The rain is still coming down hard. Like Kennedy's death ripped open the sky or something. Portents? Signs? Whatever. You swirl the stake in your hand and stare at the picture on Kennedy's wall. Twirl. Catch. Twirl. Catch. Twirl. Catch.
Downstairs, the answering machine takes the call.
Faith? It's me. Again. Uh. Buffy. I'm… look, I know if I keep calling it's gonna come across all psycho, so I… just... I'm just… I'll be here. Yunno. If you need me. Always. Sorry.
Faith?
(Click)
Twirl. Catch. Twirl. Catch.
You feel coiled up. Bursting to release. Thunder shakes the house. You can feel the static in your hair. Down your spine. The tap, tap, tap of the overflow, joining the gurgle of water making its way down the zig zag stair down to Oak Park Street. You hear Giles breathing uneasily as nightmare things crawl through his drunken sleep.
Twirl. Catch. Twirl. Catch.
Screw this.
The door splinters under your boot, and you plunge into the room. The vampires that are lucky scurry back. Those that are not are screaming from the arch of holy water.
Kick. Punch. Slam. Stake.
The hot ashes hiss as they stick to your rain drenched flesh. A primal growl emanates from low your chest. Furious blows crush sickly vampire flesh.
Punch. Punch. Stake.
Kick, sweep, punch. Stake.
Block. Stake.
Stake.
They all fall before your rage. The last you have pinned high against the wall. She tries to snap and tear at your neck. Want a taste? You feed your forearm deep into its mouth, teeth shattering on the metal guard hidden under the leather. As it howls, you throw it clear across the nest, shattering makeshift tables and bottles.
You straddle the vamp, pinning it's arms under your knees. The vampire shifts back to human face, a sallow faced brunette, and tries to beg. Pathetic.
"Lucky last." you slam the vampire's head against the floor by the hair. "You're my next contestant in a game I like to call 'Talky walky'. Winner gets a one way ticket out of Sunnydale. Loser gets one way ticket out into the sunlight. Are you ready for your first question?"
The vampire nods eagerly.
"Who killed The Slayer?"
"The… uh… Queen. The Blood Qu..." it says.
"Herself?" The vampire tries to nod, swallowing.
"Ten points. Now, where is she?"
"M… Masters... lair."
"Bonus round. Where is The Master's Lair?"
"I can't… they… they will…"
"I would be more worried about what I am going to do to you sweetheart."
"Either way… good… as… dead."
You smile and let the vampire's hair go, stroke it back in place. Straighten her collar.
"Not how I see it. I have no qualms about letting a toothless little bitch like you high tail it across the border, if it means I get what I want. It isn't even a moral dilemma for me. See, thing about Vampire Slayers? You kill one, a new one just pops up. Sometimes two. Sometimes more. And we're all different. Kennedy? She was the good one…" you slam the vampire's head on the floor with a wet crunch "Me? I'm more on the murkier side of grey."
You sink your stake into the ground next to the vampire's eye.
"By killing one of ours, all The Blood Queen did was poke the hornet's nest. And now all the Slayers are coming to town. Ain't gonna be pretty. Question is? You want be a loyal pile of dust, or do ya wanna be in Mexico, sucking down some Tequila laced tourists?"
"The D...docks. Pier 2. Warehouse 2."
"We have a winner." you say, releasing the whimpering vampire. You sprint out into the rain.
…
The thing is, torture is notoriously bad when it comes extracting information. People tell you just what they think you want to hear. And vampires are just like people, only more so. Sure enough from your vantage point, snugly tucked inside a nearby crypt, you can see the vampire chick limping from the nest. Satisfied that you took her bullshit about the warehouses by the docks, she heads east towards Sunnydale High.
There's a hill south of the school, jagged and overgrown. A unnamed graveyard, barely a dozen tombs stand, no church. No new burials, so not even part of your patrol. You remember the sunken church. It all fits. You take cover by a gnarled tree and watch as she limps up the hill.
She opens a gate in one of the unmarked tombs, and disappears inside.
Literally. The tomb is empty when you enter. Just an ornate stone coffin on a dias in the middle, and various shelves of earns and bones. Perfect. Her wet footprints lead to a wall. A wet and bloody handprint on a flagstone.
You rattle the can and spray a big love heart on the wall. No missing it this time.
"Got you."
You add a stake into the heart for good measure.
…
The stairway down is all too familiar. Cobwebs thickly line the walls, rock walls created by shearing stone. Here and there the rainwater trickles through, streaking the tunnel walls red and spiking the air with a sharp bitter smell. Along your route, piles of human bones clad in all manner of clothes. Victims. You tread carefully.
Voices guide you through the last, darkest part. Your Slayer senses working overdrive, eeking what little you can from the near darkness. Two vampires guard an iron gate, the girl cowers before them.
"The Slayer!" the girl's voice is a hiss, wet and toothless. "Another is here... already. But I tricked her… I know where she is heading. I must warn our Master."
"A mere fledgeling? You are unworthy. I shall take him your message. Where is The Slayer?"
Your arrow strikes his heart, answering his question. The hellfire lights the tunnel, guiding your second shot. An arrow to the throat won't kill a vamp, but it will silence any calls for backup. Your third arrow ends your snitch; thrashing as she burns. You walk to where the guard is pinned, frantically trying to pull your arrow from his neck.
"Lemme help you with that." you say, yanking the arrow out then burying it in his heart. He can barely scream as his burning limbs disintegrate and mingle with the smouldering ashes at your feet.
…
There are far too many of them. From your vantage point you can count at least fifteen, but there could be more in the darkness. Hard to see because of the pillar of moonlight slicing down throws your vision out. The gathered vampires' chanting sonorous, reverberating off the rock walls and smashed church arches. You hide as best you can at the top of a long, curving stair of stone and rock, hidden among thick black roots that worm their way through the cavern roof. The nearest vamp is at least twenty meters, plenty of time to fall back… but your back is exposed. And you hate it when your back is exposed. You notch your last good arrow.
From the Shadows, The Master steps into the light. Regal, confident, he gazes down on his subjects. His disfigured hairless head, turning smoothly, slowly, his red eyes challenging all. The Master raises his hands and silence falls. You can hear the creak of your bowstring. Your breathing feels too loud in your skull.
"And there will be a time of crisis, of worlds hanging in the balance. And in this time shall come the Anointed, the Master's great warrior... The Five will die, and from their ashes the Anointed shall rise." The master intones as if reading from a holy book. "The Brethren of Aurelius shall meet him and usher him to his immortal destiny. ...the Slayer will not know him, will not stop him, and he will lead her into Hell."
"Well" he says, making a casual sweep of one hand. "Mostly right. Monks are terribly naive, and many have never seen a woman, let alone seen one wear anything but skirts." he chuckles. "Rest assured, the prophecy is upon us."
From the shadows, an oily black figure emerges. Feminine, graceful, her face hidden with a featureless black mask. You feel your breath hitch and your heart begins to hammer, the tip of your arrow wavers.
The Master beckons The Queen and she stalks proudly forward, kneeling centerstage. The Master bites his thumb and raises it to her helmed head, and as he draws upon the helmet, the symbol glows red. Distant thunder shakes the cavern.
"Behold, The Anointed One. My greatest weapon. No more will we cower in the shadows, slaves to night, for she sees beyond our dark age, to the future most unholy, where the blood of man shall flow like wine into our cups.
"She shall bring forth a new Age of Aurelius. Cower before her, my children, and heed her."
The Blood Queen stands.
"As of this moment I will return to my torpor until the coming of the Harvest. Into the world you shape in my image. The Anointed One shall rule as Queen until I rise again."
This revelation sets the gathered vampires into chaos. Voices sound confused, some outraged, some in awe. You spy Darla to one side, glaring in disbelief at the scene unfolding.
"Rejoice, my dark children." the black distorted voice says, as she raises her arms. "For the New Age of Aurelius is upon us."
Roars fill the room.
You think of Kennedy and breathe slow.
Your arrow flies.
You hit her heart.
And the arrow shatters into a thousand splinters.
The Queen looks up at you, and wags her finger, as her minions begin to mount the stair.
You run.