Greetings! After a long hiatus I am back to writing. (God help us…)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Angel or its characters. That honour belongs to the great man himself, Joss Whedon.
Chapter One: Something Wicked…
It was dark in the alley where she hid, crouching behind the dumpster in the humid L.A heat, her breath coming out in short ragged gasps. It was nearby; she could smell it, and it was angry. So far she had managed to avoid its wrath but now, trapped with nowhere to run; she was becoming less hopeful this time. The demon was approaching, ready to tear out of her that which she cherished above all things. She couldn't let that happen, not now, not when she was so close, so very close. Swallowing the rising panic in her gut, the small, damp figure dashed out into the busy streets and away from the lurking death hidden in the shadows behind.
"You know George Clooney?" Doyle was peering over Cordelia's shoulders as she typing slowly, but diligently, at the keyboard. Angel Investigations was nearing the end of yet another non-profitable day and so their reluctant secretary had decided to put her time to better use for the moment.
"Not exactly," Cordelia shrugged, "but I did meet the guy who cuts his lawn at a party the other night. That's pretty close, right?"
Doyle gave a wry laugh, "Whatever you say Princess, it's not what you know but who you know after all"
"In your case, that doesn't leave you with much does it?" She mumbled.
He faked a hurt look and puffed out his chest in an attempt to impress her. "I'll have you know I'm on very good terms with the guy from…that soap opera…the day-time one" It was a weak try and he knew it.
She gave a characteristic snort and rolled her eyes at him, "Oooohhh interesting! I'll let you know if I ever want to meet a nobody."
Doyle was about to come back with a witty remark when a voice spoke from the other room; confusion evident in the tone.
"You two still here?" Angel had wandered in from his office, a tatty novel held in his hands. The vampire with a soul had an unusual habit of walking around whilst reading; his co-workers often remarked that it was a miracle he never walked into anything.
"Glad to see you fully appreciate us there boss" Doyle quipped, his tone implying that, yes, he did have better things to do; even though all three of them knew that was a lie.
Angel shot him an apologetic look, "Sorry, seems like a while since we've left the office." Typically uncomfortable making small talk, Angel was obviously in a good mood and sidled over to the computer, peering over Cordeila's shoulder at the screen, "You know Michael Douglas? Doesn't he live in England?"
"I think it's Wales actually, my celebrity starved fri…" Doyle began but the vision, like every one since they had begun, hit without as much as a by-your-leave. Various piles of paper and notes flew in the air as Doyle's body took leave of its senses and he was vaguely aware of strong hands gripping his shoulders and halting his collapse. The small office was drowned out as the flood of images and sounds rushed into his brain, pulsing in his ears and rolling his eyes up into his skull. There was a flash, like lighting and something, a silhouette, was illuminated by the brief light. A growl, or thunder, boomed in the spiralling whirl and he could hear screaming, raw and animalistic, then the smell of something metallic assaulted him, images of red smears on an iron door the last thing he saw before the darkness began to fade. Unfortunately, the pain did no such thing and the fervent voices he was hearing on the edge of his consciousness were doing nothing to help.
"Doyle? Doyle? You okay?" The fuzzy form of Angel's concerned face swam into view, a cup of what he hoped was whiskey held out in front.
"Yeah, yeah…I think" He accepted the drink with a pained grin before necking the contents. Although the pain didn't ease, the bitter taste that was left in his mouth from the vision evaporated.
"What did you see?" The concerned note never left the vampire's voice.
Doyle gave him a half-lidded look, "A whole heap of trouble."
Their march down the darkened L.A alleyways would have been a lot more impressive if it hadn't been absolutely pouring down with rain. And not that movie-style rain where the heroes look damp and alluring as they stride down mist-swept streets. No, this was city rain; dirty, heavy and not flattering in the slightest.
Cordelia's face alone would have told anyone who came across her that this was not a good look for anyone, even soulful, broody vampires. 'Why they couldn't have just driven around in the warm and dry of Angel's car' she thought miserably. It also didn't help that her two fellow 'demon hunters' were on a mission and were streaking ahead of her as she stumbled across the slick tarmac.
The drive had started out rather unfocused, with Angel in the driver's seat and Doyle reeling off directions from the back. He had chosen to lie down for the moment, with a bottle of aspirin and an ice pack, in an attempt to ease the pounding in his head. He didn't need to see where they were going, as he insisted that he'd just know when they were close to whatever it was they were hunting. After about an hour of aimlessly cruising down busy roads, he'd sat bolt upright and, despite the obvious pain just caused to himself, shot out of the car as they pulled up at a light.
"I thought that was your bit?" Cordelia had asked, without getting a response as Angel tore out of the car after the Irishman, "I'll park the car then shall I?" She called after the fleeting figure, "Don't mind me, I'll catch up later…alone…unarmed!"
It actually didn't take long at all to find a spot; a grocery store just round the corner had a virtually deserted lot and she was able to rejoin her wayward group in a matter of minutes. She was utterly soaked through by the time she reached them; standing as they were at the mouth of a particularly dark and long alley.
Angel turned as she approached, casting a quizzical look over her drenched appearance, "You could have stayed in the car y'know?"
She wished he was alive so she could kill him, "Oh gee thanks for the info! I'm surprised you haven't run for cover to protect your hair"
The look on his face made her believe that he'd momentarily forgotten his wet locks and now seemed a little upset, "Does it look bad?" Cordelia refused to reply but gave him an annoyed grunt instead before moving past him to join Doyle further up the alley.
He was standing quite still, peering through the torrents of water whilst trying to keep the drops out of his eyes with his left hand. "I think it's here" He didn't sound too sure.
Fed up with being cold and wet, Cordelia took charge, turning to Angel, "Well? What are you waiting for, go kill it so we can go home"
Angel chose to ignore Cordelia's marching orders for the sake of an argument and instead turned to the smaller man by his side, "Doyle?"
At first he thought the half-demon hadn't heard him over the downpour but, without taking his eyes off the dark stretch before them, he whispered over the rain, "It's down there alright."
Right, location sorted. Now onto the important part, "Still no clue what it is exactly?"
Doyle shook his head; droplets flying off his hair and dripping into his eyes. "Nope, but be careful all the same"
Angel gave a nod and began walking steadily down the darkened passageway; water sloshing around his feet and trickling down his back. He was briefly thankful that he was already dead and cold, otherwise he'd be freezing. A vindictive little portion of his brain remembered his two sodden friends stationed behind him in the icy downpour and he smirked slightly.
Through the heavy rain and biting wind, he could make out a large door at the end of the alley. It seemed to be the entrance to one of the many warehouses that were scattered about Los Angeles, but obviously had been out of service for quite a while; rust and decay marked its surface and the handle was broken off. As Angel approached, the sinking feeling in his gut increased as he noted that some of the slowly fading stains were not rust, but blood.
'This must be Doyle's secret door.' Fortunately the missing handle didn't really pose a problem as the metal was pretty warped, allowing the vampire to pry his hands into a gap and begin wrenching it open. It creaked and moaned at the assault, growing louder the harder he pulled…'That doesn't sound like a door…'
The figure barrelled out of the darkness to his right, knocking him away and into a trio of trash cans. Through the clatter he thought he heard Cordelia shout his name but the bulky mass had already advanced on him. Grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, it lifted and hurled Angel further down the alley and away from the door. 'All the more reason for me to get in there' he thought briefly before connecting with the slick asphalt.
Leaping to his feet faster than any human ever could, Angel rounded on the figure, taking in its appearance in the dim light. It really was huge; dark red in colour with muscled arms as thick as tree branches and legs to match. Long tendrils of what might have been hair trailed down from its head, reaching right to his knees. Small, beady eyes shone out with a blue light from under a heavy brow. The snarling noise it made sounded like a bag of rocks falling down a well; a deep throaty noise that made the hairs on the backs of his hands stand on end.
Without skipping a beat it launched another attack, its massive clawed hands sweeping out in huge arches, attempting to slice the vampire in half. The lunges were strong but clumsy and Angel took the advantage and dived in close, avoiding the razor-sharp claws and landing a hard right on the demon's face.
The blow caught it off guard and it staggered briefly before swinging out again, knocking its assailant away. A thunderous roar burst from its throat and Angel half expected another attack but was surprised to see the beast dash away from the fight, heading for the exit. He took pursuit but he was waterlogged, his clothes weighing him down. The demon however, clothed only in a crude sort of loincloth, was racing ahead, remarkably fast for its hulking mass. Up ahead, Angel saw Doyle leap out and attempt to clobber the fleeing demon with a wooden plank but was easily knocked aside. The demon raced ahead and straight out into the street, leaving Angel to stare as it bounded across the lanes of traffic, causing the cars to swerve and skid on the wet road before it crashed through a fence on the opposite side…and vanished.
Slowing from his dash, Angel reached his two soggy companions as Cordelia was helping Doyle pick himself up off the floor, a nice round bruise blossoming over his left eye. "That went well" he drawled sarcastically.
Angel began rubbing his shoulder where the demon had tackled him, it throbbed but wasn't broken. "I think we've found our demon. I think we should go and see what he was so keen to protect."
They approached the door as a group, Doyle and Cordelia hanging back to allow Angel room to yank open the rusted metal. Accepting a flashlight from Cordelia with a smile Angel shone the beam into the inky black, showing stone walls and wooden boxes illuminated by the yellow light. Taking a quick sniff of the air, Angel was confident that they were the only ones around, but in that same moment he recognised the familiar scent of blood. Casting a quick look back at his co-workers he stepped into the room in the direction of the gore he knew was there.
"Oh sure, this is how I wanted to spend my evening. I could have been networking at April's birthday party, or hitting the night-life or doing something that normal people do but no, I have to be picking my way through a demon's dirty laundry…" Cordelia's dry tone cut through the gathering dark, her ramblings distracting her so much that she walked straight into Angel's back when he abruptly stopped, "What the…?"
She peered over his shoulder and gasped softly at the scene in front of her. Blood adorned the wall and floor, great swathes of the crimson liquid splashed across the boxes and crates like a finger-painting session gone horribly wrong. Amongst the pools, she could just about make out the shapes of what looked like body parts; an arm and both legs, a hand and, was that part of a head? Gross!
"We're too late" Angel's comment sounded hollow, pained. He suddenly rounded on Doyle, who was taking in the carnage with a sickened grimace, "How can we be too late?"
The accusatory tone was not lost on the Irishman, who lifted his head sharply to meet his boss' eyes, "I don't know! The vision led me here and we left straight away. I don't understand why they'd send us just to find…this." Hearing the hopelessness in his friends' voice, Angels' stern gaze softened and he placed a hand on Doyle's shoulder apologetically.
"Hey guys, I think I've found our 'why'" Cordelia's voice drew their gaze to where she was shining the flashlight she'd relieved from Angel's grasp and found themselves looking at a huddled bloodstained figure with wide brown eyes, whimpering in the dark.
It's been a long time and I may be a touch rusty. Any beta readers out there who want to give me a hand with the following chapters are very welcome.
If you fancy giving a review, there's the button…
