XANDER HARRIS: EXECUTIONER 6
"Psyche Out"
Faith brought the stake down in a wide arc, intending to slam it through Xander's heart and into the marble slab beneath him. The Executioner had other ideas, twisting at the last possible moment, having been feigning his weakness, and sent the vampire sprawling off of him. Faith hit the ground rolling, coming up on her feet and spinning around to face the already standing Harris.
"You should learn some new dance moves," said Harris, drawing his sword from its sheath within the confines of his duster. "This one's already getting old."
"Damn you, Harris," cursed Faith. "Why can't you die as easily as your friends?"
"You know, Faithless, for the longest time I've been blaming my self for everyone's death. But you know what, it wasn't my fault at all. They were soft. They cared for someone and that led them to get sloppy."
"Hey, Harris," said Faith, smiling at him. "I'm starting to like your attitude."
"It's kept me alive this long."
"Why don't you let it keep you alive a lot longer, huh?" she asked, casting him a sultry look of desire. "I enjoyed you when I was human. I can't imagine what you would be like as one of us."
"Once again, no thanks. I prefer preying on the dead."
"Then I'm just going to have to kill you," said Faith, bating her eyelashes at him and trying to look sweet and remorseful.
"You can try."
"I can do it."
Again relying on her fantastic speed, Faith pulled her last stake out from her vest and threw it with enough force that it could have cleanly pierced an elephant. Harris was ready for the move, bringing his sword up in a side swing that deflected the stake away from him, and he stood holding the weapon before him in a mock salute.
"Like I said, you can try," snipped Harris.
The two circled each other, Faith looking for an opening in which to launch an attack and Harris just wanting to keep her at bay. The thought of beating her didn't even enter his mind, he merely wanted to keep the battle going, stalling until the next Initiative patrol would come by. He didn't know if he could do it, it would be almost two hours, but he was going to give it his all.
Concentrating on each other, neither Harris nor Faith noticed the swirling mists of blue-grey smog that began forming about two nearby graves. Graves that were part of a large plot set up ten years ago by a devastated Xander. Graves that held the bodies of his friends killed during Angelus's original rampage. Graves that belonged to Buffy Summers and Anya Harris.
The smog spiraled upwards, forming human shapes, and solidified into the beings of Buffy and Anya. The two women looked about, disoriented, and quickly zeroed in on the dueling Xander and Faith, about five yards from them. Trading looks of trepidation, the two beat a path for the combatants.
"Xander!" yelled Anya, running for her love.
Buffy headed for Faith, only slightly surprised to see her as a vampire, eager to keep her from killing Xander. She came to a sliding halt between the two, stake in hand, and glared at Faith with open contempt.
Anya went to wrap her arms around Xander, crying out in surprise as she flashed right through him to come to a stumbling stop. She spun around, confused as to what just happened, and looked to Xander with pleading eyes.
Harris apparently hadn't even noticed her, concentrating instead on the form of Buffy standing between him and Faith. His face was a mask of anger, rage his apparent reaction to the unexpected arrival of the long dead Slayer.
"Buffy," he snarled, still holding his sword at the ready. "What in the hell are you doing here? You're dead!"
Faith's brow furrowed as she looked at Xander in confusion.
"No I'm not, Xander," said Buffy, keeping her attention on Faith. "You're trapped in a…uh…an either…no…an…damn it, Giles told me…"
"Netherworld plain!" yelled Anya.
"Yeah, that's it," agreed Buffy.
"Anya?" wondered Xander, finally noticing her. "This is too much."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" demanded Faith. Then she smiled again, asking "is the Executioner losing it?"
"She can't see us," said Buffy.
"Buffy, I went right through him like…like a ghost."
"You are a ghost," said Xander, turning back to face Faith. "You're both ghosts."
"No, we're not," countered Anya. "Xander listen to us. You're trapped in a netherworld plain created by that ring that Willow gave you."
"What ring?" demanded Xander, looking quickly to his hands. "The only ring I ever wear is my wedding ring."
"That's not what it is," cried Anya. "Please, you have to listen to us, this is your only chance."
"Shouldn't talk to ghosts, Harris," said Faith. "It's distracting."
She lunged at him, passing through the form of Buffy to come flying at him with a snarl on her face and her claws poised to strike. Xander brought his sword up, but with his concentration broken by the distraction of the ghostly figures of Anya and Buffy, he wasn't fast enough. Instead of driving the sword through Faith's heart, the sword pierced her shoulder, foiling her attack but not killing her.
Faith and Xander slammed to the ground, the vampire gritting her teeth in pain as she wretched the sword from her shoulder. Xander rolled away from her, quickly rising to his feet, and pulled his .45s. He knew the guns wouldn't kill her, but they could do enough damage to buy him some time.
"Xander, take off the ring!" screamed Anya.
"Shut up!" yelled Harris, emptying both clips of his guns into the withering Faith.
The barrage of slugs tore into the vampire's chest and face, doing serious damage and locking her in the throws of agony. Faith was a powerful vampire, as was evident by the way that her body began healing almost immediately, and Harris cursed, knowing he had not bought himself as much time as he had hoped.
"Xander, you have to take off the ring to dispel this nightmare," pleaded Buffy.
"Leave me alone!" shouted Harris, turning and fleeing towards Spike's tomb.
He hit the heavy door hard, slamming it open, and immediately shut it behind him, sliding a large iron bar into place to effectively lock it. He looked about the dark chamber, trying to decide which booby-trap he should try and use against Faith. They had only set up three in here, confident that once she was inside, all of them would be able to take her out, and now that was working against him. The traps required at least two people, or someone with the speed of a vampire, to trigger, and Harris was wondering if he could pull it off.
Buffy and Anya materialized behind him, simply stepping through the walls, and continued their arguments.
"Xander Harris, listen to me," said Anya. "I love you with all of my heart, and I have spent the last two weeks setting by your side as you slowly slipped away from us. I will not loose you, not this way, not this time."
"You're a ghost, Anya," spat Harris. "You died a long time ago."
With a boom, a crack appeared in the solid door of the tomb, Faith having apparently healed enough to come after him with a vengeance. Her screams of hate and frustration could dimly be heard through the thick, stone walls.
"Xander, listen to her," said Buffy. "Willow was doing a spell of enlightenment on you because you kept bugging her about knowing your future. Her power reactivated the magic in the ring that she gave you for your birthday. It's called a ring of despair, and it's a cursed relic."
"Buffy, stop," said Xander, calmly, despite another shattering blow being delt to the door by Faith. "You and Anya are dead. Yes, I remember Willow's spell, but that was twelve years ago and it didn't work."
"Xander…" started Anya, silenced by a glare from Harris.
"When Faith got out on parole, she started working for Angel and they fell in love. Wesley thought he found a spell that would keep Angel from changing, but it was a fake. An old trap set by Wolfram and Hart that had been planted along time ago but never used.
"When Faith and Angel did the nasty, Angelus came back with a fury. He sired Faith then and there, and the two of them went on a bloody rampage. The rest, as I say, is history."
"It's a lie, Xander," argued Buffy.
"No, you're the lie. Everyday I think that maybe this is some horrible dream, that I'll wake up and everything will be back to normal. Or that I am under the influence of some dark magic, and you are all trying to save me."
"That's what this is, Xander," stressed Buffy.
"Buffy," whispered Anya, a sad look falling over her face.
"No, it's not. This is the real world, Buffy. You're part of the lie that I keep telling myself just might come true."
"Buffy," said Anya, a little louder, getting the attention of the Slayer. "He's right."
Buffy looked at her incredulously.
"I remember," said Anya, pain in her voice. "I remember what he did to me. He made me one of them and left me there to die while Xander was forced to watch."
"Anya, your feeling the affects of the ring," said Buffy, her voice tinged with just a bit of doubt.
"Buffy," said Xander, looking at her with sad eyes. "You died ten years ago at the hands of Angelus."
Tears began burning at Buffy's eyes, the memories slowly flaming to life in her mind. She remembered it all; Angelus showing up, pretending to be Angel, before they had heard of what had happened in LA; surprise let him overpower her, and she awoke to find herself chained to a chair, her mother's lifeless body sprawled out before her.
"Oh, God, no," sobbed Buffy, the memory of Faith entering the room then, smiling at her and asking if she was five by five. "This can't be. Angel sent us in to rescue you."
"You can't rescue me, Buffy," said Xander, sadly. "Neither can Anya. You're both just figments of my imagination."
The door to the tomb crashed down in a cloud of dust, the silhouette of Faith outlined by the white glow of a half moon. She held stakes in both hands, having retrieved the weapons, and she was huffing with exertion and anger. The front of her was mostly shadow, but Harris could tell that she hadn't healed completely, and that ment that she would need to feed soon or risk being permanently marred.
"You are so dead," she growled.
"I think you got that backwards," replied Harris, throwing the last weapon that he had with him.
The razor sharp throwing disk zipped through the air, striking an innocent looking rope tied to the wall next to Faith. At the same time, Harris leapt to his left, knocking over a strategically placed pole that helped support Spike's favorite surprise.
The beam was roughly a foot thick, four feet long, round, and sharpened to a fine point. It swung down on thick cables, gliding invisibly through the darkness on a direct course for the open doorway. Faith's eyes widened in surprise, the gigantic stake slamming into her and turning her into a cloud of dust before it broke free of it's cables to sail out into the cemetery.
Harris looked about the tomb, hoping to at least say goodbye to his love, and felt a pang of regret that the tomb was empty. Nodding to himself, his face once again set in the dispassionate glare that was renowned to the Executioner, Harris walked out of the tomb and into the night.
Elsewhere…
The members of the Scooby Gang, and their two friends from LA, stood around the still form of Xander, laying motionlessly on the hospital bed. A dull, constant beep rang out from one of the many machines hooked to him, it's cry ignored by all that were left to this world.
Around them, darkness grew, slowly eating away at the world until there was nothing left but them. They looked at each other, none saying a word as they vanished back into the distant reaches of the hopeful imagination of Xander Harris, the Executioner.
