Mutant Enemy Television, Inc. owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. My use is in no way meant to challenge any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned, or any other, copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.
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VII – Nightmares Both Real and Imagined"Tara?" Willow asked uneasily, looking around their bedroom. The darkness was oppressive, and the silence that surrounded the young witch actually started to ring in her ears. "Tara?" she called again, this time more loudly. That didn't sound right, Willow thought as soon as she heard her own voice. It took only a moment to realize that her room had suddenly developed an echo. Willow reached over to turn on the light on the nightstand, but only found empty space waiting for her hand. Where the hell did my nightstand go? Willow fought to increase her concentration, deciding that she must still be half-asleep.
After a couple of moments, Willow ran her hand over the bed, searching for her pillows. She found them quickly and decided that she had indeed been searching for her nightstand exactly where it should have been. She tried once more, thinking that she had perhaps missed it somehow in the inky darkness. Once again she found nothing. She stepped carefully out of bed and turned on the light switch at the room's entrance. No sooner did her feet hit the floor, though, than she realized that something was very wrong.
The floor is made of stone! The thought flashed through her head, and confusion once again reigned in her mind. She moved hesitantly, sweeping her hands in front of her to avoid running into any unseen obstacles. After a minute of painfully slow searching, Willow's hand finally found a wall. She started to sidestep toward her right, knowing that if there were a wall, there would also have to be a door somewhere. Finally she found it – a heavy wooden door with large metal hinges and a cold metal handle. Willow grabbed the handle and turned it slowly. A slight click was followed by a thunderous boom as the metal hinges unstuck and then loudly squealed in protest as the door slowly opened.
I don't know where I am, but if there's anyone here, they'll be expecting me now, Willow realized. As soon as the door began to open, a dim, hazy light came into sight. The witch opened the door just enough to walk through, not wanting to cause any more unnecessary noise by opening it farther than was needed.
Willow slipped into the next room, and almost immediately wished she had stayed in the blinding darkness of the previous chamber. The large room seemed to be carved directly from rock, and had very rough-hewn walls and a gravelly floor. Attached to the walls on the right side were three pairs of manacles, each set about six and a half feet from the floor. On the left wall she saw an iron maiden, and a large pillar dominated the center of the room. The light source, whatever it was, seemed to come from directly behind the pillar. Willow noticed shadows begin to dance around her, and she jumped when, inexplicably, the light began flickering slightly. It must be some kind of flame – either a few candles or a small fire, she concluded.
She walked further into the room, hesitating with each step. The small pebbles scattered about the floor were sharper than Willow had thought, and she winced as slight gashes formed on the soles of her feet. On the far side of the pillar, a small, lit brazier came into view. Next to it was a small rack containing a cat-o-nine-tails, a bullwhip that had three small, metal balls attached to its tip, a black leather riding crop, and a feather duster. She looked at the pillar again and noticed yet another pair of manacles, and she immediately concluded that the room was used either to torture prisoners or host rowdy S&M parties. Given the oppressive mood in her surroundings, though, she doubted the possibility of parties.
Further examination revealed a large, wooden, throne-like chair on the far wall which the pillar had obstructed from her view when she had first entered. What is this place? she wondered desperately, feeling certain that she recognized the chamber somehow. I know I've seen this before.
Willow walked toward the throne, and as she approached she noticed that on the two arms of the over-sized chair each held a book. A feeling deep in Willow's gut told her that the books held the answers to all of her questions. She continued to move slowly, hardly noticing that the area in front of the throne had been cleansed of the gravel that had been causing her so much pain only moments earlier. Just as she got to within arm's reach of the chair, moments before her hand grasped the book on the throne's right arm, she heard something for the first time since her strange visit had begun.
Whispers began to grab her attention, and Willow turned to look behind her. "Hello?" she called into the shadowy chamber behind her. "Tara? Is that you?" A child's giggle was the only response she received. "Hello?" Silence returned for a few moments, but then the whispering started again. Willow couldn't make out any words, but she was certain there were at least three people speaking. Children speaking, she corrected herself. There're kids in here. Why can't I see them?
"Are you okay?" Willow asked hesitantly. "Do you need help?" The whispers continued, and Willow was certain she heard more voices join the discussion that was just barely muffled enough to prevent her from picking out any of the words. "Are you okay?" she asked again.
"We are now," she heard a small girl answer in reply. The hairs on the back of Willow's neck stood up on end as she heard the voice. It was strange, unearthly. In her heart, Willow knew the girl was dead.
"What do you mean?" Willow asked nervously, her sense of unease quickly giving way to fear, and showing signs of panic.
"We'll show you," the girl replied from the shadows. A moment later Willow was tackled into the large chair, though she saw no one actually attack her.
Ghosts, she realized, trying to suppress her fear and remain rational. Focus, Will, she told herself. You've been in worse situations. Really. She avoided dwelling upon the fact that virtually every other time she'd been in a bad situation like this, Buffy had been there to protect her. Her gaze swept carefully across the room, but she saw no one. She looked down at her right hand, and noticed it was sitting on one of the books. She moved her hand enough to see the words 'Malleous Maleficarum' written on the front. Oh no! she thought, rapidly allowing panic to set in. She knew that book. "Tara!" she called out in terror. "Tara!"
Willow picked up the second book and searched for a title. None was to be found. She opened the solid, midnight-blue binding and set her eyes on the title page – Compendium Maleficarum. She slammed the book shut and moved to run out of the chair, only to come face to face with what she assumed was the young girl she had heard. The child's face was blue, her skin dried and peeling. Her eyes held no sign of life, but only looked at her vacantly through strands of straw-white hair.
Willow screamed when she saw the girl. "We've been cleansed," the girl said, her bluish-white lips parting in an inhuman mockery of a smile. "Let us cleanse you, too."
Willow sat bolt upright in her bed, finding herself screaming at the top of her lungs. Within moments there was a loud pounding at her door. She threw on a heavy white bathrobe and hurried to the door, instantly coming face-to-face with her RA.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked, concern etched deeply into her face. "You've been screaming at the top of your lungs for at least three minutes."
"Nightmare," Willow mumbled as she began to wake up enough to realize she was drenched with sweat.
"That's all?" her RA asked. "That had to be some nightmare."
"I think so," Willow answered. The images she had seen only moments before slowly began to leave her mind. All, that is, except for the rotting visage of the young girl.
"Wait here," the RA said. "I'm gonna get some coffee." As the girl moved out of Willow's doorway, the witch noticed that several of the other women on her dorm's floor were standing at their own doors, staring at her. Some of them seemed curious, while some of them seemed frightened. It was then that Willow remembered her conversation with Lucy, and how she'd discovered that many people knew about her relationship with Tara. Suddenly, Willow began to wonder if people also knew about her love of the occult. I can only imagine what they're thinking right now, she mused sourly, already guessing at some of the stories that would be all over campus by lunchtime the next day. Tara isn't going to like this one bit.
With that one simple thought, a new wave of panic overcame Willow. Where's Tara? she thought frantically. Willow knew that Tara had been lying beside her when she went to sleep. Now, however, she was nowhere to be seen.
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A cloaked figure waited outside the stone steps of St. Michael's Cathedral, unseen eyes scanning the darkness for an unannounced visitor who was, nonetheless, expected. Minutes crept by, and finally the wait was rewarded by the sight of a young blonde woman walking slowly through the deserted streets of Sunnydale.
Tara's gaze was vacant, and if her eyes focused on anything, it was only the sight of the cathedral. For years, ever since she'd come to Sunnydale, she had grown accustomed to scanning all of her surroundings, searching every shadow for a possible threat. In Sunnydale, on top of a hellmouth, lowering one's guard was a foolish invitation to disaster. Tonight, however, she had abandoned her wary manner.
Without a word, and with only an expressionless face, she approached the figure standing on the stairs and knelt down before it. "I'm a sinner," she finally said, her voice monotone and empty.
"I know you are, my child," Father Raine answered weakly from within the folds of the cloak. "All is not lost, though. God will ever accept you into his kingdom. First, however, you must be cleansed."
To be continued..................................