MY CHILD.//
Lightening whipped around the eyes in a frenzy and then rained down
out of the vortex to *slam* into his quivering jolting body.
*Pain*
Endless overwhelming mind shattering *agony* ripped through him and
every nerve ending caught on fire and he SCREAMED. Then, mercifully,
he passed out.
*
X woke up to find that he was still strapped to the stone table upon
which he'd been reborn. With a quick flex-jerk of his back and
shoulder muscles, he tore the leather bindings loose from their
seams. Glancing around with a cold curiosity, he saw the body of the
wizard who had given up his own life to allow his 'becoming' to come
to pass. He glanced away disinterestedly.
Reaching down, he yanked at the straps that bound his legs. They
snapped under his demonic strength.
Sliding off of the table, X paused a quick moment to grab up the
fallen dagger. Clenching it tightly in his hand, he strode over to
the door. He pushed against it, but it didn't budge. Resting his hand
upon it's surface, he could *feel* the flow and pulse of electric
currents running to and from the locking mechanism. He grinned a
frighteningly evil grin.
Reaching inside his mind for the instinctive knowledge and ability to
manipulate electricity, X reversed the current, disengaging the lock.
With a solid sounding *clunk*, the door unlocked and then swung open.
He stepped through it without hesitation.
Stalking through the hallways, X could sense evil and darkness all
around him. It shivered and pulsed through the very air, but he
ignored it. It was mortal evil, generated by the human scientists and
soldiers that ran this facility. X was hunting another source of
evil. One that was infinitely deeper and more finely developed. One
that was, like his own evil, demonic.
Spike.
Turning a corner, X encountered a small group of armed military type
humans. Two of them yanked out strange looking weapons and fired them
at him. After a mortal heartbeat, X recognized them as Tazors. He
laughed in wicked glee. The mortals fired and bright jolts of pure
energy flowed into him. Feeding him. Empowering him.
Raising up one hand, palm out, he released the collected energy in
one blinding flash of power. The mortal soldiers went flying down the
hallway to land in smoking heaps of dead burnt flesh. X laughed even
harder as he stomped over them to continue on his way.
Turning another corner, he came upon a highly polished metal door. He
paused at it. It's high sheen surface acted almost like a mirror.
Looking into it's false depths, he saw an apparently naked human male
with dark curly hair and full soft lips. Wide shoulders and thick
arms, flat stomach and long legs. And upon his chest was a symbol
carved by the dead wizard. It glowed a deep ruby red and his eyes...
His eyes were solid black. No white, no iris and no pupils, just...
black.
He grinned at his reflection and it was the very face of uncaring
evil.
Turning from the door, X continued down the hall. He was getting
closer now. Closer. He could *feel* the very air tingle and shimmer
with the sensation of demonic energy. At the end of the corridor, he
reached an elevator. Pushing a button, the doors slid open. Stepping
inside, they closed and his pushed the button for the floor below him.
Nothing happened.
Enraged that the machine was not moving, X lashed out at the control
panel, slamming his fist into it so that his fingers and hand was
embedded behind the cracked and broken face plate to the wiring and
circuitry behind. This was trickier than the door. The programming
that controlled the elevator was much more complex than that which
controlled the door's lock. It took several trials and errors until X
hit upon the correct sequence of electrical manipulation to make it
work properly. Finally, he was moving down. Down towards his mate.
As soon as the doors opened, X's heightened sense of smell brought
the acrid scent of raw primal fear and freshly spilt blood to his
nose. He smiled. A truly happy smile of delight.
Following the intoxicating scent, X found himself standing outside of
a thick steel door. The scent was coming from just beyond, but so was
the sensation of demonic power. He figured that his mate was behind
the door and still terrified of the humans who had rendered him
defenseless. With a smirk, X pushed open the door and strode in. Only
to stop in overwhelming *anger* and *hatred*.
His mate was being held down across a metal table by a bunch of
soldiers while one of them *raped* him from behind.
The air reeked of human sweat and semen and saliva. Mixed in with
that was the smell of Spike's blood and his fear. Harsh guttural male
voices called out taunts and insults to the vampire as his flesh was
violently assaulted again and again.
How *dare* they! Spike was *his*! He *owned* the blonde and *no one*
was allowed to touch him without his permission!
Bloodrage descended upon him in a fiery wash and he *howled* out his
fury.
*
X's next coherent thought was 'what happened?' as he looked around
the gore splattered room. Bits and pieces of mortal flesh lay about
in quivering chunks and puddles of sticky red blood dripped
everywhere. Static electricity crackled and sparked around his hands
and up his arms and the last echoes of his angry voice yelling 'Spike
is *mine*!' still rang from the ceiling.
Turning, he saw the blonde vampire cowering naked in the corner
holding up one hand in a 'don't come any closer' gesture while
pleading in a panicky voice.
"Yes Xander. I'm yours, all yours, for as long as you want, just...
just don't rip me into bloody pieces and I'll be yours, just..."
Spike broke off with a shriek when X dropped the mangled and torn off
leg that he had been holding and then stalked towards him. The
vampire cringed back and tried to make himself as small as possible.
X didn't care, he reached out with one hand and grabbed the blonde by
the throat and *yanked* him up to eye level.
"MINE!"
Spike's eyes went a big as saucers with fear and his limbs trembled.
"Yes Xander. I'm all yours, just... don't hurt me."
X growled.
"Xander is *dead*. There's only *me* now. *X*!"
Spike nodded his head frantically and whimpered as X leaned forward
and pressed his nose alongside the vampire's neck. He inhaled deeply
and growled with anger.
"You *stink* of them. Their smell is all *over* you. I *don't* like
you smelling like those... *humans*."
The last was sneered. Spike just trembled harder. Glancing around, X
didn't see anything that could help him fix this problem, so he
yanked the blonde out into the hallway and down several corridors.
They came upon two scientists and one soldier, but X killed them all
while Spike tried to hide behind him. Finally, they came across a
locker room.
Pushing Spike inside, X dragged him towards the shower area. Turning
on the water as hot as it would go, he shoved the bruised and
bloodied vampire under the steaming cascade. A quick pilferage
through some lockers produced a bar of soap and X walked under the
burning spray as well. Grabbing the blonde, he went to work scrubbing
at every inch of his skin. He ignored the howls and cries of pain as
he brutally cleaned scraps, cuts, torn flesh and purpled bruises. He
had one goal in mind, wash every molecule of scent out of the
blonde's pores that wasn't his own. Finally, after he was satisfied
that none of the human's scent remained, X turned off the water and
threw the vampire to the wet tile floor.
"You belong to *me* and you will wear *no one's* scent but *mine*! Do
you understand?"
Spike nodded his head, the fear still evident in his eyes, yet it was
a different kind of fear. This was the fear of a cruel and harsh
master, but one that he *knew* would protect him from all others. *X*
was the only one who would ever hurt him from now on. No one else was
allowed. And that was something that Spike was very familiar with. It
was how he had spent the first fifty years of his unlife. The only
difference now was, Angelus wasn't his master this time, X was.
With a cruel smile, X grabbed Spike's legs and held them open wide,
then he *slammed* his rock hard cock into Spike's sore and abused
hole with one violent thrust. This wasn't making love. This wasn't
even sex. It was pure dominance of the most primal and brutal kind.
Spike was being claimed; as mate, as servant, as property.
The vampire's face twisted into an expression of hopeless adoration
and tortured pain even as he howled out his completion and agonized
surrender. X's eyes glittered with power and exultant pleasure as he
felt Spike's torn and battered walls quiver and shake around him.
Three more deep hard thrusts and his orgasm slammed into him. He
spilled his seed deep inside his mate. One pulse, two, three and then
he pulled out and shot another two loads on Spike's groin and chest.
Marking him with his scent.
Grinning, he pulled the tired and battered blonde up into his arms
and held him in a surprisingly gentle embrace. His whispered voice
was a sibilant hiss of amused evil.
"I have a surprise for you my luscious one."
Spike wearily raised his head and blinked his startled and fearful
blue eyes up at him. X chuckled deep in his throat. Almost tenderly,
he reached up and ran his fingers through the wet blonde hair at the
back of Spike's skull and then he reached out with his power of
electrical manipulation and gave a sharp tiny twist. Spike shivered
and twitched in his arms.
"Wha...?"
"The chip... it's busted now. You don't have to worry about it giving
you any more mean headaches. I've killed it for you."
Blue eyes flickered with gold as hope bled into them for the first
time since they had woken up in the Initiative. A small smile curved
the corners of Spike's mouth slightly and X chuckled again.
"Come, my pale beauty. Let's find you some of those stupid humans
running around here so you can feed. As soon as you're feeling
better, we'll burn this whole stinking place to the ground. Sound
like fun?"
X watched as a torrent of emotions flooded across Spike's face one
after the other. Finally, his features settled into his gameface with
ridged brow, gold glittery eyes and sharp pointed fangs.
"Yes X. That's sounds bloody lovely."
*
Lieutenant Graham Miller lay in a small puddle of blood next to the
severed head of Corporal Vincent Campbell as he watched the smoke and
flames pour out of the building that had housed Compound #28D of the
Initiative Project. He seriously doubted that more than a handful or
two of the military personnel or scientists who had worked here had
survived. Death and destruction was *everywhere* one looked.
Turning his head, Graham could just barely make out the faint outline
of the jeep that the two demons had stolen as it drove off into the
Nevada desert. Hostiles 17 & 36. Spike and Xander.
No...*X*.
Graham *remembered* the boy who had been named *Xander*. He had known
him personally, in fact. And *that* was *not* Xander. That beast,
that killing machine, was "X". And with the help of Ethan Rayne, the
Initiative had *made* X into what he was. It was all their fault.
*They* had unleashed that demon on an unsuspecting world.
Graham felt his soul shiver.
"Oh God! What have we *done*?"
Unfortunately, there was no one left to answer him...
END
