Chapter 6
Cordelia watched as Angel was sent hurtling on his back, head first,
down the stairs. He hit the bottom hard, and the pain caused his face to
change into it's vampire form. Cordelia was surprised, she expected
them to talk, and maybe kiss, but kill each other? She thought that was
kept only for when Angel lost his soul. Wesley stared at her, just as
confused. They couldn't have done it in the five seconds they were
upstairs, could they? No, don't be stupid. He wouldn't, would he? Cordelia
scolded herself. Your supposed to trust Angel now, remember? Buffy was
stepping slowly down the stairs. Her face was swathed in shadow. Weird,
Cordelia thought. She was trying to figure out whether or not to help
Angel, or Buffy. Wesley was considering asking them to stop, politely, but
reconsidered when Angel was sent skidding across the floor by a
resounding roundhouse kick to the jaw.
Angel managed to get a few weak hits in, but in no way did they
compare to the stinging hits he was receiving. He couldn't seem to fight
back, was he holding back, did he really want to hurt this creature? It
looked like so much like Buffy. A punch smacked it's way deep into his
cheek, and he suddenly woke up. If he was going to survive then he would
have to fight back.
Cordelia decided to help Angel, Buffy was acting weirdly. She should
have stopped hitting him and let him speak to her at least. She hit
Buffy over the head with a plant pot. As it smashed into smithereens Buffy
turned to her. Wesley watched as Cordelia crashed heavily into the wall
near him, and decided to help. He ran to hit Buffy, but as she faced
him he was stopped in his tracks. Her red eyes bore deep into him, and he
suddenly realised he was not going to win a physical fight with her.
"Lorek," he breathed. She smiled at him evilly, then turned back to
pulverising Angel.
Wesley was kick started into action. Cordelia had been knocked out but
he didn't have time to see to her. He dragged a huge book down from the
precarious bookcase and flicked through it. Binding spell... where the
hell are you? He found a tired looking page deep in the depths of the
book which read 'Binding Spell. To bind a demon from doing harm.' Bingo.
He sprinkled some herbs around him and threw small clove like seeds at
the demon. He began to read the Latin, praying and hoping.
Angel hit the floor again, and pain shot through his body. He felt a
rib crack as he hit the floor, not good. He couldn't get up. Buffy stood
at his feet. "I am here to take you from this life, you know that," she
stated. Angel became aware of faint chanting in the background, but he
was more concerned with the monster at his feet. "It could have been
easier for you if you had accepted me. But the end would have been the
same. Now I have to take you like this, barbarically. I prefer the gentle
method; I like a soul to come willingly. It's so much easier." The
demon sat down on his chest, and Angel cried out in pain. She leaned over
his face. "It didn't have to be this way." She cupped his face in her
hands, and Angel could only watch as her eyes glowed a pumpkin orange. He
felt himself grow weaker as the monster drained his being away, until
he could control his limbs no longer. Finally, he let go.
A blue light shot from Wesley's hands and hit the monster full force
in the chest. She was carried backwards by it's momentum, smashed into a
wall. It's small body made a remarkably large dent in the wall. As it
dropped it was caught up by more blue light. The light enveloped it,
contorted it, bound it. The monster's screams filled the electrified air
as it fought against the light. Buffy's form shrank back to reveal red
swirling energy contained by the blue light. A final blood-curdling
scream was heard before it disappeared.
Cordelia had been woken by the noise and she shook plaster from her
hair. Wesley ran to Angel, who was still lying on the floor, his eyes
closed and his face peaceful. "Oh, God," Wesley thought, "I was too late."
Cordelia staggered over, and looked at Angel in horror at him lying on
the floor. She looked at Wesley. "He's not dead, is he?" She said to
him. "If a vampire is dead, it should be dusted, right? He's still,
whole. Hit him, wake him up." Wesley looked at her. "You hit him. If he
wakes up, he can be broody to you." They continued arguing, not noticing
Angel slowly opening his eyes. He stared up at them, realising he was
lying on the floor underneath them, their argument loomed over him.
Dangerous position, he thought. His head throbbed as he stood up, and his
eyes were bleary. "Be a man, hit him!" "No, you hit him, oh, he's up."
Angel stared at them. "Yeah, I'm up. Is it dead?" Wesley stared at him. "
I killed it." He said, pride etched into his voice. "Good."
A pair of red eyes stared outwardly into the warehouse. They were
dimmer now, weaker. It could see the spiny body of a Nary demon slowly
disintegrating as days passed by. He could no longer hold his form, he had
been zapped of his supernatural energy and was struggling to keep just
his eyes open. But he was angry. No vampire was going to defeat him. He
had been the harbinger of death for longer than any mortal or immortal
had walked this earth. No pathetic whinging vampire was going to defeat
him. The soul of the Nary demon was still fluttering above his head,
unable to accept it's death. It was weak, but still sustenance. It wailed
painfully as Lorek took it. As Lorek digested, he felt his eyes glow a
little brighter, and his eyes hover a little steadier. No, no vampire
was going to defeat him. For he was Lorek, bringer of death. He would
return, and return soon. Then dead boy would be dust dissipating beneath
his feet.
Cordelia watched as Angel was sent hurtling on his back, head first,
down the stairs. He hit the bottom hard, and the pain caused his face to
change into it's vampire form. Cordelia was surprised, she expected
them to talk, and maybe kiss, but kill each other? She thought that was
kept only for when Angel lost his soul. Wesley stared at her, just as
confused. They couldn't have done it in the five seconds they were
upstairs, could they? No, don't be stupid. He wouldn't, would he? Cordelia
scolded herself. Your supposed to trust Angel now, remember? Buffy was
stepping slowly down the stairs. Her face was swathed in shadow. Weird,
Cordelia thought. She was trying to figure out whether or not to help
Angel, or Buffy. Wesley was considering asking them to stop, politely, but
reconsidered when Angel was sent skidding across the floor by a
resounding roundhouse kick to the jaw.
Angel managed to get a few weak hits in, but in no way did they
compare to the stinging hits he was receiving. He couldn't seem to fight
back, was he holding back, did he really want to hurt this creature? It
looked like so much like Buffy. A punch smacked it's way deep into his
cheek, and he suddenly woke up. If he was going to survive then he would
have to fight back.
Cordelia decided to help Angel, Buffy was acting weirdly. She should
have stopped hitting him and let him speak to her at least. She hit
Buffy over the head with a plant pot. As it smashed into smithereens Buffy
turned to her. Wesley watched as Cordelia crashed heavily into the wall
near him, and decided to help. He ran to hit Buffy, but as she faced
him he was stopped in his tracks. Her red eyes bore deep into him, and he
suddenly realised he was not going to win a physical fight with her.
"Lorek," he breathed. She smiled at him evilly, then turned back to
pulverising Angel.
Wesley was kick started into action. Cordelia had been knocked out but
he didn't have time to see to her. He dragged a huge book down from the
precarious bookcase and flicked through it. Binding spell... where the
hell are you? He found a tired looking page deep in the depths of the
book which read 'Binding Spell. To bind a demon from doing harm.' Bingo.
He sprinkled some herbs around him and threw small clove like seeds at
the demon. He began to read the Latin, praying and hoping.
Angel hit the floor again, and pain shot through his body. He felt a
rib crack as he hit the floor, not good. He couldn't get up. Buffy stood
at his feet. "I am here to take you from this life, you know that," she
stated. Angel became aware of faint chanting in the background, but he
was more concerned with the monster at his feet. "It could have been
easier for you if you had accepted me. But the end would have been the
same. Now I have to take you like this, barbarically. I prefer the gentle
method; I like a soul to come willingly. It's so much easier." The
demon sat down on his chest, and Angel cried out in pain. She leaned over
his face. "It didn't have to be this way." She cupped his face in her
hands, and Angel could only watch as her eyes glowed a pumpkin orange. He
felt himself grow weaker as the monster drained his being away, until
he could control his limbs no longer. Finally, he let go.
A blue light shot from Wesley's hands and hit the monster full force
in the chest. She was carried backwards by it's momentum, smashed into a
wall. It's small body made a remarkably large dent in the wall. As it
dropped it was caught up by more blue light. The light enveloped it,
contorted it, bound it. The monster's screams filled the electrified air
as it fought against the light. Buffy's form shrank back to reveal red
swirling energy contained by the blue light. A final blood-curdling
scream was heard before it disappeared.
Cordelia had been woken by the noise and she shook plaster from her
hair. Wesley ran to Angel, who was still lying on the floor, his eyes
closed and his face peaceful. "Oh, God," Wesley thought, "I was too late."
Cordelia staggered over, and looked at Angel in horror at him lying on
the floor. She looked at Wesley. "He's not dead, is he?" She said to
him. "If a vampire is dead, it should be dusted, right? He's still,
whole. Hit him, wake him up." Wesley looked at her. "You hit him. If he
wakes up, he can be broody to you." They continued arguing, not noticing
Angel slowly opening his eyes. He stared up at them, realising he was
lying on the floor underneath them, their argument loomed over him.
Dangerous position, he thought. His head throbbed as he stood up, and his
eyes were bleary. "Be a man, hit him!" "No, you hit him, oh, he's up."
Angel stared at them. "Yeah, I'm up. Is it dead?" Wesley stared at him. "
I killed it." He said, pride etched into his voice. "Good."
A pair of red eyes stared outwardly into the warehouse. They were
dimmer now, weaker. It could see the spiny body of a Nary demon slowly
disintegrating as days passed by. He could no longer hold his form, he had
been zapped of his supernatural energy and was struggling to keep just
his eyes open. But he was angry. No vampire was going to defeat him. He
had been the harbinger of death for longer than any mortal or immortal
had walked this earth. No pathetic whinging vampire was going to defeat
him. The soul of the Nary demon was still fluttering above his head,
unable to accept it's death. It was weak, but still sustenance. It wailed
painfully as Lorek took it. As Lorek digested, he felt his eyes glow a
little brighter, and his eyes hover a little steadier. No, no vampire
was going to defeat him. For he was Lorek, bringer of death. He would
return, and return soon. Then dead boy would be dust dissipating beneath
his feet.