TITLE: Swallowed
AUTHOR: Methos
DISCLAIMER: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon; The Darkness belongs to Top Cow Comics, simply said, anything you recognise as belonging to someone else, belongs to them ok? Nothing is mine, only the extremely twisted idea…
WARNING: Bit darker than your average Buffy fic, expect scenes of violence, dark humour, sex, nudity, and other things that may shock or offend…
May 4, 2002
As the clock struck midnight on May the third, ushering in a new day, strange events happened around the world. Little ones, ones that happened away from prying eyes of mortals, or in the darkness between realms. Events that had been set in motion nearly five years ago, but had finally come to fruition.
In the caverns under Sunnydale The First Evil looked up, the plans it had been working on for years were finally going to bear fruit and it would once again spread itself over the mortal world. Or it would have, only as the clock struck midnight, the view of Sunnydale was clouded, inky darkness spreading tentacles of palpable black over the unseen view.
For the first time in millennia, The First Evil moved back in fear. Contrary to what it told its followers, The First Evil wasn't endless, nor had it been around before the universe itself. The First Evil had been created, much like all entities of evil, when mankind first looked into the darkness, and found something looking back.
"What is it?" Caleb asked, watching as the cloud of darkness moved around the cavern, obscuring light and blacking out any thought of escape.
No answer came though, as The First Evil fled, folding itself back into a flash of light it vanished from the cavern under Sunnydale and from the Earthly realm itself, leaving Caleb alone with a single fiery torch by his side as the darkness encroached on him.
"My God?" Caleb asked, watching as The First even vanished, leaving him along in the empty cavern with the dark shadows closing in around him, for the first time since The first Evil had chosen him, fear started to bleed into mind as he noticed movement within the darkness itself.
He held his ground for nearly an hour, using the torch as a final refuge of light against the darkness, until it burnt out and the light, and Caleb himself, were swallowed by the same being that The First Evil had fled from the sight of, The True Darkness.
In the outer realms watching Los Angeles and the plans it had for the city itself, The Blessed Devourer paused in its plans. Feeling a tickle of doubt, something it hadn't felt since it had been expelled by The Powers That Be.
If anything, The Blessed Devourer was patient, it knew it's time would come, and it would be reborn onto Earth to usher the new age of world peace, a peace free of violence, of hate, and of free will. But as it watched the girl, the girl that would be its mother, start to look at the vampire's child differently, though prods and manipulations it had used over time, it faltered.
A memory in the girls mind, a simple one, a small one, one of an old life in Sunnydale away from the big city and big plans, but one of significance. The Blessed Devourer followed the thread of the memory, a boy, dressing in a tailored suit years ago. It nearly dismissed the worry as a fleeting emotion, one that should be banished without thought, until the memory changed to the meaningless boy changing, long hair and eyes of darkness itself looked back at it through the memory, and The Blessed Devourer shrank away in fear.
The girl was nothing, insignificant, The Blessed Devourer could find another in time, it would just take further planning and manipulation. As powerful as it was, even an expelled Power would not dare challenge The Darkness itself, even for the ripe challenge of creating peace on Earth.
No, the insignificant girl, this Cordelia Chace, was associates, friends, and an old lover of the new host of Darkness. And as much as The Blessed Devourer would claim power beyond mortal kin, even it, and the other Powers themselves, would shrink away in fear from The Darkness that created the eternal night.
In Boston, a mob enforcer collapsed dead in the middle of eating a Chinese meal, his companion, Butcher Joyce jumping up from his chair expecting a mob hit, but found no bullet wound, nor would ever find a cause of death. To the world, it seemed Jackie Estacado, last of the Estacado line, died without explanation.
In The White Room, away from the mortal city of Los Angeles and the Earthly realm itself, The Senior Partners turned their heads in one, looking to the North West, some with curiosity, some with worry, and some with hesitation. Wolfram and Hart had existed as The Senior Partners hand in the mortal realms for millennia, they were old, ancient, and their knowledge was as vast as their power.
"The Darkness rises," One whispered, the feeling of the ancient power was one they had referenced and catalogued time and time again throughout history. Their files, the same ones they had given to their hands on earth in disguise as a law firm, were spread throughout the world.
All the high level executives at Wolfram and Hart knew of The Darkness, the files had their own floor in every Wolfram and Hart building, files on every known host were there, spanning back over ten thousand years of Darkness spreading over the earth.
"The Estacado line has been severed." Another Senior Partner nodded thoughtfully. Making note to inform the executives at the New York branch that now the Franchetti family were now vulnerable, and like all the other Mafioso families in New York, they would now bow to Wolfram and Hart.
"The line now lies with The Slayers." Yet another Senior Partner noted. "We should watch this development carefully."
"We do nothing," The Senior Partner at the head of the table said simply, causing all heads to turn to him. "We created The White Room to keep The Darkness out, so we could plan, exist, and devour this world without The Darkness turning its eyes to us."
There were murmurs of agreement around the table. The White Room had existed as a conduit for The Senior Partners for thousands of years, even reaching back to medieval times when it was a room tiled in white mirrors with flamed torches casting their glow on every corner, eliminating all shadows The Darkness could hide in. All The Senior Partners knew why, the fear of The Darkness finding them and encroaching on their realm was well founded, and the conduit, the White Room as it was called by their servants, served as a safe guard to prevent that.
"Would you have this new host turn The Darkness towards our plans?" The Senior Partner at the head of the table asked rhetorically, knowing full well the answer.
"This changes things." Another Senior Partner said with a nod. "The new host must be watched, he is too close."
"I agree," The Senior Partner at the head of the table nodded back. "I will have Special Projects watch for the new host. A new file must be created." It said finally, waving its hand and causing a ripple in the White Room as a form was created from the ether.
"My Lords," Holland Manners whispered with a bow, it had been nearly two years since his death, and half as long since The Senior Partners had used him for anything in the Earthly realm. Not since his discussion with the vampire Angel had he step foot outside the Senior Partners home dimension itself.
"Our plans must be changed," The Senior Partner to The Head's left said softly. "We must proceed with caution."
"What would you have of me?" Holland Manners asked respectfully, knowing that pleasing The Senior Partners like this would be a boon unlike any other that could come to him in eternity.
"The Los Angeles offices are yours again." The Senior Partner at the head of the table said simply, waving his hand over Holland Manners' body again and returning him to corporeal form. "The Darkness is too close to allow incompetence within our hand." It explained, as much as an explanation as a threat. "Not in remembered history has The Darkness been so close to our offices. The branch must be secured against this threat."
"I shall begin preparations at once." Holland Manners said respectfully, feeling the nervous urgency in the White Room.
"We move in secret," Another Senior Partner said firmly towards Holland.
"Of course," Holland Manners bowed his head in respect, knowing the words to mean 'tread carefully here'.
"The Darkness must not know how close it is," The Senior Partner at the head of the table explained. "Familiarise yourself with the previous hosts, and if you can, find who this new host is. We must know all we can of this threat."
"It will be done," Holland Manners bowed again. "Do you wish this new host to be brought into Wolfram and Hart's arms?"
There were murmurs around the table as The Senior Partners looked at each other, none seemingly willing to voice their own opinion, for or against the idea, as both sides had great merit, and even greater risk.
"Leave us," The Senior Partner at the head of the table said, the body of Holland Manners simply fading from view in a ripple of light as he turned back to the other Partners. "This needs further discussion."
"We need to know more before we approach." Another Senior Partner said cautiously.
"Agreed." The Senior Partner at the head of the table nodded in agreement. "We know nothing of this new host, his past, or his affiliations. It may be he cannot controlled like the Estacado line could be."
"The Estacado's were ruthless in their passion of material pleasures." Another Senior Partner said, seemingly voicing his own thoughts. "A mortal failing."
"Perhaps the new host can be controlled by the same failing?" Another Senior Partner agreed with the thought.
"It is useless believing the new host to be the same as the hosts of old until we can ascertain his past, and know of his future." The Senior Partner at the head of the table interrupted. "For now, we must learn this new host's identity, learn of his passions, and find an explanation for the shift in lines." It explained as the Partners around the table nodded in agreement. "The new host lies on the Hellmouth, we can only count on fortunes of old that it does not lie with the Slayer line itself."
"The Darkness cannot be allowed to join The Council." Another Senior Partner said, voicing everyone at the large table's concerns.
"We dare not move against it, even if such is the case." Another Senior Partner spoke up. "We must bide our time, wait, learn, watch and plan for all eventualities. The Darkness brings chaos to our ordered plans, we can simply hope not to be swept away by the tides."
"We will watch," The Senior Partner at the head of the table agreed. "And learn, if this new host is willing, then he might bring The Darkness to us not knowing what he offers. If not, we shall wait and postpone for this host to die." It explained, holding up its hand as another Partner started to speak. "I will not risk all of our future plans by moving against the new host itself. To do so would risk turning The Darkness from a neutral player, into an enemy with its sights set upon us directly." It explained, watching as the other Senior Partners nodded in agreement.
"We will watch, and wait." The Senior Partner at the head of the table said simply, leaning back in its chair and steepling its fingers together. "For while The Darkness is eternal, so are we." It said simply as it rose from its chair in the White Room and moved to leave.
Preparations must be made, and security around The White Room conduit must be enhanced. They could not risk The Darkness finding them here.
In Sunnydale, the home of the Hellmouth and The Slayer, a boy, now a man, shifted in his bed restlessly. A boy that hadn't celebrated his birthday for nearly ten years now, learning at a young age that his parents wouldn't celebrate it for him, so why should he.
He rolled in his bed as the dream took over, the digital clock on his bedside changing to midnight before the darkness around him grew thicker, malleable, textured and palpable in the night air. "Darkness," He half mumbled in his sleep, his body thrashing in the bed and tossing the covers to the side as magical remnants from a Halloween curse years ago flooded through his body, enhanced by power bled from The Darkness itself.
A young boy, now a man, turned twenty one in the darkness, with no one to watch, no one to comfort him, alone and afraid as The Darkness swallowed him whole. He tossed in his sleep restlessly, flipping on the bed and mumbling whispered threats of vengeance to a peroxide vampire that had had sex with his loved one. As the dream changed to vengeance and the darkness swept away the vampire, his face twisted in pleasure, unknowingly kept in his dream by forces beyond his comprehension as his hair grew out faster than any mortal growth, reaching shoulder length in seconds to match the previous host's body.
In the darkness of his lonely bed, still empty from his failure with Anya, he slept on, failing to see the closet door open by itself. The forgotten Halloween suit hanging there at the back of the closet, it's out of date cut meaningless to him, as meaningless as the credit card that had fallen through the tattered pocket lining and still laid forgotten between the fabric, etched with the name Danny Estacado.
Outside of the apartment building, Anya looked towards the door, her demon senses tingling and warning her to stay away. As much as her love for Xander burned in her heart, the demon inside her pushed back, the feeling in the night air was one it knew all too well, a feeling that all demons knew, whispering the name 'Darkness' into her mind and forcing Anya to turn from the building and walk away into the night.
In the shadowed apartment in Sunnydale, The Darkness rose.