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: Sorry for the delay, folks, but here it is!
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 8
---------------------------------
"Donc, le plan a fonctionne?" (So the plan worked?) Inquired Thomas. He and Peter were
sitting at a diner over sandwiches and cola. It was not a formal meeting, only a dinner
outing, and the two were celebrating their latest 'victory'.
"Oui." (Yes.) Peter laughed. "C'etait si facile, personne n'a soupconne chose avant que
c'etait trop tard." (It was terribly easy, no one suspected anything until it was too
late.)
Thomas tensed for a moment, sensing disturbance in the atmosphere. "Pierre. Les Corbeaux
viennent." (Peter. The Ravens are coming.) He whispered.
Peter lowered his glass and froze. Should they meet, they would not escape a brawl.
"Gentlemen." A male voice said in mocking tones.
The two angels turned to see two devils standing beside them. Shit, thought Peter. He
knew that in a close fight, angels were no match for devils in human form, especially
without weapons.
"Erra. Charna." Thomas greeted coldly.
The red-haired female laughed. "No need for hostility, boys." She clucked.
"We don't want trouble." Peter said, standing to face Erra. "Leave."
Unlike Kalika, Charna wore a tight-fitted leather skirt and a low-cut beige halter. She put
her hands on the table and leaned over, spilling her cleavage. "Aw, come on, boys.
We don't bite." She smirked.
A waiter walked by and stuck his head in. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" He asked,
looking at Peter and Erra, who were staring each other down.
"No. No problem." Said Thomas, his teeth clenched.
"Actually yes," Charna stood up straight, smiling at the young man. "Yes, there is a
problem. You see, we," She gestured at Erra and herself. "are these gentlemen's arch
rivals." She articulated the last words slowly, her eyes twinkling. "And we are afraid
that after this confrontation, there will be much.. blood. Do you think you know of a good
drycleaner that will clean blood off of leather?"
The waiter was obviously unnerved, but he refused to let it show. "I'm sorry folks, but
I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"
"That's not necessary." Erra cut him off. "We will stay where we wish, and.. *God* help
those who should stop us." He looked pointedly at the two angels. "Oh but look, he's not
here. He must be too busy to care for his own children." He smirked.
"I'm going to call security," The man threatened.
"You do that," Charna laughed.
Suddenly, Thomas lashed out at her and she went careening into the opposite table, stunning
the family eating there. "Why you little bastard!" She screamed in fury as picked herself
up. "Don't make me use fire, Thomas, don't."
Peter looked at Thomas disbelieveingly and in an instant, Erra had the latter tackled onto
the table and placed in a choke-hold. "Apologize to the lady," He commanded, his teeth
gritted together, in a quiet but deadly tone.
Thomas blurted something unintelligible while Charna and Peter glared at each other, their
eyes like daggers.
"I'm waiting." Erra growled.
"Fuck you." Thomas sputtered.
Erra smiled, and Thomas began to scream. Flames began to grow through the devil's fingers.
Charna grinned wickedly as Peter froze in terror, unable to move for fear.
The flames continued to envelop Thomas' throat.
There were few people in the diner, but every one of them turned to look at the four beings
at the front of the restaurant. They all grew silent when they watched the black-haired
man drop his victim to the ground, the throat of the smaller man black and charred and
burnt through to the bone.
"Let's walk," Erra turned to his partner, smirking. He put a hand around her waist as
they left the scene.
Peter blinked, watching the two devils leave, and sank to the ground, putting a hand under
Thomas' head.
"Someone call 911," The waiter whispered, and the customers made a wild dash to their cell
phones.
"There's no need." Peter trembled, watching Thomas' body disintegrate into light.
* * *
"Spike." Willow looked up from her book in surprise as he entered the magic shop in midday.
She frowned. "Um.. How've you been?"
"Good.. And not so good. Listen, Red, there's something you all should know-- it's Buffy--
she's--"
"Back." Willow finished for him, nodding sadly. "We know. How did *you* know?"
"She, uh, stayed with me for a bit, and then, uh, took off."
"Spike, she came to you, and you didn't tell us?" Willow exclaimed accusingly.
"Well--"
"Spike, she's very powerful now, and she's a threat to us!" Willow's eyes flashed angrily.
Spike sighed. Why had he come to them? He should have known that the blame was always put
on him. He should have know that they would never trust him, especially with his chip out.
Defeated, he turned and walked towards the exit.
"Wait Spike, we need your help." He turned to see Giles coming from the back. "If Buffy
stayed with you for even a day, you may be able to help us."
Spike rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do," He replied flatly.
"We are in the process of performing a ritual to summon beings from netherworlds. To bid
the creature to find Buffy, we need something of hers of which the other half will be on her
at the time of the ritual. Something like a piece of hair."
"You can get hair from her house." Spike said dryly.
"No. Because she was alive when she lived at her house. We need something from after she
became a vampire."
"Yeah? Fine. I'll get it for you. Just bloody well remember that I'm doing you a favour."
He spat as he left the store.
* * *
"They've killed Thomas." Dylan shook his head angrily.
"Lord, are you certain?" Michael furrowed his brow, worried.
"Of course I'm certain!" Dylan declared, glaring at his fellow angel. His expression
softened when he saw Michael's scared look. "When I reach out for him with my mind,
he's not there."
"Perhaps they've taken him to their dimension?"
"No, no. Why would they do that?" Dylan began to pace. "They have no reason to. There
would be nothing for them to do in Inferno that they wouldn't do here." He shook his
head. "No, they must have killed him."
Michael sat silently.
"Where's Faith?" Dylan demanded suddenly.
"She's at her hotel, Lord." Michael stood up. "Shall I get her?"
"Yes. Yes. Tell her we need her here immediately."
* * *
Spike sighed as he looked at the pile of clothes Buffy had left in his crypt. What was he
doing wrong? He shook his head, not understanding women. He ran his pale hands over her
red sweater, closing his eyes and imagining that she was in it.
In his dreams she never wore red. Red was not her colour. He picked up another article,
a pink blouse. He picked a golden strand of hair from it and looked at it for a few
moments.
How he was supposed to know whether it belonged to her before or after her death was beyond
him. He shook his head and let the golden yarn fall to the ground. He sat onto his bed,
and then sank his head down between the pillows.
He remembered when she was alive and came to his crypt after Glory had tortured him. He
had been battered and bruised, and she had kissed him. It may have been out of sympathy,
but it was genuine. His heart had melted and he knew that no matter the pain he suffered,
that one embrace was worth it.
He blinked and saw another piece of hair entwined with the lace edges of his pillow.
Carefully, he pulled it out with two fingers and looking at it, he sighed.
He wondered if all the hurt and betrayal and pain he had caused and was going through was
worth that one night of false bliss.
He shook his head.
It wasn't.
* * *
"But Daddy, pleeeease?" Glory whined.
"Glorificus, stop. You are in no way fit to go home and fight. Look at you! You were
beaten by a *vampire* slayer, and you had wrinkly little minions to do most of the work
for you." Lucifer pointed out.
"Why? Why do you hate me?" She pouted.
"Glory. *Stop*. The answer is no. Don't ask me again."
Glory frowned at him, her expression hurt. "You favour Fluffy to *me*."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I don't favour anyone to anyone. Okay. How about this. You go
kill as many angels as possible, and then if you're a good girl, Daddy will let you come
home." He said in a voice that one would use for children.
"Okay." She brightened up instantly.
Lucifer smiled back falsely.
"So.. where are they?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.
* * *
"512 Gleick Road." Buffy muttered to herself. She hid behind some greenery, cursing to
herself silently as her heel sank into the soil.
She held a longbow and a lighter. Silently, she dipped the end of the arrow into the
lighter's flame and watched as the tip began to burn.
"She's here." She heard a man's voice say faintly. She waited as one of them appeared
about 50 feet from where she stood, closing his eyes in concentration. Purposely she
filled her mind with strange ideas and watched as the angel looked in her direction, without
seeing her, confused.
She pulled the bow back and let the flaming arrow loose.
It struck him between the eyes and he gasped in surprise. Immediately she set up another
arrow and fired it, this time landing in his throat. The angel staggered for a moment, and
she saw that her second arrow had pierced its way through his neck, the tip protruding
sickeningly from the back side.
He was not dead yet. She shook her head as she lighted another arrow. The angel was trying
to pull the shaft from his brow when another came and pinned both his hands to his head.
Buffy smiled grimly as she let loose her last arrow and nodded to herself in satisfaction as
it impaled itself through the angel's heart and set the fabric of his jacket on fire. She
began to walk away as she saw his body slowly turn to light.
"One down, two to go." She said aloud, smirking.
She gasped in surprise as she bumped into a dark figure dressed entirely in black.
She stared for a moment at the familiar face framed by curls of dark hair, and the warm
brown eyes lined thickly with black eyeliner. She ran her eyes in surprise over the glossed
red lips in full pout, and the hardened expression hidden beneath a mock-friendly mask.
"Hey, B. Did you miss me?" The brunette grinned as she knocked Buffy out.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Hey guys, I *really* need feedback! Any ideas or suggestion are *very* welcome!
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: Sorry for the delay, folks, but here it is!
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 8
---------------------------------
"Donc, le plan a fonctionne?" (So the plan worked?) Inquired Thomas. He and Peter were
sitting at a diner over sandwiches and cola. It was not a formal meeting, only a dinner
outing, and the two were celebrating their latest 'victory'.
"Oui." (Yes.) Peter laughed. "C'etait si facile, personne n'a soupconne chose avant que
c'etait trop tard." (It was terribly easy, no one suspected anything until it was too
late.)
Thomas tensed for a moment, sensing disturbance in the atmosphere. "Pierre. Les Corbeaux
viennent." (Peter. The Ravens are coming.) He whispered.
Peter lowered his glass and froze. Should they meet, they would not escape a brawl.
"Gentlemen." A male voice said in mocking tones.
The two angels turned to see two devils standing beside them. Shit, thought Peter. He
knew that in a close fight, angels were no match for devils in human form, especially
without weapons.
"Erra. Charna." Thomas greeted coldly.
The red-haired female laughed. "No need for hostility, boys." She clucked.
"We don't want trouble." Peter said, standing to face Erra. "Leave."
Unlike Kalika, Charna wore a tight-fitted leather skirt and a low-cut beige halter. She put
her hands on the table and leaned over, spilling her cleavage. "Aw, come on, boys.
We don't bite." She smirked.
A waiter walked by and stuck his head in. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" He asked,
looking at Peter and Erra, who were staring each other down.
"No. No problem." Said Thomas, his teeth clenched.
"Actually yes," Charna stood up straight, smiling at the young man. "Yes, there is a
problem. You see, we," She gestured at Erra and herself. "are these gentlemen's arch
rivals." She articulated the last words slowly, her eyes twinkling. "And we are afraid
that after this confrontation, there will be much.. blood. Do you think you know of a good
drycleaner that will clean blood off of leather?"
The waiter was obviously unnerved, but he refused to let it show. "I'm sorry folks, but
I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"
"That's not necessary." Erra cut him off. "We will stay where we wish, and.. *God* help
those who should stop us." He looked pointedly at the two angels. "Oh but look, he's not
here. He must be too busy to care for his own children." He smirked.
"I'm going to call security," The man threatened.
"You do that," Charna laughed.
Suddenly, Thomas lashed out at her and she went careening into the opposite table, stunning
the family eating there. "Why you little bastard!" She screamed in fury as picked herself
up. "Don't make me use fire, Thomas, don't."
Peter looked at Thomas disbelieveingly and in an instant, Erra had the latter tackled onto
the table and placed in a choke-hold. "Apologize to the lady," He commanded, his teeth
gritted together, in a quiet but deadly tone.
Thomas blurted something unintelligible while Charna and Peter glared at each other, their
eyes like daggers.
"I'm waiting." Erra growled.
"Fuck you." Thomas sputtered.
Erra smiled, and Thomas began to scream. Flames began to grow through the devil's fingers.
Charna grinned wickedly as Peter froze in terror, unable to move for fear.
The flames continued to envelop Thomas' throat.
There were few people in the diner, but every one of them turned to look at the four beings
at the front of the restaurant. They all grew silent when they watched the black-haired
man drop his victim to the ground, the throat of the smaller man black and charred and
burnt through to the bone.
"Let's walk," Erra turned to his partner, smirking. He put a hand around her waist as
they left the scene.
Peter blinked, watching the two devils leave, and sank to the ground, putting a hand under
Thomas' head.
"Someone call 911," The waiter whispered, and the customers made a wild dash to their cell
phones.
"There's no need." Peter trembled, watching Thomas' body disintegrate into light.
* * *
"Spike." Willow looked up from her book in surprise as he entered the magic shop in midday.
She frowned. "Um.. How've you been?"
"Good.. And not so good. Listen, Red, there's something you all should know-- it's Buffy--
she's--"
"Back." Willow finished for him, nodding sadly. "We know. How did *you* know?"
"She, uh, stayed with me for a bit, and then, uh, took off."
"Spike, she came to you, and you didn't tell us?" Willow exclaimed accusingly.
"Well--"
"Spike, she's very powerful now, and she's a threat to us!" Willow's eyes flashed angrily.
Spike sighed. Why had he come to them? He should have known that the blame was always put
on him. He should have know that they would never trust him, especially with his chip out.
Defeated, he turned and walked towards the exit.
"Wait Spike, we need your help." He turned to see Giles coming from the back. "If Buffy
stayed with you for even a day, you may be able to help us."
Spike rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do," He replied flatly.
"We are in the process of performing a ritual to summon beings from netherworlds. To bid
the creature to find Buffy, we need something of hers of which the other half will be on her
at the time of the ritual. Something like a piece of hair."
"You can get hair from her house." Spike said dryly.
"No. Because she was alive when she lived at her house. We need something from after she
became a vampire."
"Yeah? Fine. I'll get it for you. Just bloody well remember that I'm doing you a favour."
He spat as he left the store.
* * *
"They've killed Thomas." Dylan shook his head angrily.
"Lord, are you certain?" Michael furrowed his brow, worried.
"Of course I'm certain!" Dylan declared, glaring at his fellow angel. His expression
softened when he saw Michael's scared look. "When I reach out for him with my mind,
he's not there."
"Perhaps they've taken him to their dimension?"
"No, no. Why would they do that?" Dylan began to pace. "They have no reason to. There
would be nothing for them to do in Inferno that they wouldn't do here." He shook his
head. "No, they must have killed him."
Michael sat silently.
"Where's Faith?" Dylan demanded suddenly.
"She's at her hotel, Lord." Michael stood up. "Shall I get her?"
"Yes. Yes. Tell her we need her here immediately."
* * *
Spike sighed as he looked at the pile of clothes Buffy had left in his crypt. What was he
doing wrong? He shook his head, not understanding women. He ran his pale hands over her
red sweater, closing his eyes and imagining that she was in it.
In his dreams she never wore red. Red was not her colour. He picked up another article,
a pink blouse. He picked a golden strand of hair from it and looked at it for a few
moments.
How he was supposed to know whether it belonged to her before or after her death was beyond
him. He shook his head and let the golden yarn fall to the ground. He sat onto his bed,
and then sank his head down between the pillows.
He remembered when she was alive and came to his crypt after Glory had tortured him. He
had been battered and bruised, and she had kissed him. It may have been out of sympathy,
but it was genuine. His heart had melted and he knew that no matter the pain he suffered,
that one embrace was worth it.
He blinked and saw another piece of hair entwined with the lace edges of his pillow.
Carefully, he pulled it out with two fingers and looking at it, he sighed.
He wondered if all the hurt and betrayal and pain he had caused and was going through was
worth that one night of false bliss.
He shook his head.
It wasn't.
* * *
"But Daddy, pleeeease?" Glory whined.
"Glorificus, stop. You are in no way fit to go home and fight. Look at you! You were
beaten by a *vampire* slayer, and you had wrinkly little minions to do most of the work
for you." Lucifer pointed out.
"Why? Why do you hate me?" She pouted.
"Glory. *Stop*. The answer is no. Don't ask me again."
Glory frowned at him, her expression hurt. "You favour Fluffy to *me*."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I don't favour anyone to anyone. Okay. How about this. You go
kill as many angels as possible, and then if you're a good girl, Daddy will let you come
home." He said in a voice that one would use for children.
"Okay." She brightened up instantly.
Lucifer smiled back falsely.
"So.. where are they?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.
* * *
"512 Gleick Road." Buffy muttered to herself. She hid behind some greenery, cursing to
herself silently as her heel sank into the soil.
She held a longbow and a lighter. Silently, she dipped the end of the arrow into the
lighter's flame and watched as the tip began to burn.
"She's here." She heard a man's voice say faintly. She waited as one of them appeared
about 50 feet from where she stood, closing his eyes in concentration. Purposely she
filled her mind with strange ideas and watched as the angel looked in her direction, without
seeing her, confused.
She pulled the bow back and let the flaming arrow loose.
It struck him between the eyes and he gasped in surprise. Immediately she set up another
arrow and fired it, this time landing in his throat. The angel staggered for a moment, and
she saw that her second arrow had pierced its way through his neck, the tip protruding
sickeningly from the back side.
He was not dead yet. She shook her head as she lighted another arrow. The angel was trying
to pull the shaft from his brow when another came and pinned both his hands to his head.
Buffy smiled grimly as she let loose her last arrow and nodded to herself in satisfaction as
it impaled itself through the angel's heart and set the fabric of his jacket on fire. She
began to walk away as she saw his body slowly turn to light.
"One down, two to go." She said aloud, smirking.
She gasped in surprise as she bumped into a dark figure dressed entirely in black.
She stared for a moment at the familiar face framed by curls of dark hair, and the warm
brown eyes lined thickly with black eyeliner. She ran her eyes in surprise over the glossed
red lips in full pout, and the hardened expression hidden beneath a mock-friendly mask.
"Hey, B. Did you miss me?" The brunette grinned as she knocked Buffy out.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Hey guys, I *really* need feedback! Any ideas or suggestion are *very* welcome!