Title: And the Saints Boweth Before the King
Author: DOKChairman
Time/Spoilers: Takes place after the events in 'Grave'.
Summary: I could write a summary, but then it would give away everything. So no summary, but I'll give you a hint. The opening I put down for the story is indicative of some of what the story might be about. Not much of a hint, I know, but it's all you're getting.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own the rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of its characters. I own nothing except the story, and the Anna Kournikova poster on my bedroom wall.
Author's Note: I honestly thought when I posted this story that I wouldn't get very much feedback. So the amount of feedback that I got was very surprising. So, thank you very much to those that read and reviewed. I have decided to continue the story (for now), but it will take me time to update. As I said in my first post, my Farscape story consumes most of my writing time, so until I finish that story I will not be focusing on this story very much. I will post though, so don't worry. They just won't be very long posts, although they will be longer than my prologue. Please give me lots of feedback and tell me what you think. Don't be afraid to be brutally honest, just as long as your honesty pertains to the content and quality of the story. No personal attacks please. Anyways, on to the story.
Chapter 2: O'malley's Pub
He remembered. He didn't want to, but he did. He remembered the creature standing before him, he remembered the creature trying to force him to commit an act that went against everything he believed in, and he remembered the creature killing him for refusing to do that act.
He shuddered at that last part. He could still feel the creature's claws digging into the flesh of stomach, ripping his intestines apart. It was not something he wanted to dwell on.
What he didn't remember was how he came to be sitting on a chair, inside what had to be the dirtiest, grittiest, and most run down bar he had ever seen. And he had been inside Willy's before, so that was saying something.
He had woken up confused, groggy, and not alone. Sitting in the chair, across the table from him, was a man. The man was unremarkable. Short, bland, and completely indistinguishable in a crowd.
But it wasn't the man that got your attention it was his clothes. Wearing a fedora, in an age where wearing hats like that was rare, was the first indication that the man in front of him wanted to be noticed. He was wearing a beige jacket, over a shirt that was exploding with color, and a pair of old, brown slacks.
The man, upon seeing him awake, wasted little time in speaking. "How ya doin kid?"
His throat was dry, so his voice came out hoarse. "I'm fine. Where am I?"
The man got a big smile on his face. "This here is O'malley's, the best damn pub west of Dublin. You ain't gonna find a better Guinness in the states than right here."
He accepted what the man said at face value. He felt no urge to disagree. Besides, he had more important things to talk about. He again croaked out another question, "Who are you?"
The man just shrugged his shoulders. "Me? Name's not important."
He got frustrated, "So what am I suppose to call you then?"
Again the man shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. Call me whatever you want."
The man's answer did nothing to assuage his frustration. "Fine, you know what, I think I'll call you Dick. You look and act like a Dick, so that's what I'll call you."
If the man picked up on his not so subtle insult, he didn't show it. "Sure thing, kid. Dick it is."
He just let out a growl of frustration. The man just wouldn't give him a straight answer. "Look, Dick, not that I'm complaining, but why the hell am I still alive?"
The man looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he answered his question. "It's kind of complicated. You see, you're not really alive right now."
He just stared dumbly at the man sitting in front of him. He certainly felt alive. In fact just to prove it to himself, he pinched himself in his arm and pain shot up his arm. He just shook his head in disbelief. "If I'm not alive, then does this mean that I'm in Heaven? Cause I gotta tell you, I feel pretty real."
The man only commented on the first part of his question. "No, kid, you're not in Heaven."
He felt a deep pit form in his stomach as he thought of the alternative. He stammered, "Y-y-you mean I'm in Hell?"
The man shook his head, "No, you're not in Hell either. Like I said, it's complicated. You see, you're dead, yet your not."
He just looked at the man confusedly, "How can I be dead and still be alive at the same time?"
"Look, I don't understand all this mystical mumbo jumbo, kid. I just do what they tell me to do, and they told me to bring you here."
He had to ask, "Why?"
The man again shrugged his shoulders; it seemed to be his favorite gesture. "They wanted me to talk to you. They wanted to test you."
"Who is this they you keep talking about, and why do they want to test me?"
The man took a drink from the glass of beer that was resting in his hand before answering. "The Powers that Be, kid. Who else would be doing this kind of crap? Anyways, they tell me they got something planned for you, and they wanted to make sure you would be up to the challenge."
He just digested what the man said before speaking again, "So why the pre-interview skewer?"
The man frowned, "It's something that has to be done."
"You mean had to do, don't you?"
The man shook his head, "Sorry, kid, but you heard me correctly."
He was angry and he slammed his fist on the tabletop. "Why? I already went through the damn thing once. Why do I have to do it again?"
"Don't know kid. It's part of the testing process. Supposedly you're supposed to learn some profound truth or wisdom, or some other crap out of the whole thing." The man then leaned over the table so that his head was real close. He spoke in a conspiratorial tone, "I'll deny it if you ever say anything, but if you ask me, I think the Powers get their jollies off watching you mortals suffer."
The man then leaned back into his chair and drained the last of his beer. "Well kid, it's time. I'll be seeing you when you come back out. Good luck." The man then walked up to him and patted him on the back.
As soon as the man touched him, he felt himself falling. Almost as soon as the feeling started it stopped and he found himself in a large open field surrounded by tall trees. He could feel the heat of the sun beating down on his back. He looked down at his chest and noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt.
He lifted his head up from studying his body, and came face to face with the creature that had killed him. The creature was very big. Not only was he tall, but also his entire body was covered with muscles, and his hands ended in large sharp claws.
The creature began speaking, "You have been brought before me Alexander Lavelle Harris because the Powers That Be feel that you could be of use to them. I am here to prove them wrong."
The creature continued talking, but Xander tuned him out. He was too busy studying the large knife that had appeared in his hand. That was something new. There had been no knife last time.
The blade was long, at least seven inches, and was very sharp. The blade had little symbols; Xander assumed that they were some kind of language, carved directly into the blade's surface. The handle of the blade was made out of ivory, and it too had symbols carved into it. The knife was a beautiful instrument of death and it felt like it had been made just for him. It was the perfect weight, length, and the grip was just right for his hand.
Xander had just finished studying the knife when the creature finished his little speech. Xander looked up into the creature's face and saw what looked like anticipation on his face.
The creature spoke, "Begin."
Xander remembered this part; this was where he told the creature to shove it. "No."
The creature looked at Xander with surprise, "You refuse to do as I ask you?"
Xander felt anger grow inside him. There was no way he was going to do what the creature wanted him to do, no matter how many times he asked him. "There is no way in hell I'm doing what you want."
The creature's voice contained no emotions as he spoke, "Then you will die."
Xander just shrugged his shoulders. The creature just stared at Xander for a few seconds, and then lunged at him. The move, while unexpected to Xander, was easily defended against. Xander quickly moved to the side as the creature went flying by him.
The creature didn't go very far. As soon as he realized that he was going to miss Xander, he had started changing his momentum. Turning while he was moving he clipped Xander on his shoulder. The hit sent Xander flying backward.
Fortunately, Xander didn't fall down but he was still ill prepared for the creature's attack. The creature charged Xander, leading with his shoulder, and hit him straight in the chest. Again Xander went flying, except this time he was not as lucky as before. He landed five feet away on his back. His whole body was aching, and he was sure several of his ribs were broken.
Xander carefully got to his feet and brought the knife into a defensive position. As soon as the creature saw the knife, he hesitated. He came after Xander more carefully. He threw a high jab at Xander's face and Xander blocked his arm with his knife. Unfortunately, that's what the creature wanted. He hit Xander as hard as he could in his already busted ribs and Xander let out a loud gasp of breath and he collapsed to the ground.
The creature took the knife out of Xander's hand and placed one of his large feet on Xander's chest. He looked at Xander's face, which was grimacing in intense pain, and decided to give him one last chance. "Do as I say, and I'll let you live."
Xander stared up at him in defiance, before speaking through his pain. "I would rather burn in hell than do what you want."
The creature shook his head in disapproval. "Then you have sealed your fate." He then reached down with one of his large hands and grabbed hold of Xander's head. With a quick twist of his powerful hand, he snapped Xander's neck like a twig.
And once again, Alexander Harris's body lay limp on the ground.
To be continued (for now)…………..