Disclaimer- Joss and the WB own the rights.
Summary- On Christmas Eve, what's a Jewish girl to do? Why, kick some big fat Santa ass, that's what! But can Willow and Tara really save Sunnydale and defeat Santa without losing the lives of their friends or each other?
Spoilers- Major Season 5 spoilage.
Rating- Hard R: Sex, gore, profanities, strong violence.
Feedback- Please?
Author's Notes- This is a horror story in case you didn't see the category I set it to. It's not a very nice story, though I think fans of Willow and Tara will like it.
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Santa and the Jew: A BtVS Christmas Story | by Donald P. Pike
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Chapter 4
26. Winter Wonderland (Riley's Out)
It wasn't the bitter chill running across his body that brought Riley Finn back to consciousness, nor was it the discomfort of being strung up by his hands and feet along a block of ice three times his size. No, it was the screaming around him that awoke the former soldier from the brutal hit on the head he had suffered.
His eyes fluttered open as another gust of hail slashed at his cheek and face. The first thing his brain comprehended was how completely white everything surrounding him was. Then objects began to form and Riley started observing other oddities of the environment. He thought for a moment that he was in Superman's hide-out as he examined the white rock faces and jagged cliffs that seemed to go on forever. Small dwarf-like people (that would have come to about his chest had he been on the ground) were everywhere performing various duties. Some were wheeling around wooden crates while others wore small white lab coats and carried clipboards. Still others adorned what looked to be security outfits that had small guns in their holsters.
Elves...
They must've been Santa's elves. Looking to his left and right Riley saw other elves, all wearing blue uniforms. They were tied up the same as he was. Well, he thought, it could be worse. We could be chained up here naked. A hot blast of air mingled unpleasantly with the freezing cold and for the first time Riley realized that somewhere nearby people were screaming in agony, and that had been the strange sound that had woken him up. He glanced downwards and had to force back the scream building up in his chest.
A chasm was directly beneath the rock he and the others were chained to. There was a small catwalk that must've been used to get them up there, but beyond that was a long drop straight into molten lava. It rolled and bubbled up, making the same sound he might imagine a pot of boiling water would as it coursed it's way around glowing red rocks and boulders. But it wasn't the lava that struck terror in his heart. It was the bodies and heads sticking out from the material, howling up at him. He couldn't make out the details of their faces nor even if they were male or female because of the distance, but he saw them down there. Struggling to move, no doubt desperate to end their miserable existences.
A large air bubble began to grow in part of the lava, then another. Riley was transfixed on the horrible sight below him as two red ears protruded from the mess, soon followed by a head and two eyes, pitch black surrounding burning napalm pupils. It dawned on Riley at this moment that he was situated directly above what it was Buffy battled every day of her life. The mouth of hell. Only he got the feeling that he wasn't in Sunnydale anymore.
The behemoth beneath him opened it's gaping maw, and darkness began to flow out of it like waves of oil, rising to the top of the glass. It didn't take long for his compatriots alongside him to begin screaming, pleading for death as the darkness flew towards them. Riley's life flashed before his eyes in a sort-of montage. The farm, his mother in a flower-pattern blue dress, Graham, basic training and the Initiative. Finally Buffy was there in his mind, naked save for the semi-transparent silk sheet flowing over her as she stared up at him, smiling. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and as the evil enveloped him, seeping into his body through his nose and mouth and the pores of his skin, Riley's final thought was how old she appeared if you looked into her eyes...
27. Jack Frost
Jack waved and gave a thumbs up to a few elves on their down-time, smoking cigarettes and playing cards around an ice covered table. They each gave him a withering look but he kept smiling, returning his gaze to the white path before him as he rolled the unconscious beauty on the stretcher to her holding cell.
He entered the small jail hallway (small because most captives were turned or killed immediately upon arrival, and very few were ever needed as ransom or the like) and grabbed a large ring of keys off of the admittance desk, which was deserted. The elf running the desk was probably one of the card-players he'd just seen.
She could have gone in any cell as every room was completely empty, but he chose the fourth room on the right as it was the largest and looked the most accommodating to her, with a urine and waste-hole that wasn't emitting any foul odors. Then again, he'd learned over the years of living here that elves were one of the few species that could truly claim their shit didn't stink. And they did...often.
The young goddess beneath him that Nicholas had referred to as 'Tara' groaned and opened her eyes, then slowly got up off the stretcher looking very dazed and confused. She put a hand on her temple and walked into the cell. He figured she was too out-of-it to realize what she was doing. The girl noticed him standing there and her eyes looked hopeful.
"Where's Willow?"
He frowned. He'd been expecting her to ask where she herself was. "Who?"
She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "You d-don't know Willow. Am I...am I dead?"
He chuckled and entered the cell, pushing the stretcher out of the way. "No, you're just a little off-put from the trip. The portal we entered has a rather nifty negative tempature shock absorber cast into it. Took us weeks to perfect it but you should be fine in a while. Your body is regulating itself with the help of the spell to adapt better than most humans would." He sat down next to her and straightened her sweater. "Pretty soon you won't even need this to warm you up." She looked down at his fingers as though they were foreign objects.
His smiled and put forth a hand. "I'm sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. My name's Jack Frost...perhaps you've heard of me?"
She looked even more confused now, shaking his hand. "The guy who nips at your nose?"
More than happy to elaborate about himself, Jack laughed. "Right, that's me. Only they don't portray me exactly right. I used to be an entity, just floating around bringing snow and cold weather to various places on Christmas Eve. Then The Powers That Be decided I was creating to much of a 'problem'", he emphasized this by making quotation marks with his fingers, "So they made me into a Recurring Single-Being Entity. That means I'm basically human; I eat, sleep, drink and die after about eighty years but unlike other humans I'm reborn every time looking the exact same, will all my memories intact. I'm also born here in the North Pole; I don't have to go through that whole messy birth procedure. Unfortunately, I can only bring snow to one town every Christmas now, which really sucks."
She stared back at him. "Oh."
"...And what's your name?"
"Tara."
He nodded, happy to hear this. "Good, good. At least he told me the truth about that."
"H-he who?"
"Hmm? Oh, my buddy Nicholas. Well, I should say ex-buddy. Get this, he tried to tell me, me of all people, that you were impure. As if I couldn't tell otherwise."
She frowned. "What?"
"Impure, tainted. You know, not a virgin. But you can't just tell Jack that a girl isn't a virgin, Jack knows if a girl has been touched in that special way before." He ran a hand along her hair. "And you, my lovely girl, have most definitely not been touched. I can't sense a single man on you."
She blushed furiously then, but Jack smiled and put a finger over her lips as she was about to say something. No doubt, she was going to tell him of all the men she had been with. She was even more beautiful when she was embarrassed.
"It's all right, you don't have to protect your pride with me. The human libido is something fragile, I get that. Just let me tell you, one night with me and you'll never have to think about this again. I'm the Casanova of Ice, baby, I'm the flame and the freeze all at once. It doesn't get any better than Jack." With this said, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips, her skin so soft and warm compared to his own. When she opened her mouth he backed away, shaking his finger at her, about to tell her to wait with the tongue until they were in a more suitable time and place. But she had this strangest face, like she'd just found a roach in her soup. Also, her hands were in the air as though she were about to push him away.
This was undoubtedly not the desired effect of a kiss from the Jack Frost, but he took it in stride, just like everything else. She was simply surprised by the fact that he could know so much about her, see so deeply into her soul.
"Listen," he said, rising from the bed. "I'm going to have to lock you up for a little while so I can go get you off the hook. We're having this big sacrifice soon and your name's on the participant's list, so I'm gonna have to convince them it should be on the guest list instead."
She swallowed, looking very nervous now. "Sacrifice?"
He nodded. "Yeah, we're going to open the pits of hell tonight and we need some impure human blood to do it with. People think virgin blood is so much better, but it really isn't. In any case, after I've done that and a few other things, I've got this great ride, a private jet. Enchanted baby, it can go anywhere, any time. No fuel necessary. So you and I can cruise for a few weeks while I get my campaign going."
She was starting to appear as though she was going through an information overload. "Campaign?"
"Yeah, unfortunately I don't have time to go into detail on that subject as of right now. But I promise, give me twenty-five minutes and I'm all yours, beautiful." Jack turned to leave before remembering something and sliding back to her, pulling a button out from his pocket and pinning it gently onto her sweater. "And yes, you'll be all mine too. I'm your number one guy, remember that." Winking at her devilishly, Jack returned to the cell door and closed it, pulling out the keys to lock it in place.
"Oh, and the vents come on every half hour to, you know, air out the place. So don't get scared by the noise." He waved at her and blew a kiss before walking back to the desk and filling in what time she had arrived. God was he falling for her! And he could tell, she dug him too.
Back in the cell, unsure of what to think about what had just happened, Tara pulled off the pin and examined it. It had Jack on it, smiling handsomely and giving a double thumbs-up. In red and white writing was the insert, 'Jack Frost, Leader of the World. You're #1 Guy!'
28. Delivery
Sethiroph entered the chamber of the ice-labyrinth, his feet echoing hollowly until he stopped before the red crystal and lowered the sleeping form of Dawn onto the pedestal underneath it. From somewhere nearby a stream burbled quietly.
"My lord, I give you the Key."
Diablo appeared in the crystal, his heavy breathing running along the walls. His monstrous face filled the crystal shard, his lifeless eyes of fire watching Sethiroph. "Good..." His deep voice rumbled.
"Jeneva's dead..."
"That is of no importance to me."
"Yeah-umm, nor is it to me, sir. I was simply explaining her lack of presence."
The demon lord was quiet for a moment. "Is everything ready?"
Sethiroph nodded, stepping forward and braving the crystal. "It will be shortly...sir. Mr. Frost and the fa-", he stumbled, stopping himself from showing his disrespect, "Fa-Father Christmas have arrived and are performing certain duties before gracing your presence."
"What duties?"
"Uh, Nicholas stated to me that he was going to make use of the boy we brought with us and Jack should be here any moment with the sacrifice."
"And the artifact?"
The fairy-elf grinned, his ears perking up. Easy questions made for simple answers, which made him look good. And after tonight, it would be important to look good in front of Diablo. "Jack has the stone as well, sir."
Though it was hard to tell, the demon below began to grin, his teeth (each as big as a mini van) splayed widely. "Excellent..." The sound of his laughing could then be heard throughout all floors of the labyrinth.
29. Baringold's Army
The whistle blew in the weapons loading area, signaling break time for those working inside.
"Oy, I'm dead on my feet." One elf rested his back against a large crate as the other exited, pulling out a pack of Keebler's Cigarettes and shaking the plastic until one such stick popped out. Putting it in his lips, he struck a match on the rough skin of his ear and lit the cigarette, taking a heavy drag and passing it to his co-worker, who also had his back on the box.
"I know," the other elf grumbled, "All I wanted was to be off toy detail, I had no idea I'd wind up hauling crates for the big man."
The first shrugged. "Eh, it's a living. Hey, did you see the hot chick human gettin' wheeled around before?"
"By who?"
"That creep Frost."
The second shook his head. "Huh-uh, I make it a personal goal to stay away from him. But what about this female?"
"Oh, what a hottie. I swear, take off a few feet, lengthen the ears, I'd give it to her." He made a spanking motion in the air while thrusting his pelvis out. "Ah yeah, just like that."
The co-worker grinned. "Yeah, I considered going for a human once. It's just that they act so above us. I mean, we're at the top of the world."
Taking a long drag, the first elf nodded. "Yeah, and our shit don't stink."
"Word."
"Word." They slipped the skins of their palms together.
Something clattered to the ground behind the crate, making both elves jump from fright.
"What the hell was that?"
"Beats me, but I ain't checkin' it out. I still got fifteen minutes left, no way I'm getting my ass kicked off the clock."
"Straight, let's book. I wanna see if my exploding Viktor Krum doll has found a home yet."
They left the weapons loading area, leaving behind the equipment they had been using. Once she heard the large-size door screeching closed behind them, Willow appeared out from behind the crate, examining the rest of the room. She had been beginning to think they would never leave.
The room was very massive, as were all of the loading rooms she had seen while sneaking around. She had been expecting to be caught freezing to death, but to her surprise after she had woken up at the other end of the portal, no one was around and she continued to get warmer. Had the elves been talking about Tara?
"Not a good idea walking around like this." A high-pitched voice called out behind her.
Weaponless, Willow put her hands in the air and turned. An elf in a blue uniform stared back at her as he stood atop one of the many large crates. "They might catch you," he said, jumping from the box, "and believe me, you wouldn't want that."
Willow frowned. "What do you mean 'they'?"
"Them, the other elves." He sighed, looking at her impatiently. He was a handsome elf, a nice wave of blonde hair running down his back and a few strands across his face. He looked the true figure of authority and virtue, for an elf. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Willow shook her head. "No, I'm from Sunnydale."
"Ah, the key to this place. They should probably keep that portal better guarded. What can I say, welcome to the North Pole. You're deep in the center of Mount Teufel, where Santa Claus creates his evil monstrosities. If you're wondering what Teufel-"
Willow cut him off as they continued to walk towards each other. "It's german for Devil, I know."
"Of course you do. My question is, why aren't you asleep with the rest of the humans?"
Willow shrugged. "I don't exactly know. My question is, why aren't you out with all of the other elves?"
He smiled. "I'm not with them because they work for evil. My people are as we speak gearing up at every exit and entrance to this place. A few of our spies were caught finding out the location of this place and I came to help them." He spread his hands out, a sad look on his face. "Alas, I could not save them. They are now on the side of evil as well, and there is nothing I can do for them."
By now they were talking in normal tones, only a few feet between them. "So you're going to attack this place?"
He nodded solemnly. "Yes. We aren't exactly sure what they're planning on doing, but our elven brethren and Mr. Kringle will be stopped tonight, before they destroy the world."
Willow put out her hand. "Well, I'm looking for my friends. I'll help you take him down if you help me."
He looked at her hand, but didn't take it. "Why should I?"
She smiled. "You said it yourself. There has to be some reason why I'm not asleep like the rest of my species."
He grinned, shaking her hand. "My name is Baringold. How can I help you?"
"I'm Willow. You can start by helping me find-"
"The girl? The one those simpletons were speaking of?"
Willow nodded again hopefully.
"I saw her. I think Frost was taking her to the jails. Follow me."
They walked over to the crate the workers had been by, and as Baringold grabbed a crowbar he signaled for Willow to do the same. She picked one up and at both sides, it took a matter of moments for the side to fall off the crate. Willow stood back, shocked. Weapons of all varieties were placed precariously inside, along with ammo. After a second of searching Baringold took out a quicksilver bow and arrow. She noted that he already had a quiver strapped on his back that held a few arrows, but he replenished his supply.
Willow on the other hand was more interested in the two silenced pistols of an unknown elven make (so they were a bit small in her hand) and a larger gun that she quickly found (the hard way) to be a mini blow torch. After stamping out the fire the two observed each other.
"We don't have enough time to find your friend first, but I know this place better than you. I'll take you to the War Room so that we'll both see what they're up to, then we'll split up after that."
Willow nodded and walked with him to the large-sized door. But after this he stopped, smiling grimly down at his watch. Willow tapped her foot nervously.
"What are we waiting for?"
He put a finger up without looking at her. "Attack. It will be much easier for us to get around unnoticed in the confusion."
*
At every entrance, just as Baringold had said, there stood his army. Loaded with weapons ranging from standard issue bow and arrow to a new prototype known as a laser pistol, which used the energy surrounding the gun to create ammo. They had each camouflaged themselves in snow-coats, lining up along the walls and ground.
Holding their breath in anticipation for what they knew would be the most important battle of their lives, the Liberation Elf Army counted down in their heads.
And then it was time.
*
"Now," Baringold said, pulling up the large door to what seconds later was a scene of utter chaos.
30. Enter the Heroes
Spike looked down at the sleeping form of Xander and reached out a foot, nudging the young man. When he didn't respond Spike kicked him harshly in the gut, smiling as Xander cried out and rolled over. The British vampire rested his long double-barreled shotgun on his shoulder, observing Xander as he struggled to regain his breath and attack Spike at the same time.
"Can we get on with this or what?"
"Why'd you kick me?"
"You wanted me to come along, I came. I'm not waiting on you while you get your beauty sleep. Now get up and let's kick some jolly red-man ass!"
Xander warily got to his feet, looking around them as his breath plumed in steam. Spike's of course, did not. "Where are we?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "We're in Connecticut. Where do you think we are, addle-brain? The North Pole, Saint Nick's place of residence."
"Oh, right." Xander stooped down and picked up his Uzi off of the floor where it had landed, then checked to make sure his sawed-off was still stuck in it's holster along his back, which he had purchased from the armory shop. Well, purchased in the way you break a door, take stuff and stick all the cash in your wallet inside the register.
Both men had bullets draped along their chests Rambo-style.
Spike shook his head. "Why am I doing this again?"
Xander crept passed him and examined the frozen hallway. "Because if you ever want to experience the joy of an all-you-can-eat buffet when the Blood Bank delivery truck arrives again, you're going to have to give me a hand here."
Suddenly a small man with pointy ears in a lab coat came running down the hallway towards them. When he noticed they were there, he kept running but pulled out a small pistol and aimed it at them.
Spike pumped his shotgun and blew the man off his feet, dark red blood splattering the walls around his twitching body. Xander nodded appraisingly when two more of the strange men (this time in blue) appeared at the end, bows loaded. Xander brought up the Uzi to waist level and opened fire, the two dancing crazily as bullets punctured their arteries and life-liquid exited their bodies in dozens of tiny holes.
When all was quiet Spike patted Xander on the back roughly. "I might enjoy this after all."
They ran to the end of the hallway, inspecting the bodies.
"Oh my god," Xander said. "They're elves!"
"Yeah, well it makes no difference to me. Point is, they're demons, I can kill them, let's go kill them some more."
Xander nodded and grinned as he heard screaming and gunfire up ahead. Turning back to Spike, he gave a him a warning look. "Remember, we're here to find Dawn, Willow and the others. Don't get side-tracked."
Spiked hopped up and down, clearly agitated. "Got it, got it."
"Okay. Let's go." They picked up speed and were once again running down the hall at top speed, brandishing their weapons. Spike turned the corner first, crashing straight into another scientist-type. The elf fell to the ground, looking up at Spike with obvious fear in his eyes. Spike pumped the shotgun and brought it up to the elf's head. Xander saw this and continued running down another hallway, mapping out the place in his mind.
"P-please, don't kill me!" The small creature said, sweating bullets.
Spike looked down at his vest pocket and noticed a small rectangular packet. He nudged it with the gun. "What this, mate? Cigs?"
"Huh?" The elf looked down, confused. "Oh, yes, YES!" He pulled out the pack with a quivering hand and offered them to Spike.
The vampire took the package and released one small cigarette. "Got a light?"
The elf did, pulling out an odd looking brass cylinder. Spike took it and pressed the button, then grinned at the flame coming from the other end. He lit the stick and sucked in the toxic nicotine. "Not bad...kinda sharp."
"S-so you'll let me live?"
Spike ignored the scientist and continued on his way, enjoying the cigarette more than he had admitted.
"Merry Christmas, half-breed." The elf said, now very cheerful.
Spike stopped then and turned around. There probably wasn't a worse term for vampire in the books. "Ho-ho-ho," said, and discharged two more bullets into the small creature. He was liking this, a lot.
31. Contentions and Contrivances
"You what?"
"I locked her up, we're not going to sacrifice her."
Kristopher slammed his large fist into a stalagmite hanging from the wall so viciously that it left a smear of his dead skin and a bit of muddy looking fluid Jack could only guess had once been blood. Sethiroph meanwhile, stood by the red crystal (Diablo was not present inside of it at the moment) and the still sleeping form of Dawn.
Kris pointed a finger at Jack, who could see the anger in his one dead-gray eye. "We certainly will use her, we have no one else!"
"What about the guy, Finn?"
"I got rid of him, along with the blue spies the guards discovered."
Jack threw his hands in the air. "Oh, that's great Nick, good foresight on your part! I told you I wanted the girl-"
"And I told you she was tainted!"
"You're LYING TO ME..." Jack breathed in and out in slow paces, trying to calm himself, "Not a man has touched her."
Kristopher stared at him for a moment before shaking his head; his sharp, rotten teeth gleaming as his mouth opened a bit to release some spittle and drool. It rolled down his flaking blue chin and disappeared in his wild gray mane.
Jack took this as the face of someone caught in a lie. "What, did you think I wouldn't know? This is me, Jack Fucking FROST! You've known me for god-only-knows how-"
A howl resounded through the walls of the cavern, quieting everything inside. Soon afterwards Diablo's face appeared in the crystal. His eyes seem focused on Jack. "Do not use that name while in my presence."
Jack blushed slightly and stepped a few feet back from the crystal, looking down. "Of course, my lord."
"I do not want this girl...Tara. The Key will suit our purposes," Diablo rumbled.
Sethiroph frowned. "But she's pure, no? She's light itself, sir."
"Yes...but her humanity betrays her...she has had thoughts of a most impure nature, she reeks of sexual frustration. Now that she is here, she no longer holds back the gates of hell, and it seems fitting to me that the one thing keeping the world and its people from the destruction of my wrath is the one that serves it to them on a dish they'll gladly eat off of."
Jack grinned. "That's where I come in."
"Yes, once my minions have covered the farthest reaches of this earth, you will help the humans from the ashes, show them that following you is following me, and that that is a good and righteous thing."
Jack nodded. "Right. After what terror you will reek upon them, they'll be eating from the palm of my hand."
Diablo's face turned upon Sethiroph. "You shall be his first in command. You shall give upon the people what they need in exchange for their undying and never-ending loyalty to me, lest they be struck down to the pits of the darkest of hell for all of eternity."
Sethiroph nodded as well, pride filling his veins. "I will, sir.
Finally he looked at Santa, whose haggard appearance did not faze the demon-lord. "At the rise of recent developments, you are of no more use to me. Your service upon my throne has ended, and you shall leave this place at the strike of the first dawn of my reign, with the ever-lasting promise that you shall remain among my people for all of your existence."
Nicholas did not move a muscle, but instead stared at the demon in the crystal. There was no need for a word more to be spoken between them. Kringle had just received his own Christmas present, one he had been anticipating for over three centuries now. Retirement.
"My servants, let us begin."
Just then a sound of rushing feet and heavy breathing alerted them to the presence of another, running down the corridor. It drowned out the sound of the stream close to them, somewhere beyond the crystal's reflection. A lab elf popped through not much later, perspiration covering his face and an arrow protruding from his shoulder. Diablo, not to be bothered by such a lowly being, his task completed; faded from the crystal.
Sethiroph's eyes narrowed and his brows rose in curiosity. "What's the meaning of this intrusion, Ensign Depros?"
He saluted the blue fairy/elf, not giving himself time to catch his breath. "Commander Seth, The Liberation Elves are attacking. We are pushing them back but experiencing heavy losses."
Sethiroph breathed in slowly for moment before saluting back. "Go to Security Control and wait for me, Ensign Depros."
"Yes sir, Commander." The elf nodded, saluting to his superior, then noticed Jack and Santa also staring at him. His gaze lingered on the large red-suited man as he bowed respectively to him, trying not to show his shock at the loss of his eyeball. "Best wishes, Senior Claus." He looked back at Jack and it was quite obvious that he was forcing himself to suppress a sneer. "Mister Frost." He did a quick half-bow, nodded to Sethiroph again and left the room, his elven shoes squeaking as he went and small trails of blood dripping down behind him.
32. The War Room
The War Room at first glance looked the same as many others in the hollow mountain. Charts and graphs were stuck to the ice walls, chairs desks were inside cubicles spanning around the majority of the room, and unless they were on break, there was a plethora of elves milling around. Except that in the War Room no one was ever on break to leave the room empty. Any elf who left was immediately replaced by another. Also, the room was high security and protocol was much stricter here, a mishap punished by isolation or death.
"Okay, you see the guards patrolling outside?"
"Hang on." Willow crawled around to the other side of the bunker truck they were hiding in, then looked out of the partially frozen sheet of glass Baringold was. "Yes."
"We'll have to take them out. It won't be long after that before security is alerted to our presence, but with all the chaos around we should be able to get in and back out before they arrive."
Willow looked around her for anything that might create a good enough diversion for them to get a better shot at the guards. The driver of the bunker truck (which was positioned about two dozen yards from the entrance of the W. Room) was slumped over the steering wheel, a bullet hole in the side of his head. Willow found it was much less of a morale dilemma to kill when the people she loved were being kidnapped and slaughtered themselves.
Baringold was still talking. "-and another four guards should be on the right, if it's the same as it was last month. The major thing you'll have to remember is that there's nothing in the file cabinets we can use, the plans should be on the walls around us, so don't go shooting off to much."
A thought struck Willow, and she pulled out one of her silenced pistols. Baringold saw this and looked at her warily. "What are you doing?"
"Checking something out."
With that Willow aimed the gun at a nearby wall of the truck and pulled the trigger. Instead of shooting through it bounced off, crazily zinging off the narrow walls around them. The elf screeched and jumped on top of her, his eyes shut in anticipation for the end. But eventually the bullet lost enough momentum to glance off of a metal bunker and fall to the floor.
When they rose back up Baringold grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wild. "Are you crazy?"
Willow shook her head. "I was checking to see if the walls were bullet proof."
"Oh great, that would have been very useful to us had it punctured one of the canisters." He pointed to the bunker the bullet bounced off of.
The red-head frowned. "Why?"
"Do you know what's in them?"
She shook her head again.
"Fuel! This is a truck supplying fuel to the area." He said in a harsh whisper. "There wouldn't have been enough of us left to scrape off of the walls, you entwa'gina!"
Willow ignored what she was sure was an inflammatory comment and considered what he'd said about the fuel drums. "Baringold, is there any other way out of the War Room?"
He stopped insulting her and thought for a moment. "Yes, but it isn't very wise to use it."
Willow shrugged, tugging out a crossbow from his quiver. He noticed but didn't stop her. "We're out of wise options, what's the exit?"
He sighed, leaning against the door and observing Willow as she examined one of the bunkers. "The air vents. The come on about every half hour. They're fairly easy to navigate as long as you know your way around don't get sucked into any of the fans."
She smiled, her pert nose flushed slightly from the idea forming in her mind. "Sounds good to me."
*
"You ready, Bar?"
The elf shook his head, his cream-colored skin a bit redder then usual. "No, but let's do this any way."
"Okay." She turned the ignition, the seat a bit small even for her. She was forced to hunch over to get a full view of the area around her as she pulled out the vehicle in reverse, then turned until she was facing the entrance of the War Room. The two elves in brown guarding the door were each now at their posts, no longer pacing in between each other. They both wore tiny red hats on their heads, looking a little out of place next to the mini-Uzi's in their hands.
She suddenly shot the truck forward, her foot slammed completely against the pedal. The two elves came out of their slightly dazed states and glanced at each other worriedly. One then called into the room behind him while the other stepped forward, waving his hand at the truck to stop. When it didn't, only ten yards away they both lifted their guns and opened fire on the metal heap, it's windshield scarring and cracking slightly but never breaking. Small lights of friction and fire blazed off of the metal as bullets pelted the truck, but nothing was stopping it. The guards realized their dilemma to late, each trying to get out of the way was Willow pressed on the breaks, fish-tailing the car so it was at it's side when it slammed in to the entrance of the room, both elves crushed between it.
Willow looked over at Baringold and grinned, pulling out her two pistols and shaking her back to make sure the flame thrower was still attached to the inside lining of her denim jacket. The elf leader smiled back, the sick look leaving his face a bit as her plan seemed to be working. She waited for his approval, and when he nodded she opened her side of the door, hopping down and raising a foot in the air. She kicked forward and the door busted in, the surprised look of elves all around her. She wanted to grin with pride for herself but didn't have the time, instead bringing her guns up to face level and pulling the triggers.
The first few bullets hit their targets, blood and brains spraying from the tiny creatures as they stood in place, still shocked at the abrupt entrance. But soon afterwards her kill rate began to dwindle as the scientists began to hide and the officers and armed guards began to load up themselves, raising their weapons in retaliation. Also, Willow's aim wasn't that spectacular. She'd had to shoot down Oz more than once with the large-size tranquilizer gun, but that seemed to encompass her training in weaponry.
She jumped out of sight between two cubicles as the guards fired their own weapons, bullets tearing through the thin walls above her. Meanwhile, as Willow continued to keep the heat concentrated on her own person, Baringold was sharp-shooting the high-up personnel surrounding the planning area, and he could already see maps and plans along the table. They looked about in panic for where the killer was, but Bar was a professional and constantly moved, choosing only the best spots to take them down at. Before he could get him lined within the site of his bow and arrow one of the elves grabbed a blueprint of some sort and disappeared behind a wooden door to the left.
Willow was still busy in gunplay with her own enemies, four security elves at the right and another two at the left. Willow waited until she heard nothing from the right side and peered over quickly catching three of them reloading while another had been waiting for her. He raised his gun but she fired first, putting him and the elf next to him down for the count. That meant two were now on either side. But she didn't have much time to think as the cubicle she was leaning against collapsed on top of her, bullets shooting their way through.
The guards saw blood spilling through the holes and breathed out sighs of relief. One even laughed in a high voice and punched his buddy in the arm. Suddenly Willow blasted through the mess of plaster and ice, the small blowtorch now in her hands. She pulled against the release, flame erupting from the spout and the four elves screaming as they were shrouded in the fire. She quickly let go of the release and put the weapon back behind her, picking up her two guns from the rubble and examining her wounds. Had enough of them hit she would have been killed, but only two had gotten her, both piercing the side of her waist, the exit holes leaving larger marks then the entrances. They hurt like hell but she'd heal quickly.
"Willow, over here!" Baringold called out, waving her over. She glanced to either side authoritatively, noticing in satisfaction that the guards were dead and the scientists and workers were cowering. She jogged, slightly hunched from the bullet wounds, over to where her compatriot was. He looked genuinely frightened and exhilarated at the same time as she stepped in between the arrow-riddled bodies of the elves he'd taken out.
"It's an invasion! They're going to release Diablo from his pit and then they're going to storm out of the hellmouth. Look here." He pointed to certain spots and on the map of the word displayed along the table. Arrows and lines showed where the armies would head, while others showed trajectory points of capture. But Baringold was pointing out small buildings. "You see these structures here? They're temples, Willow, temples that worship the demon-lord Diablo and I'm guessing are going to act as mini-hellmouths. While the main attack seems to come from your Sunnydale, the temples will also be points of exit. They've been placed in small, unknown countries, amazons. I guess while the world is focused on Sunnydale the invasion team will sneak up behind."
Willow nodded in understanding, but frowned. "Okay, so what? What are they invading, Bar? Do they really think that elves are going to do the trick?"
He shook his head. "No, they're going to use something else. One of the scientists ran off with a layout before I could take him down."
She looked up at him. "I thought you said there was nowhere to go?"
He shrugged and pointed to the door to the left. "They've put in an exit since I was last here."
A voice called out from behind the truck. "Teufel Personnel, we're moving in! Step away from the door and put your hands up!"
"It's time; get to the other door, see if we can use it."
Baringold nodded and tossed an arrow to Willow as they split in different directions, Willow heading for the truck and Baringold already at the door.
The witch jumped through the door of the bunker truck, spotting the security on the other side, getting ready to push it out of the way. Quickly she moved to the back, twisting open the cap of a drum and sticking the the wooden arrow inside. Once again pulling out Riley's lighter she lit the tip of the wood and her eyes widened as she saw how fast the flame moved. Moving back to the front she jumped out of the truck entrance, stuffing the metal lighter back in her pocket. An officer saw her and threw open the passenger side door, firing his gun at her.
But Willow was already out of the way, careening down the aisles of cubicles and hiding elves who fired their own guns at her as she passed, with Baringold signaling for her to hurry. The truck blew behind her, screams of the guards and cubicle workers drowned out by the roar of the explosion, plaster blowing up as it neared the running figure of Willow. She reached the door and slammed it shut, but as the fire reached them it blew the door off of it's freezing hinges, throwing Willow to the ground nearby.
Baringold helped her pick herself up and dusted her off. She shook the debris and dust out of her shoulder-length hair and looked at Baringold expectantly, breathing heavily. "So...now what?"
Bar nodded and pulled out a map of Teufel he'd taken off of the table. "This is a layout of the lower levels." He said as they slid into an icy nook away from the remains of the War Room. "They've been doing some construction work, as you can probably see. A lot of the rooms aren't completed. But above that level is the jail. That's where you'll find you're girl."
Nodding, she pointed to a particularly large room. "What's this?"
"Don't know for sure. I'm betting it's where they're keeping the invasion team."
Sighing and pressing her jacket against her two adjacent wounds, Willow motioned for them move. Without a word more they began to run down the halls, screams and sounds of bullets coming closer as Baringold's brethren pressed inwards.
33. Alert
Sethiroph opened the door to Security Control and glanced around, spotting the ensign waiting patiently for him at the main terminal. He hadn't even taken care of his wound yet, the arrow still there for a fear of blood loss if removed. Other elves sat in festive colors, each at a black monitor observing the battle from various angles and positions. If and when they saw weak spots in the formations where Liberation Elves were leaking through they would call in reinforcements to that area. The soothing hum of all the machinery was music to the Commander's ears.
The two personal saluted each other.
"What's the situation, Depros?" Sethiroph asked, losing the titles as present company was only him and a lower officer.
"Not good, sir. They continue to batter at our defenses while pouring in through broken fans in the ventilation systems. We've turned on the still-operable fans and that's seemed to have taken care of the problem, but we're losing a lot of our forces. Sir." The elf seemed out of breath and a bit fazed.
Sethiroph nodded. "Okay, retreat."
Ensign Depros' eyes widened in shock and he swallowed, but nonetheless only said, "Yes sir, Commander."
The fairy/elf smiled. "Have them lead the opposition to the weaponry storage, we just got some more deliveries today. They won't know what hit them."
Depros nodded, grinning. "Yes sir."
As he saluted and moved to leave Seth caught him by the shoulder. "Oh and go to the medic with that thing after sending out the orders."
Once he'd gone Sethiroph whooped in the air. He was a being of a respectable nature, and had to act that way when in the company of others who mattered even in the slightest bit, but he loved to tear lose every once in a while. Jeneva had been clean and thorough, taking every job with the same enthusiasm as her last, basically none. Tonight's mission had been killer. He'd gotten to take the form of two people, the revenge demon and the guardian watching the Key. Now he was itching to pop someone else, to enter the fray and take them all out kicking and screaming.
His bloodlust rose and it was decided, he'd go down to the entrances and fight along side the elves who had so loyally followed him and his sister. At a thought he walked over to one of the control panels that was keeping track of the chasm. The darkness had disappeared and the bodies were no longer strapped up. He took the transistor mike and switched it on. He wanted to test out the new recruits...
34. Winter Wonderland (The Next Escape)
Tara sighed, looking around the white cell room as she laid upon the bed. She reached out a hand and gracefully ran her fingers down the ice and rock. Outside she could hear the distant sound of fighting, but she hadn't really noticed it until someone had run into the room and told the small elf (she couldn't believe it when she saw him, a real elf sitting there) guarding the jails that there was a battle and they needed him.
So now she was all alone. Her mind wandered to what Willow was doing right now. Tara hadn't the slightest idea how she'd wound up here or even if she'd live through the night, though she felt that she could trust Jack to his word. He seemed completely and tragically infatuated with her, which she had to admit was nice despite the fact that she loved women (and only one woman at that) and he wanted to open up the gates of hell and rule the world. But at the moment she was really missing Willow. Tara knew her smell and could easily imagine running her fingers through her hair, but she didn't know if she'd ever even see her love again.
Something roared to life underneath her, causing Tara to yelp and jump off of the bed. A steady flow of air now rushed up and around the room, running against the bed blocking it's route. Tara realized that there was a vent underneath the bed, one of the vents Jack had mentioned. For some reason she couldn't explain she got to her feet and put a hand on either side of the bed, pulling it away from the wall and fully uncovering the grill beneath.
Examining it, she noted that the opening was blocked by the grill, which was placed down by four screws. A quick tug with her nails proved useless, the screws were in too tight. She hit the vent in frustration and as a result Jack's pin fell off her sweater, hitting the grill.
She stared down at the pin for a second and smiled.
*
Minutes later she tossed the pin aside, it's sharp point now blunted and bent beyond use (not that she'd wear it again anyway) and hooked her fingers into the slats of the vent, lifting it open. She could see gray walls in the narrow space and some white snow here and there. Looking closer at the snow she saw that it was quickly being pulled to the left, meaning that it would be treacherous for her to lose her grip or slip if she were to traverse the ventilation shaft. But she had no other choice.
Dipping into the shaft, she held her breath, immediately feeling the pull of the fans grasp somewhere beyond in the darkness. She decided to go in the opposite direction direction of the fan, to the right, as she would try to find her way out of this place. Pulling the vent closed behind her, she grimaced as the shaft's walls hugged tightly at her hips. One thing Willow constantly was saying to her was that she loved the width of her hips, but this was one of many instances in which Tara wished she had Willow's small, light frame.
Ignoring that which could not be helped, Tara pulled herself onwards down the darkness of the shaft, hoping she wasn't heading straight into the path of a fan too large to get away from.
35. Parting Ways
"Bar, hurry!" Willow shouted from the other side of the room. She had no idea that anyone would be firing lasers, and as blue lightening streaked crazily, melting the ice around them, Willow prayed that she wouldn't be blind-sided by a ray while waiting for Baringold to run across the room. She wasn't and soon afterwards the elf stood before her, his muscles bunched beneath his small blue bodysuit/uniform and his long hair disheveled.
"What now?" She asked as they continued trotting down the hallway.
He breathed heavily and checked the map, then looked back up at her. They now stood at an intersection of sorts. One stairwell directly north, corridors in every other cardinal direction. "This is it. To the left and down to what should be the invasion room or up and to the right to the jail."
Willow swallowed, looking up and nodding. She took a step forward but Baringold grabbed her shoulder. "I have a better idea."
She frowned and looked back at him. "What do you mean? There isn't much time left-"
"Exactly," he said, and she could see the fire in his eyes. "That's why you have to go down."
Her eyes widened. "What?!"
"You have to go down, I'll get your girl, Tara was her name?"
"Yes, but-"
He tightened his grip. "Please! I'm no match for whatever's down there, I'll take the girl to the outside, guard her with my life. But I can't take the pressure Willow, it's too much and I'm...I'm not you."
He let her go and she stepped backwards, stunned. "I-I, I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll do it, Willow, tell me you'll save the world. I'd go down there with you but as you said there is not much time and that means one of us must save Tara."
Willow looked up again, torn between having a chance to stop the invasion and finding Tara. She trusted Baringold, but...
She shook her head. "I can't, I'm sorry-"
"NO, you must! I understand, there is something between you and this girl, but say you do find her, and I go down there, killing myself. Then you'll have but few precious moments left with each other before everything comes crashing down, when instead you could put your faith in me to get her out there and stop the invasion yourself so that you'll be able to spend however much longer you would wish with her!" He stepped up to her, desperation tight in his aura. "Think in days, Willow, not in hours. Think in life, not in moments. Your decision is your decision, but it will not only determine the outcome of your own relationship and your own life, but that of every other being on this planet! Willow, please...think in life!"
Willow bit her lip, her eyes locking on the stairwell leading up. She could only be so far away from her...
"Seconds girl, they pass by us quickly!"
Something flashed in Willow's brain and she stepped up to the elf, looking down into his eyes. "If she dies in here, so will you."
He nodded, an uneasy grin playing on his face. "As I am not planning on dying today, she will live."
Willow took off, not looking back, the bulge in her pockets and the back of her denim jacket only showing that on the outside, this frail looking girl had changed in what she kept in her attire, when the real transformation was growing from within, from the scars on her hands to the bullet wounds in the side of her midsection; the true girl inside was not and never would be the same. Baringold smiled, wishing her luck silently before heading up the staircase.
36. The Loading Dock
Xander's breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled get another clip from his back pocket while keeping hold of the Uzi, which he was playing tug-of-war with between himself and two security elves. Meanwhile, he could hear Spike somewhere behind him, blowing away elf after elf.
"Spike!" He called out. "A little help here?"
But the English vampire didn't hear him in his trigger-happy state. One of the elves trying to get Xander's gun nodded to the other, and they both let go at the same time, causing Xander to fall backwards beneath a giant crate. He kicked out with one foot and connected in the the left elf's gut, putting him down for the moment. He finally got a hold on the clip in his pocket and brought it out, just as the second elf was raising his gun to Xander's forehead.
Xander stopped his assault, staring into the chamber of the small gun. One had nicked him in the side of his arm a while back, so he knew they weren't that bad in non-vital areas, but a shot in the head would kill him nonetheless. The elf grinned, nodding his head and showing off his sharp white teeth.
"Merry Christmas, asshole," the elf sneered, his finger pulling at the trigger. Something blue flashed in the corner of Xander's eye, and before either of them knew what was going on a ray of what might've been electricity shot through the security elf's mid-section. Warm blood spilled out on both sides of the wound, which had cut through the elf like a knife through butter.
Xander quickly got up to his feet, slapping the clip in the submachine gun and shooting the other elf as it finally caught it's breath, then fixed his gaze on the creature in blue that had saved his life. It was an elf as well, one of the ones he had been shooting down with the rest of them. The elf smiled at him and saluted, turning around, moving around another crate. Suddenly Spike turned the opposite corner of the same crate, and before Xander could shout out in protest a very large hole appeared appeared in the back of the elf's skull, brain matter covering the floor beneath him.
"Jesus, Spike no!"
The vampire looked up at him, a curious expression crossing his face.
"Spike, don't shoot them!" Xander yelled as he caught sight of two more blue-suited elves coming up behind Spike, their ray guns aimed at his head. "Aww, shit! Spike, DUCK!"
He jumped to the floor, waiting for the gunfire, but the elves saw Xander's Uzi aimed at them and drew back, then once they'd gotten past the crate they ran off out of sight. Xander sighed and ran up to Spike, slamming a foot hard into the vampire's gut.
His platinum blonde head curled up as Spike cried out and groaned, rolling from side to side. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?!"
"The elves in blue, don't shoot them. They're not after us, they're against the others."
"Well how was I supposed to know that?" Spike whined, holding his stomach.
Xander shrugged. "You weren't, the kick was getting you back for waking me up like that."
He held out a hand and Spike, giving him a look that told him to watch his back, took it, rising back to his feet. "All right, what now?"
Xander shook his head in dismay. "I don't know, this place his huge. I know how to get back to the portals from here, but we have to look further. I know Dawn is here, but maybe the others are still in Sunnydale."
"Well, where would they keep the munchkin? And why her? She's only a bite-sized snack."
"I'm not sure...maybe we should split up."
"Hey, I'd be all for it if I'd known to map this place out like you did. But more to the point, you get yourself killed and I'm lost in Candyland. No, I think it's better if you stick with me."
Xander smirked. "You mean, you stick with me."
Just then a large patrol of the elves in blue came through a crate-size door to the north of them, all loaded to the teeth. Xander thought for a moment and put his hands up, nudging Spike to do the same.
"We're on your side," Xander called out, a friendly smile on his face.
But the elves just stared at him, each seeming to wait for a command. They stood there a moment longer, and just as he felt Spike lean over to say something, Riley and a very large elf with wings came in behind the force. Xander broke out into a huge grin of relief and started running towards the force, waving.
"Hey, Riley!"
At this point Spike noticed things getting very weird. Soldier-boy did not even acknowledge Xander's existence, whereas the large fairy/elf looked completely shocked to see him. And the blue elves just stood there, the same strange hazy look in their eyes that Riley held. Spike had seen it somewhere before, and was going to warn Xander to stop and observe the situation.
But Xander didn't need to be told. He skidded to a halt next to a red and white forklift and frowned, examining his friend. "Riley?" But the other man continued to stare straight forward.
"So," Xander heard the big half fairy, half elf say. "You survived."
Xander's frown grew into one of shock as for some reason this voice struck a chord in his recent memory, which was still fogged a bit by the crash. Glancing back he saw Spike looking at him, also apprehensive. Xander turned to face the Elf. "I-I'm sorry, do I know you?"
He grinned, signaling to his army of blue without answering Xander. "Kill them both."
Xander's eyes widened as the elves brought up their guns, and he quickly jumped into the temporary cover of the forklift, losing sight of Spike. Bullets tore through the glass above him, sprinkling it down onto his jacket and pants as he crawled to the driver's side. One glance around the front seat told him how likely it was going to be to find a key, but maybe he could jump start the large machine...
*
Spike latched onto the crate next to him, vaulting on top of it. He had two of the small bullets swimming around in his gut and another had just torn off the top of his pinky, and yet he howled not with rage but with pleasure. This was what he lived for. He longed every day for the pain he was feeling now, the type of torture he and Dru would constantly put each other through, only now he got it without all of the emotional baggage. He could finally cut loose, take out his gun, bare his fangs and kill without a second thought or a pain in his head from that damn chip.
As one of the elves ran by he snaked a hand down, grabbing the creature by the nape of its neck and, with his super-human strength, pulling it up. As it screamed he sunk his teeth into it's jugular, tearing in and sucking the blood out, shaking his head vigorously as he felt the life slip out of his prey. He always had been somewhat of a messy eater.
Something roared up behind him and Spike looked back to see a red and white forklift, covered with elves in blue uniform. It turned and jerked forward as a few of the elves made it through the windshield, other slamming against it's bumper and still others being crushed underneath the tires.
He wiped his mouth, enjoying the feel of hot blood boiling down his throat and into his stomach, grinning as he felt the bumps and ridges on his face. Xander was inside the vehicle, struggling with the little bastards. Maybe, just maybe he'd let him die, sit there and get filled up with the tiny lead bullets until his eyes turned all glassy and his flesh grew cold.
...But while Spike would like that very much, he knew Buffy wouldn't. And if she showed up, he wouldn't be able to hide the fact that he hadn't saved Xander when he'd had the chance. So he grabbed one of the hooks used for lifting crates like the one he was on and jumped into the air, swinging like Tarzan until he rammed up against the big machine, a dull thud announcing his presence, his shotgun slipping from his grasp and falling all the way down, smacking a few elves in landing.
Hearing climbing behind him and expecting another tasty elf-treat to pop it's head up, he was caught off guard by the human fist that slammed into his face, cracking against his jawbone. Spike jumped to his feet and his eyes widened as Riley climbed up next to him, any trace of humanity gone from his eyes. Spike threw a punch into the man's gut and a sharp pain shot through his head, so vile that it rendered Spike incapable of even screaming. Apparently, the chip still considered Riley a human...
He reached down and grabbed Spike by the throat, clasping his fingers tight to maintain his grip as he swung the other man forty-five degrees to the right. Now Spike's feet dangled in the air, and he looked down to see many of the elves staring straight back up at him, their guns at the ready. They couldn't kill him like that, his wounds would heal, and the fall itself from the top of the forklift would only hurt so much, but in the space of time it would take for him to recover from the blows it would be very easy for someone to stick a peace of wood from one of the crates into his heart.
*
Looking up, Xander kicked two more elves out of the now moving vehicle and trained his Uzi on the door and the windshield, but he only had one clip left after this one, and the small nemeses continued to pour through. He had to find a way out.
Suddenly, a whooshing sound entered his ears followed by a giant crash against the top of the vehicle, and he looked out to see Spike's jacket and feet disappear over the top. He stopped the machine for a moment, looking around for any possible exit. There was only a very, very large crate to the left, and many more of the same variety behind him. A wall canceled much more movement forward, which only left the option of moving right.
A sharp pain shot through his elbow, and he looked down to see an otherwise unarmed elf biting into his flesh. Xander lifted the Uzi to the temple of the creature and pulled the trigger, blood splattering over everything inside of the forklift, including Xander.
He wiped the thick red liquid from his eyes and bent down to recross the wires, starting the machine back up. By now he could hear heavy struggling from up above, and going for broke he took the only option he could. He turned the middle lever on the vehicle's control panel to the right and did the same with the wheel, the forklift lurching harshly to response. His days of working on construction sites was finally paying off.
*
Riley lost his balance on the top of the forklift as it jerked to the right, both he and and Spike falling onto the large crate next to it. Spike, seizing the chance to escape, got to his feet before Riley and started looking for some way off of the crate that didn't involve jumping and risking a broken something, whatever part of his anatomy he landed with.
But the human was fast, and impossibly so. The darkness inside of him reigned, and Riley lashed out at Spike while still on his stomach, the vampire crashing onto the wood as a result. Before Spike could get out of his grasp, Riley yanked at the back of his head, grabbing his slick short hair and slamming his face into the wood, breaking it through the crate.
An explosion went through Spike's brain, but as he opened his eyes his mind was still functioning properly enough to register the oddity of what was inside. Countless sleighs, all seemingly different in color but the same in every other aspect. Why?
He had no more time to ponder of the situation as he was picked bodily up by a raging ex-soldier with darkness pulsing through his veins. Though Spike struggled valiantly he was thrown back to the top of the crate, groaning in pain (no longer so pleasurable as he began to fear for his afterlife) while feeling the wood shift and crack underneath him. Riley rolled him offer and picked up one particularly large broken slat of wood and raised his hand over Spike.
The vampire saw this and at the last moment rolled off of the large crate, falling headfirst downwards straight through a rusty metal grate that led to the temperature control room regulating the air of the floor below that. He'd gained such a momentum that he broke through the ice in that small room as well, landing on his back two floors down from where he'd fallen.
*
Xander heard a very loud crashing sound but the forklift didn't have any rear windows to look from. He could now see a way out, though. Only a few elves were guarding that door, and many of them were already engaged in battle with the blue-suited elves that hadn't gone haywire. He pressed down on the third lever until the forklift was going at about thirty-five miles an hour, the top speed for the large machine before it would snap it's gears, breath out some exhaust and die on him.
Suddenly, someone very large and blue jumped onto his side of the forklift, grabbing a handful of his shirt and entering the vehicle with him. It was the blue fairy/elf, rage filling his eyes. Xander looked up at him, afraid and curious as he seemed to know something Xander didn't.
"Don't you remember me, Xander?" He asked in a voice that quickly gained a higher pitch, sounding very familiar to the young man. His wings fluttered powerfully and he smiled, ripping the Uzi from Xander's left hand and turning, looking outside the windshield and aiming. The weapon then rattled out shot after shot, first taking out the blue fighters at the door, then every other elf in sight until it clicked, empty.
"My name is Sethiroph, now sole lord of the Dark Elves."
He threw the gun outside as the forklift continued to move quickly, the beasts movements causing the wheel to turn sharply. Xander gasped for breath with his opponents hand on his throat, but for some reason Sethiroph loosened his grip. Their faces mere inches from each other, the man's blue features suddenly morphed as he grinned, and for just a moment Anya was there, smiling darkly at him.
"It took a while to kill her," his enemy whispered, his face his own once again, full of malice. "She screamed for you throughout, but you weren't there. She cried for you even when I took out her eyes and tongue."
Xander turned his face away, trying to shun the image of Anya, tears streaming down her face until her beautiful eyes were ripped from their sockets. Blood collecting in her mouth from where her tongue used to be.
"I'll tell you what though, she was the best lay I ever had... even when she stopped moving." Sethiroph laughed at him, spittle flying out and hitting Xander in the face.
He screamed, reaching around the fair/elf and taking control of the wheel, slamming them straight into and through a wall of rock and ice. Sethiroph tried to jump but Xander grabbed onto him in a bear hug and they went through together.
They'd landed in a hidden stream in the mountain, and no matter how much heat the portal diagnostics had put into them, it couldn't prepare them for the icy blackness of the water, chunks of ice floating along as well. Both of them swam out of the fast sinking forklift as the stream rushed them away; down, down, down in to the murky depths of the mountain.
37. Run-ins and Close Calls
Tara sighed, looking back from the way she had come. Travel had been annoying the first five minutes, exhausting the next, and now she didn't know if she could make it much further without giving up and kicking in the next grate she saw and risking the battling going on beneath her. At least down there she'd have some room to move around.
She turned another corner, wondering which way to go next. Right now it felt like every turn was the same, every grate leading down always straight into certain death, and every two minutes there was another fan pulling her body in one direction while she struggled to go in the other. The way Tara figured it, if nothing came up soon she really would go down. Anything was better then being stuck up in these ventilation shafts.
*
Willow opened one of the many doors in the lower level, a bit of snowy dust falling down into her frizzled hair. The room she had just entered was small and thankfully elfless, and was probably able to fit a maximum of three of four really thin people inside of its rocky and ice-layered walls.
Three computer monitors were here, each detailing screens holding hundreds of very small moving images. She couldn't see a mouse anywhere, so Willow pressed a finger on one of the monitors itself, and was rewarded with an enlargement of the image she had pointed to.
Willow frowned at what she saw.
*
Baringold stopped for a moment at the door of the jail, peeking around bow and arrow first to cheek and make sure no one was on watch. The admission desk was empty. Grinning, Bar called out in a friendly tone.
"Hello, is anyone here?"
No one was. Willow's chick Tara wasn't in any of the cells. He was beginning to grow worried when something on the floor bit through his pointed shoe into the soft underside of his foot. He yelped and withdrew the pin, examining it. Jack Frost (asshole) was on the front, sticking up his thumbs and giving his normal shit-eating grin. But what interested Baringold was the bent side of the pin's needle.
He looked into the cell the pin had been thrown clear of and on closer inspection found that the bed had been moved and the grill unscrewed. He grinned, whispering to himself.
"Clever girl..."
*
Spike opened his eyes, groaning and reaching up to wipe snow and debris off his face. Pain shot through his arm and up his side so badly that Spike thought he was going to die, then almost laughed. But he suppressed the humor, knowing that laughing would only increase the pain.
Something moved in the vent above him, and any trace of a smile left Spike's face. Looking up through the two holes he'd made in the ceilings, Spike could see that way up high, Riley was no longer on the crate. Probably long gone. Maybe he wanted to come have a rematch and considered the best way was through the vents!
Spike got to his feet, trying desperately to ignore the pain he was feeling all over his body. Looking around, he remembered he lost his shotgun in the heat of battle. At least that's how he liked to think of it. Much better losing your weapon 'in the heat of battle' than 'imitating Tarzan'. The thing in the vent shifted again, and Spike examined his surroundings for anything useful.
Among the rather impressive amount of small dead bodies he spotted one of the nifty ray guns lying in the blood encrusted hand of an elf.
*
By the seventh try on the third monitor Willow gave up on seeing anything special or even remotely useful to her. They were all different shots and angles of fans, some blowing, some not, and still some completely blown out. The blown out ones left a creepy looking hole that no doubt lead outside of Teufel Mountain. She'd hate to get sucked out into that mess.
Looking down, she noticed a red button on the keyboard that she guessed controlled the fan system. She knew that one of the major rules of survival in situations like this was that you never, ever push the attractive red button.
She pushed it.
*
Tara screamed as the blue ray of light shot up through the metal next to her head. As she tried to regain control of her nerves someone called out beneath her.
"Tara, 'sthat you pet?"
Tara nodded to herself. "S-Spike?"
Below her, Spike grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad to see you."
Tara laughed nervously. "S-same-"
She screamed again as something moved in the darkness behind her, traveling at an incredible rate. Whatever it was seemed intent on catching up to her.
"All right, I know!" Spike shouted, "I stopped shooting, okay?"
But then he too heard the noise, followed by a high-pitched voice, his eyes widening as he heard the velocity of the object racing up to her. He scratched his head. "Can you go any faster in that thing luv? It might be a good idea right about now."
She screamed again, and Spike held his hands to his head. He was beginning to wish she'd stop doing that. He then heard her body started to thump along the vent very quickly. "That's not good." He picked up the pace and began to run along with the noise she was making.
*
Baringold had known of lesbians for a while. He had a fairly good eye for them, seeing as how the one female elf he'd had his heart set on since after his birthling stage was of that nature. He'd caught her and a fairy from the next village over (he'd thought they had just been good friends) getting hot and heavy in the boiler room of the main generator that had powered his village. He'd been doing some work for his father when he'd seen them. From that point on he'd known lesbians on the spot, but Willow had been different. She didn't seem to fit the category, and yet she did.
Tara on the other hand, was practically a poster image for it. It's something in the eyes, he guessed. A sort of quality that others just didn't hold. That and the attire, of course. He loved traveling in the vents, it was one of the things elves did best. Grab, pull, repeat. And with their great night vision and smell, it took very little time for Bar to catch up with Willow's love.
Still, it caught him off guard when she started to scream. He'd called out to her, but she hadn't heard. He figured it would be best if he caught up to her and fixed the situation. Then she screamed again and started moving quickly away from him in a fashion that he had no problem admitting creeped him out. But when the draft and suction caught him and he too began to fly forwards, he realized what was going on. The elf controlling the fan must have spotted them and hit the 'clean' button. It's purpose was simply that. To clear out everything and anything in the vents by using ultimate suction, straight through the fans.
*
Tara heard the thing behind her begin to scream as well, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She'd never wanted or wished anything dead, not even her family or Santa or Oz, but right now she was getting the oddest feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something in her brain was saying Good, if I'm going, so is the freak behind me. But every other part of her body was simply trying to get hold of something, and if she had the chance she would save both her life and that of her pursuers.
"Grab onto one of the grills as it goes by!" Spike yelled to her.
"Th-the suction's to strong, it won't help! Oh no, I can see the f-fan; It's coming up!"
Spike growled, noting that sure enough, the wall ended not too far up ahead. Realizing that he had to take the initiative, Spike picked up speed (though it was killing him to do so) and spotted the next grill. When he came to it he suddenly veered to the left, running up a slippery wall and vaulting off of it up and through the grill. Just in time to be socked into by a fast-moving Tara.
Tara saw Spike for only second before she heard him "OOF!" as grab hold of her. They both, fighting the suction of the fan, tumbled down to the mountain floor below.
Baringold zoomed by them, his feet crashing into the grill and ripping it completely off. Now he traveled like a bullet, so thin and small that none of his body actually touched the walls of the shaft, his hair whipping about behind him. He was in a ball now, both of his hands clutching the grill and his feet placed on it for whatever meager protection it might provide.
But he knew better. The fans were much too powerful and moved too fast to be stopped by a grill.
*
As Willow was about to leave the control room through it's other door, into what she hoped would be the invasion room, she turned. Pressing the red button seemed wrong somehow. She reached over and pressed it again, but to her alarm the machine began to beep at her. The monitors all blacked out and a simple message read
MAXIMUM SPEED: SYSTEM OVERLOAD
Shrugging, Willow left the room. The more chaos, the more damage to this mountain facility, the better.
*
Baringold shrieked as the skin on his face rippled, his small body soaring through the darkness at incredible speed. He didn't notice that the fan was smoking, it's power source dead. Not that it would be enough anyway, the fan was still spinning and he was still moving at the speed of a bullet.
He roared down the shaft and slammed into the fan, obliterating it and sailing out into open air for about ten seconds. Then he landed and all went black.
38. Invasion (Santas)
Jack listened to the gentle hiss of the door close behind him and sighed, flexing his joints and cracking his knuckles. This was it. Diablo was now sacrificing the girl, Nicholas was packing up to leave the premises, Sethiroph was god-knows-where and he himself was right where he belonged. In the heart of this operation, his own brainstorm. He'd been told by many that the elves loved his ingenious plan to help Nick retire, but in the last couple of days he'd been feeling otherwise.
In any case, it was of no importance to him. Jack Frost was Jack Frost, leader of the world, ruler of the free and the slaves. At least he soon would be.
Looking around, he smiled. This was his favorite place to be in all of Teufel. It had taken quite a long while to complete. The days had turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years and so on and so forth. But now it was finished, and the fruits of his labor would be there for him very soon. He walked along the catwalks looking down all the time and examining his and the elves fabulous, flawless work.
*
The first thing Willow saw was the pods. Hundreds upon thousands, probably even millions of them on the floor about twenty yards below the catwalk. The room was bigger then on the map. It probably spanned half of the lowest level of the mountain, ranging as far as Willow's eyes could see. And so did the pods.
But it was what was inside the pods that made everything so much more frightening to her. They were all filled with green water and looked like incubation tubes. She finally understood what was going on (at least, part of it). She now knew what they were going to invade the world with.
Santas... Millions of them, each the size of the real thing, each round and horrid in the face. They were exact replicas of what Kringle had looked like when she'd first met him, all the way back in Buffy's dorm room. She walked along the catwalk in awe,
"Beautiful, aren't they?"
Willow turned, reaching for her pistols.
"Ah-ah-ahh," Jack said as she spotted him, a gun already pointed at her and his finger waving in the air. "That wouldn't be the smartest of choices."
Willow grimaced, her gaze focused on Jack. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He smiled. "Spreading joy and merriment. The Santas will run across the world, capturing every town and city and village."
"When?"
His smile grew wider. "Tonight."
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Alright, I'm dying to know what you think, please tell me. I know the story's more action than horror in this chapter, but do not fear. A harrowing, hopefully frightening end is in sight as we only have one more chapter left. I-I think I'm gonna cry...
Ain't that sweet?
Donald Pike (Lyle)
---And yet somehow, I just can't seem to care.