For Peace
For Peace,
Wherever
He May Find
Her.
Through
the blinds on his window, Angel watched as the sky bathed in the warm reds of
the sun's afterglow whilst it set in the west. Within a few minutes, night
would descend upon the world outside and those things that thrived within its
shadows would feed upon its naivety.
Tonight
people would scream in terror as they faced the evils of their nightmares. God
would have no mercy upon their souls as they disappeared in the darkness, never
to return...
That
task belonged solely to the one they called the Slayer, the Chosen One. The one
girl in the entire world with the strength and skill to protect the humans from
his kind. His kind. Nosferatu, boucolac…
Or
as most now called them: vampire.
And
the Slayer was not here, though he prayed, she never came. She would never come
here.
Pulling
on his black jacket, he scanned the copy of The
Hemery Herald that he kept framed on his wall and uttered a curse. The
headline read, "Disturbed teen burns gym!" That teen had been Buffy Anne
Summers and the gym had been overrun with vampires baying for blood. He'd been
there at the time. Watching her from afar, the woman he longed for more than any
other in the world.
Watching
her kill them, kill them all.
Angel
frowned. Now wasn't the time to question why the girl had failed to arrive.
Why
he'd been mad enough to come here.
He
needed to be out there hunting, saving human lives regardless of whether or not
they were worth it (most were almost stupid enough to deserve death.), he had to
try. Right now, he was all they had to save them.
Turning
his head back to his window, he caught sight of moonlight seeping through the
blinds. They were out there, ready to gorge themselves on mortal blood…
"Wish
me luck Whistler." Angel muttered as he gathered up his wooden stakes to fill
his pockets.
How
Whistler had persuaded him to enter this fight was starting to get beyond his
understanding. Angel had trained to fight and to fight well, but when all was
said and done he was a vampire. And a vampire was really only as strong as the
next of his demonic 'kin' – however preternatural that strength was in the
eyes of those he was attempting to help.
But
he had to try.
Opening
the door to his apartment, Angel slipped out into the night. It was time to even
the score.
Unknown
to Angel, another vampire stood amongst the shadows of the building. His mortal
name was Peter Mattherson though he did not notice Angel begin his walk into the
outside world.
Peter
was too busy feeding.
The
girl's name was Marcie Ross, a mildly pretty little sophomore from the local
high school. But what did that matter as long as she remained willing. Poor
girl, she had no friends, no self-esteem, no life. Soon though she would begin a
new life. Soon, she would experience sights and sensations she could never have
dreamt of…
"Marcie?"
he said adoringly. "Marcie? Are you awake?"
As
hard as he tried not to, he always seemed to drain far too much blood from the
ones that he wanted to keep.
"P-ete,"
Marcie said groggily. "I don't feel… so…good…make it…bet-ter…."
"It's
okay," Peter replied, careful not to let his excitement come through. "I
promised… but are you sure that you want to walk with me from the sun." He
was hungry. He couldn't help but ask.
"Cor-de-lia,
Cordelia's blood… and Harmony," the girl moaned longingly. "I…wa-nt….
To taste...it…all…"
Oh
yes, this girl would kill her fair share. "Drink. I'll wait for you… I
promise," Peter told her as he dug his fingernails into his neck and drew
Marcie closer to him. "Drink Marcie, drink your way to happiness…."
***
Marcie
felt her heart race. One moment she was rapidly losing consciousness, the next
it was back with a vengeance as she pressed her lips against the mysterious
young man that she'd met for the first time, this very night. Never had she
felt so alive, so vibrant as she did now, as she tasted his blood. Words failed
her as she struggled to capture the essence of the flavour. All save one…
Power,
his blood was power incarnate…
More!
She had to have more…
Moaning
with pleasure she continued to drain him. It was beyond the sexual, beyond lust,
beyond hunger. The feeling was beyond life itself. Somewhere deep in the back of
her mind, Marcie Ross knew that it was wrong. This man, this Pete had not lied
to her for the sake of a perverse power game. Somewhere deep inside her heart
she knew that the power she consumed was dark and unholy. But she wanted it. She
would let nothing stand in the way of her ascension. Nothing!
Not
least, her immortal soul…