TITLE: Hell Unleashed
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: R
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
AN: Thanks to all of you who helped me in choosing names for the devils!
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 7
---------------------------------
"Let me get this straight." The blond goddess said. "I died. Fluffy died. Somehow,
Daddy resurrected us, and now we are both alive. And now we are on the same side?" She
sat lazily on a plush divan, sipping a cocktail.
"Yes, oh splendorous one." Jynx bowed.
"Huh. Interesting." She puffed, never looking up at the minions. She took the lime
from the cocktail glass into her well-manicured hand and sucked on it. "So, what does
Daddy expect little *me* to do?"
The minions looked at each other nervously. "We-- we don't know, oh resplend--" One of
them started bravely.
"Leave." Glory cut him off, waving her hand. "I *said* leave!" She commanded as they
hesitated.
The brave one was about to protest when an elder clapped a hand over the youngster's mouth.
"As you wish, my Lady."
She motioned for the others to leave and turned to the door herself when Glory spoke again.
"Wait. You stay." She demanded, pointing a lazy finger at the elder. "You seem--
intelligent. For a little scabby minion, but hey! Anyways, what is going on, and what
is Daddy planning?"
"My Lady, the Great Lord is at war with the Angelic Alliance, and he is collecting the
legions. He believes you may be of use."
"Damn right, I'm useful." Glory said contemptuously. "Where is he now?"
"The Dark Prince is here in Sunnydale at the moment. I believe he is lodging at the castle
at the moment, oh glorious one."
"Take me to him."
* * *
Kalika stood before Charna, the Second Devil, awaiting the woman's decision. Charna was
not large, nor was her human form pretty, but her presence was powerful and held a certain
grace which could only be mastered by one who had lived so long as she. She rarely spoke,
for words were meaningless in her context, but when she did, her tones were subtle, soft,
and yet commanding.
No one ever dared oppose her.
The whisper went that she and Lucifer, although siblings, often shared the same bed. Charna
had never denied this, nor had she confirmed it; she treated gossip with disdain.
"Kalika." She said in her sweet bell-tones, yet it was cruel, the way she hid the unspoken.
"Perhaps you would like to tell us what happened today, at the mansion."
Kalika did not pretend to misunderstand. "I was there to bring the vampires to their new
home when Darla, one of Angelus' women, heard glass shattering. We were going to
investigate when the house simply exploded. I ran out of the house to find Miss Summers
standing out there. It was-- it was she who set the bomb there." She stated meekly.
"Ah. Buffy Summers. Now why would she bomb the mansion when there were more than fifty
of her kind inside, all willing to serve *her*?" Charna leaned forward from her chair,
her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"She said Lord Lucifer had sent her a dream, telling her the location of the angels."
"Yet we do not know the location of the angels, and Lucifer never contacted her after you
did." Her eyes flashed dangerously.
Kalika nodded. "It was one of the angels impersonating the Lord. She says that her dream
was white instead of red."
"Tell me. Did you not feel her coming, Kalika? Did you not hear Miss Summers' thoughts?
Why did you not stop her before she reached within a mile of the mansion? Hmm?"
The younger woman trembled noticeably. "My Lady, you know that I do not have those
powers. I cannot-- I cannot read minds like the elders."
Charna cocked her head to one side and smiled cruelly at Kalika. "Who are you to tell me
what I know and do not know?" She sneered.
Kalika was silent and kept her head lowered.
"Why did Lucifer send you here, do you think? Because I really don't know, Kalika. You
are young and your powers are minimal. What do you think?"
"I-- I don't know, my Lady."
"Perhaps because you are dispensable." She laughed, and turned to Erra, who stood at the
doorway. She nodded at him and he came forward, his face set, his expression grim. He
resembled Lucifer in a way, but he was taller, darker, and his eyes were a dark, murky
green.
Kalika turned around to see him holding a small dagger in his gloved hand, the hilt embedded
with jewels for every colour of the rainbow.
Her eyes widened.
She gasped, but before she could utter a word, he had slit her throat, letting her black
blood stain her blouse. She gagged for a second, struggling in his arms, and after a
minute she lay still.
Erra looked at her with sad eyes. He had loved her for millenia. Finally, he released her
from his grip, and before she could hit the ground, she had turned to ash.
Charna smiled at Erra seductively, indifferent about her fellow devil's death. She rose
from her chair and said, "Erra, let's have dinner, hmm?" She took his hand and pulled him
out the door, grinding her heel against Kalika's remains as she left.
* * *
"Spike, you lied." Buffy stood at the door of his crypt, staring at him menacingly.
"What do you mean, luv?" He moved towards her, his head cocked, suspicious.
"Fuck you, Spike. Don't play your stupid little games on me." She spat. "I was an idiot
to trust you."
Spike froze, and the little colour he had drained from his face. "Buffy, I--"
"I don't want to hear it! How dare you do this to me? I believed you. You said that
you would never tell me anything but the truth, and you were lying as you spoke." She
yelled, gesturing wildly.
He didn't know what to say. "I did it for you--"
"Don't tell me this. You know what? I actually *believed* you when you said you loved me.
Yeah." She nodded. "I really did. And I ended up falling for you. Pfft. What a
mistake."
In a way, his heart warmed at the sound of confession, but this was not when he had hoped
to hear it. His eyes darkened. "I do love you, Buffy. How can you say that I don't?"
"Spike, you don't know what love is."
"And you do?" He glared at her. "What do you know? I loved you the first time I layed
eyes on you, even though I didn't know what it was, and mistook it for bloodlust. I loved
you, even when you told me to leave this town. I loved you when we were fighting Glory
and we risked our lives. My heart was torn after you died. And then, two months later,
you just come waltzing back into my life and screw-- everything up, I *still* loved you."
His face was so close to hers now that she could feel his non-existent breath. He looked
intently into her eyes. "And even now, I love you." He looked at her pleadingly, his
eyes beginng to water.
She turned away and walked out the door, swinging a backpack over her shoulder. "Great time
to tell me that, Spike. Great."
* * *
Faith was a hazardous driver. She raced along the freeway at 75 miles per hour, belting
out rock tunes to the radio, which was cranked up at its highest notch. She passed the
sign "Welcome to Sunnydale" and drove on for a bit, before she decided to stop at the
gas station for junk food. There was no junk in jail, of course, so she took full advantage
of the fact that she was free.
She picked up two bags of Lays, a box of Smarties, and a Mr. Big chocolate bar. She smiled
as she dropped them onto the counter and pulled out her black leather wallet, now fat with
the money Dylan had given her.
As she walked out into the sunshine, swinging her little plastic bag of goodies, she felt
someone-- something-- close by. Her slayer instincts kicked in as she listened for more
movement.
Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she whirled around, her feet meeting her
assailant's chest with a crunch. She looked down to see a man on the ground, spitting...
something silver?
Oh God, she thought, and her first instinct was to flee. If this man died, they would be
after her again, and she would land back in jail. She knelt over him and to her surprise,
he got up. "Are you okay?" She inquired, worriedly.
"Yes. Quite." His accent was strange, unfamiliar. She couldn't distinguish where it came
from, and it intrigued her. "You are Faith, I presume?"
"Yes." She raised her eyebrow. "How did you know?"
"I am one of Dylan's associates. Thomas." He held out his hand.
She shook it hesitantly. "Who is Dylan, exactly? I've never heard of him. You're not
from the Watcher's Council." She frowned.
"No, we are not. The Council works for us." He smiled at her. "Let's find you a place to
stay." He began to lead her to her car.
She was not distracted. "Then who are you?" She narrowed her eyes.
Thomas sighed. "You probably wouldn't believe us if we told you, so I might as well let
Dylan tell you later."
"Try me."
"Faith, I'm only supposed to escort you to the hotel, because there will be many Big Bads
out looking for you."
"I can deal with them." She snorted.
"These ones? I don't know."
"Then explain."
He rolled his eyes in defeat and took a deep breath. "We-- are angels."
She opened her eyes wide. "Angels?" She chuckled nervously. "This isn't a joke, is it?"
"I'm not joking, Faith. And the people looking for you are devils. I don't think you'd
like to fight them, seeing as there are four of them."
She froze. "Devils? Four?" She felt the goosebumps creeping up both her arms, which was
strange, because Faith was never afraid.
"Yes." And he explained about the war.
* * *
"Hey, guys." Willow said merrily as she and Giles walked into the Magic Box.
"Hey hey," Xander waved from behind the counter. He had been helping Anya manage the shop
during Giles' absence.
"How was your trip?" Anya smiled, as usual. "Did you find the flower?" Her curls bobbed
on her shoulders as she spoke.
"Yup." said Willow, producing the flower from behind her back. "Now all we need is
something that belongs to Buffy."
"Well that should be easy," Xander put in. "There's lots of her things in her house
still."
Giles shook his head. "No, it's not that simple. The object has to be part of something
which will be on her while we do the spell. For example, if she wears a locket, we take
part of the chain. The rest of the chain is on her, so the pheonix will come to whoever
possesses the other part of the chain."
"It doesn't have to be a chain though, right?" Xander queried.
"No, that's just an example. It can be anything. It's hard to say what she will be wearing
that day, though." He thought for a moment, taking his glasses off.
"I know, her hair!" Willow exclaimed. "We'll find a strand of hair that belongs to her."
Everyone looked at her and smiled.
"Willow, you are a genius." Anya said sincerely.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
STEVE FARRELL: Look, it's Xander! I know, not many lines, but it's the best I can do. :)
There'll be more of him in the next two chapters.
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: R
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
AN: Thanks to all of you who helped me in choosing names for the devils!
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 7
---------------------------------
"Let me get this straight." The blond goddess said. "I died. Fluffy died. Somehow,
Daddy resurrected us, and now we are both alive. And now we are on the same side?" She
sat lazily on a plush divan, sipping a cocktail.
"Yes, oh splendorous one." Jynx bowed.
"Huh. Interesting." She puffed, never looking up at the minions. She took the lime
from the cocktail glass into her well-manicured hand and sucked on it. "So, what does
Daddy expect little *me* to do?"
The minions looked at each other nervously. "We-- we don't know, oh resplend--" One of
them started bravely.
"Leave." Glory cut him off, waving her hand. "I *said* leave!" She commanded as they
hesitated.
The brave one was about to protest when an elder clapped a hand over the youngster's mouth.
"As you wish, my Lady."
She motioned for the others to leave and turned to the door herself when Glory spoke again.
"Wait. You stay." She demanded, pointing a lazy finger at the elder. "You seem--
intelligent. For a little scabby minion, but hey! Anyways, what is going on, and what
is Daddy planning?"
"My Lady, the Great Lord is at war with the Angelic Alliance, and he is collecting the
legions. He believes you may be of use."
"Damn right, I'm useful." Glory said contemptuously. "Where is he now?"
"The Dark Prince is here in Sunnydale at the moment. I believe he is lodging at the castle
at the moment, oh glorious one."
"Take me to him."
* * *
Kalika stood before Charna, the Second Devil, awaiting the woman's decision. Charna was
not large, nor was her human form pretty, but her presence was powerful and held a certain
grace which could only be mastered by one who had lived so long as she. She rarely spoke,
for words were meaningless in her context, but when she did, her tones were subtle, soft,
and yet commanding.
No one ever dared oppose her.
The whisper went that she and Lucifer, although siblings, often shared the same bed. Charna
had never denied this, nor had she confirmed it; she treated gossip with disdain.
"Kalika." She said in her sweet bell-tones, yet it was cruel, the way she hid the unspoken.
"Perhaps you would like to tell us what happened today, at the mansion."
Kalika did not pretend to misunderstand. "I was there to bring the vampires to their new
home when Darla, one of Angelus' women, heard glass shattering. We were going to
investigate when the house simply exploded. I ran out of the house to find Miss Summers
standing out there. It was-- it was she who set the bomb there." She stated meekly.
"Ah. Buffy Summers. Now why would she bomb the mansion when there were more than fifty
of her kind inside, all willing to serve *her*?" Charna leaned forward from her chair,
her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"She said Lord Lucifer had sent her a dream, telling her the location of the angels."
"Yet we do not know the location of the angels, and Lucifer never contacted her after you
did." Her eyes flashed dangerously.
Kalika nodded. "It was one of the angels impersonating the Lord. She says that her dream
was white instead of red."
"Tell me. Did you not feel her coming, Kalika? Did you not hear Miss Summers' thoughts?
Why did you not stop her before she reached within a mile of the mansion? Hmm?"
The younger woman trembled noticeably. "My Lady, you know that I do not have those
powers. I cannot-- I cannot read minds like the elders."
Charna cocked her head to one side and smiled cruelly at Kalika. "Who are you to tell me
what I know and do not know?" She sneered.
Kalika was silent and kept her head lowered.
"Why did Lucifer send you here, do you think? Because I really don't know, Kalika. You
are young and your powers are minimal. What do you think?"
"I-- I don't know, my Lady."
"Perhaps because you are dispensable." She laughed, and turned to Erra, who stood at the
doorway. She nodded at him and he came forward, his face set, his expression grim. He
resembled Lucifer in a way, but he was taller, darker, and his eyes were a dark, murky
green.
Kalika turned around to see him holding a small dagger in his gloved hand, the hilt embedded
with jewels for every colour of the rainbow.
Her eyes widened.
She gasped, but before she could utter a word, he had slit her throat, letting her black
blood stain her blouse. She gagged for a second, struggling in his arms, and after a
minute she lay still.
Erra looked at her with sad eyes. He had loved her for millenia. Finally, he released her
from his grip, and before she could hit the ground, she had turned to ash.
Charna smiled at Erra seductively, indifferent about her fellow devil's death. She rose
from her chair and said, "Erra, let's have dinner, hmm?" She took his hand and pulled him
out the door, grinding her heel against Kalika's remains as she left.
* * *
"Spike, you lied." Buffy stood at the door of his crypt, staring at him menacingly.
"What do you mean, luv?" He moved towards her, his head cocked, suspicious.
"Fuck you, Spike. Don't play your stupid little games on me." She spat. "I was an idiot
to trust you."
Spike froze, and the little colour he had drained from his face. "Buffy, I--"
"I don't want to hear it! How dare you do this to me? I believed you. You said that
you would never tell me anything but the truth, and you were lying as you spoke." She
yelled, gesturing wildly.
He didn't know what to say. "I did it for you--"
"Don't tell me this. You know what? I actually *believed* you when you said you loved me.
Yeah." She nodded. "I really did. And I ended up falling for you. Pfft. What a
mistake."
In a way, his heart warmed at the sound of confession, but this was not when he had hoped
to hear it. His eyes darkened. "I do love you, Buffy. How can you say that I don't?"
"Spike, you don't know what love is."
"And you do?" He glared at her. "What do you know? I loved you the first time I layed
eyes on you, even though I didn't know what it was, and mistook it for bloodlust. I loved
you, even when you told me to leave this town. I loved you when we were fighting Glory
and we risked our lives. My heart was torn after you died. And then, two months later,
you just come waltzing back into my life and screw-- everything up, I *still* loved you."
His face was so close to hers now that she could feel his non-existent breath. He looked
intently into her eyes. "And even now, I love you." He looked at her pleadingly, his
eyes beginng to water.
She turned away and walked out the door, swinging a backpack over her shoulder. "Great time
to tell me that, Spike. Great."
* * *
Faith was a hazardous driver. She raced along the freeway at 75 miles per hour, belting
out rock tunes to the radio, which was cranked up at its highest notch. She passed the
sign "Welcome to Sunnydale" and drove on for a bit, before she decided to stop at the
gas station for junk food. There was no junk in jail, of course, so she took full advantage
of the fact that she was free.
She picked up two bags of Lays, a box of Smarties, and a Mr. Big chocolate bar. She smiled
as she dropped them onto the counter and pulled out her black leather wallet, now fat with
the money Dylan had given her.
As she walked out into the sunshine, swinging her little plastic bag of goodies, she felt
someone-- something-- close by. Her slayer instincts kicked in as she listened for more
movement.
Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she whirled around, her feet meeting her
assailant's chest with a crunch. She looked down to see a man on the ground, spitting...
something silver?
Oh God, she thought, and her first instinct was to flee. If this man died, they would be
after her again, and she would land back in jail. She knelt over him and to her surprise,
he got up. "Are you okay?" She inquired, worriedly.
"Yes. Quite." His accent was strange, unfamiliar. She couldn't distinguish where it came
from, and it intrigued her. "You are Faith, I presume?"
"Yes." She raised her eyebrow. "How did you know?"
"I am one of Dylan's associates. Thomas." He held out his hand.
She shook it hesitantly. "Who is Dylan, exactly? I've never heard of him. You're not
from the Watcher's Council." She frowned.
"No, we are not. The Council works for us." He smiled at her. "Let's find you a place to
stay." He began to lead her to her car.
She was not distracted. "Then who are you?" She narrowed her eyes.
Thomas sighed. "You probably wouldn't believe us if we told you, so I might as well let
Dylan tell you later."
"Try me."
"Faith, I'm only supposed to escort you to the hotel, because there will be many Big Bads
out looking for you."
"I can deal with them." She snorted.
"These ones? I don't know."
"Then explain."
He rolled his eyes in defeat and took a deep breath. "We-- are angels."
She opened her eyes wide. "Angels?" She chuckled nervously. "This isn't a joke, is it?"
"I'm not joking, Faith. And the people looking for you are devils. I don't think you'd
like to fight them, seeing as there are four of them."
She froze. "Devils? Four?" She felt the goosebumps creeping up both her arms, which was
strange, because Faith was never afraid.
"Yes." And he explained about the war.
* * *
"Hey, guys." Willow said merrily as she and Giles walked into the Magic Box.
"Hey hey," Xander waved from behind the counter. He had been helping Anya manage the shop
during Giles' absence.
"How was your trip?" Anya smiled, as usual. "Did you find the flower?" Her curls bobbed
on her shoulders as she spoke.
"Yup." said Willow, producing the flower from behind her back. "Now all we need is
something that belongs to Buffy."
"Well that should be easy," Xander put in. "There's lots of her things in her house
still."
Giles shook his head. "No, it's not that simple. The object has to be part of something
which will be on her while we do the spell. For example, if she wears a locket, we take
part of the chain. The rest of the chain is on her, so the pheonix will come to whoever
possesses the other part of the chain."
"It doesn't have to be a chain though, right?" Xander queried.
"No, that's just an example. It can be anything. It's hard to say what she will be wearing
that day, though." He thought for a moment, taking his glasses off.
"I know, her hair!" Willow exclaimed. "We'll find a strand of hair that belongs to her."
Everyone looked at her and smiled.
"Willow, you are a genius." Anya said sincerely.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
STEVE FARRELL: Look, it's Xander! I know, not many lines, but it's the best I can do. :)
There'll be more of him in the next two chapters.