Author: trwhite1@swbell.net. Please send any feedback to this address.
Thank you.
RATING: R
CONTENT: Language
SPOILER WARNINGS:
SUMMARY: A demon laments over his recent reassignment.....to Sunnydale.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used from the BTVS show. They are all owned by Joss Wendon, Fox, and whomever else may have a legal claim on them. All original characters, locations, and story lines are mine, but may be used if I am clearly credited for their creation. Any questions, please ask.
Demons Lament
Hell Dimension
In all the dimensions that could be considered hell-like by the human race, there are some that no human soul has ever seen. These dimensions are set aside for the use of demons alone, without all the mucking about of humankind. In one of these, near the Fields of Flesh, but not too close to the Fall's of Fear, there is a bar. It's not really a bar in the sense that we know of it, but it's the nearest thing to a bar that exists here. By some weird cosmic joke, the name of the bar is Rick's.
Sitting at the bar, which was made of something that seemed to move all the time, but never really got anywhere, was Dark. His name was always something of a source of pride for him. Humans thought that Dark meant night, or blackness, or evil, which is why he was proud of it. In the demon language, Dark meant roughly the same as "small little demon that couldn't scare a damn thing". Dark was drinking Bile of Artuk, which was one of the nastiest drinks in existence, sitting somewhere between rhino piss and a martini at this little bar in Tanzania that Dark dropped in too one evening. Dark was never in a good mood when he drank Artuk, which is why he drank it. When a demon is hacked off, nothing makes his day more than a really bad drink.
Barthos saw his friend sitting at the bar as soon as he walked in, which was too say that he sensed he was there, as Dark was without corporal form at the moment. This was never a problem in a hell dimension, since pretty much anything goes. He walked up to the stool beside his friend, pulled it out, and sat down. The fact that the seat was made of sharpened rocks never even caused him to pause. He looked in the direction of Dark's aura and sneered.
"I hate when you drink that shit." He growled through a mouth full of teeth.
Barthos ordered a mug of virgin's blood, and took a long drink.
"Damn, that's tasty." He said, smacking his lips.
He looked over at his friend, and noticing that he still hadn't said anything, asked, "So what's got a hold of your crotch?"
He could feel he friend sigh. When a demon aura sighs, it has the effect of causing mucus to form over the area where he is.
"Damn it, Dark," Barthos yelled, "You wanna watch that shit? What in the name of all that's unholy is up with you?"
"I got reassigned." Said Dark, and he sighed again.
Barthos pulled a long string of mucus off of his leg, and flung it behind him. It was snatched out of the air and swallowed by a little demon with bat wings that had been waiting for someone to toss him a snack.
"So what's the big deal?" Barthos asked, reaching for his drink that the bar had moved three feet to the left. "We all get reassigned from time to time."
A small note should be made here that the above passages aside, it should not be inferred that the Forces of Hell are organized in any normal sense. Demons can be forced to go anywhere the powers of evil wish them to go. The only thing that keeps a demon in one place is if he is really, really bad at his job. Which goes to show you how things are run.
"Yeah," said Dark, "But this one is really getting to me."
Barthos thought for a second. Dark was no slouch in the demon department. From time immemorial, Dark had been one of the top's in terror. Something was odd.
"So, what's the assignment?" he asked.
"Hellmouth. I got a Hellmouth." Dark said, and took another long drink.
Barthos blinked. Hellmouth's were prime territory. The barrier between the hell dimensions and Earth were really weak, and you could do a lot of damage in really short order.
"I don't get it. The last Hellmouth I got was a blast." Said Barthos, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah? I bet you a dozen kittens that it wasn't Sunnydale." Said Dark, and he ordered another round.
Barthos let out a long whistle.
"Who in all the Regions of Night did you piss off?" he asked. "The Slayer, huh?"
Dark threw his mug against the wall as soon as it appeared in front of him.
"Yeah, the fucking Slayer. Every damn time I pop into a body, looking for a little blood letting, that bitch of a Slayer comes along and shoves a damn tree branch into it."
Barthos was truly sorry for Dark. Jumping into a body to make it a vampire makes a demon really weak, which is what allows the human personality to come through. It can take hundreds of earth years for the demon to take real control (Unless he took extraordinary measures, which they almost never did), but since you still got to enjoy all the killing, it was like a vacation. But a Slayer around could screw all that up.
"Damn, that sucks." He said. "How many bodies you used up so far?"
"34" said Dark. "Every fucking time…"he trailed off.
"Even so, what are you going to do? Your stuck until something else comes along." said Barthos finishing off his drink.
"Ya know what?" asked Dark, "Fuck it. Just fuck it. The next time is gonna be different."
"Yeah, sure Dark." Said Barthos, standing up. "I've got to go. We're storming the Gates of Bliss this afternoon, and I got to report in."
"You just wait and see," Dark mumbled, "next time, fuck it….."
Sunnydale, CA.
Buffy walked into the room with a stunned expression on her face. She sat her bag down, and then slumped into a chair.
Giles had watched her come in, and at first thought that something was wrong, but then saw the confusion on the slayers face.
"Buffy," he said, "what's wrong?"
The Slayer looked at him, then looked at the door, and then looked at him again.
"I was out patrolling. I'm walking along, when this vamp walks up to me. He stops, looks at me and says, "There you are! Just do it and get it over with!"
Giles looked at the slayer for a moment.
"He wanted you to stake him?" he asked.
"Yeah. I mean, he acted like he was looking for me, and then when he found me, he was all like "Just stake me, c'mon do it."
Buffy looked at her Watcher.
"So, did you? Stake him, I mean." Asked Giles.
"Yeah. And when I stuck the stake in, right before he went poof, he looked at me and said "Every damn time".
Giles and Buffy looked at each other, and they both shrugged.
RATING: R
CONTENT: Language
SPOILER WARNINGS:
SUMMARY: A demon laments over his recent reassignment.....to Sunnydale.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used from the BTVS show. They are all owned by Joss Wendon, Fox, and whomever else may have a legal claim on them. All original characters, locations, and story lines are mine, but may be used if I am clearly credited for their creation. Any questions, please ask.
Demons Lament
Hell Dimension
In all the dimensions that could be considered hell-like by the human race, there are some that no human soul has ever seen. These dimensions are set aside for the use of demons alone, without all the mucking about of humankind. In one of these, near the Fields of Flesh, but not too close to the Fall's of Fear, there is a bar. It's not really a bar in the sense that we know of it, but it's the nearest thing to a bar that exists here. By some weird cosmic joke, the name of the bar is Rick's.
Sitting at the bar, which was made of something that seemed to move all the time, but never really got anywhere, was Dark. His name was always something of a source of pride for him. Humans thought that Dark meant night, or blackness, or evil, which is why he was proud of it. In the demon language, Dark meant roughly the same as "small little demon that couldn't scare a damn thing". Dark was drinking Bile of Artuk, which was one of the nastiest drinks in existence, sitting somewhere between rhino piss and a martini at this little bar in Tanzania that Dark dropped in too one evening. Dark was never in a good mood when he drank Artuk, which is why he drank it. When a demon is hacked off, nothing makes his day more than a really bad drink.
Barthos saw his friend sitting at the bar as soon as he walked in, which was too say that he sensed he was there, as Dark was without corporal form at the moment. This was never a problem in a hell dimension, since pretty much anything goes. He walked up to the stool beside his friend, pulled it out, and sat down. The fact that the seat was made of sharpened rocks never even caused him to pause. He looked in the direction of Dark's aura and sneered.
"I hate when you drink that shit." He growled through a mouth full of teeth.
Barthos ordered a mug of virgin's blood, and took a long drink.
"Damn, that's tasty." He said, smacking his lips.
He looked over at his friend, and noticing that he still hadn't said anything, asked, "So what's got a hold of your crotch?"
He could feel he friend sigh. When a demon aura sighs, it has the effect of causing mucus to form over the area where he is.
"Damn it, Dark," Barthos yelled, "You wanna watch that shit? What in the name of all that's unholy is up with you?"
"I got reassigned." Said Dark, and he sighed again.
Barthos pulled a long string of mucus off of his leg, and flung it behind him. It was snatched out of the air and swallowed by a little demon with bat wings that had been waiting for someone to toss him a snack.
"So what's the big deal?" Barthos asked, reaching for his drink that the bar had moved three feet to the left. "We all get reassigned from time to time."
A small note should be made here that the above passages aside, it should not be inferred that the Forces of Hell are organized in any normal sense. Demons can be forced to go anywhere the powers of evil wish them to go. The only thing that keeps a demon in one place is if he is really, really bad at his job. Which goes to show you how things are run.
"Yeah," said Dark, "But this one is really getting to me."
Barthos thought for a second. Dark was no slouch in the demon department. From time immemorial, Dark had been one of the top's in terror. Something was odd.
"So, what's the assignment?" he asked.
"Hellmouth. I got a Hellmouth." Dark said, and took another long drink.
Barthos blinked. Hellmouth's were prime territory. The barrier between the hell dimensions and Earth were really weak, and you could do a lot of damage in really short order.
"I don't get it. The last Hellmouth I got was a blast." Said Barthos, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah? I bet you a dozen kittens that it wasn't Sunnydale." Said Dark, and he ordered another round.
Barthos let out a long whistle.
"Who in all the Regions of Night did you piss off?" he asked. "The Slayer, huh?"
Dark threw his mug against the wall as soon as it appeared in front of him.
"Yeah, the fucking Slayer. Every damn time I pop into a body, looking for a little blood letting, that bitch of a Slayer comes along and shoves a damn tree branch into it."
Barthos was truly sorry for Dark. Jumping into a body to make it a vampire makes a demon really weak, which is what allows the human personality to come through. It can take hundreds of earth years for the demon to take real control (Unless he took extraordinary measures, which they almost never did), but since you still got to enjoy all the killing, it was like a vacation. But a Slayer around could screw all that up.
"Damn, that sucks." He said. "How many bodies you used up so far?"
"34" said Dark. "Every fucking time…"he trailed off.
"Even so, what are you going to do? Your stuck until something else comes along." said Barthos finishing off his drink.
"Ya know what?" asked Dark, "Fuck it. Just fuck it. The next time is gonna be different."
"Yeah, sure Dark." Said Barthos, standing up. "I've got to go. We're storming the Gates of Bliss this afternoon, and I got to report in."
"You just wait and see," Dark mumbled, "next time, fuck it….."
Sunnydale, CA.
Buffy walked into the room with a stunned expression on her face. She sat her bag down, and then slumped into a chair.
Giles had watched her come in, and at first thought that something was wrong, but then saw the confusion on the slayers face.
"Buffy," he said, "what's wrong?"
The Slayer looked at him, then looked at the door, and then looked at him again.
"I was out patrolling. I'm walking along, when this vamp walks up to me. He stops, looks at me and says, "There you are! Just do it and get it over with!"
Giles looked at the slayer for a moment.
"He wanted you to stake him?" he asked.
"Yeah. I mean, he acted like he was looking for me, and then when he found me, he was all like "Just stake me, c'mon do it."
Buffy looked at her Watcher.
"So, did you? Stake him, I mean." Asked Giles.
"Yeah. And when I stuck the stake in, right before he went poof, he looked at me and said "Every damn time".
Giles and Buffy looked at each other, and they both shrugged.