Hello there! This is my first Buffy story on fanfiction, so please tell me what you think by reviewing. I've had this idea for a while, but have only just recently got it down. I only have a couple chapters written out so far so if you want me to continue, please tell me so - you have no idea how much it would mean to me if you left me your thoughts. Hell, even constructive criticism is welcome. Anything to help me along with this story and my writing in general.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.
The smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. Her eyes were watering from the smoke rising from the ground. The walls and floor were emanating heat so strong, that she could barely stand it. It was if she was standing on hot coals, her skin blistering as she stood there, watching. In a not too distance corner, was a pit. Flames were rising from it, casting flickering shadows across the almost empty cavern.
But she only had eyes for him.
Her angel was laid out on a wooden rack that was slightly inclined, placed in the centre of the room. Manacles bound his hands and feet that looked like they had been chaffed raw. There was not a stitch on him; he was left vulnerable and exposed, his body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His head was bent and he did not move an inch. It was as if all the life and hope had been sucked out of him.
And yet, he looked as angelic as ever.
There was a rattling sound as the door to the cavern banged open. Her angel still did not move. Heavy footfalls made their way slowly toward the immobile figure and a raspy voice spoke, the kind of one that made chills run down your spine.
"Hello again, Angelus."
Again, her angel didn't respond. The monster that had spoken was nearer to him now and by the light of the orange flames, she could see the monster's skeletal frame. The monster's head cocked to one side as it regarded its prisoner.
"Still tormenting yourself about what you have done, I see," the monster regarded her angel for a long moment, "I find that physical pain blocks the mental anguish, so in a way, I am doing you a favour."
From its pocket, the monster withdrew a small blade. It gleamed maliciously in the firelight; the ancient runes carved along it became a blood red. The monster stepped closer to her angel.
She yelled for the monster to stop, but she had no voice. She couldn't move. As the knife cut her angel's flesh, tears ran down her face. If only she could get to him, to save him…
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Buffy's eyes snapped open. Ever since the day when Acathla was stopped, each night contained the same terrifying dream of Angel being tortured by the skeletal monster
She lifted a shaking hand and reached and tapped the cheap alarm clock stationed by her bed. She touched her face gently and was startled to find tears on her cheeks.
Brushing these hastily away, the blonde slayer padded through her cheap apartment to the bathroom. She stared at the reflection in the mirror. The person staring back was unrecognisable to her.
There were no apparent changes to her features, the same two moss coloured eyes, the same rosebud mouth, the same golden hair… but if you looked closely, you could see the dead look in her eyes—glassy and emotionless.
When she could no longer take looking into her own eyes, she turned on the faucet and quickly washed her face and began her morning routine. Once her hair was brushed into place and her white and red checkered uniform on, she pinned her nametag on which read "Anne".
Putting on a coat, she took one glance at the dingy apartment that she had called 'home' for the past few months and exited. She entered the small diner where she now had a minimum wage, thankless job as a waitress.
She said hello to Lucy, the middle aged woman working behind the counter, and put on her apron. The first customers of the day were already seated at the small booths. Buffy sighed and picked up her notepad and pencil, ready for another fun-filled day.
The morning ran smoothly and by one o'clock Buffy was thankful that she only had another four hours until she was out of this hellhole.
Buffy surveyed the diner and spotted a vaguely familiar brown fedora atop a stout figure seated at one of the booths. She cautiously approached the booth and saw that it was one of the last people she expected to see.
"Whistler," she stated.
"How ya doing' Slayer," replied the demon, gazing down at the menu.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just getting some grub, though by the looks of the place it would probably wouldn't be the best idea."
"What do you want with me?" she growled.
"Can't I just say hi?"
Her cold glare made his genial smile into a grimace.
"You need to get back to Sunnydale. Something's coming."
She scowled at him and turned to leave.
"Well it isn't as if you have been having nightmares about Angel-boy."
She froze and whipped back to face him.
"How did you—"
Buffy was interrupted when one of her fellow waitresses, Delilah, rushed to her side.
"Anne," she said, glancing back to the manager's office, "you better stop chatting up the customers, Mitch already has it out for you."
As she scuttled away, Buffy turned back to Whistler. She was about to speak when Whistler beat her to it.
"Not now Slayer. I'll meet you at this address at nine, sharp," he passed her a crumpled note with a hastily scrawled address underneath the word 'Caritas'.
She stared at the note and stuffed it in her pocket. Nodding once to Whistler, she returned back to her work, all the while thinking about a certain vampire with an Angelic face.
†
The blonde slayer paced her apartment. She looked down at the address and back to the small clock on the wall telling her that it was already ten to eight. Making a snap decision, she grabbed her coat and bag again and was out the door.
As she walked, she thought about what Whistler had said, about going back to Sunnydale. Guilt set into the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about her friends, her mom and Giles. Pushing the feeling of guilt aside, she looked down from the crumpled piece of paper to the alleyway she had just entered.
A voice came from the darkness, "about time you showed up."
"So you decide that the best place to chat is an alley? I thought you could do better than that, Whistler."
As he stepped into the dull glow of a streetlamp, she saw him give a shrug, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.
"I thought we could go inside."
"What do you mean go inside? There's no inside to go into."
"Just follow me."
A suspicious frown made its way onto her face as she followed him down the alley into a hidden doorway, concealed by darkness.
They entered a low-lit space, tables and chairs scattered everywhere, filled with demons, all facing what looked like a stage with a microphone. At the moment, the spotlights shone down on a very hairy demon doing a rendition of 'Girls just want to have fun'.
Buffy shuddered and followed Whistler to the bar, "a demon karaoke bar?"
Whistler shrugged again and ordered a scotch. She raised an eyebrow and surveyed the crowd again. There were an array of demons, ranging from vamps to—well whatever was on the stage. Her fingers itched for a stake as she watched one of the vamps in the corner drinking blood shots.
"Not so fast, shortbread," said a voice from behind her, "this place is violence free."
Buffy turned to find a green demon with red eyes and horns dressed in a deep purple suit. The demon then held out his hand, "I'm the Host, by the way."
Before she could reply, Whistler cut in, "why don't you just use your real name, Lorne, instead of all this 'host' business."
The demon scowled at Whistler before turning back to Buffy, "So this is the infamous slayer I've been hearing about."
"That's me. Slayer comma The," said Buffy dully, then muttered more to herself, "or at least that's what I used to be."
At that moment the hairy demon hit an extremely high note and everyone in the establishment had to cover their ears. The demon named Lorne, glanced at the stage and looked grateful when the hairy demon stepped down to polite applause, "Yeesh. And I thought it couldn't get worse than seeing a Nerine demon singing 'My Heart Will Go On'"
"Anyways, kiddo. Nice meeting you but I got to tell Bigfoot over there that his wife is gonna leave him, and no wonder…" Lorne turned back to the stage and intercepted the hairy demon that was making its way towards him.
"He's an empathy demon. Can kinda read people when they sing," replied Whistler to Buffy's questioning look.
"Cut to the chase, Whistler. What can you tell me about Angel," she managed not to stumble over his name. Whistler took a long draught of scotch and signaled the bartender for another.
"Whistler," said Buffy warningly.
"Something's coming. Something you can't even imagine. You're not strong enough. Yet."
"And that would be?"
"I don't know. I'm just the messenger. All I knows is that you got to get your butt back to Sunny D."
"Noted. But what did you mean about the nightmares I've been having?"
"They're not nightmares," Whistler sighed, "they're visions."
She froze. All that time it had been real. His pain and his anguish, all because of her. She felt tears gather in her eyes.
"I-I have to go."
"Just remember, Slayer, something's coming."
Ignoring Whistler's comment she hitched her bag higher up on her shoulder and left, praying that she wouldn't have the same...visions that she had been tormented with ever since she put a sword through her lover.
Her prayers went unanswered though and that night was just as worse as all the others. She stood and watched as the knife once again cut into his flesh, which had been healed just to be sliced up again. It was as if the knife was cutting into her own flesh. She called out his name and for a split second, his eyes lifted up to meet hers.
"Buffy."
Love it? Like it? Want to set it on fire and happy dance around the ashes? Just click the review button! I appreciate constructive critisism too :) Tell me if I should continue! Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC!
Your Obedient Authoress
-Isabella-