Spike watched the dust devil climb into the sky and took another pull from the silver flask. The last two days had been a waking nightmare for the vampire. Kindra, true to her word, had called him with Jeff's work schedule. He had rented a car, with blackened windows, to follow the young delivery man on his rounds. Driving around in the daytime, in the Las Vegas traffic, was going to give him nightmares for years to come. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had been in an accident.
Now, on this Saturday afternoon, he had followed him out to Red Rock Canyon. Jeff had left his car in a parking lot and had been climbing over the canyon rocks all afternoon. He appeared to be climbing from one cave opening to the next. It had all the appeal of watching paint dry.
Evening was approaching but there were still a few climbers on the canyon wall. Most of the them had reached the top and were making their descent. Spike had noticed that most of the climbers avoided the openings in the wall and opted for free climbing the exposed areas. This made Jeff's search of the black spaces very suspicious.
Spike's drowsy eyes snapped open as movement from the top of the canyon caught his eye. A rope snaked down close to one of the black gaping holes dotting the cliff face. Jeff had apparently seen the same things and rapidly returned to the last cave entrance he had explored. He ducked inside the darkness just as a slight figure appeared on the canyon rim. The figure bent and straighten a few times then a large object dropped over the edge and plunged down, stopping just a few yards lower than the ledge in front of one of the dark holes.
After a few moments, the figure on the rim turned it's back to the drop off and began to rappel down the wall. It only took a few push offs for the person to reach their goal. Standing on the ledge, the person pulled up the bundle hanging from the second rope, wrestled it onto a shoulder and disappeared into the gaping black maw.
Spike watched as Jeff left his hiding space and began a traverse over to the larger opening in the cliff wall. Now, thought Spike, something is going to happen.
The day was ebbing quickly, the shadows cast by the far mountain rapidly climbing the canyon walls. Spike finally deemed it dark enough to leave the confines of the stuffy car and stepped out into the hot twilight. Jeff had finally reached the ledge of the cave and was just now disappearing inside.
Spike descended the trail to the base of the canyon wall and studied the rocks up close. They were a sandstone formation and had many declivities and fractures to offer handholds. The torturous route that Jeff had taken was not the easiest way to reach the large cave opening. It became apparent to him that Jeff had not known where the cave opening was, or he would have saved himself a lot of time by climbing directly to it. The reason why he was interested in the cave, and why someone else was using the cave was still a mystery.
He shucked his coat off, folded it carefully and began to climb the side of the wall. It was a fairly easy climb, with plenty of handholds, although at times he had to stretch himself across the face of the rock. He began to get into the rhythm of the climb, carefully testing the holds for fingers and feet and enjoying the sensation of movement. In this manner, he reached the ledge in a short time.
He paused after standing up. There was a faint smell that was familiar. It was the smell of decomposing flesh and grew stronger as he approached the entrance. He entered quietly, unsure of what was up ahead, and advanced only after testing each step so as not to disturb any of the small rocks scattered on the sandy floor. The tunnel narrowed abruptly past the entrance and turned to the right for a few meters before once again opening up and continuing further back into the rock. A faint light illuminated another turn in the tunnel and he slowed when he saw the shadow of a quickly approaching person.
Jeff stumbled around the corner of the tunnel and, disregarding Spike, dropped to his knees and was sick.
Spike approached the young man cautiously and glared at him. "Ya sodding wanker," whispered Spike, "what are you trying to do, get us both sta-er, killed?"
Jeff shook his head miserably and started crawling toward the mouth of the cave, still retching.
As Spike continued on, the smell of decay continued to grow stronger. He finally reached the turn and peeked cautiously around the corner.
The tunnel opened up to a large cavern, with small chambers pockmarking the side walls. The inner chamber was lit by the steady glare of Coleman lanterns. The floor, like the tunnel floor, was sandy and level, with occasional patches of the native rock showing through. Scattered throughout the large cavern, a few large boulders gave the appearance of the chamber being filled with furniture.
At first what he saw did not register on his mind, which had become used to the modern store front displays. Although the mannequins were unexpected, it still took a few moments for Spike to realize that they were posed with murderous intent.
After once again studying the room, and not seeing any movement of the other person who had entered the cave, he walked cautiously across the floor to examine the posed figures.
The smell of decay was overwhelming as he approached the ghastly scenes. Close inspection confirmed his growing suspicion that the posed figures were not regular store mannequins.
The first scene depicted a tall dark haired man savaging a half nude woman. The brains of the victim were splattered across the floor with most of the grey matter showing through a gaping hole in the head of what had been a beautiful blond girl. The effect of realism was marred by the growth of mold across the face of both attacker and victim, and the many dead maggots imbedded in the now dried and desiccated brain matter.
He moved on to the next diorama depicting a large nude man strangling a small, slight young man that had been chained by the hands to the ceiling. The arousal of the large man was noticeable from where he was standing, though, again, the realistic effect was marred by the growth of mold on both victim and attacker.
In this manner, moving around the room, studying the gristly scenes Spike slowly worked his was to the back of the cavern and finally stood in front of the last spectacle. This depicted the most famous scene of all the serial killers, the bedroom scene of the last victim of Jack the Ripper.
This display, unlike the others, had not been marred by the growth of mold. He studied the mutilated reclining figure with something akin to disgust. The legs were splayed with skin and flesh removed from the inner thighs, the abdomen had been opened and retracted so that the internal organs were exposed with the intestines removed and looped along the side of the body. The breast had been removed, and the face hacked beyond all recognition. It was a sight that was worse than many he had seen on battlefields that he had cause to visit in his long un-life.
It had been a long time since he and Dru had been the scourge of Europe, he realized, and the last few months with the chip had changed him. It was not just impossible for him to attack a human, but it has given him no choice but to interact with them to acquire his day to day necessities. He found that he missed the banter with the Asian shop girl, Kim, at the quickie mart where he picked up his cigs, and Harry, at the slaughter house where he picked up his blood, who always regaled him with the latest scoring thrills of his favorite basketball team, the Lakers.
He turned to continue his search for the second person who had to be in the cave.
"Helth ne."
He startled at the sound that had come from behind him, and jerked back around to the gruesome display. This time he saw what he had missed the with his first view. There were shackles around the ankles and legs, and also around the arms to hold them in place. He also noticed the teeth, they sported the elongated incisors of a vampire. As he stared in horror, he saw the mutilated face turn toward him. The jaw worked up and down for a few heartbeats and then, against all nature, a voice whispered from the ruined face, "Helth ne."
"Good god." he said aloud, and backed away from the thing on the inelegant bed.
"I assure you, God had nothing to do with it." said a dulcet voice behind him. "As he had nothing to do with you."
Spike turned to see that a tall blond woman was now in the cavern. She was carrying a long bloody knife, almost sword length, and a pail of blood. Her clothes were covered with swatches of red, and a bright red hand print streaked across her pale face.
"It's almost time to feed my pet. Would you like to stay and watch?" she said, still not moving.
Thought there was no threat, Spike knew that he was in danger. With the chip implanted, he had no defense against this woman.
"Who are you?' he asked, to buy himself some time.
"I thought you already had guessed that." the tall blond replied. She shifted her feet and held the knife up. "I'm one of your descendants, can't you tell by all the blood?"
"Interesting work, that." said Spike, indicating the gory scene behind him. "I wasn't in England for that part of history. Always knew that you humans could do us one better. Nice touch, keeping the victim alive. Shows a real bit of insanity. Now, who the hell are you, and what do you really want?"
"I'm Camilla, at your service." smirked the blond, "And I am Willamina's mother." Camilla put the bucket down without regard to the contents, some of which sloshed over the sides. "I knew that you would show sooner or later after I read how Sarah had died. That stupid cow always had a thing for you. She didn't get it, you know. She always thought you had no choice. But I know different."
"And what do you think I had a choice in?" asked Spike, edging toward the front of the cavern.
Camilla reached behind her back and produced a small tazer gun. "Oh, you know, the killing, the raping, and oh, where do you think you are going?"
Spike darted toward the front of the cavern, but even with enhanced speed he wasn't fast enough. He felt the electricity from the taser jolt along his spine, and lost control of his legs. As he crashed to the ground, unable to stop his fall, his last thoughts were of Dawn and Buffy and whether they would miss him. Then his world went black.
TBC
author's note: The description of the last Ripper victim has been changed to accommodate the physical limitations imposed by vampire physiology, as I see it. I referenced material from the Jack the Ripper Casebook website. This is a very extensive site dedicated to the study of Jack the Ripper, not for the faint of heart, nor would I recommend it for the younger readers. I claim no ownership of said site, and get no monetary gain if anyone accesses the site.
