Wherever I May Roam
Disclaimer: own nothing, mayhap in another world, but not in this one, say thankya.
Summary: Xander makes a sacrifice, and we all know that on the Hellmouth, no good deed goes unpunished.
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Randall Flagg, known to some as the 'walkin' dude,' had led a fairly nomadic lifestyle these past few months. Ever since the fall of Gilead and Roland's travels had began, he had been leading the gunslinger out towards the ocean. It was one of his many assigned jobs in this world, but one that he did with a small sense of pride and satisfaction. Roland irked him, irked him in a way that no man had ever irked him, not even as his father had back when he had been known as Walter Padick.
Still, there was work to be done, but more than enough time for it to be done, enough time for him to engage in his own projects, all of which came first and foremost in Flagg's mind. While he was currently employed by that spider, he was always more concerned with his goals, meaningful (or –less) as they were.
So, after finishing his business with Roland of Gilead, the walkin' dude had taken a semi-leave of absence from the King's service. He had traveled along the roads of the worlds, going where he felt like going, until time had come when he had arrived in a place he had not yet visited. It was almost as though something had drawn him there. It reminded him of the pull of the Beams of the Dark Tower, the Tower upon which God sat on His throne.
A frown crossed his face momentarily at that thought, but he put it aside.
Today had been perhaps the most interesting day of his travels. Not for any other reason than the fact that he had never stumbled across a naked man in the middle of the desert before.
The man had jet black hair, wounds all over his body that told of a hard life, but most interestingly was his aura. His aura told of a man who had suffered, for others or for a cause, but whatever it was, this man had the mark on him, a mark that he knew very well.
The Mark of Hell.
He had been touched by Hell, and as a result, Flagg had little doubt that this man had been brought into his life for a purpose. What that purpose was, though, Flagg would have to discern for himself.
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Xander put on the jeans with a groan, readjusting them to ensure that they didn't open any of his wounds up. Life had not been kind to him, but that was alright. He was fairly used to it.
"What happened to you, boy," Flagg asked him, genuinely curious.
"Mister, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xander muttered, "Hell, I'm not even sure if I believe it."
Flagg reminded Xander of two things: Hell and Christopher Walken. Only one was he fond of, and the other he hated with all his might.
"Try me, son," Flagg said with a sly grin, "There's more things in Heaven and Earth than either of us will believe."
"…Do you believe in magic," Xander asked, sighing to himself.
"In a young girl's heart," Flagg said with a grin, bringing a small grin to Xander's face, "Absolutely. If you mean 'hocus pocus' and 'Avada Kedabra' and all that jazz from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Xander had a puzzled look on his face, as he had been in Hell when Harry Potter had launched off the bookstands, "Well…"
Flagg held up his hand and snapped his fingers, causing a large flame to come off his thumb. Flagg idly reached into his jacket pocket, producing a cigarette from it and he lit it with his thumb-fire, and began to suck in the nicotine as Xander watched in surprise.
"Smoke," Xander shook his head at the offer, causing Flagg to laugh and say, "Good," he blew out the flame and tossed the cigarette onto the ground, stamping it out with his foot as he did so, "Those things'll kill you, y'know."
"So I've heard," Xander said with a smile, starting to like Flagg, if only for his sense of humor, "So, I take it you're a wizard."
"I prefer the term 'professional endeavourer of the illusionary and fantastical arts,' if you would," Flagg cackled kindly to him.
"Well, to keep a long story short," Xander started, "I assume you know of the Hellmouth?"
Flagg's face lost his smile, suddenly replaced by a still look that frightened Xander very much.
"The Hellmouth," Flagg whispered in something akin to awe, but not quite so, "It opened, didn't it?"
"Yeah," Xander confirmed, "It was a spell designed to end the world. The only way to end it was for someone to sacrifice themselves…"
"And you drew the lucky straw," Flagg concluded, reevaluating Xander on the spot, finding himself liking the man more and less at the same time. Any man who would give his life up for the world that most likely never knew of him, let alone of his sacrifice, was a dangerous man to him.
"Yeah," Xander confirmed, "If it's 2008 as you say, that means it's been…ten years since then."
"That means you've been in Hell that long," Flagg now understood where his aura came from, "Wow…that must've been a pickle."
"You've no idea," Xander remarked, "So, you said we're in Southern California. Do you know how far we are from LA?"
"About a day's walk," or a moment's teleport, Flagg said aloud and thought to himself, "Is that where you're from?"
"No, the Hellmouth is in Sunnydale," Xander supplied, "Sunnydale's only two hours by car from LA."
"…Sunnydale," Flagg had only been in this world a grand total of several hours (of course, who was to know for sure, as this world was starting to move on), but even at that short amount of time, he had learned enough of it to know what was what, "You don't wanna go there, son."
"Why," Xander asked, an aggressive tone entering his voice, "What happened?"
Flagg sighed, wondering what was going to come of this, "Well, I guess I might as well show you."
Flagg snapped his fingers.
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Xander gasped as he reappeared on a cliff edge, looking all the way down at a drop to the desert that would end with a sudden stop. He barely managed to maintain his balance and not fall, but that had been enough for his heart to skip a beat and leave him gasping.
"Sorry," Flagg said to his right, and the man sounded anything but, "Forgot that some people aren't used to moving that fast."
Flagg turned his gaze away from him and stared out across the desert. He pointed out towards the west, and Xander followed his gaze.
The first thing he noticed was the setting sun. It blocked his view of things for a moment, as he could not really see what was ahead of him in the light. Light still hurt his eyes, or at least sunlight did.
His eyes adjusted after a moment, and he saw what Flagg was pointing out to him. Before him was a field of death. Dead tanks, fighters, machines of war littered the desert before him, and he could make out lines of thing in the air, perhaps posted into the air…crucified soldiers, with their guns still hanging off their bodies as they hung like ripened fruit.
Directly behind this field of death was a large shape, transparent in form. It looked like a sphere of some kind, disappearing into the ground. His mind told him that it resembled a force field, like the ones used in science fiction movies and television shows.
"What is it," Xander asked.
"In 2000, the world as it was known came to an end," Xander turned to him in shock, "A biomechanical entity was combined with demonic and human parts. It was called Adam, for obvious reasons. It was born in Sunnydale. A group of people tried to stop it, but they failed. After that, Adam's been on the warpath. He's conquered most of the West Coast, and has taken parts of Asia and the Middle East. Europe and Africa remain mostly free, though Adam has taken Italy, except for the Vatican City."
"It sounds like this Adam's the antichrist," Xander said, mostly to himself.
Flagg laughed suddenly, laughing like a man who has heard something both absurdly funny and extremely offensive.
"Adam is not the antichrist," Flagg said with a thin smile, "Adam's a thief in the night, stealing away humanity from itself. Under other circumstances, I could grow to like the bastard."
Xander shrugged at that, thinking that Flagg was not as impressed with Adam as he was letting on.
"What happened to the people who tried to stop it," Xander asked.
"There were six of them," Flagg explained, "College students, for the most part. Half of them are dead, the other three…one of them's amongst the humans, the other two…"
He pointed to the dome.
"What," Xander asked, thoroughly scared out of his mind.
"Come," Flagg said with a sad smile, "Let's go see the other side of the map."