Chapter 31
Severed
I am Alice. I am running after a white rabbit through a world of weird creatures, a mad hatter at my heels.
The trick or treating is in full swing and the streets of Sunnydale are packed with costumed mockeries of the dark things that have haunted my waking hours, but the only fear I feel is for my friend, for Willow. And I am running for her life.
Okay, so, I don't remember the details of Alice in Wonderland, but I am pretty sure she wasn't dressed as Wonder Woman carrying a battleaxe. And her mad hatter wasn't wearing a sombrero and carrying a chainsaw, but… shit…
The frat house is just like I remember it, the big two story affair practically hidden amongs a dense wall of well tended bushes and tall conifer trees. The doors and windows are shut. No, not shut… gone. Vanished, just like Anya had told us.
"The screaming. It's stopped." Anya says, as we reach the garden path leading up to the two story, wooden structure. Jack O' Lanterns grin light at us in the darkness. "The screaming stopped." She says, grabbing my arm, trying to convey her meaning. I already understood the implications.
"Willow is super capable, Anya, if she is…"
The sound of the chainsaw cuts me off from making a pathetic attempt at soothing her. It didn't even sound convincing in my head. I place my free hand over hers and squeeze.
Anya's story went like this. She and Willow had been at the Halloween party at Lowell House and Anya had gone to get them some fruit punch. When she returned, Willow had been talking to a boy. Anya felt a "possessive display" was in order and had put her arm around Willow and kissed her. The boy just lost it, started yelling at them and then ran upstairs. Willow had chased after him. A few moments later there were screams and bloodied, injured students had started running down the stairs. In the pandemonium, Anya had fled outside. Only, it seems Willow hadn't made it out. She tried to go back in but the doors and windows just collapsed in on themselves.
As we watch Giles cut a new door, I can feel it. That creeping sensation that sets your hairs standing on end. I look up at the sky. I look up at the full moon and I feel ice cold trickling through me.
It couldn't be Oz. He would never go out in a full moon. It couldn't be.
Could it?
My ears are ringing from the chainsaw as I step gingerly into the hall, and I feel even more exposed without my hearing. It is silent. Deathly, dead, silent.
I realise my grip on the battleaxe is too tight, remembering Giles's training… keep relaxed but firm, like you are holding a live bird. Not so loose to be disarmed, but not so tight to tire your hands. And of course, thinking about my axe reminds me it isn't silver. But that's okay, right? Because it isn't Oz. It cannot be Oz.
But…
No, shhhh brain.
But… if it was.
Shhh.
But if it was? Could you even swing? It's Oz, man.
"This appears to have been the foyer." Giles whispers.
"Yeah."I whisper back, pointing to the wall. "That was the door." The rectangle of wall is smooth and wallpapered over, as if nothing was ever there but wall. The old worn doormat set into a metal frame on the floor says otherwise. The floor is scuffed with bloodied footprints and littered with discarded drink cups. They stop at the skirting board, and as I get a closer look I see the edges of the dirt quivering slightly.
I prod my axe at the wall. A faint ripple emanates out, only noticeable by the wallpaper pattern.
Anya walks up boldly and vigorously rubs at the wall. She looks at her hand, which seems to quiver in a strange, fourth dimensional kind of way. A scowl.
"Not an illusion, a spatial translocation hex."
"In humble barkeep terms?" I say.
"This is a real wall. Real. See? But it doesn't belong here. It's from elsewhere, another place or time, or reality. It's been swapped out." She rubs her hand across the wall again.
"There, in the ripples." Giles says. "If you look carefully, you can see symbols".
"Oh see, that's just rude." Anya says. "A Gaelic demon ward. To keep us trapped. If I were still… you know… this would be rather more unpleasant for me."
"So it is a trap. To keep something supernatural inside." Giles offers.
"Great." I sigh, and look around. "The walls aren't the only change. There was a staircase there."
"We should stick together." Giles says. "It may change further."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, the fact the hole I cut in that wall is now a rather charming grandfather clock was my first hint."
"We're trapped." I groan.
"Well, I still have the chainsaw." Giles says. "Though the fuel is rather low. Before we cut another exit we should find Willow."
"So how do we do that in a big, creepy puzzle box house that may or may not contain a werewolf?"
Giles doesn't react to this. Clearly he had the same fears as I. Instead he just picks a doorway and leads on. Anya and I fall in step.
The boy hasn't been dead long. Judging from his size and smart attire, he was a resident of Lowell House. We find him in one of the winding, repeating corridors, slumped against the railing of what should have been the top of a staircase. His head and upper arms must have been on the staircase when it shuffled. The space where they should have been shimmers like when you glare at a light and look away. But whatever magicks did this didn't keep the circulation going. I found no pulse, could feel no breathing. He had soiled himself too, there is little dignity in death. I shook my head at my companions and stepped away from the body.
Finding the corpse just ate away my hopes of finding Willow even further. I felt my insides setting like concrete at the thought. As much as she had harmed me, as much pain as she caused, Willow had been my friend since Kindergarten and I felt like part of me was missing now she was cut from my life.
A sound is pricking at my attention. A muffled, ragged sniffling noise from behind us. My hackles up, I turn. Anya has heard it too, she is looking back down the corridor from which we just came. From around the corner, moonlight is shining in from a window we cannot find. This is so disorienting, and I feel dizzy. But the snuffling sound... well, it is phasing in and out, echoing, feeling close, and yet far. Where is it?
A hand grabs my arm. I nearly shit myself on the spot, but it's Giles. He is pointing to the wall behind us, only now it isn't a wall, it's a white painted door with a bloody hand print on the handle. The sound is definitely coming from within.
I ready my axe and nod to Giles, who slowly, cautiously edges towards the door. He reaches for the handle. He turns it.
The door swings open.
And what is revealed tears my heart to shreds.
