BAD BLOOD

A Buffy the Vampire Slayer story.

P.J. Dickinson

Part Three: Hell

Thirteen

Ondancetron sat on the top terrace of the pyramid puffing from a pipe. From the jungle before him came periodic flashes and horrendous squeals. Well at least someone was enjoying their job he thought.

"?"

"Yes I think it worked out quite well. I wasn't too sure what to do when I smelt the Slayer on the dead soldier but I had to do something. I couldn't just let an opportunity like that go."

"!"

"It worked out better than I could have hoped. He brought her to us and then returned to do her job for her. A conciliatory prize I believe it is called."

"?"

"No she didn't stay."

"?"

"I wasn't sure. It was too clouded, too many possible ways it could have gone. I'm sure it gave the Pluripotents quite a headache."

"?"

"She will be back. Not just any one. That one. She will return. I tried to tell her. I tried to explain to her that it is her own presence on earth that causes the imbalance she battles. She didn't listen. I think she thought that I was trying to con her in some way."

"!"

"Yes. You're right. I probably was a bit."

"!"

"Right well good to talk to you. Will I be seeing you again soon?"

"!"

"No? Right, the war and all that. Well I'd like to wish you luck but that would be kind of against my best interests so how about we just say goodbye?"

"!"

"Goodbye then."

Ondancetron watched the large orange squid float away and shook his head. Those heavenly types sure were an odd bunch he thought as the stench of charred Pnarwaidh wafted up from the jungle.