TITLE: Spike & Dru: World At War, Chapter One: The World Back Then
AUTHOR: Noggins, based on ideas by Noggins and Me
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. If I did I'd be writing actual scripts rather than fan fiction and be getting paid loads of money for it. Damn you Joss for not hiring me :o)
NOTES: This fic is based on an outline written for a series of scripts but it's somehow made it into this format. Weird, huh?
RATING: Prolly PG-13. There's some pretty serious things dealt with in the first chapter and our "heroes" do some nasty things. But, hell, they're vampires! Still, can't say I didn't warn you.
SPIKE & DRU: WORLD AT WAR
CHAPTER ONE:
THE WORLD BACK THEN
The moon cast it's glow over the tall imposing structure making it stand out from it's harsh surroundings. It was the cruel modern towering above the equally cruel nature of late spring in Germany. The air was unusually cold and the two lone guards who stood outside the huge steel doors had been spending their time breathing and watching the visible vapour glide up into the trees. They had been there for five hours now and were starting to doze off to the sounds of the nocturnal birds that continued their daily hunting tasks.
Somewhere nearby a twig snapped. The two soldiers looked towards the trees, their attention suddenly drawn towards the only abnormal thing that had occurred during the time spent at the entrance of the camp. They both squinted their eyes to see into the thick undergrowth but there was nothing. One turned to the other and shrugged. Probably a fox. Neither of them said anything but their thoughts were the same.
The same, but wrong. The first soldier suddenly called out in pain but a strong female hand covered his mouth. The nails dug into his face as he realised that his neck had been pierced.
Within a split second his companion had spun around but it was too late. The last thing he felt were two hands on either side of his head before a loud snap. The first soldier watched the body fell to the floor with a thud as his vision slowly dissipated, leaving only black... then nothing.
"Careful, pet... might mess his nice little uniform up," the first attacker grinned as he began to take off the soldier's jacket. "Think it's my colour?"
"Oh, Spike... The turtle looked after his mind but his heart was still open..." Drusilla took the helmet she had taken from the drained soldier into her arms and stroked it. "Poor turtle. All alone now."
"It's a helmet, luv..."
"I know that!" she replied as her eyes lit up. She placed it on her head and span around a little and bowed to her lover. "The Duke of stars is coming you know... and we have to be ready."
"Just put it on," he smiled as he moved closer and joined his lips with hers. The blood of the German guard was still fresh in her mouth and they shared the taste.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The two vampires walked slowly through the main courtyard of the concentration camp. Drusilla kept adjusting her stolen uniform, trying to get it to fit her right but with no real success. She wandered off, absently muttering to herself about how she could feel the soul of the guard still in the outfit.
"He had a girl... a nice girl... she smelt of tulips in the morning... so fresh... so..." Spike pulled her into a corner as three more soldiers marched passed them. He glared at him angrily but that soon faded into a giggle. "Tulips. In. The. Morning," she repeated, carefully pronouncing every syllable of the words.
"Shh... we might get caught," Spike whispered harshly. "C'mon..."
He guided her carefully around the corner again having checked that the guards were gone. They run forward a little faster. Another alcove was in sight, a little closer to their destination than the last. Only a few more steps and they'd be there.
"Halten!" a voice called out stopping Spike in his tracks although Drusilla kept walking, oblivious to anything else. "Sie außerdem!" She stopped and looked around to see a tall junior officer. The stripes on his chest suggested he still had a long way to go before he had any real authority but what he had he intended to wield over any unruly soldiers. He glared at the two before realising that one of them was a woman and looked accusingly at Spike. "Was tut sie hier?"
"Sorry mate. I've never been too good with those Eurpean languages," Spike said before a cocky grin covered his lips. "Could you say it again in English?"
The officer looked panicked. "Englander!" he tried call out as a warning to others but Spike pushed his head into a wall, cracking his skull with the sheer brute vampire strength. He turned to Drusilla. "I think we better get this done now."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Several woman huddled their children in the small cramped space of the cell. The holes in the walls had been letting in the cold ever since the winter and over fifty had been victims of the subsequent afflictions of pneumonia before they had even made it to the gas chambers. Another wind blew through a crack and sent a shiver up an old woman's spine. She shuddered and looked around to see if it had affected anyone else. Everyone seemed too exhausted to even react.
There were several quiet murmurs and some shifted at the sound of the main doors opening. A child ran from his mother's arms in an attempt at self-preservation. Many philosophers of the years before had suggested that man was naturally selfish. Life was all about protecting yourself. The mother didn't seem to mind. She would rather give up her own life than see her child suffer as she had seen her husband suffer.
The moonlight coming from the open door made the two figure entering appear as silhouettes. A few people moved further back as they stepped in, allowing a stray beam of light to show the features of the one in front. His hair was light brown and a little messy. He wore a German uniform but something about made them realising that he wasn't one of "Them". He finally spoke as he took in the surroundings. "Bloody hell, look at the state of this place."
"Englisch!" someone near the front called out joyously as a young girl ran to embrace him. "Sie sind gekommen, uns zu sichern!" she called out but he pushed her back. She fell to the hard ground with a thump. She was too weak to get back to her feet and just looked up at the English man who appeared to be their saviour, albeit their slightly rough saviour.
The English man's companion moved forward and took the girl's chin in her hands. "Poor little lady. Did Spike treat you bad?" she asked in an almost motherly way. The girl seem to understand and nodded sadly. "He's a naughty Spike. He'll be punished later."
"Oh, c'mon luv," he protested as he walked forward to a woman in her late twenties, holding a child to her chest. Having seen how he had treated the girl she was naturally wary. "Let's not give them the wrong impression of us..." The woman almost jumped from her sitting position on the concrete floor as his face started to change. His eyes became yellow, his forehead seemed to expand and a set of sharp fangs took the place of his normal teeth.
The same thing had happened to the English woman who pulled the girl in her arms up and sank the jagged incisors ripped through her throat and began to drink the blood that flowed out. She girl held her hand out for help but none came. The man jumped into the crowed who were weakly trying to get away. He ripped, scrammed and bit his way through them. There was nowhere to run... nowhere to escape.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The result of the massacre was witnessed as an alarm sounded out around the camp. Ten soldiers ran to the prison building in question only to find the door wide open, swinging on its hinges and a trail of blood slowly trickling from inside. They feared the worst as they walked in with torches raised but this put anything they could have imagined to shame. Nearly two hundred bodies piled up neatly, some with puncture wounds in their necks, others with their heads drooping to one side, their eyes reflecting the agony they experienced during their last moments of life.
The soldiers knew that what these people suffered at the hands of the Fuhrer's regime was nothing compared to this. They may have died quickly but it seems that these murderers had destroyed the one thing that had kept them strong through the years of punishment – they took away their hope.
One soldier signalled to the most senior officer. He nodded in reply. The general must know of this!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lieutenant Hoffmann walked nervously through the corridors leading to the general's office. This was a stark contrast to what could be seen looking out from any window onto the concentration camp. That's probably why there were no windows to be seen here. God forbid they look out at the horror that they had caused.
Hoffmann knew that if he voiced his thoughts he'd be shot dead on the spot. And anyway, he was just paid to take orders. After nearly five years of war he really didn't care who won anymore. He was quite happy as long as he got himself a decent pay packet and fair treatment from the Allies (he was, after all, forced into this life of servitude to the evils of the Fuhrer. Or at least that's what he'd tell them) if they happened to win.
He came to the general's door and knocked. There was a silence and it seemed like no one had heard. He knocked again and a guard opened the door. He nodded to him and walked to the desk. The high-backed chair was turned away from him. The general was clearly not in a good mood having heard the events in the cells.
"You may leave, soldier," he ordered the guard in German. The guard saluted and said nothing more as he closed the door behind him. Hoffmann stood closer to the desk. He took a deep breath and prepared to speak. Before he could even open his mouth he was interrupted. "Lieutenant, it appears that somehow, despite nearly forty guards, your men were unable to prevent a break-in followed by the massacre of nearly two hundred Jews."
"General Grellik sir... I can explain..."
"No, Lieutenant, I doubt very much that you can. This is the biggest example of incompetence that I have ever witnessed." The general's mood suddenly changed. He went from angry to almost patronising. "If I wanted them dead they would be by now. I feel I should be hiring our killers. They would be doing a much better job than your men."
"My men are..."
"Useless... I think is the word you're looking for."
"No, sir. With all due respect, I don't think we could have done anything. What we saw... it can't have been done by humans."
The general paused for a moment. The room became so silent Hoffmann could hear his own heartbeat increasing in pace. He had no doubt that the general would believe his statement. Given the circumstances how could he not? The officer felt the need to end the quiet. "General. Many of the bodies had two puncture marks in their necks... That appears to suggest..."
The general turned around on his chair suddenly. Hoffmann jumped a few feet back. No matter how many times he'd seen this sight it still scared him. General Grellik's piercing red eyes looked at him as he stroked his brown scaly chin with sharp black claws. "Vampires..." the demon Nazi mused, completing the lieutenant's sentence. "It appears we have some new vampires in town..."
To be continued...
AUTHOR: Noggins, based on ideas by Noggins and Me
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. If I did I'd be writing actual scripts rather than fan fiction and be getting paid loads of money for it. Damn you Joss for not hiring me :o)
NOTES: This fic is based on an outline written for a series of scripts but it's somehow made it into this format. Weird, huh?
RATING: Prolly PG-13. There's some pretty serious things dealt with in the first chapter and our "heroes" do some nasty things. But, hell, they're vampires! Still, can't say I didn't warn you.
SPIKE & DRU: WORLD AT WAR
CHAPTER ONE:
THE WORLD BACK THEN
The moon cast it's glow over the tall imposing structure making it stand out from it's harsh surroundings. It was the cruel modern towering above the equally cruel nature of late spring in Germany. The air was unusually cold and the two lone guards who stood outside the huge steel doors had been spending their time breathing and watching the visible vapour glide up into the trees. They had been there for five hours now and were starting to doze off to the sounds of the nocturnal birds that continued their daily hunting tasks.
Somewhere nearby a twig snapped. The two soldiers looked towards the trees, their attention suddenly drawn towards the only abnormal thing that had occurred during the time spent at the entrance of the camp. They both squinted their eyes to see into the thick undergrowth but there was nothing. One turned to the other and shrugged. Probably a fox. Neither of them said anything but their thoughts were the same.
The same, but wrong. The first soldier suddenly called out in pain but a strong female hand covered his mouth. The nails dug into his face as he realised that his neck had been pierced.
Within a split second his companion had spun around but it was too late. The last thing he felt were two hands on either side of his head before a loud snap. The first soldier watched the body fell to the floor with a thud as his vision slowly dissipated, leaving only black... then nothing.
"Careful, pet... might mess his nice little uniform up," the first attacker grinned as he began to take off the soldier's jacket. "Think it's my colour?"
"Oh, Spike... The turtle looked after his mind but his heart was still open..." Drusilla took the helmet she had taken from the drained soldier into her arms and stroked it. "Poor turtle. All alone now."
"It's a helmet, luv..."
"I know that!" she replied as her eyes lit up. She placed it on her head and span around a little and bowed to her lover. "The Duke of stars is coming you know... and we have to be ready."
"Just put it on," he smiled as he moved closer and joined his lips with hers. The blood of the German guard was still fresh in her mouth and they shared the taste.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The two vampires walked slowly through the main courtyard of the concentration camp. Drusilla kept adjusting her stolen uniform, trying to get it to fit her right but with no real success. She wandered off, absently muttering to herself about how she could feel the soul of the guard still in the outfit.
"He had a girl... a nice girl... she smelt of tulips in the morning... so fresh... so..." Spike pulled her into a corner as three more soldiers marched passed them. He glared at him angrily but that soon faded into a giggle. "Tulips. In. The. Morning," she repeated, carefully pronouncing every syllable of the words.
"Shh... we might get caught," Spike whispered harshly. "C'mon..."
He guided her carefully around the corner again having checked that the guards were gone. They run forward a little faster. Another alcove was in sight, a little closer to their destination than the last. Only a few more steps and they'd be there.
"Halten!" a voice called out stopping Spike in his tracks although Drusilla kept walking, oblivious to anything else. "Sie außerdem!" She stopped and looked around to see a tall junior officer. The stripes on his chest suggested he still had a long way to go before he had any real authority but what he had he intended to wield over any unruly soldiers. He glared at the two before realising that one of them was a woman and looked accusingly at Spike. "Was tut sie hier?"
"Sorry mate. I've never been too good with those Eurpean languages," Spike said before a cocky grin covered his lips. "Could you say it again in English?"
The officer looked panicked. "Englander!" he tried call out as a warning to others but Spike pushed his head into a wall, cracking his skull with the sheer brute vampire strength. He turned to Drusilla. "I think we better get this done now."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Several woman huddled their children in the small cramped space of the cell. The holes in the walls had been letting in the cold ever since the winter and over fifty had been victims of the subsequent afflictions of pneumonia before they had even made it to the gas chambers. Another wind blew through a crack and sent a shiver up an old woman's spine. She shuddered and looked around to see if it had affected anyone else. Everyone seemed too exhausted to even react.
There were several quiet murmurs and some shifted at the sound of the main doors opening. A child ran from his mother's arms in an attempt at self-preservation. Many philosophers of the years before had suggested that man was naturally selfish. Life was all about protecting yourself. The mother didn't seem to mind. She would rather give up her own life than see her child suffer as she had seen her husband suffer.
The moonlight coming from the open door made the two figure entering appear as silhouettes. A few people moved further back as they stepped in, allowing a stray beam of light to show the features of the one in front. His hair was light brown and a little messy. He wore a German uniform but something about made them realising that he wasn't one of "Them". He finally spoke as he took in the surroundings. "Bloody hell, look at the state of this place."
"Englisch!" someone near the front called out joyously as a young girl ran to embrace him. "Sie sind gekommen, uns zu sichern!" she called out but he pushed her back. She fell to the hard ground with a thump. She was too weak to get back to her feet and just looked up at the English man who appeared to be their saviour, albeit their slightly rough saviour.
The English man's companion moved forward and took the girl's chin in her hands. "Poor little lady. Did Spike treat you bad?" she asked in an almost motherly way. The girl seem to understand and nodded sadly. "He's a naughty Spike. He'll be punished later."
"Oh, c'mon luv," he protested as he walked forward to a woman in her late twenties, holding a child to her chest. Having seen how he had treated the girl she was naturally wary. "Let's not give them the wrong impression of us..." The woman almost jumped from her sitting position on the concrete floor as his face started to change. His eyes became yellow, his forehead seemed to expand and a set of sharp fangs took the place of his normal teeth.
The same thing had happened to the English woman who pulled the girl in her arms up and sank the jagged incisors ripped through her throat and began to drink the blood that flowed out. She girl held her hand out for help but none came. The man jumped into the crowed who were weakly trying to get away. He ripped, scrammed and bit his way through them. There was nowhere to run... nowhere to escape.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The result of the massacre was witnessed as an alarm sounded out around the camp. Ten soldiers ran to the prison building in question only to find the door wide open, swinging on its hinges and a trail of blood slowly trickling from inside. They feared the worst as they walked in with torches raised but this put anything they could have imagined to shame. Nearly two hundred bodies piled up neatly, some with puncture wounds in their necks, others with their heads drooping to one side, their eyes reflecting the agony they experienced during their last moments of life.
The soldiers knew that what these people suffered at the hands of the Fuhrer's regime was nothing compared to this. They may have died quickly but it seems that these murderers had destroyed the one thing that had kept them strong through the years of punishment – they took away their hope.
One soldier signalled to the most senior officer. He nodded in reply. The general must know of this!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lieutenant Hoffmann walked nervously through the corridors leading to the general's office. This was a stark contrast to what could be seen looking out from any window onto the concentration camp. That's probably why there were no windows to be seen here. God forbid they look out at the horror that they had caused.
Hoffmann knew that if he voiced his thoughts he'd be shot dead on the spot. And anyway, he was just paid to take orders. After nearly five years of war he really didn't care who won anymore. He was quite happy as long as he got himself a decent pay packet and fair treatment from the Allies (he was, after all, forced into this life of servitude to the evils of the Fuhrer. Or at least that's what he'd tell them) if they happened to win.
He came to the general's door and knocked. There was a silence and it seemed like no one had heard. He knocked again and a guard opened the door. He nodded to him and walked to the desk. The high-backed chair was turned away from him. The general was clearly not in a good mood having heard the events in the cells.
"You may leave, soldier," he ordered the guard in German. The guard saluted and said nothing more as he closed the door behind him. Hoffmann stood closer to the desk. He took a deep breath and prepared to speak. Before he could even open his mouth he was interrupted. "Lieutenant, it appears that somehow, despite nearly forty guards, your men were unable to prevent a break-in followed by the massacre of nearly two hundred Jews."
"General Grellik sir... I can explain..."
"No, Lieutenant, I doubt very much that you can. This is the biggest example of incompetence that I have ever witnessed." The general's mood suddenly changed. He went from angry to almost patronising. "If I wanted them dead they would be by now. I feel I should be hiring our killers. They would be doing a much better job than your men."
"My men are..."
"Useless... I think is the word you're looking for."
"No, sir. With all due respect, I don't think we could have done anything. What we saw... it can't have been done by humans."
The general paused for a moment. The room became so silent Hoffmann could hear his own heartbeat increasing in pace. He had no doubt that the general would believe his statement. Given the circumstances how could he not? The officer felt the need to end the quiet. "General. Many of the bodies had two puncture marks in their necks... That appears to suggest..."
The general turned around on his chair suddenly. Hoffmann jumped a few feet back. No matter how many times he'd seen this sight it still scared him. General Grellik's piercing red eyes looked at him as he stroked his brown scaly chin with sharp black claws. "Vampires..." the demon Nazi mused, completing the lieutenant's sentence. "It appears we have some new vampires in town..."
To be continued...
