Chapter 9
Run...just run...
She ran. Ran as fast, as hard as her aching muscles would allow. She almost gave in. In that doorway, looking at her friends faces. She almost decided to ignore what was happening and try to flee. To shirk her responsibility and run like hell away from this thing that scared her out of her mind. But then the call came.
Buffy bolted as fast as she could toward the scream. Trying to figure out the direction before it died out. But oh how she wanted the silence. The sound had shaken her determination. She literally had to stop herself from turning and run in the other direction.
The pain and aguish.
This was one of the few times she wanted to find the person, whoever let out that teeth gritting sound, dead. Because nothing could live with the emotion that could be heard in the air. No one could recover from something as horrible as what could be happening right now. It was also one of the few times that she actually thought of ending that persons misery if mercy hadn't been given already.
But she couldn't and she knew it.
She made her way past the cemetery gate and weaved her way through the tombstones. She was moving faster than she ever had before. To the human eye she was just a blur. Her speed came to a staggering halt as another scream ripped through the air. It was so close she almost collapsed. She felt like her cloths were heavy and weighing her down. The sound soaking through her.
Eyes closed tightly she willed her feet to move toward the sound. She hadn't noticed who's cemetery she was in. She also hadn't noticed the tingling sensation she was getting at the base of her neck. A wave of relief washed over her as the scream died out. Opening her eyes slowly, she took in the scene.
The moon was full, lighting everything. There wasn't anyone else there except of a lightly swaying figure under a tree. A body was hanging from one of its limbs. Arms over head, hanging by the wrists. She couldn't see who it was, but could tell that the person was a "he" since "he" wasn't wearing anything but boxers. Her ears picked up some faint murmuring coming from the figure.
Walking slowly, eyes darting around to make sure it wasn't an ambush, she made her way to the body. She noticed that the murmuring was actually whimpering, almost like a child.
"I...I didn't..."
Buffy studied the figure as she closed the final distance. What she saw twisted her stomach. The whole surface of the body was covered in half healed wounds and scars. Burns, cuts, and some odd looking stripes going down his legs. Her eyes finally rested on his face. She saw that it was badly bruised and cut. She couldn't make out much, his head was bent forward. Making it harder to see.
He kept whimpering the same words over and over again. When she go close enough she could see that he was staring into the ground, eyes distant, and a constant stream of tears slid down his face. Quickly taking out the dagger she went to cut him down when she finally noticed the sensation on the back of her neck. As Buffy retreated she caught the color of his eyes. Pale blue. So very blue.
Her eyes widened with shock.
"Spike!"
He didn't look at her, just stared off and kept whimpering his chant, tears still coming down. She moved again to cut him down when she felt another presence. She whirled around, crossbow aimed as she heard a chipper voice.
"Buffy Anne Summers"
When she saw a head in her sights she let the bolt fly. She hadn't even noticed the two burning rings.
***********
Buffy eyes widened as the form stood still. She saw the Bolt hit and go through. She heard it rip through flesh and punch through bone. It stuck there. In between what looked to be eyes. It almost reminded her of one of those gag arrows.
The figure's head didn't move. It didn't stagger or scream in pain. It just stood there. Then casually it pulled out the arrow, and tossed it aside.
"Now that was just rude."
His voice sounded New England proper.
Her mind on Slayer autopilot ran the situation down. What looked to be a man, 5 graves away. Can take an arrow through the forehead and not even flinch. Quickly snapping out of it her eyes went over the danger before her.
Tall slender figure. Long ratty trench coat, sewed together in some places. Stained with dark blotches and streaks. Looks like blood. Vest underneath, very ratty also. Ruffled shirt underneath. Long black hair that went past his shoulders.. The form was heavily shadowed. Like it could create darkness around it. The neatly combed black hair hid its face from the moon. Only allowing a dim outline. But she could see two burning rings. Spaced apart like eyes. They glowed but didn't reveal any of the face.
Buffy noticed she was staring and had to snap out of it. She physically shook her head out of the daze and glanced back to the motionless figure. Her face gave a puzzled look. It was just standing there. Trying to keep her voice confident.
"Well are you going to stand there until I get bored or are you going to do something?"
She could tell that it smiled. For some reason she felt this wasn't a good sign.
"Just letting you take in the situation. Usually a slayer would rush in. But Spike was right. You are different from the other slayers."
Her head snapped back to the whimpering figure hanging from the tree. She almost let a tear slip from her eye. Turning back to the smiling man she spoke, rage and pain shaking her voice.
"What did you do to him."
She could have sworn that the dim grin grew wider. It asked, voice happy.
"Recently?"
Her eyes closed, trying desperately to fight the tears. As if on cue it began.
"Well it is amazing really, he withstood five days, some of Malnaroo's best, but it only took moments for that memory to drive him completely mad."
With that the tears silently came down. Her voice small and a mix of desperation and defeat.
"What memory?"
His voice was almost busting with pride.
"Oh his worst nightmare. After all these years I must say Malnaroo is a genius. Of course he has always been the best at what he does. Though his conversation skills are a bit lacking. But that's where I come in."
Opening her eyes she noticed that It was walking steadily forward. Advancing on her. Buffy tried to maintain her ground, but her feet betrayed her and she slowly stepped back.
"Who are you?"
"Oh I'm Johnathon. Malnaroo's other half. The Host."
She just stared into the burning rings. When she hit the tree he stopped advancing. Clapping his hands together he let out a sigh.
"Alright down to business. Now if you do as I say, I will be gone and you will forfeit the experience of watching me ripping out your sisters tongue. Now what I want is simple."
He paused, as if trying to make sure she understood. All she could do was nod. Her whole body was shaking from the mental image he gave her.
"I want Angel."
She froze.
Angel...
She looked at him with utter shock. Seeing the reaction Johnathon just laughed.
"Oh it gets better, I want him here, within 24hrs or I start with your weakest friend and work my way up, until he's here."
Buffy couldn't move. She just stared at him. The same thoughts running through her head.
Angel, It wanted Angel. Why Angel?
It held his arm up and looked at it's wrist.
"24hrs starting nnnnnnnow. Oh I suggest you leave him, I doubt you'll be able to get him coherent for a long long time."
His casual point snapped her out of her thoughts, it was gone. She looked at her wrist and noticed it was midnight. Buffy had to get moving. But she couldn't leave him here.
Better take him back, maybe the gang can fix him.
She spun and quickly cut the ropes and started to run toward the magic shop with Spike. With his arm over her shoulder and hers around his waist she ran as quick as she could while dragging him. She felt like she was carrying a wet cement bag. He did nothing to help. He just kept whimpering and crying.
She spotted the shop and noticed Xander was waiting outside. When he saw her he quickly opened the door and called to the others.
As she dragged past him through the door he recognized the person with her.
"Spike?"
FROM THE AUTHOR:
Thanks a bunch for all the reviews. I was starting to get worried there. I ask that everyone keep reviewing. The positives are giving me a great ego boost. My head will barely fit through the door.
Anyway, I'd like to thank another great, awesome, wonderful, and other adjectives, author. kittyb90. She's been great and very supportive. I think if you like my writing you'll love hers.
Run...just run...
She ran. Ran as fast, as hard as her aching muscles would allow. She almost gave in. In that doorway, looking at her friends faces. She almost decided to ignore what was happening and try to flee. To shirk her responsibility and run like hell away from this thing that scared her out of her mind. But then the call came.
Buffy bolted as fast as she could toward the scream. Trying to figure out the direction before it died out. But oh how she wanted the silence. The sound had shaken her determination. She literally had to stop herself from turning and run in the other direction.
The pain and aguish.
This was one of the few times she wanted to find the person, whoever let out that teeth gritting sound, dead. Because nothing could live with the emotion that could be heard in the air. No one could recover from something as horrible as what could be happening right now. It was also one of the few times that she actually thought of ending that persons misery if mercy hadn't been given already.
But she couldn't and she knew it.
She made her way past the cemetery gate and weaved her way through the tombstones. She was moving faster than she ever had before. To the human eye she was just a blur. Her speed came to a staggering halt as another scream ripped through the air. It was so close she almost collapsed. She felt like her cloths were heavy and weighing her down. The sound soaking through her.
Eyes closed tightly she willed her feet to move toward the sound. She hadn't noticed who's cemetery she was in. She also hadn't noticed the tingling sensation she was getting at the base of her neck. A wave of relief washed over her as the scream died out. Opening her eyes slowly, she took in the scene.
The moon was full, lighting everything. There wasn't anyone else there except of a lightly swaying figure under a tree. A body was hanging from one of its limbs. Arms over head, hanging by the wrists. She couldn't see who it was, but could tell that the person was a "he" since "he" wasn't wearing anything but boxers. Her ears picked up some faint murmuring coming from the figure.
Walking slowly, eyes darting around to make sure it wasn't an ambush, she made her way to the body. She noticed that the murmuring was actually whimpering, almost like a child.
"I...I didn't..."
Buffy studied the figure as she closed the final distance. What she saw twisted her stomach. The whole surface of the body was covered in half healed wounds and scars. Burns, cuts, and some odd looking stripes going down his legs. Her eyes finally rested on his face. She saw that it was badly bruised and cut. She couldn't make out much, his head was bent forward. Making it harder to see.
He kept whimpering the same words over and over again. When she go close enough she could see that he was staring into the ground, eyes distant, and a constant stream of tears slid down his face. Quickly taking out the dagger she went to cut him down when she finally noticed the sensation on the back of her neck. As Buffy retreated she caught the color of his eyes. Pale blue. So very blue.
Her eyes widened with shock.
"Spike!"
He didn't look at her, just stared off and kept whimpering his chant, tears still coming down. She moved again to cut him down when she felt another presence. She whirled around, crossbow aimed as she heard a chipper voice.
"Buffy Anne Summers"
When she saw a head in her sights she let the bolt fly. She hadn't even noticed the two burning rings.
***********
Buffy eyes widened as the form stood still. She saw the Bolt hit and go through. She heard it rip through flesh and punch through bone. It stuck there. In between what looked to be eyes. It almost reminded her of one of those gag arrows.
The figure's head didn't move. It didn't stagger or scream in pain. It just stood there. Then casually it pulled out the arrow, and tossed it aside.
"Now that was just rude."
His voice sounded New England proper.
Her mind on Slayer autopilot ran the situation down. What looked to be a man, 5 graves away. Can take an arrow through the forehead and not even flinch. Quickly snapping out of it her eyes went over the danger before her.
Tall slender figure. Long ratty trench coat, sewed together in some places. Stained with dark blotches and streaks. Looks like blood. Vest underneath, very ratty also. Ruffled shirt underneath. Long black hair that went past his shoulders.. The form was heavily shadowed. Like it could create darkness around it. The neatly combed black hair hid its face from the moon. Only allowing a dim outline. But she could see two burning rings. Spaced apart like eyes. They glowed but didn't reveal any of the face.
Buffy noticed she was staring and had to snap out of it. She physically shook her head out of the daze and glanced back to the motionless figure. Her face gave a puzzled look. It was just standing there. Trying to keep her voice confident.
"Well are you going to stand there until I get bored or are you going to do something?"
She could tell that it smiled. For some reason she felt this wasn't a good sign.
"Just letting you take in the situation. Usually a slayer would rush in. But Spike was right. You are different from the other slayers."
Her head snapped back to the whimpering figure hanging from the tree. She almost let a tear slip from her eye. Turning back to the smiling man she spoke, rage and pain shaking her voice.
"What did you do to him."
She could have sworn that the dim grin grew wider. It asked, voice happy.
"Recently?"
Her eyes closed, trying desperately to fight the tears. As if on cue it began.
"Well it is amazing really, he withstood five days, some of Malnaroo's best, but it only took moments for that memory to drive him completely mad."
With that the tears silently came down. Her voice small and a mix of desperation and defeat.
"What memory?"
His voice was almost busting with pride.
"Oh his worst nightmare. After all these years I must say Malnaroo is a genius. Of course he has always been the best at what he does. Though his conversation skills are a bit lacking. But that's where I come in."
Opening her eyes she noticed that It was walking steadily forward. Advancing on her. Buffy tried to maintain her ground, but her feet betrayed her and she slowly stepped back.
"Who are you?"
"Oh I'm Johnathon. Malnaroo's other half. The Host."
She just stared into the burning rings. When she hit the tree he stopped advancing. Clapping his hands together he let out a sigh.
"Alright down to business. Now if you do as I say, I will be gone and you will forfeit the experience of watching me ripping out your sisters tongue. Now what I want is simple."
He paused, as if trying to make sure she understood. All she could do was nod. Her whole body was shaking from the mental image he gave her.
"I want Angel."
She froze.
Angel...
She looked at him with utter shock. Seeing the reaction Johnathon just laughed.
"Oh it gets better, I want him here, within 24hrs or I start with your weakest friend and work my way up, until he's here."
Buffy couldn't move. She just stared at him. The same thoughts running through her head.
Angel, It wanted Angel. Why Angel?
It held his arm up and looked at it's wrist.
"24hrs starting nnnnnnnow. Oh I suggest you leave him, I doubt you'll be able to get him coherent for a long long time."
His casual point snapped her out of her thoughts, it was gone. She looked at her wrist and noticed it was midnight. Buffy had to get moving. But she couldn't leave him here.
Better take him back, maybe the gang can fix him.
She spun and quickly cut the ropes and started to run toward the magic shop with Spike. With his arm over her shoulder and hers around his waist she ran as quick as she could while dragging him. She felt like she was carrying a wet cement bag. He did nothing to help. He just kept whimpering and crying.
She spotted the shop and noticed Xander was waiting outside. When he saw her he quickly opened the door and called to the others.
As she dragged past him through the door he recognized the person with her.
"Spike?"
FROM THE AUTHOR:
Thanks a bunch for all the reviews. I was starting to get worried there. I ask that everyone keep reviewing. The positives are giving me a great ego boost. My head will barely fit through the door.
Anyway, I'd like to thank another great, awesome, wonderful, and other adjectives, author. kittyb90. She's been great and very supportive. I think if you like my writing you'll love hers.