TWENTY-TWO

"Enjoying the Hall of Buffy?" Karakos enquired, taking a step towards her.

"It's okay," said Buffy weakly.

"Did you prefer your stroll down memory lane?" asked Karakos almost
mockingly. "I thought it was kind of funny."

"Depends on how you look at it," said Buffy softly.

Karakos knelt down and touched the engravings on the floor, tracing each
letter of her name with his fingernail, making a soft and uneasy scratching
noise. "Look at this."

Buffy found herself looking down, wondering why she wasn't slamming him
against the wall.

Karakos looked up at her and then back at the engravings. "They go really
deep into the stone… did you know?"

"I don't."

"There are a lot of things you don't know," replied Karakos. "I hope you've
realized that by now."

"Yeah, thanks."

Karakos turned back to the floor. "Etched so deep into the floor… each
letter … each stroke… imagine the dedication, the diligence, the effort."

Buffy didn't say anything.

Karakos stood up and moved towards the wall, running his hands over the
similar engravings. "Or could it be resentment and hatred? Can you tell the
difference?"

"I don't know."

"Sometimes there's a very thin line between love and hate."

"Are you going to start spouting clichéd lines now, because I plan on
leaving," said Buffy.

"You don't leave until I say so," said Karakos calmly, his head turned away
from her. He walked down the corridor, his voice echoing and booming from
every corner. "You have no idea how much you fill his mind. It stretches to
a point where it's almost sickening."

"Thank you."

"Come here," said Karakos, motioning towards her. Buffy found herself
following him, despite her reluctance. He waited for her, and then pointed
to a dark painting. "Look at this."

The painting mounted on the wall disturbed Buffy. It was a familiar picture
of her and Xander, one they had taken a few years back at a picnic. They had
their arms wrapped around each other and were smiling… but something was
different. There were jagged lines covering the picture, and dark red paint
was splashed across the corners.

"What do you think of this?" Karakos asked, folding his arms.

"I… I'm not sure."

"I don't know what he calls it," said Karakos slowly, "But I like to refer
to it as 'Rhapsody in Rage'. How does that sound?"

"Sounds deranged."

"Well, you don't know what you do to him," said Karakos. "You have no idea
how much fun I've had sifting through his rage. It was delicious."

"Your taste certainly varies from mine."

"You tear apart his mind and soul as if it were paper," said Karakos. "A
girl after my own heart."

"I'm not sure you have one."

"Well, you shoved a stake through it the last time I remember," said
Karakos. "But the damage you've done to me is minimal compared to this
wreckage of a mind you've created."

"I…" Buffy struggled for words, once again wondering why she was even
engaging in a conversation with him. She shook her head and stared at him,
slowly breaking out of the trance that kept her passive. "I don't care what
you think."

"Really."

"In fact, I'd rather be pounding your head against the wall right now," she
said. "Maybe it'll leave a cool impression of my name on your forehead."

"Why don't you?" invited Karakos.

"My pleasure."

Buffy grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. Karakos
hardly reacted, laughing maniacally. He stopped and glared at her, and Buffy
felt her grip weakening. She breathed heavily and let him go, taking a step
backwards, reeling from a sudden bout of vertigo.

Karakos reached out and grabbed her arm, lifting her off the ground. "You
can't possibly dream of beating me here… of all places."

"Get out of his mind," Buffy struggled to say, even though the pain was
searing through her arm. "Leave him alone."

"I don't think so." Karakos threw her to the ground.

Buffy gave a sharp cry of pain. She slowly got up but Karakos kicked her in
the face and sent her tumbling back to the floor. His right arm grasped
around her neck tightly and he flung her , sending her crashing into the
wall.

"There's only room for one of us here," said Karakos. "Sorry."

Buffy rolled out of the way as he lashed out his foot again. She picked her
self up and held her arm which still hurt. She realized that the best option
would be to run away and live to fight another day. She limped away from
him, as he walked after her calmly and confidently.

"Where do you think you're going?" He called after her. "You don't think you
can run from me, do you?"

Buffy looked behind her hurriedly and ran down the corridor, Karakos
following steadily behind her. She reached the end of the corridor, and it
was a dead end. She ran her hands against the wall, clumsily looking for
some sort of escape. Her fingers ran across a small button of some kind and
she pushed it in desperate. She heard a soft click and the wall in front of
her slid out of the way. Buffy stumbled forward, hearing the wall close
behind her.

She ran forward a few more steps, only to find that suddenly there was no
floor beneath her, and she plummeted into the darkness.