Disclaimer: The characters in the Buffy and Angel universes belong to Joss Whedon and the folks at Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox.
Characters from Fright Night belong to Tom Holland, Tommy Lee Wallace, Colombia and Tristar.
This is an AU crossover fic. It's a bit of a deviation from the Buffy and Angel comics and if things at the end of the Fright Night sequel took on a bit of a dark turn.
Warning for torture.
Two Become One
Prologue
Twenty Two Years Ago
Charley closed his eyes as he fought against his new vampiric urge to bite Alex and feast on her blood. She loved him and he loved her and he was not going to let Regine win. His love for Alex was too strong for that to happen. He reached up to grab Belle's wrists.
Belle was already moving one of them. The transvestite had dug one of his black nails into Alex's throat and slid it straight across, spilling Alex's blood and ending her life in a single sound that was a cross between a whimper and a gasp.
Charley stared in a horrific shock as his girl friend's body slouched a bit. "No," the words barely escaped from his throat. He tried not to look at the blood and refused to succumb to the ravenous cravings from his stomach.
"Drink, Charley," Regine commanded. She had yet to lose that sultry tone of hers. "We don't want any more of that luscious blood going to waste."
Charley kept his mouth clamped shut and refused to look. Even when he felt the muscle head behind him shove him forward. All he could think of was Alex. He wasn't strong enough to resist Regine's power. He felt strong fingers grab the back of his hair and forced his head closer until his lips brushed against the blood that was still gushing. The iron scent and the sticky warm sensation was enough for him to pry his lips apart. A few drops fell into his mouth and once they struck his tongue he could no longer resist the urge to drink. He felt his canines lengthen again as he lapped up the blood around the wound and slurped from the deep gash.
"Good boy," Regine purred.
After several minutes Charley stopped drinking and jolted himself backwards. "No," he repeated as the realization and struck him. There was no going back. He had tasted blood, enough to satisfy his thirst and seal his fate. The pain was not as strong as the sorrow from losing Alex. His eyes were burning from the tears that had formed. He barely heard the sound of a fist striking against something solid. He rocked himself back and forth while he repeated Alex's name.
"Hmmm," Belle murmured as he ran his tongue against Alex's neck. She placed her lips across the gash and drank even more.
"Get away from her," Charley growled and launched himself at the transvestite to only be held back.
"Forget about her," Regine said. She was holding on to his arms. "You are immortal. Now stand up."
Charley shook as he rose. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt his tears fall out of the corners. "He killed her."
"Yes she did," Regine's voice dripped in distain. "I will have a word with Belle about that. You were the one who was supposed to kill her." She ran her finger under his chin. "Open your eyes and kiss me."
Charley opened his eyes and stared deeply into hers before he felt their lips touch. He squirmed as Regine brushed her tongue over his mouth and saw the slight trace of red on her tongue. She had licked up the little bit of blood that clung to his lips.
"Regine," he whispered her name as he grabbed her shoulders. He didn't know what to say what to do. Everything felt fuzzy; everything was dizzy.
"You are mine," she said before she kissed him again. It was deeper this time. "Come, Charley. It's bed time." She hooked her arm around his and dragged him towards the elevator. "Belle, when you are done cut of the head. Bosworth. I want you to make a call to the authorities."
"He will get the blame," Bosworth said as he stared down at the unconscious form of Peter Vincent in his arms. "What about Louie and Richie?"
"Richie was another pawn," Regine said to him. "And you know what a fool Louie was. We will get over his loss."
Charley barely noticed the two as they walked past them. He closed his eyes again. He had failed his friend. He failed Alex and worse of all; he has failed himself. This was his entire fault. Peter tried to warn him. The signs were all there, but he refused to believe him. Charley had himself convinced that vampires did not exist, and now he was one of them.
"Here we are," Regine said as they stepped out. "Your coffin is over here." She guided him over to one of the open coffins. "Enjoy your rest."
Charley said nothing as he climbed inside. It was lined with soil. It had to have been dug fresh. As soon as he was inside the lid was closed. Charley whispered one more apology before he closed his eyes.
Six Months Ago
Charley felt his lids grow heavier. He had a good night, at least he did once Regine was done with the whipping. His body still bared the marks of the weapon she used. It was a single handle with long narrow strips that sliced open his flesh. Once she was done he was free to go hunt. Charlie's definition of hunting was to simply fly to the nearest ranch and feed of one of the cattle. He rotated himself between three cows that was closest to him until his thirst was satisfied.
Charley wasn't always aloud to go hunting on his own. He used to be kept imprisoned within their home. He fed off the rats and pigeons that Bosworth had hunted for him. Those meals were far and few between when was first turned. Once he went two weeks without anything until Regine brought him a squirming woman who had her wrists bound behind her and a mask over her head. Charley didn't question her or himself and eagerly sank his fangs into the victim's neck. Once he had the innocent human drained she was unmasked. It was his mother.
He spent the following hours curled up in the fetal position crying. All he could hear was the sound of laughter from the others. He tried to kill them, but Regine would always insert her control over him and he would drop the stake. He once tried to take it to his own chest, but Regine had also prevented him from completing the task.
"I can't allow you to die, my pet," Regine had told him. "You are to suffer for all eternity."
No physical torture was more painful than the emotional pain of Charley killing his own mother or not being able to save Alex. He will never forget them, nor would he forget that he was the one who was responsible for their deaths. Charley also blamed himself for what had happened to Peter Vincent. Peter spent the rest of his life in mental hospitals. Charley was never allowed to visit, but learned of his death when Bosworth had brought in the newspaper for the evening.
The emotional pain was the worst but the physical pain was horrendous. There were various whips that were used on him. There were chains that were lashed against his pail and bare skin, cat o nine tails, hybrid whips that were mixed with bits of barbed wire. It wasn't always the whips. He was also beaten from everything from fists to crowbars, to baseball bats. He was cut with various sharp objects, burned by matches, boiling water and oil, covered with burning wax. He had every bone broken at least once. There were a few times he was covered in ice and had nails hammered into his body.
The only upsides to the torment were that Regine only did it once per night and only used one form of torture. The other upside was that only Regine was allowed to touch him. That meant that Belle could never slice him with her claws and Bosworth could not beat him. The other upside was that Regine was easing up. When he was first turned it was twice or even three times a night at least for the first year and that gradually worn down to once a night and now it wasn't every night, only five out of seven days of the week, four if he was lucky.
It wasn't always pain with Regine. Sometimes pleasure was involved. She was able to use every part of her body to satisfy Charley sexually. He did not want to admit it, but a part of him craved her. There were no words he could use to describe the amazing details. They were able to have sex in their human forms, on the wing and even as wolves.
That was another detail that Charley hated to enjoy. He loved taking on the various forms. He loved flying around as a large bat or running along the ground as a wolf. He was worried about turning into mist at first, afraid he would dissipate and never return but he had gotten the hang of the transformation rather quickly.
The mist had faded and Charley found himself on the dance floor. He was dressed in a tuxedo. People surrounded him and they were all gray. All accept one person, one girl. She looked like a princess as she glided toward him. She radiated out a light that was so pure. She held out her hand.
Charley reached out for her, but as soon as their fingers grasped each other his chains made out of shadows wrapped around his body and pulled him back.
Charley awoke with a gasp and realized he and his coffin were shaking. He stared at the lid and could have sworn it was moving like a ring's on water was wigging across it. He blinked his eyes and the rippling had stopped. He raised the lid and sat up.
"Bosworth," Regine called out. She and Belle were also sitting up.
"I'm on it," Bosworth said. He had walked past them with an iphone in his hands. "Accessing the Internet right now."
"Just a small earthquake," Regine said. "Go back to sleep."
Charley nodded and yawned.
Two Weeks Ago
Scotland
"I hate earthquakes," Xander Harris complained out loud to anybody that would take care to listen to him. "I really hate the ones that rattle the whole Earth." Growing up in California one would be used to Earthquakes especially minors ones that were only a one or two on the Richter scale. However when one grows up in a place called Sunnydale then it would be wise to take notice of all seismic activity.
"Sorry Monsieur Harris," Monique said from behind the computer on the other side of the room. The French Slayer had her blond hair tied back into pigtails so it would not get into her face. She was one of the smartest of the Slayers with computer skills that were a perfect match to Willow's and since she was in Holland with another group of Slayers Xander and the others had to rely on her.
"Still nothing?" Xander asked. He did not bother to ask her to not call him Mr. Harris.
"There is nothing," Monique said in a disappointed tone. "There has been no other disturbance aside from the mystical rippling effect."
"No Hellmouths opening, no churches sinking, nothing linking to the possible end of the world."
"Nothing, however I do have some information on those who have recently been activated." She grabbed a notepad and wrote down some information.
"I like good news," Xander said.
"Bri?" Monique held up the notes.
Briana, or Bri as she liked to be called rolled up over to Monique on her pink roller blades. Before she was activated she lived to skate and did stylish competition similar to figure skating. Even though she felt committed to slaying, the Bazillion Slayer still rolled around wherever she went and even slayed while on her skates.
"Here, Xander," Bri said as she rolled past Xander and handed him the note.
"Thanks Rollerslayer," Xander said as he accepted the information and quickly read it. "Been activated since March? I hate earthquakes."
